#splashed my face with cold water many times but I think I also need coffee ☕️ r something

[diari0deglierrori]

I need more social interaction. Human contact. Need to feel more normal about it. Is that too much to ask

[lemondropdancer]

Grounding Techniques

Mental Distraction Techniques

Pick a category of objects and try to think of as many objects as possible that fit within that category (e.g., types of dogs, cities, types of trees, crayon colors, sports)

Pick a letter and think of emotionally positive or neutral words that begin with that letter

Pick a color and look for things of that color. Notice differences in their exact shades

Say or think the alphabet backwards or alternate letters and numbers (A1, B2, C3, D4, etc)

Count backwards from 100 by 3s, 6s, or 7s or count up by prime numbers or perfect squares

Play "fizz-buzz" with yourself. Begin counting to 100 (or over!), but replace any number that contains the number 5 or is a multiple of 5 with the word "fizz" and any number that contains the number 7 or is a multiple of 7 with the word "buzz." For example, 1-15 would be "1, 2, 3, 4, fizz, 6, buzz, 8, 9, fizz, 11, 12, 13, buzz, fizz." When you mess up, compliment yourself and start over

Think of the words to your favorite song or poem or think of facts related to a specific theme

Pick a word or your name and see how many other words you can make from the letters in it

Describe an every day event or process in great detail, listing all of the steps in order and as thoroughly as possible (e.g., how to cook a meal, how to get from your house to your place of work or school, how to do your favorite dance)

Read something technical or meant for children or read words backwards to focus on the process of reading and not the words

Watch a children's television show or movie or watch cute or funny videos on Youtube; it might help to have a playlist already prepared for this

Look at a current news article that is not likely to be upsetting or distressing

Distract yourself with Tetris, Solitaire, Sudoku, word searches, or other puzzle games

Reorientation Techniques

Say or think to yourself: "My name is _________. I am safe right now. I am _____ years old. I am currently at _____________. The date is _____________. If I need help, I am with ________/can call _________. Everything is going to be alright."

List reaffirming statements ("I am fine. Everything is going to be okay. I am strong. I can handle this.")

Ask yourself where you are, what day of the week it is, what day of the month it is, what month it is, what year it is, what season it is, how old you are, and other present-focused questions

Notice things in your surroundings that indicate to you that you're safe or that you're in the present (e.g., locks on your door, electronics that didn't exist when you were younger, the presence of trusted people, a phone so that you can call for help if you need it)

Describe your surroundings in detail, including sights (objects, textures, shapes, colors), sounds, smells, and temperature

Name five things that you see, four that you feel, three that you hear, and two that you smell or taste, and then name one good thing that you like about yourself

Pick four or five brightly colored objects that are easily visible and move your focus between them. Be sure to vary the order of your gaze and concentrate briefly on each one before moving to the next

Think about a fun time that you recently had with a friend or call that friend and ask them to talk about it with you

Sensory-Based Grounding Techniques

Run cool or warm (but not too cold or hot) water over your hands or take a cool or warm bath or shower

Spritz your face (with eyes closed), neck, arms, and hands with a fine water mist

Spray yourself with your favorite perfume and focus on the scent

Feel the weight of your body in your chair or on the floor and the weight of your clothing on your skin

Touch and hold objects around you. Compare the feel, weight, temperature, textures, colors, and materials

Keep a small object with you to touch or play with when you get triggered. Good examples include a smooth stone, a fidget toy, jewelry, or a tiny plushy

Bite into a lemon, orange, or lime, suck on a sour or minty candy or an ice cube, chew cinnamon-flavored gum, or put a few drops of Tabasco sauce on your tongue. Notice the flavor, scent, and texture

Eat something or drink warm tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, and describe to yourself the taste and texture in great detail

Place a cool wash cloth on your face or hold something cold like a can of soda

Listen to soothing or familiar music. If possible, dance to it

Hum, sing, recite poetry, or make up a silly poem or story as you go

Pick up a book and read the first paragraph out loud

Hug another person (if interpersonal touch isn't a trigger). Pay attention to your own pressure and the physical sensations of doing so

Hug a tree! Register the smells of being outside, the wind, and the sights around you

Movement-Based Grounding Techniques

Breathe deeply and slowly and count your breaths

Grab tightly onto your chair or press your feet against the ground as firmly as you can

Rub your palms and clap your hands or wiggle your toes within your socks. Pay attention to the physical sensation of doing so

Stretch out your arms or legs, roll your head on your neck, or clench and unclench your fists

Stomp your feet, walk around, run, jump, ride a bike, do jumping jacks, or do yoga

While walking, notice each footstep and say to yourself "right" and "left" to correspond with the foot currently moving

Squeeze a pillow, stuffed animal, or ball

If you have a soft pet (dog or cat), brush its fur and stroke it. If you don't, brush your own hair slowly and without pulling too much

Color in an adult coloring book, finger paint, or draw anything that comes to mind without worrying about quality

Write whatever comes to mind even if it's nonsense. Try not to write about whatever is upsetting you until you're more capable of doing so without increasing the upset

Write a list of things that make you happy or look for cheerful pictures to make into a collage

Pop bubble wrap or blow and pop actual bubbles

Dig in the dirt or garden, jump on a pile of leaves, or splash around in puddles or mud

Rip up paper or stomp on aluminum cans to crush them

Imagery Techniques

Picture yourself breathing in relaxation, calm, positive feelings, or strength. Picture yourself breathing out whatever is upsetting you. It may help to pair this with imagery of breathing in soothing colors (usually blue, purple, or green) and out more intense colors (usually red or black)

If you need to relax, envision a soothing white or golden light slowly moving up your body, warming and relaxing every part of you that it touches. You can also think of it as protecting you from negativity or from harm

If the problem is intense or uncomfortable emotions, physical sensations, or memories, picture them being surrounded and neutralized by a bright and healing light, temporarily placed in a mental box to be stored for later, or dialed back by an internal controller of intensity

If you have a clear mental picture of what's upsetting you, mentally change it to something silly or harmless. If you're a fan of Harry Potter, cast a mental "riddikulus" to banish the negativity

Picture yourself calm, focused, and able to tackle whatever problems you're facing. Focus on how that would feel in the moment. What would your expression and posture be like? Make whatever changes you need to in order to make your reality reflect your goal

How to Make a Grounding Box

Get a box or basket

Personalize and decorate it with construction paper, wrapping paper, ribbon, stickers, drawings, paint, photographs, glitter, sequins, or anything else that you like

Keep within it:

A list of grounding techniques that you know work for you

A list of positive affirmations and happy memories

A list of the contact information of trusted friends or family who are willing to help and support you

Small sensory objects such as: scented candles, perfumes, or lotions; hard candies or gum; soft fabrics, a stress ball, a stuffed animal, or a fidget toy; happy pictures of you with friends; a CD with relaxing music or meditation tracks. Try to cover all of the senses

A list of possible distractions such as books to read or movies to watch

Small portable distractions such as a pack of playing cards, a small game, or a joke book

A list of comforting things to do such as taking a bubble bath, snuggling up in bed, or meditating

A small journal or notebook

In the Case of a Flashback

Tell yourself that you are having a flashback and are safe now

Remind yourself that the worst is over, and you survived it. What you're feeling now is just a reminder of that trauma and does not fit the present moment

Remind yourself of when and where you are, who you're currently with, and who you can contact if you need help (use the reorientation-focused grounding techniques)

Breathe deeply and slowly. Count your breathes and make sure that you're getting enough air

Use other mental, sensory, movement, and imagery techniques in order to distract yourself, calm yourself, and reorient yourself within the present

If possible or necessary, go somewhere where you can be alone or with a close friend, where you will feel safe, or where you feel protected or shielded

If there is anyone who you can trust or who will support you, reach out to them, let them know what happened, and let them know what you need, what would be best for you, or what they could do to help

Be gentle with yourself and take the time to really recover. If what helps you to recover is to color, take a bubble bath, hug a stuffed animal, or watch a children's movie and if it would not be disruptive to do such things at that point in time, embrace those options whole-heartedly

If possible, note or write down what triggered the flashback, what techniques you tried to use to disrupt the flashback, and what techniques helped

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

[peter-parcoeur]

Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

____________________________________________________

« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“  Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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

For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower.  Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house.  The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

[a-d--a-s-t-r-a]

Until2022′s Guide to Catching Up When You’re Drastically Behind in Study:

I. Assess the damage

The first step in the plan is to confront how bad the situation is and then make some calls about what you can realistically achieve in the time you have left. 

List everything you have to do, down to exact detail - don’t write ‘catch up on readings for Virology’, but instead note down every chapter. This will make it a lot easier to gauge how much time and energy you need for each assignment or exam, and will help to motivate you as you work through. 

Use an Eisenhower matrix to sort these tasks:

Important and Urgent: Any and all compulsory assignments, exams, tests, etc. 

Important but Not Urgent: Lectures for upcoming exams, compulsory readings or labs, etc.

Urgent but Not Important: Additional homework or tasks that are due soon but aren’t worth much, like logbooks or small quizzes

Not Important and Not Urgent: Additional readings, nice lecture notes, and other ‘good-to-haves’

Now cross out everything that you can afford not to do. That’s going to be everything in your ‘Not Important and Not Urgent’ zone, and probably all of the things in your ‘Urgent but Not Important’ zone. I know that it’s annoying not to get everything done, or to sacrifice the 5% that you could have gotten, but unless you can do it in 10 minutes and it’s really worth it you simply don’t have the time to spare here. 

Having said that, if a class has lots of small assignments due, don’t overlook them because they’re not worth much on their own - make sure you take a look at the overall percentage left to go in that subject. If you can dedicate a whole day to just that subject and smash through all those assignments in one, you’re crossing a lot of work off your list. For example, I have weekly quizzes and 2% labs in my Pathology course - if I’m behind, I’ll dedicate a whole day and do all of those assessments. That’s 20% out of the way and a big leap towards catching up. 

II. Tackle the low-hanging fruit

Seeing the product of countless days of procrastination is probably pretty daunting right now. I could offer you platitudes here but it’s a lot easier for you to actually take some action and feel better about it yourself, so:

Do everything that will take you less than 10 minutes to complete. Reply to those emails, the messages in the assignment group chat, upload your peer assessment, do all the little things you need to do for someone else. That should cross out a big chunk of things from your list, and you’ll be left with the important stuff like finishing assignments and studying for exams. 

If you’re panicking (seeing the huge list of stuff which you have to finish in an impossibly short time will often do this!) then try an easy square breathing exercise. Breathe in for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, exhale for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, repeat. Splashing cold water on your face is helpful too, as is having a glass of water. Do not use this time to procrastinate! It might sound like a good idea to relax by watching Youtube or Netflix, scrolling through Instagram or playing a video game, but you’re going to be sucked back into the procrastination game that got you here in the first place. 

III. Create your plan of attack 

You’ve left it too late to be regularly revising, so our plan of attack is basically going to be: cram every subject consecutively. This is the best way to get everything done when you’re pressed for time like this - don’t switch tasks or subjects. Interleaving subjects is great when you’re on schedule, but right now you don’t want to spend quarter of an hour getting into the groove of a certain subject and then switching before an hour has passed. 

University is just one assignment after another, no breathing space in between, especially towards the end of the semester. All you need to do is work out what’s due first and what’s worth most, order everything according to those criteria and then focus on the first assessment until you’re done. Once the assignment is handed in or you’ve sat the exam, then you can move onto the next task.

If you have two different assignments due for different classes on the same day, plan ahead so you can dedicate a full day to each subject instead of working on both at the same time. 

Plan out every single day - make sure you’re scheduling in time to eat, shower, sleep, and take breaks as well as to study. Be specific when planning your time out each day as to what tasks you’re hoping to achieve - don’t allocate too much time to any single lecture, but at the same time, be realistic about how much you can cover in one hour. 

Choose wisely based on what you do or don’t know. There isn’t much point in spending this precious time revising the things you already know you’re good at, so suck it up and schedule in the hard stuff first up, but be prepared to move on if you can’t get it down. You’re far better off going into the exam knowing 10 things badly, than 1 thing really well, so focus on the basics and if you have time to learn the more complex details then go back and do that later. 

You also need to be flexible and prepared to adjust - sometimes an assignment will take longer than expected or a day just won’t be as productive as you thought it might be. Don’t panic, just re-plan and shift things around so you keep moving in the right direction. 

IV. Grind it out 

Now that you have a clear idea of what you need to achieve and when, it’s time to get it done.  

For once, you shouldn’t need to worry about simple procrastination. You’re  probably already panicking, so turn that anxiety into motivation which will fuel you and let you focus for long time periods. Fear can be a great driver - when the threat of the exam is looming over you, it’s amazing how well you can knuckle down, assuming you don’t want to fail. 

Pack a bag with everything you need - your laptop or tablet, your charger, headphones, a water bottle and a travel mug, snacks and meals for the day, and anything else you like to have with you when you’re studying. Then take yourself to the library, the local coffee shop, the office - wherever you like to study, but don’t sit at home. There’s too many opportunities for distraction and you cannot afford that right now. Being in an environment where other people are working will motivate you to do the same. 

If you’re working on an assignment, the best way to get things done quickly is to let go of any preconceptions of doing a great job, or having a perfect draft, and instead just focusing on having a draft. Bash out the worst draft you’ve ever written, fill it with run-on sentences and spelling mistakes. But make sure you finish a draft. Then all you have to do is edit it, and it’s a lot quicker to do it this way than it is getting bogged down in the details before you’ve even begun. 

When you’re studying for exams, the number one way to learn is through active recall. There is no point in wasting time writing out a full set of notes if you’re two days out from the test. Even if you feel like you don’t know a single thing, start off straight away by testing yourself - do past exams, drill flashcards, try and write outlines or mind maps and then check your notes or textbooks and fill in what you’ve missed. If you don’t know the answer or you get it wrong, look it up and try to understand it, and then test yourself again in twenty minutes. 

It’s important to strike a balance here: don’t overextend yourself, but don’t continually take breaks. If you think you need a break, you probably don’t. Take two minutes to stretch your legs and drink some water, but do not pick up your phone. If you’re starting to feel mentally fatigued, especially after a few hours, it can be helpful to switch locations - go outside and study on a park bench, or shift to the dining hall. Sometimes the change of scenery is all you need to feel refreshed. 

V. Rinse and repeat

This is your life now. Make sure you stick to a regular sleep schedule - aim for at least six hours a night - because otherwise your fatigue levels will seriously impact your memory, retention and critical thinking abilities. It’s not worth the few extra hours you might get in, and you probably won’t be productive anyway. 

Remember that the advice I’ve given you here is based on what I do when I am severely behind, not how I study on a daily basis when I’m on top of everything. These tips aren’t all great for long-term learning, but are the most efficient way to cram when you’re behind and under pressure. 

You’ve got this. 

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Three

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2828

Warnings: abusive behaviour, a lot of angsty stuff, drunken behaviour and a pinch of fluff

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Two | Masterlist

- - - - -

I sit alone on the bench outside the church, looking out at the empty graveyard in front of me. 

The miserable grey clouds above part and bright sunlight beams down to earth, shining on the Priest who is now walking up the path toward me. The light seems to be following him and as he moves closer I realise he’s dressed in a magnificent purple and gold gown. 

“Why are you wearing that?” I ask

“This is what I’m going to wear when I marry you” 

“Wow, I love it! Not sure Daniel will-”

“Who’s Daniel?” He asks and I laugh, but his serious face tells me he’s not joking.

“Daniel? My fiancé, the man I’m getting married to…”

“What are you talking about? You're marrying me remember?” He sits on the bench next to me, taking my hand and showing me the engagement ring on my finger, a ring I’ve never seen before.

“I- I don't understand. We’re engaged?”

“Are you feeling okay? Yes, we’re engaged and in a few weeks we’ll be husband and wife!” He holds my face gently in his hands and looks deeply into my eyes “I love you Y/N!”

He leans in and kisses me passionately.

— — — — 

My eyes shoot open and I realise I’m in bed. It was just a dream. Why do I feel slightly disappointed? 

Every night since that night at the church the Priest has been in my dreams, and every night the theme has been the same; the Priest and I are in love. 

I shake the thought out of my mind and roll over, reaching over to hug my real life fiancé but my arm falls straight down on the mattress. He isn’t there. 

I sit up and reach over to grab my phone off the bedside table. 9:30am! I must have needed that lie in. I roll out of bed, wrap my dressing gown around myself and head down stairs to the kitchen. I need coffee. 

Walking into the kitchen I find Daniel sat at the table waiting for me. 

“Morning!” I greet him cheerfully as I fill up the kettle “coffee?”

“No thanks.” He responds dismissively, changing the subject. “The other day, when I came home from the pub and you stormed out… where did you go?"

“I just went for a walk” I answer honestly

“Where?” 

“I don't know, I just wondered around for a bit and found a bench to sit on” 

“Alone?” 

“Yeah” I lie

“So you sat on a bench in the dark and drank all alone” He places an empty silver and green can on the table and looks at me accusingly, waiting for a response. 

“You went through my bag?” I silently curse myself for not throwing the can away yet.

“I was looking for something”

“What?”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” He slams his hand down on the can, crushing it against the table “You met him didn’t you? Father whatever his name is. I saw the same can of G&T in his office”

“Okay fine, yes I saw him. I didn’t plan to. I just went to the church to think. I thought it was empty but he was there and we talked for a bit”

“And drank”

“I was upset so he offered me a drink.”

“And then you lied to me about it” he says, getting up and slowly walking over to me.

“Because I knew you’d overreact!” I respond, poring the boiling water into my cup and stirring the coffee.

“Oh I’m overreacting am I? Tell me, how am I supposed to react when another man flirts with my fiancé in front of my face?”

“He hasn’t flirted with me Daniel, he’s our priest! He’s just trying to get to know us, but you won’t let him!” 

“I don’t want to get to know that creep!” 

“You know what? I can’t be bothered with this right now” I roll my eyes before saying three words I would instantly regret “You're being pathetic” 

I can almost see the red mist in Daniel’s eyes as he grabs my coffee cup and throws the boiling hot contents straight in my face. I suppress a scream as I wipe the coffee from my eyes, the liquid burning my skin. I run upstairs as fast as I can and lock myself in the bathroom, immediately  splashing cold water over myself. I soak a flannel in water and hold it over my face for a few minutes, trying to cool my burning skin. Daniel starts banging on the door, begging me to open up so he can apologise. When he starts to mention his dad I shut out the sound of his voice, choosing to ignore his excuses. I’ve heard them all before. 

When my skin finally starts to feel a little less on fire I remove the flannel and examine my blotchy red face in the mirror. A few small blisters have already started to form on my cheek and down the side of my neck. I bring my hand up to gently touch them, and hiss with pain as eyes instantly fill with tears. I cover my face with the flannel again and sit on the floor, leaning with my back against the door as Daniel continues to talk on the other side. I stay like that for however long it takes for him to finally leave me alone. Once I’m sure he’s gone I go silently to the bedroom, quickly get dressed and go downstairs. As I’m putting my shoes on Daniel comes running to me.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the hospital”

“No no, please- please don’t go. I’m sorry!” He panics.

“I need something to fix this” I argue, gesturing to the blisters and peeling skin.

“I can fix it!”

“Not this time” I walk out the house, slamming the door behind me. I hear it open again and I turn back to glare at Daniel as he’s about to step out. “Leave me alone!” I warn him before walking off, surprised that he actually obeys me for once. I hail a passing taxi and climb in the back. 

“A&E please” I say and he looks at me through the rear view mirror, his eyes widen as he sees the state I’m in but he doesn’t say anything. He just silently drives me where I need to go. 

— — — — 

“And how did this happen?” 

“I was carrying a cup of coffee when I slipped and fell, throwing the whole lot over myself.” I lie as convincingly as possible as the doctor examines my skin “I can be such a clutz sometimes”

I let out a small awkward laugh which the doctor ignores.

“Hm. Well you're lucky, there’s no permanent damage. It will be painful for a few days but it will heal. I’ll prescribe you some cream which will soothe it but in the mean time go home and take it easy. No more ‘accidents’ okay?” 

I can tell by her voice she doesn’t quite believe my story. 

“Thank you doctor” I say, taking the tube of cream off her and walking outside.

As I stand waiting for another taxi I realise, I’m not ready to face going home yet. There’s only one person I really want to see right now. 

— — — — 

Once again I find myself stood outside the big wooden doors of the church, suddenly doubting whether or not I should be here. I know I want to be here but I also know that if Daniel found out it would create yet another drama. I’m so trapped in my own moral dilemma that I don’t hear the footsteps approach behind me. 

“Y/N?”

I spin around to see the Priest walking toward me. His face goes from confusion, to horror as he sees my skin.

“Holy shit! What happened to your face?”

“I don't really wanna talk about it right now”

“Thats okay, you don't have to tell me anything” he smiles a gently smile and my heart flutters.

“I know it’s the middle of the day and you're my priest but… I don't suppose you have any more gin?”

“You’re in luck” his smile turns into a grin as he lifts up the bag in his hand and I hear the sound of cans clattering inside it.

— — — — 

A couple of hours and a few too many drinks later, the Priest and I are ever so slightly drunk and currently laughing about… well I don't actually know what. Everything just seems hilarious after a few cans of G&T. 

“You know, I think I’ve laughed more with you in the past week than I have in the past year with Daniel” I say, as he hands me another can “Maybe if you’d have been the Priest here when I was a teenager I wouldn’t have stopped coming. Teenage Y/N would have loved you. The old Priest just seemed so… judgy. I couldn’t think of anything worse than telling him my sins” 

“Hey that’s reminds me, you’ve never confessed to me! We should it now” 

“Oh no no no, absolutely not”

“Come on! It’ll be fun”

“Fun for you maybe, not for me! You just want to find out all my secrets”

“Of course I do, that’s why I do this job. That and so I can wear the outfits”

“You’re terrible” I laugh, shaking my head at him

“I know! That’s why you can tell me anything and I won’t judge you. I’ve probably done much worse” 

I get an idea. 

“Okay fine. I’ll confess to you. But you have to confess to me in return” 

“That’s not how this works”

“It is now! I’ll tell you my sins and you tell me yours”

“I’m a Priest, I don't sin”

“You're drunk in a church in the middle of the afternoon, pretty sure you're sinning right now”

“Good point” he thinks for a moment before getting up out his chair “okay, deal. Lets do this” 

I follow him out into the main church toward the confession box. He pulls open the curtain and gestures for me to enter. I do and he closes the curtain behind me before getting into the next box. I can just about see him through the holes in the wall. 

“You go first” I say quickly.

“Okay, um… I drink alcohol in my office on a regular basis”

“That’s a boring one!” I wine

“We’ll get to the good stuff eventually. Your turn”

“Fine. When I was 8 I stole a pencil topper from a bitchy girl in school because I liked it and I didn’t think she deserved it”

“A pencil topper? You criminal!” He laughs 

“It was shaped like Mickey Mouse!”

“How are you not in jail yet” he says sarcastically and I can hear the amusement in his voice “My turn. Sometimes when I hear Pam calling for me I hide in here and lie to her about where I am”

“I don't blame you, that woman scares me” 

“Right?! She’s terrifying!” 

We both burst into laughter, and as it dies down I realise it’s my turn again. I take a deep breath and speak again. 

“I lied to my Daniel about being with you the other night because I knew he’d get angry.” 

Without thinking my hand comes up to gently touch the burns on my face as my mind takes me back to the incident this morning. I snap out of it and turn to look at the wall. For a brief second I catch the Priest looking through the hole at me, but he turns to face the front. 

“I broke my vow of celibacy last year”

“I’ve been having inappropriate dreams about another man while laying in the same bed as my fiancé” 

“I’m in love with you” 

“What?” I say, trying to see him through the holes in the wall but he doesn’t look at me. He just stares down at the floor.

“I’m-” he pauses “I love you”

He finally looks up at me, the sudden eye contact almost takes my breath away. I don't know what to say, I’m completely lost for words. The intensity of his dark brown eyes is too much and I’m forced to look away, looking down as I fiddle nervously with the sleeves of my shirt. 

“Y/N?” 

I quickly get up and walk out of the booth, but he stays put. I stand for a moment looking at the curtain, wondering if he’s going to come out. When he doesn’t I realise its up to me to make a choice. 

I could tell the Priest how I feel about him. I could admit that I’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss him, to hold him, to wake up next to him.

Or I could leave right now and pretend none of this happened, go back home to Daniel. The man I’m engaged to marry. The man who I’ve loved since school. The man who, just this morning, threw boiling hot coffee in my face. 

I make a decision. 

I open the curtain to see the priest still sat on the tiny bench, and he looks up at me with wide eyes. He watches as I squeeze into the booth with him, placing my hands on either side of his face. He stands up slowly so our faces are inches apart and slowly moves in. 

“I love you too”

He looks into my eyes one last time before I close the gap, our lips crashing together. I keep expecting to wake up any second now, for this to just be another cruel emotionally confusing dream. 

But this is real. 

I’m kissing a priest. 

Part Four

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines

[kurinoot]

[day 9] nine home remedies | kuroo tetsuroo

-> much to your wishes, your boyfriend who happens to be the captain of the boys volleyball team that you’re managing still went to practice despite being sick, so you give him a taste of your own medicine, literally

pairing: kuroo x reader

themes: fluff (with a bit of spice), manager!reader, some humor innit lol

warnings: mature innuendos here and there (and that’s it uwu), mild language (just one curse word lol)

word count: 3,379 words

note: sorry for the late LATE post. School has begun again and this fic is pretty long compared to the past ones :( but here’s the update now hehe I hope you guys like it! Also, thank you so much to @xmyshya, @ssrated1volleyballplayer, @meiansmistress​, and @vanille--kiss for proofreading this one for me! Father Meian would be so proud uwu. And also, to my friend who has been part of this since Day 1, @msmeowski​, I really owe you one!

“How many times do I have to tell you that you should’ve skipped practice today?” You sigh as you accompany your boyfriend with his arm slung over your shoulder to his house, albeit weak and flushed. Kuroo only grunts in response. 

“What, you’re my mom now?” He quips. You glare in his direction, as you have already given him an earful on how his health should be a priority and how he shouldn't choose practice over his well-being. As soon as you enter his house, his grandmother sees the two of you scurrying inside, greeting you with a gentle smile.

“Ah welcome Y/N-chan! Oh! What happened to you, Tekkun?” his grandmother remarks. 

“Baa-chan! It’s Tetsurou!” Kuroo coughs. You could only bow your head at her with respect as you speak on his weakened behalf. 

“Baa-chan! I told this rooster head right here to not go to practice for today because he’s sick, but he still did!”

“Oh, did he really now?” She replies as she instantly glares at her grandson, who is eyeing the sofa, seeking the comfort of its warm, soft surface. His grandmother then pinches hard on her grandson’s cheek. 

“You shouldn't make things harder for Y/N-chan!”

“Baa-chan! Your grandson is sick and you’re still scolding me?” He retorts, earning another pinch and earful from his grandmother before motioning you inside as she prepares the sofa for Kuroo to rest as you follow suit.

“Y/N-chan, will you help brew some tea and make Hachimitsu Daikon for Tetsu-chan?” his grandmother asks as she helps the captain on the couch. You nod before glaring at the sorry state of your boyfriend.

“You better not move from there, mister. I’m gonna brew you some tea.” You order as the captain could only painfully cough in reply, jokingly.

“Yes, ma!”

You quickly set up the kettle, placing it on the stove before preparing the tea. As you wait for the water to boil, you prep the Hachimitsu Daikon mixture, mixing the daikon and honey together before letting it set on the counter. You then hear his grandmother come to the kitchen, and you perk up at her smiling presence, taking two shopping bags with her.

“I’ll be going out to the market, Y/N-chan. Take care of Tekkun for me.” You wave goodbye as she leaves, amused at their cute relationship.

You leave the jar on the table to let the mixture come together as you lift the kettle and pour its contents into the mug with the tea leaves before serving it to your ailing boyfriend. 

“Sit up! Here’s some tea. It’ll help with your cold. Also, I made some Hachimitsu Daikon for you on the table, okay? Baa-chan taught me this one, and said that it was good for your sore throat.”

His hand feebly reaches for the mug in yours, brushing his fingers against yours. He holds your hand for a moment as he looks intently at you. “Manager-chan, I know you’re concerned about me right now,” Kuroo takes the mug from your hands, shifting his focus to the mug on his palms. “But I can take care of myself from here. The younger ones need their pretty manager.”

You quirk an eyebrow, unamused at his statement—huffing as you put your hands on your hips. “As the manager, and as your girlfriend, I’m obligated to take care of the entire team, which also includes my boyfriend. Besides, I’m pretty sure the others are worried about you as well.”

“You never go down without a fight, huh? How annoying,” he obnoxiously says, but thankful nonetheless. He blows into the mug before daintily sipping the tea, sighing in relief as he looks at you. “I didn't know I needed that. Thanks so much, baby girl,” he says with a smile.

Your heart warms at the gesture as you quickly grab your bag, pulling out your first aid pouch and grabbing a sheet of KoolFever, much to your boyfriend’s surprise. You quickly remove the film covering as you gently place it on his sweltering forehead, prompting Kuroo to sigh in contentment as the contrasting cool sheet lays over his spiking hot forehead.

“Ah~ sometimes I wish I could be sick forever...” he places the mug on the coffee table before suddenly pulling you to his lap. “You’d be my cute nurse, baby girl~” He burrows his flustered face to your chest, to which you only spit in disgust. You ruffle his hair as you chuckle in sarcasm. 

“Oh by the way, I’m telling Coach Nekomata to give you 15 more diving drills to make up for today.”

“B-baby, n-no need to be harsh on me,” Kuroo attempts to give you the cutest cat eyes, appealing to your cat-loving side, and although you feel the need to hug your man, you resist his advancements.

“Stop staring at me with those big eyes!” You shove his face away from you as you continue. “Also you’re sweaty, so I’ll get the bath running.”

You manage to untangle yourself from his arms before you enter the bathroom, drawing him a warm bath. Afterwards, you step out of the bathroom with the water running, with tufts of steam leaking out the door ajar.

“Oi, jiisan, bath’s ready!” You pull out a fresh white towel from one of the cabinets as Kuroo slowly stands up at your cue. You go to aid him as he walks on the way to the bathroom, pulling a half-scowl on his face.

“Oi, you do know that I’m not old, right?”

“Hm-hmm. Says the person who says ‘Ah, youth.’”

Kuroo, amused at your clapbacks, chooses to stay silent instead as you help him towards the bathroom. You check the water to see if it’s warm enough as Kuroo lethargically takes off his shirt, fumbling around. You chuckle at his helpless sight, amused at his feeble form, although your eyes keep lingering back to his sweaty torso. Thankfully, his head is stuck in his uniform, so he doesn't have a reason to tease you, and although you need to help him with his uniform, you try not to be tempted to touch his lean, muscular abdominals and his perking pectorals.

“Uhm, ah, I’ll leave you to it!” You shyly mutter as you attempt to scurry out of the bathroom, to no avail as your boyfriend pulls you into a hug, burying his head in your shoulder in the process. You feel his warm breath wantonly brush against the nape of your neck as his ripped torso touches against you, bringing blood on your cheeks in embarrassment. Your heart palpitates as you swallow the lump in your throat in anticipation.

“You perv, you intentionally looked at me while I was naked...” He provokingly whispers in your ear as he gently caresses your hair, leaving you with trails of shivers down your spine. 

“You do know that you need to be punished, right, baby girl?”

You grit your teeth at his underlying pestering as your thoughts are left at the tip of your tongue. Damn, he really knows how to push the right buttons, huh?!

Kuroo smirks at your struggle, more so with the flustered expression on your face, but feels all of his confidence go down the drain almost instantly. 

“I can’t just let an old man pathetically get stuck with his shirt on his head. Now, what would others—especially Lev and Yaku—say if they found out that their cool captain can’t even remove his shirt?”

T-This woman… Kuroo thinks as he feels his mind short circuit at the turn of events. He tries to push more buttons to try and rile you up, which only proves to be futile. 

You then break the ice before going out of the bathroom. “Now I’m gonna go out for a bit and I expect you to be undressed AND in the tub by the time I come back, okay Kuroo-jiisan?”

“Will you stop calling me jiisan already?!”

By the time you return, you are greeted by clouds of steam and you are graced with the view of your boyfriend naked and resting in the filled warm tub.

You then do a quick series of arm stretching, preparing yourself before grabbing the mint-scented shampoo placed in a small cupboard nearby. You squeeze a decent amount of it on your hand, lathering it before you massage the dollop of bubbles onto his scalp. As you massage the shampoo into his hair, you can’t help but feel relaxed in the atmosphere—you shampooing his hair, the calm sloshing sound of the rippling water, the gentle sounds echoing on the bathroom walls, the looming fresh scent of mint, and the almost inaudible sound of his purr.

Oh my gosh, he’s purring like a cat, you think in fascination as you continue threading your fingers onto his hair whilst humming contentedly. Meanwhile, the man in the tub is in complete relaxation mode, feeling satisfied at the sensation of the warm water and your presence. 

He releases a low purr as he simmers himself into the warm tub of sudsy water, closing his eyes at the soothing kneading of your hands in his hair. You then place a quick gentle peck on his shoulder before grabbing the shower head, rinsing his hair with care to avoid splashing water on your dry clothes.

“Ah, that feels really good...” you hear Kuroo unknowingly whisper in relief, which makes you feel warm and fuzzy with contentment. You then grab the soap sitting on the wall side of the tub, lathering it as you rub your way down his body. 

Another wave of soft purrs emanates from his lips as you gently knead the sore muscles of his back, instantly feeling the knots leaving his body. You feel him recline into your touch as he turns to putty in your hands, releasing a deep contented sigh. It doesn't last long as you rinse the trails of suds with water, leaving a final peck on his now clean shoulder.

“I’ll leave you for a minute.”

You make your way to the living room and grab the Salonpas and KoolFever from your bag, and proceed to the kitchen to grab a tray and pour another cup of the herbal tea. Once the Hachimitsu Daikon settles in, you look around for a spoon, carrying it alongside the container of the syrup. You head back to his room only to see Kuroo sitting on the bed, with his hair still wet and a towel hanging on his neck. 

You sigh as you place the tray on his bedside table before giving him a spoonful of the syrup. You grab his towel from his neck gently, shuffling to his back as you drape the towel over his head. Your fingers tenderly graze through his wet locks, which is surprisingly soft compared to his usual bedridden rooster hair. Tempted, you leave soft pecks on his sweltering forehead while continuing to dry his hair. His hazel eyes gaze at the tray before seeing the green onion.

"Y/N-chan, what’s that?" he says as he points to the green onion.

“What? You don’t know the famous home remedy?”

It is actually the opposite. He knows it all too well. It’s just that, Kuroo isn’t sure if you are going to:

A) wrap it around his neck

or worse

B) stick it up in his ass

Knowing you, as the manager and his girlfriend, it would most likely be the latter. He knows he needs to butter you up to avoid the worst choice out of the two.

"You should thank Baa-chan. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't know how to make it specially for you." You hold his warm cheeks in your hands, feeling the sweat forming from his fever. Under your touch, he nuzzles against the cool touch of your touch on his face. Hurriedly, he clasps your hands as he brushes it against his lips, tenderly kissing your wrists.

“Y/N-chan,” he directs his eyes towards you, whilst pecking your wrists. “You’re so warm...”

Your cheeks dye in rose from his sudden affection, pulling away from him before anything could happen. “L-Let me apply some salonpas to you, since you’re done with the s-syrup...” 

Kuroo’s attention keeps going back and forth to you and the green onion on the tray, feeling the slight tension of his heartbeat as time passes by. You then grab the pack of salonpas as you motion for his shirt, but he quickly lays down on the bed, lifting the hem of his shirt for a quick tease as he displays his sweating abdominals. He devilishly fixes his gaze to you with the cutest cat eyes before rolling on his stomach. “Help me, Ms. Manager~”

You feel the need to slap this idiot who unbelievably is the captain of your volleyball team, but quietly sigh ‘another time’. You sigh as your hand glides up to his well-defined back, caressing every touch against his broad back. Your thumb is pressed against his feverish skin before hearing Kuroo's grunts, possibly aching in some parts. Once you've identified the places around his aching rear, you start unpacking the Salonpas.

“Oho? You even have Salonpas with you? Ms. Manager, you're always prepared,” he nonchalantly chuckles, followed by coughing fits as you work on putting on the medicinal patches.

“I'm the manager for a reason. And besides, we work best together, like blood, so if one of you gets sick,” you finish placing the last patch of Salonpas as you start massaging the patches before directing your attention towards him.

"What's the Nekoma team without one another?"

As if taken by surprise by your response, Kuroo gives off a low chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Y/N-chan, after this little thing," Kuroo tucks his arms under his pillows as he buries his face, exposing only half as he gazes directly into your eyes. A playful smirk on his lips as he teasingly exposes his neck, his muscles on his back displayed. 

"Let’s go on a date."

Undeniably, you feel the heat rising in your cheeks at his sudden remark. After a brief pause, you clear your throat, evading his statement. “Y-You…! You have the stamina to be this cheesy when you need to rest?” You tell him as you finish massaging his back. He cheekily grins as he suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you into him. He attempts to give you a playful peck on your lips, to no avail as you shove his face back to his pillow. 

“N-no need to be this aggressive, b-babe...” Pouting, he digs his face into his pillows as you notice him eyeing the green onion on your tray. Your eyes light up as your lips grin with a devilish plan in mind.

He eyes you as you retract, with your hand hovering over the tray. His pupils dilate with his heart palpitating in each second. 

Is it A or B?! Will you choke him or shove it in his ass?! 

His particular train of thought is suddenly cut short as you hold the green onion in your hand. His instincts blare up, feeling it as if they were saying ‘run’ over and over, screaming at himself.

“Alright, Tetsurou,” it is the moment of truth. His neck or virginity are at stake as he internally pleads to the gods for a miracle.

“Stick out your neck.” 

A sigh of relief escapes from his lips, just as he feels his desires fulfilled. You then look at him questioningly as you give him a double-edged smile. Much to his lack of knowledge, he gives you a grin, feeling comforted at the decision to choke him rather than deflowering his ass while trying to treat him of his sickness. He hums, closing his eyes, expecting the plant to be wrapped around his neck, only for him to feel the familiar warmth of your lips instead which makes him look down at you. He sees the familiar glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are smirking make his stomach lurch.

Oh no—

“Now you better lay down on your stomach, mister.”

The following morning, the entire Nekoma team goes to check on their captain and on you, worried since you did not reply to their messages last night. Yaku initiates by proceeding to knock on the door, only to be welcomed by the sight of an elderly woman, smiling at them as she welcomes them. “Oh good morning, boys! Tekkun and Y/N-chan are still sleeping upstairs.” She sees the knowing stares between the team as she ushers them inside.

“So this is Kuroo-san’s home...” Lev wanders in fascination as he eyes his surroundings, basking in the environment and its homey atmosphere for the first time. Inuoka seems to feel the same as he smiles, with his eyes sparkling and wandering around the humble abode. Kuroo’s grandmother returns to the kitchen while the rest keep on chattering behind.

Disregarding the banter behind him, Yaku goes on and casually opens the door to the sight of you snuggled with each other, steadily breathing as your hands unconsciously massage Kuroo’s torso, leaving trails of your warm touch on it. The other hand on his shoulder unknowingly massages them reassuringly as the both of you succumb in each other’s presence and comfort.

“Aww look how cute you are, you guys...” Yaku sighs with underlying tease (and perhaps a hint of jealousy) as he walks and checks on you and your boyfriend’s sleeping figure, only to see later, in the captain’s partial state of undress on his lower posterior, a thick stalk of green onion protruding from between his clenching buttcheeks. 

He tries to contain his laughter, failing as a full-out cackle escapes his mouth, only for the rest of the team to enter the room and see their captain’s stalked bare posterior, following suit in Yaku’s failed attempt to hold onto his laughter. Kenma, who usually wears a blank expression, is now snickering at the sight before him, much to the surprise of the rest as the setter even takes a snap of it.

A loud groan from the sleeping captain turns the entire room silent as an awake Kuroo, albeit still fuzzy and tranced, rubs one of his eyes. He unconsciously lets out a yawn before his consciousness becomes more clear, finally registering that his teammates are right in his room.

“Oh you guys! Whaddya doin’ here?” he slurs.

“Ah, the guys wanted to know how you were doing and your grandmother happily told us to come in,” Kai replies with his usual smile as he waves at the freshly awoken captain.

“So L/N-san is also here...” Lev utters as his feline eyes land on your sleeping figure, happily snoring your worries away. The entire team pauses for a while just to look and appreciate you in your seemingly deep slumber.

“Waaah, L/N-san looks so cute!”

“Cute...”

Tetsuroo enjoys the attention showered upon you, prompting him to adjust his position on the bed only for him to realize fully the state of his partial nudity on his now aching posterior. He releases a grunt which only turns all the attention in the entire room back to him. Yaku snorts at the view as Yamamoto follows suit, only louder this time. 

“O-Oi, whaddya lookin at?” Kuroo scowls at everyone.

Lev snickers at the captain’s condition, albeit with pure curiosity, “Kuroo-san, why is there a green onion stuck in your butthole?”

Kuroo looks at him with disdain while trying to hide the embarrassment from within, “E-Eh! You didn’t know? This is an a-ancient remedy for fevers!”

“That sounds like a nice remedy. I should try it sometime!” Lev naively replies as Kenma looks at him in distaste before he looks at your sleeping frame with a calm expression.

“Don’t even try to do it, Lev.”

The rest of the members, even including Fukunaga, are already laughing at the captain’s plight, only increasing in volume as it effectively wakes you up from your slumber.

“Yeah right. You really let me stick an onion up in your ass? Kinky,” you raspily groan as you rub both eyes to consciousness, only leaving the team on their stomachs even more.

Happy Valentine’s Day to him, indeed. 

click here to see where the green onion idea comes from lol

back to the valentines masterlist

[lightbeyondeden]

Beachouse

Beachouse

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

a/n: i like to imagine this one with like,, season 4 spence cause I think that just the right amount of innocent yet horny for this oneshot but it's up to you. Also i used a bunch of dialogue prompts from this list :) see if you can spot them! 

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: kinda smut!! spencer being horny, alcohol, cursing, makeout sesh with heavy petting lol

masterlist

She was trying to kill him.

 As a man of logic and reasoning, Spencer had concluded the only probable reason his very attractive coworker would insist on parading around the small cabin the team had rented for the weekend in those tiny white cotton shorts was that she wanted to kill him. 

Spencer had always found her attractive. He would’ve had to have been blind not to, and even if he was he still would’ve fallen for the sound of her laugh or the way she left the smell of lavender wherever she sat on the jet or how she was always first to fall asleep after long days spent working cases. 

So maybe he had fallen in love with her - even if he hadn’t quite admitted it to himself yet. Love, however, was not quite what he felt as he watched Y/n walk lazily into the kitchen on that Saturday morning.

Spencer had been sitting on one of the barstools that lined the kitchen counter and sipping on a very sugary cup of coffee. He was passively listening to both the birds chirping outside the oversized cabin window and JJ’s latest story about Henry. He had felt nothing but peace, until she walked in. 

She was wearing a baby blue tank top (with no bra, not that Spencer was looking of course it’s just that as she was walking in and his eyes just happened to graze over her hard nip-, nevermind.) and those white shorts. The outfit was probably perfect for sleeping in the cabin that - even now in the early hours of the morning - remained hot and humid. It was not, however, perfect for just chatting with Spencer, he already felt an uncomfortable stirring in his pants.  

“Hey guys.” She smiled, voice still soft with sleep.

“Hi Y/n, you sleep well?” JJ said without missing a beat, “Lemme get you some coffee.”

JJ got out of her seat and set to work making a new cup of coffee from the keurig that sat on the counter behind her.

“Thank you Jayge, you’re my favourite.” Y/n laughed. 

Spencer watched with intent as she brushed her hand through her bedhead and took her own seat at the counter across from him. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n said as she locked eyes with Spencer. 

Crap, he hadn’t meant to stare. Honestly though, he couldn’t help it. So much of her body was on display and though Spencer considered himself to be a respectful man, he had dreamt of that body more times than he cared to admit and seeing it like this was driving him crazy. 

“Like what?” He replied, hoping that playing dumb would get him out of this.

She eyed him suspiciously, however Spencer was saved from the incoming interrogation by JJ returning, coffee in hand. 

Y/n gratefully took the cup in her hands and sipped in gently. Try as he might, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at her over and over again as conversation between the three resumed. 

Slowly the rest of the team began to wake up and wander into the kitchen. Conversation was playful and light, this vacation being exactly the break they needed from their stressful work lives. It may have only been four days, but any amount of time that they didn’t have to spend talking about all the horrible things they saw each day was time they thoroughly enjoyed. 

“So I was thinking we could take a trip down to that hidden beach the airBNB people were telling us about. It would be fun to all go swimming together!” Penelope had said, big doe eyes daring someone to try telling her no.

So that's why a team of thirty to fifty somethings were all walking down a wooden boardwalk together, arms filled with floaties and towing a wagon full of snacks (wagon courtesy of JJ). Spencer just happened to look over at Y/n at the exact moment the beach came into view, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that because getting to see the way her face lit up when she saw the lake made his day.

“There's a doc!?” She squealed, “Morgan! I’ll race you to it.” 

And just like that  - the two of them took off, splashing into the water and yelling playful challenges and insults at each other, Emily and Penelope close behind. Spencer just chuckled as he settled down into the sand with a pile of books beside them. 

Truth be told he didn’t get much reading done. He chatted with JJ and Rossi, he binged on candy and chips, and most often, spent the day ogling Y/n. He just couldn’t understand how she managed to look so perfect even after Derek had thrown her off the floating wooden dock for what must’ve been the thirtieth time that day. 

When she finally came marching up the beach, soaking wet and out of breath, Spencer wondered if there was ever a situation where she could look bad. Covered in goosebumps - though the sun was sweltering hot - she tightly wrapped a towel around herself and plopped down in the sand between JJ and Rossi. 

“Hey SP!” He chuckled at her nickname for him “Can you pass that bag of chips over here please?”

The rest of the day was spent soaking in the sun. It was full of jokes and swimming and Y/n’s head on Spencer's shoulder. He watched her and JJ pass a volleyball back and forth, he saw the team smile more in one afternoon than he had in the last month. They finally decided to pack it in the sun was nothing more than a sliver on the horizon. 

They walked home to the dulcet sounds of crickets and Penelope's voice retelling all the best stories of the day. Spencer's mind moved much faster than his feet did, but all thoughts were halted when he felt a cold set of fingers grab onto his hand. That was one of his favourite things about her - the fact that she loved physical touch. Of course, at first he had a strong aversion to her love of hugs, hand holding, and cuddles, but as they grew into a close knit partnership he found himself longing for a hug from her after hard cases or for her hand to hold when he's walking to the bookstore. 

When the team got back to their beach house it was quiet for a moment, as everyone was worn down from all their hours in the sun, their skin kissed with its warmth even though it had set more than an hour ago. Emily, ever a shit disturber, broke the serenity the walk home had created the second she broke out the bottles of wine from the fridge.

Y/n’s had slipped out of Spencers as she and the girls got to work pouring and drinking as many glasses as they could get out of each bottle.

“Movie time!” Penelope declared, plopping herself down on the couch between Derek and Rossi. 

Everyone else settled in, and Penelope flicked through Netflix - occasionally announcing a title to the group to gauge a reaction and giving her own opinions on each. She finally landed on ‘Clueless’, a film Spencer had never heard of - despite Penelope and JJ insisting it was a classic. 

Everyone was tired, you could tell that without being a profiler, but the group was so set on finishing their day together that everyone sat and watched the movie with heavy eyelids. Y/n was hit by sleep like a truck, and Spencer could tell. Her head fell on Spencer's shoulder and he let his own arms rest around her. It was fine, they were best friends. Best friends can cuddle on late nights - it doesn't mean anything to either of them anyway. 

Except it did. It meant everything to Spencer. When he grabbed her hand it wasn’t even really a conscious decision, he just reached out and gripped onto her - he barely even noticed that he did it. 

Y/n noticed. 

Her eyes shot up to meet his own. 

“What was that for?” Her tone was joking but there was a realness behind the whispered question. 

“I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright?  It’s a… Terrifying… Rom-com… ” Spencer defended. 

They both looked up at the screen to see a scene of a blonde girl driving a jeep down the middle of the road and burst into laughter, gaining some looks and laughs from the other people in the room. 

“I mean, you’re right. Unsafe driving practices sure are terrifying. Why do you think Hotch doesn’t let me drive anymore?”

“Because it's a hazard to everyone in the car and the berau called you ‘a hazard to the safety of yourself and your team’ when you drive?” Spencer quipped back, earning more laughter from the rest of the group.

Y/n just shook her head and laughed before dropping back down onto Spencer’s shoulder. However Spencer went the other direction, releasing his grasp on Y/n’s hand and setting it at his side instead.

“Why’d you let go of me?” She whispered into his ear. 

Spencer allowed himself to let out some of what he had been feeling for as long as he had known her. He looked her dead in the eyes and and tried to communicate all of his feelings telepathically - but all he said was;

“I was scared...”

She looked at him and Spencer suddenly changed his mind about the whole telepathy thing, suddenly praying she can’t see the longing in his eyes.

“Come with me.”

So they got up, said a very rushed goodnight to their friends, and took off towards Y/n’s bedroom. When she opens the door Spencer is hit by a wall of the vanilla perfume she uses. If it was anyone else, he would have found it overwhelming, but because it was her it was more like something intoxicating. 

She sat him down on the bed and took a spot beside him. Her eyes looked up and met his honey brown ones, and in hindsight Spencer swore he could pick that as the exact moment his heart rate picked up. 

“So are you gonna tell me what’s been going on with you? Why you’ve been acting so strange?” She was still whispering even though the group was well out of earshot. 

He didn’t respond, his head was fuzzy and he was just trying his best to put together a coherent thought.

“I’m your friend SP!” She laughed, trying again “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Sometimes I want to makeout with you, is that a friend thing to do?” 

Spencer's words hung in the air and he so badly wished he could take them back. Why would he jeopardize the relationship he had with her? For what? Some inane fantasy he had where they were together? The silence made the air crushingly heavy, and Spencer got up to leave but was stopped by her gripping his arm. 

She stood up and cupped her hand on his face, and it felt like they stood there like that for an hour. Spencer so desperately wanted to close the gap between them but the paralyzing fear that he was badly misreading her gesture stopped him. 

But then she did. She pushed her lips against his and Spencer immediately melted into her. Soft fingertips on his cheeks turned into hands intertwined in his curls, his own hands finding their rightful spot on her hips. 

They tangled together, the room filled with the sound of their desperate breaths. In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence Spencer ran a hand under her top and rested it on the small of her back. That was all the encouragement Y/n needed to clamber into his lap, never even breaking their kiss. 

“Wait-” Spencer pulled back, breathless, “What does this mean? What are we doing?”

“I love you. It took me way too long to realize it but I just want to spend all my time with you, that's how I know. I love you.” Y/n whispered into his neck, still perched gently on top of him. 

Spencer laughed a little at the absurdity of this moment. Girls like Y/n don’t love guys like Spencer - he almost wouldn’t believe it if it was any other girl. But it wasn’t any other girl, he trusted Y/n with his life - he knew she meant it.

“I love you too. I always have.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again.

~

Click.

Spencer jolted awake to the sound of Penelope’s cell phone camera going off. He moved to rub his eyes but found that his right arm was trapped under a shirtless Y/n. 

Now he understood why Penelope was taking pictures. 

“I got asked to check on you two - you know, see if you were awake.” Penelope was obviously trying very hard to hold back her excitement. “However it seems like I am interrupting something. So I will leave you lovebirds to it.” 

She turned and sauntered out the door, but Spencer heard her laughing to herself in the hallway and he knew that in a few minutes the whole world would know exactly what Penelope thought about the compromising position she had just found them in. 

The world could wait though, Spencer decided. Y/n had stayed peacefully asleep somehow, and he could feel the heat of her bare skin all over him. 

So he pulled her closer, for that one more minute of bliss. One more minute of happiness.

 One more minute of Y/n.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Temptation

AN: I... I don’t even know what to say except for I’m so sorry? We had some tech issues at work today and I had this idea while I waited and it didn’t fit with Slides so here’s some plot with porn at the end with Mat? I wrote this in first person narrative but there’s no name or description in it. Also this is my first time writing anything like this and I didn’t spend much time proof-reading so please don’t judge too harshly

AN 2: I wrote a sequel called No Control and you can find it here so please check it out!!

Word count: 7.4k (things escalated what can I say..)

Warnings: cursing and smut, like really explicit content

He was only wearing a towel. Again. Seeing him walking around in nothing but shorts was already bad enough but this was on a whole other level.

When Mat had first invited me to come with him to his lake house by Vancouver to wait this mess out I had been thrilled. Fancy lake house overlooking the water with my best friend definitely sounded better than stuffy Brooklyn apartment in a city crammed with thousands of people infected.

Thankfully my online classes made the journey across the country possible and I only had to fly back for a short while to take my final exams. This wasn’t really how I envisioned my summer after graduating college but it could be worse I guess.

As I took a look at him all glistening wet from his shower on his way over to me by the kitchen island, I felt like I was trapped in an episode of temptation island or something like that.

Neither of us had expected this lockdown to last this long and almost two months of being holed up together was starting to take its toll. I’d known for a fact that I’d go batshit crazy if I were to stay with my own family or my crazy roommate though so his offer had truly been godsend. With the fancy club I usually waitressed at closed there was no way I’d be able to pay for my rent either, so I’d given my landlord my notice, put everything that I wouldn’t take with me in storage and followed Mat across the country.

His family was supposed to be up here with us and that way I’d have his sister as a distraction, but they’d decided to stay in the city, meaning it was only Mat and I. And my sexual frustration.

It didn’t help that my quarantine buddy looked like a fucking Greek god either. Any nun would probably go for him as well, frustrated or not. And I was definitely not a nun.

“Do you want to go paddle boarding after breakfast? The water shouldn’t be too cold today with the sun out.”

I looked out through the large floor to ceiling windows at Mat’s question, I’d been so distracted by him running around practically naked that I hadn’t even noticed that for the first time in three days there were almost no clouds visible. With May well underway British Columbia was apparently finally getting ready for summer.

“Yeah let’s do it. I still have to respond to a couple of emails before we leave tho.”

He took a look over my shoulder at my laptop, water droplets from his hair falling down my neck making me squirm.

“You’re getting me all wet”, I huffed before giving him a shove. Not thinking about the way his muscular shoulders felt underneath my fingers at all. Definitely not thinking about that. Nope.

“You’re the first girl I’ve ever heard complain about that you know?” He winked at me before throwing his head back in laughter as I flipped him off. The flirty banter that had been going on between us ever since we met almost two years ago wasn’t really helping my case either.

I was convinced the only reason why we hadn’t hooked up yet was terrible timing. We’d met at a time when both of us were seeing others and by the time we both were single again the previous months of platonic friendship had set our relationship in stone, never allowing for anything more than playful flirting and teasing. I’d thought about it for a couple of times, because honestly who wouldn’t with the way he looked?

Mat filled a cup with coffee and grabbed some of the breakfast I’d prepared before pulling out the chair next to me, looking at me expectantly. I was still munching on the remainder of my overnight oats so it took me a couple of seconds to swallow before I could ask what the hell he was waiting for.

“For you to finish whatever it is that you need to do. I have nothing else to do”

“I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me like this. Go work out or something.”

Mat had a really nice gym set up in one of the rooms and let me tell you if I had to pick one place to plank for the rest of the life, it would definitely be in there so I could at least watch the calming water while I died such a slow painful death.

“I already worked out, that’s why I just got out of the shower.”

“Well then put some fucking clothes on, you’re not some cave man who can get away with only wearing a loincloth”, I exclaimed, slowly getting flustered with him in such close proximity while knowing that one tuck could expose him completely. He cackled but got up nevertheless, making his way back towards his bedroom.

“Me being naked is yet another thing no one has ever complained about either, you wound me.”

“I’m sure Tito would disagree!”, I yelled, desperate to have the last word so I could at least keep some semblance of control in this situation. I could hear him laugh all the way from the other end of the house and quickly shook my head so I could finally get some things sorted out before he got back.

With the way the sun was shining right now I could probably get away with wearing only a t shirt over my swimsuit, which was a lot better than the full-on wetsuit we’d donned whenever we’d spent our time doing any water activities over the past few weeks. Although Mat in a wetsuit was truly a sight to see, with the way the fabric clung to him so tight that you could see every ridge of his muscles underneath.

I hustled through my emails, ready to relax for the day. Perhaps I could even start on my summer tan already, being out on the water always sped things up. Thankfully I’d bothered to bring lots of clothes and a bit of online shopping had closed any gaps that I had in my wardrobe, this bikini being one of the new acquirements as well. It was super cute and my butt looked really good in it and it would look even better once I finally got my tan going.

Mat was already lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through his phone and looking annoyingly perfect as ever. I knew for a fact that he hadn’t done anything with his hair and it looked so soft that I just wanted to push my hands through it. And pull it until he groaned.

“That one’s new”, he immediately said once he lifted his gaze to look at me, pulling me out of my fantasies. I hadn’t put my shirt on yet so he was getting the full view of me in the bikini, which might have been on purpose. I knew that quarantine must be getting to him as well and he wasn’t the only one that could be a tease.

I nodded, biting my lip before twirling around so he could get all angles. “You like?”

This bikini was a little bit skimpier than the ones he’d seen me in before and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t as relaxed at the sight as he pretended to be. Finally.

We grabbed our paddles and boards and slowly made our way out on the water. It still took me a couple of minutes to find my balance, no matter how many times I’d done this before but eventually I managed, Mat now slightly ahead of me. If I had my phone with me I would definitely take pictures of him right now, they’d be outdoor magazine worthy.

“Come on slow poke, what’s keeping you?”, he yelled over his shoulder and I was tempted to splash him but I already knew that that would end up in a fight I couldn’t possibly win so I only stuck my tongue out before working to catch up.

At first we kept close to the shore but eventually we slowly made our way out farther onto the lake, laying down on our boards to enjoy the gentle up and down of the water. The sun was hotter than anticipated so both Mat and I ended up taking off our shirts and using them as pillows instead. I closed my eyes to keep me from staring at him, instead relishing in the way the sun warmed my face.

“This is what life should always be like”, Mat sighed contently, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You’d miss hockey eventually. You belong on the ice.”

“Probably. But right now I’m not missing a thing ‘cause I got everything I need right here.”

I didn’t want to look at him out of fear of what I might see on his face, only giving him an affirmative hum instead.

-

“You’re seriously the best”, Mat sighed after emptying his drink yet again. I had decided that tonight would be taco night and made some margaritas to accompany them, both of us a couple of glasses in by now. It honestly could be a Tuesday but who even knows anymore. I was convinced that at least part of the reason why Mat had asked me to come with him was because he liked my food so much, especially when I cooked Mexican.

The sun was setting over the lake and we were sitting outside on the porch so we could watch the sun set above the water, music playing quietly in the background. He reached for the pitcher and I grabbed the golf club leaning against the sofa we were currently sharing, even though there was lots of space to lounge elsewhere.

Now I didn’t really like golfing, in fact I thought it was among the most boring sports to watch and not much better to play, but I did like to swing at the ball as hard as I could. I’d found some golf balls that would dissolve into food for the fish so for the last couple of hours Mat and I had taken turns in trying to get the ball as far as possible, both of us with a subpar form that only got worse after every margarita.

“No you need to rotate your hips along with the swing”, Mat commented and I threw him a look over my shoulder.

“You’re not much better you know.”

“Yeah but I’m also stronger than you so I can hit harder.”

“I’m not sure if that’s how it works Matty.”

For my next swing I made sure to exaggeratedly turn my hips with the movement, causing me to lose balance of course. In a split second Mat was there, his big hands resting on either side of my hips so I wouldn’t fall.

“Good reflexes”, I giggled, letting my head drop back onto his shoulder so I could look up at him, our eyes locking in an intense stare. He was standing so close to me that I could feel his breath fan across my neck it was very tempting to take the little step that was needed for me to be pressed against him completely. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this, but the alcohol wasn’t exactly helping.

I could see him swallow hard, closing his eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go of me. “It’s what they pay me millions for you know.”

“Cocky little shit.” And just like that we fell back into our old rhythm again. I pushed any and all dirty thoughts out of my mind and instead focused back on my golf swing.

With every sip I felt myself relax more, the amount of alcohol in the second pitcher definitely stronger than in the first. I knew that Mat felt the effect of the alcohol as well by now, the way his gaze would turn unfocused from time to time giving him away.

I gave him a curious glance when he got up, knowing for a fact that him with a golf club would be a dangerous combination if he tried anything right now. To my surprise he walked over to the box where all the blankets were stashed, pulling out the fluffy grey one that I liked most before spreading it across both of our legs. He surprised me even further when he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side so I could rest my head on his chest. While behavior like this wasn’t completely unusual for the two of us, it had been a while since we last cuddled. It was as if Mat had been careful to not get too close up until this point, his resolve now gone.

“You know, I really like knowing things and learning how stuff works, but sometimes I just wanna be a kid again who doesn’t have a clue. I remember how I used to think that every star was a little fairy like the ones in Tinkerbell or something, I don’t know. The world used to be so full of wonders and now it’s all science this psychology that, you get me?” I listened to him ramble, the alcohol making him stumble on his words a couple of times as he tried to figure out how to properly articulate himself. I’d listened to his drunk thoughts for years now, still amazed at his ability to get all philosophical out of apparently nowhere.

“Kinda yea, but I also think there’s still lots of wonders left, some of them having to do with science. Why do comatose patients wake up? What must it feel like as a surgeon to be able to give someone a new heart, a new life? How can we know so much and yet still be wrong so many times? So the way I see it there’s still wonders, you just got to know where to look”, I finished my rant, looking up only to see Mat intently staring down at me. This wasn’t our first drunk real talk, but the way I was wrapped in his arms somehow made it feel more personal.

“By the way, I think I got lucky because I wasn’t even looking and yet I still somehow ran into you”, I continued, needing him to understand his importance to me all of the sudden. He’d truly been my rock over the past few months, keeping me from going insane as I approached the final stretch of my senior year. He’d reminded me to take care of myself and practically forced me to whenever I didn’t.

I couldn’t even count the amount of times I’d crashed at his place because my roommate was having some kind of crazy rager in our apartment, effectively making it impossible to study. He’d even offered up his spare bedroom once he moved into his new apartment but I declined because I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent at this place and I wasn’t about to leech off of him when I had other options.

“You are my wonder too, you know. I couldn’t have wished for a more supportive friend.” I smiled up at him, drunk happiness mixed with genuine love for the guy that had slowly turned into the most important person in my life. We’d come quite far.

It didn’t take long until the both of us were yawning so frequently that it was impossible to keep up a conversation, quickly gathering everything so we could go back inside. I hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten until Mat’s arm dropped from my shoulder and my legs were exposed again from underneath the blanket.

“You wanna have a sleepover?”, Mat asked grinning at me cheekily while walking across the living room. Never one to say no to cuddling with Mat, even before all this quarantine horniness, I nodded before dashing off to my room to get ready.

Mat was already snuggled under the covers and he lifted up one side as soon as he saw me getting closer. He liked to be the big spoon and because that was one of the best feelings in the world I basically let him do whatever until he deemed our sleeping position comfortable. He’d definitely pulled me a little tighter than he usually did, our bodies now practically touching from head to toe.

He’d tangled up one of his legs with mine and my back was flush to his chest, his face nuzzled into the back of my neck. He had wrapped one arm around my waist so even if I wanted to leave or move, I wouldn’t be able to. It was like a big perfect Mat cocoon.

As I laid there listening to his breathing slowing down I thought back to what Mat had said on the paddle board a couple of days ago, about how he had everything he needed right here with him. I knew that that wasn’t exactly true because he missed his family and even if he denied it I knew he missed hockey as well, but he’d also admitted to needing me with him and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel the same.

-

A few rays of sunshine had lit up Mat’s bedroom the next morning, but that wasn’t what had woken me up. Mat was calling for me from the ensuite bathroom and I could faintly make out the sound of water running.

“I need you to bring me your shampoo, I’m all out”, he yelled and I groaned before slowly rolling out of bed. In daylight I could make out the mess his room had become, clothes littering the floor and every other surface and I almost stumbled over a set of weights on my way out of the door.

I grabbed my shampoo out of my shower and even reached for the conditioner for good measure. His hair had gotten so long by now that it would surely appreciate the extra attention.

Making my way into the bathroom I was faced with a problem that I hadn’t thought of up until this point. The lake house was pretty new, meaning the interior design was cozy yet still modern. Meaning all bathrooms were equipped with big glass showers. Meaning that there was currently no shower curtain preventing me from seeing Mat fully naked in the shower.

I could close my eyes but I would 100% trip over his clothes that he’d strewn all across the bathroom floor so my only option was to try and keep my eyes up high. Keyword being ‘try’. At least he had his back turned to me but I was still mesmerized by the water running down his body and the way his back muscles rippled as he reached up to push his hair out of his face. And that ass..

I slowly approached the shower, praying that he wouldn’t turn around to face me but also kind of hoping he would. I opened the door a little bit so I could set the bottles down inside and thankfully he stayed put.

“Don’t put the conditioner on your roots or your hair will look greasy”, I said on my way out and even I could hear how breathless I sounded, the view having my thoughts run a mile a second.

As soon as I had the bathroom door closed I squeezed my eyes shut to try and regain my composure. The image of him in that shower was one I wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a long time. I couldn’t even take a cold shower to cool down because Mat had my stuff and he’d know something was up if I were to simply rinse myself off and I couldn’t exactly tell him that the sight of him naked had gotten me all hot and bothered.

So instead I decided to use all of my pent up energy to go on a run, hoping for the runner’s high to clear my thoughts. By the time I got back Mat was laying in the corner of the couch, an episode of The Office on the big flatscreen.

“We need to go to the store later”, I reminded him, knowing that I couldn’t walk in on him naked again without losing the little control I had left in my body. He nodded and then looked me up and down and for a second I was embarrassed. Even with only wearing running shorts and a sports bra I was still drenched in sweat, probably looking disgusting.

At least he’d put my stuff back so I could finally shower in peace, my thoughts still wandering back to earlier this morning. I wouldn’t have turned him down before all of this shit started but now that I only had my own hands and trusted toy to take care of myself, I was borderline desperate. Two months without sex was the longest dry spell I’d had in years and I couldn’t imagine Mat feeling any different. I knew from firsthand experience that he brought lots of girls home as well. Perhaps he needed something to happen as much as I did.

It was hard to believe that his shampoo had just been empty all of a sudden without him noticing first and then there was the fact that for the past few days he’d been parading around the house in only his boxers or towels.

Two can play this game, I thought to myself, pulling on a comfy shirt and some tight booty shorts, foregoing a bra which he was bound to notice because of how it stretched over my chest.

I pretended not to notice how Mat almost choked on the sip of water he’d just taken as I made my way into the living room, walking over to the kitchen to grab my own bottle. Even if I couldn’t see it to confirm, I was pretty sure that he was staring at my ass as soon as I turned away from him. For good measure I even made sure to lie down with my head in his lap, murmuring something about how he’d taken up the best spot so he really left me no other choice.

The first few minutes he didn’t move an inch, resembling a statue. I knew that he could feel my boobs pressed against his thigh and I made sure to shift a couple of times to make sure before placing one of my hands on his thigh. Eventually he relaxed and even went as far as to rest one of his hands on top of my hand, slowly moving his fingers through the tangles in my still wet hair. When he accidently pulled at a few strands I let out a content sigh while simultaneously digging my nails into his thigh out of habit. I pretended to not hear him groan lightly and instead gave him the most insincere apology of my life, thoughts now definitely elsewhere.

I was royally screwed. Or actually I wasn’t, and that was becoming a big problem.

-

I’d made it my personal mission to get a reaction out of him as much as I could. Mat was the same, I hadn’t seen him wearing a shirt in days. It was like this competition to see who could make the other one snap first. Currently I was making breakfast in nothing but a shirt and my panties. Granted, the shirt went to my mid-thighs because I’d stolen it from Mat a couple of months ago but still.

One of my upbeat playlists was playing over the speaker system and I was dancing around in front of the stove, careful to not let the our breakfast burn.

“What a sight to wake up to”, I heard Mat’s voice behind me and his hoarse morning voice did things to me I would never admit out loud. I gave him a cheeky grin over my shoulder and wiggled my butt for good measure as my favorite part of the song came on.

“Can you set the table? Breakfast is almost ready”, I asked and he nodded before moving to grab everything. We’d gotten our morning routine down to a t by now and I couldn’t help the warmth that spread in my chest at seeing him do something so domestic. Our friendship had certainly evolved since practically moving in here together. It would actually be weird to not have him around constantly once all of this was over.

The day continued like most of the days before, us lounging on the couch after working out together for a while. It was something we’d made a habit a while ago. His trainer knew that I was with him so he’d give Mat tandem exercises from time to time or he’d ask me to take videos so he could make sure that Mat’s form was okay. I certainly didn’t mind the view.

Mat was always hot of course but there was something to be said about the way he looked after a workout, all flushed and just downright delicious. It was definitely a great motivation to join him in the gym.

This time I had managed to snatch the corner seat and I was sprawled out on the couch, Mat’s head resting on my stomach. While I’d managed to put on some shorts he was of course still shirtless and I’d given in to temptation long ago, my fingers now slowly running across his back. He had one of his arms thrown across my stomach, hand resting on my hip and drawing slow circles on the little patch of skin that had been exposed when my shirt had ridden up. While cuddling wasn’t unusual between the two of us, this was certainly new territory, the show we’d been watching kind of forgotten by now.

“Use your nails”, Mat pleaded and his voice was so raw that I would’ve done anything he asked of me at this point. He let out a groan when I softly raked my nails across his back and I was glad that he couldn’t see my face right now. There was a spot on the left side of his back that would cause him to shudder slightly, goosebumps spreading quickly. I found myself watching him in awe, fascinated by the reaction I could get out of him by such a simple act.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what kind of damage I could do if I really worked for it.

-

It finally happened a couple of nights later after yet another day filled with sexual tension so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

Mat helped me clean up after dinner, music playing to help speed things up. I was in charge of taking care of the leftovers while he cleaned up everything else. Obviously I was done before him and since he refused to let me help him I hopped on top of the kitchen counter, making casual conversation while watching him put stuff in the dishwasher.

“This is my jam!”, he exclaimed, quickly wiping his hands clean before motioning for me to come dance with him. I shook my head while laughing, which only led to him grabbing me and lifting me off the counter so I would join him.

His moves were ridiculous, arms kind of just flapping around. I knew that he could dance if he wanted to, we’d been to our fair share of clubs together but right now he definitely wasn’t trying. He held his hand out for me and with a laugh I accepted, letting him spin me around as he wished. The third time while he was spinning me back towards him he pulled a little to hard though and whether it was on accident or not I ended up almost smacking into him, only stopping myself by placing my other hand on his chest.

Both of us were a little out of breath by now and any laughter died down as he wrapped both of his arms around me, pulling me even closer. I looked up at him, gripping onto his shoulder with the other hand. Mat looked down at me with an unreadable expression. We both stared at each other for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what the other one was thinking at the moment. How had things gone from him twerking to Lizzo to this?

He gulped heavily before bringing one of his hands up to cup my face, ripping me out of my trance. His gaze was flickering between my lips and my eyes and he leaned in a little closer, yet still waiting for me to take the final step. Deciding to throw all caution to the wind I moved my hand to his neck, finally pulling him down to where I wanted him.

When our lips met it was as if everything was falling into place. The kiss started out slow, both of us still kind of figuring out what the hell was going on without scaring the other off. As soon as he realized that I wasn’t going to push him off of me he kissed me back with the determination that he showed in every other aspect of his life. His hands started wandering, first sliding down lower on my back before he moved them to my side, tightly gipping my hips.

I let out a light moan and he used the chance to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He tasted like home and I willingly let him walk me backwards until I could feel the kitchen counter behind me, grateful for the leverage it would give me. He surprised me by lifting me back up on it and then pushing himself between my legs, gripping my thighs.

Eventually I did have to come up for air but Mat apparently didn’t concur to the basic laws of biology because he moved straight to my neck, sucking and biting gently until I was sure that goosebumps covered every square inch of my body. I knew I should stop and think about what was going on right now but I really didn’t want to, so instead I just dove right back into another toe curling kiss. Kissing him had quickly become one of my favorite things and I wanted, no I needed more.

“Mat, wait…”, I murmured against his mouth and he immediately took a step back, looking up at me with an expectant look. I could tell that he thought he’d done something wrong, when in reality it was the exact opposite.

“I want you but I don’t know if the kitchen counter is the right place for that.”

As soon as my words registered with him he groaned, burying his face in my neck.

“Then let’s get you somewhere comfortable… for now”, he teased and the wink he gave me told me that we’d definitely continue this in here another time. I let him lift me down, following behind him as he pulled me towards his bedroom with an urgency that I had only seen in games so far. He was pretty laid-back usually but I could tell that I’d riled him up over the past few days or weeks really.

It seemed like Mat couldn’t hold out until he got me onto his bed though, instead pushing me against the door and leaning down to kiss me again, pushing one of his thighs in between my legs. He fumbled around for a while before finally hitting the right light switch, making the room glow in soft yellow lighting.

His lips were addicting and even when he moved back I didn’t let him, chasing after him for another kiss. Using one of his hands to brace himself the other was slowly pushing up the fabric of my shirt. That wasn’t enough for me so I quickly moved to pull it off. I wasn’t wearing a bra and he cursed as soon as he saw my exposed chest, taking his time to look me up and down.

“So beautiful”, he murmured in awe before moving in again, one of his hands cupping my breast. I let out a moan when he started playing with my nipple which only seemed to spur him on further. I was so turned on already and he hadn’t even done much yet.

Determined to change up the power dynamics I pushed at his chest and he took a step back with a confused look, probably wondering if he’d done something wrong. Confusion turned into amazement as he watched me kiss down his chest before finally sinking down to my knees in front of him.

I took my time kissing his abs and mouthing along the ‘V’ that disappeared into his pants. I could see him straining against his shorts, impressed by what I could make out through the fabric. When I licked along his waistline he let out a beautiful groan and I decided I’d had teased him enough, finally hooking my fingers into his shorts and pulling them down along with his boxers. Him being shirtless already certainly made it easier to get him naked.

I watched his dick spring free, bouncing against his abs and looking absolutely delicious. He was impressively long but it was the girth that truly wowed me, finally making me understand all of the girls that came back time after time.

I gripped his thigh with one hand and reached for his dick with the other, making him curse. When I gave the head a little kitten lick he threaded his hands into my hair, practically pushing me down on him so I’d give him more. I didn’t object, wrapping my mouth around him and taking as much of him as I could, my hand taking care of the rest. The filthy sounds he was letting out above me only making me more enthusiastic and I was pretty sure that he’d have little crescent marks on his thighs for the next few days from how I was digging my nails into his thigh. He didn’t seem to mind though, only moaning my name.

“Fuck, you look so good like that”, Mat murmured and I looked up to him watching me intently. I kept my gaze locked on his as I moved back to let him go, my hand continuing to stroke him but my mouth dropping down to suck at his balls. The moan he let out would have made any porn star jealous.

It didn’t take long for him to pull me off of him in a way that told me that he didn’t actually want to, both of us panting as if we’d just ran a marathon.

“You need to stop or I’m going to cum”, he let out, his hoarse voice turning me on so much that I was pretty sure I’d be dripping down my legs if it weren’t for the fact that I was still wearing some clothes.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”, I teased, grinning up at him, not being able to resist licking up the entire length of his shaft once more. He practically pulled me up to my feet after that, moving in for another searing kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for so long and there’s no way I’m gonna finish before we even started.” He started to push me back towards his bed, changing his mind halfway there as he bent down to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. For the first time I was able to feel him press against me, the thin fabric of my shorts not really doing much and holy shit did he feel good. He sat down on the edge of his bed, me now straddling his lap and I couldn’t help but roll my hips against him, desperate for any friction at this point.

The both of us let out a simultaneous moan at that and Mat buried his face in my neck, slowly sucking along my collarbone. He gripped my waist, his big hands nearly encircling it entirely.

“You’re wearing too many clothes still”, he said with his lips moving against my skin, making me shudder yet again. I’d long lost count a long time ago.

“Then do something about it”, I responded, not really willing to move at this point. He quickly stood up with me still perched on top of him before turning the both of us around, dropping me down onto the middle of the mattress. Him throwing me around like I weighed nothing really did something to me and I looked up at him through hooded eyes, waiting for him to make the next move.

He didn’t disappoint, leaning down to trail kisses from my neck, mouthing along my boobs before finally moving to pull my shorts and panties off. He took his time, making sure to appreciate every new inch of skin that he’d just exposed on the way back up and the closer he got to my core the more I was squirming underneath him. I had been waiting for this for so long that I wasn’t sure if I could make it through another minute without him inside me.

“Mat please, I really need you”, I whined and I could see him smirk up at me from where he’d situated himself between my legs.

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel so good baby.” Hearing him call me ‘baby’ only made things worse but he finally put me out of my misery when he ran one of his large beautiful fingers through my folds.

“Holy shit you’re so wet for me already”, he cursed and I was about to respond when he literally took my breath away by licking up my slit. I couldn’t help but arch off the bed, already so keyed up and he quickly threw one arm across me stomach, forcing me to stay still. He started out slow and I knew that he was only trying to egg me on further but his resolve didn’t last long and he soon dove in with a determination that had sounds coming out of my mouth that I’d never made before in my entire life.

He moved my legs to rest on his shoulders so he could have better access and because I really needed something to hold on to for dear life, I gripped his hair. He’d said a couple of times that it had gotten too long during this quarantine but I certainly wasn’t complaining now, using it as leverage. I could see him grind against the comforter, desperate for any kind of friction himself and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

He moved back a little and I was about to complain when he slowly pushed a finger inside of me, any words dying in my throat at the feeling. He lowered his mouth again, sucking hard on my clit and I moaned so loud that I was glad that we were alone in the house.

“More, Mat please”, I whispered and I almost couldn’t believe that he already had me begging. He groaned and the vibrations in combination of him pushing a second finger inside of me were almost too much. I was close and I knew that he could tell from the way my thighs were starting to shake, curling his fingers inside me until he finally found the spot that made me cum so hard with a scream that I could see stars. He brought me through it, still pushing in and out slowly when I finally returned back to earth, grinning up at me proudly after wiping his mouth on the inside of my thigh.

“That was so fucking hot”, he said and I laughed, throwing my arm over my eyes in embarrassment. I’d had my fair share of hookups as well but nobody had managed to make me feel this good. I could feel him move up my body, reaching for my arm so he could look me in the eyes again before leaning down for a kiss. I could taste myself on his lips and while kissing him was still amazing, it wasn’t enough anymore. Mat seemed to catch my drift because he rolled off of me, only to reach for his nightstand, feeling around for a bit before triumphantly holding up a foil packet.

Taking advantage of him on his back I moved to straddle his thighs, taking his cock in my hands once again. He bucked his hips involuntarily and I could tell that he needed this as much as I did at this point. I took the foil package from him, ripping it open with my teeth before rolling the condom down his shaft. He gripped my hips, helping me scoot up until I was positioned above him, holding him so I could slip the tip inside.

Both of us let out simultaneous groans when I finally sunk down on him, the stretch painful in the most delicious way. He gave me a couple of seconds to adjust but I wasn’t really willing to wait any longer, rolling my hips against him.

“Your pussy feels so good around me”, he panted as he helped guide me along with his hands while looking me deep in the eyes. His pupils were so blown at this point, his cheeks were flushed and he’d never looked better. I was a moaning mess above him and I wanted to remember the way his cock was dragging against my walls for the rest of my life. One of his hands still rested on my hip while his other grabbed my boob, twisting the nipple and making me moan even louder.

At one point he moved to sit up, our chests now pressed together. The new angle had my clit rub against his pelvic bone and I knew that I’d come again like this with no extra help needed. Mat moved to kiss my neck, sucking and biting so harshly that I was sure that there’d be marks there the next day, not that anybody besides us would be able to see them.

His groans had become more erratic as well and I knew that he probably wasn’t far behind me, my name constantly on his lips. One last drag against him had me arch into him with yet another earth-shattering orgasm, Mat doing his best to fuck me through it before turning us around so he was on top of me, using his hands to hold himself above me so he wouldn’t crush me.

He grabbed one of my legs and pushed it up to rest on his hip, thrusting into me with a force that had the headboard slam into the wall repeatedly. He felt so good that with every thrust I let out a little moan, still sensitive from my orgasm, which only seemed to spur Mat on even more. I was digging my nails into his back to the point where I was sure that there would be red streaks after but he didn’t seem to care at all, too lost in the moment. It didn’t take long before he threw his head back and I could feel him pulse inside me as he came, the most beautiful groan coming from his lips as he finally stilled inside me.

He crashed down on top of me, burying his face in my neck, both of us out of breath by now and covered in sweat. He was silent for a while until he caught me off guard when he started laughing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking.. we could’ve been doing that for weeks, I certainly wanted to.”

“I did too but I guess we’re both stupid.”

Now we were both laughing and Mat moved off of me so he could pull out, gripping the condom so it wouldn’t slip off. He threw it in the trash can in the corner before coming back, his hand outstretched for me to take.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, starting right now with me and you in the shower”, he said with a wink and I couldn’t think of a time where I’d gotten out of bed faster. 

[ssson-of-sparda]

A Trip To The Beach - Part 1 (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Dante's tab is nearly erased. After Patty finds a letter you wrote to Dante years ago, the girl decides to pay you a visit to know why and how things ended between you and Dante. (Part 4 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Fluff / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: I've decided to divide "A Trip To The Beach" into two parts because it was way too long. The next part will be the end of this story. Thank you for reading and sorry for keeping you waiting.

MISSION 4

Despite the menacing grey clouds fading the picturesque view before her, there was something adorably charming in the house Patty was looking at that should have made the girl feel rather at ease. And yet, she couldn’t move a muscle. Stress probably. Stress, yes. She thought as she glanced again and again at the letter she was firmly holding in her hands.       She repeated the address out loud, checking again for the umpteenth times if she was at the right place and wondering if she should be here.    What if Dante learnt about her being here? What if he learnt about her sneaking into his personal stuff? About her stealing this letter in the drawer of his desk? The one Y/N had written him years ago. The questions popped up in her head one by one as quickly as Dante’s devastating bullets and tied her stomach in a knot. She had never been afraid of Dante. Not really. And she wasn’t sure she was afraid of him right now. Maybe she was simply afraid of hurting him.

“This was a silly idea.” She sighed and finally turned around to leave. Maybe if she hurried up she would be able to catch the next train back to Red Grave before the storm and be home early enough to make Dante a strawberry sundae.

The wind suddenly blew hard, so hard it was gusty enough for the pink ribbon in her blond hair to be blown away. Patty gasped and quickly ran after the long piece of silk trying to catch it back. But it somehow landed right in the flowered garden she hadn’t dared step foot in and Patty couldn’t help but see it as a sign of fate. “Can I help you?” A sign of fate she couldn’t ignore now.

Y/N was as pretty as Patty had imagined, maybe even more. And as she kept on observing her, her little turned-up nose purposely plunged in the tea mug so that she would not have to speak (a premiere in her life), she wondered how and why Dante had let her go (She had jumped to this conclusion when she had read the letter she found at Dante’s in which Y/N was asking him to come back to her). “ Would you like another biscuit, Patty?” The blond girl shook her head nervously. “Or a strawberry sundae maybe?” Patty froze and her blue eyes fixed at Y/N in panic. “If you’re friend with Dante I assume you must have them quite often.” There was no bitterness in her voice, just a motherly sweetness tinted with a bit of sadness.             “ How?”                “ The letter.” She nodded at the envelope sticking out of Patty’s pocket. “How’s Dante?”     “ He doesn’t know I am here!” Patty confessed rapidly as if to exonerate Dante of her presence here. “And he doesn’t know about the letter.”    “That’s alright. Relax.” Y/N smiled, amused, as she put her mug on the coffee table. “I was just asking. Curiosity.” And care also.                   “ Oh … Then I guess he’s … Dante.” The young girl finally said after searching for the perfect word to describe her friend.  “You know eating pizza and strawberry sundae everyday … and sleeping all day long.” Y/N frowned. That was not the image she had kept from her ex-boyfriend at all. A lazy pizza and sundae lover sure but there was something off in Patty’s description. “Oh and losing at gambling which probably led to why I’m here.”            “ What do you mean?” Y/N raised an eyebrow; genuinely curious though amused to know Dante had not improved his gambling skills since the last time they met.       “ Let’s say he owed me so much he started selling pieces of his past to pay me back.” The woman laughed. That sounded like Dante for sure. “He started telling me about you because I asked him why he loved strawberry sundaes so much. And then he kept extorting me and used my curiosity at his advantage.” “ How much did he owe you?” “ Six strawberry sundaes. A dozen ice-cream cones. Two dresses and one trip to the beach. He stills owes me a trip to the beach though.”              “ Of course he does.” Y/N scoffed as she took a sip of her tea.                 “ Fortunately I’m a very patient woman.” Patty declared as she started drooling over her homemade raspberry-filled biscuit.       “ Well, I guess you have to be when you hang out with somehow like him.” Patty’s eyes darted back at Y/N who was now stirring her tea even though she hadn’t put any sugar or milk in it. A defence mechanism, Patty thought.         “ Is that why you two broke up? Because you lost patience?” Patty dared ask even though a part of her had a feeling she shouldn’t.             “ No. No. That’s not because of that.” Y/N admitted. “We broke up because Dante couldn’t help being Dante.”        “ I always tell him his uncouthness drives women away.” Y/N had a sad smile that Patty immediately noticed. “Sure he lacks manners but that’s not why we ended things. We ended things because … I guessed he cared too much for me.”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 1

She could remember that day as if it was yesterday, every detail of it. From the moment Dante kissed her good morning to the moment he kissed her goodbye. She could remember his smile, warm and beguiling. She could remember his tears, cold and desperate. She could remember everything about him, everything about her.

She was wearing a red summer dress. Dante’s favourite. He used to say it was because of the colour. “You know how much I love red, baby.” But she knew it was because of the way it hugged her figure so beautifully. He could pretend to be a gentleman but he couldn’t fool her. She could tell he was lying just by the way his hands would grab her curves each time she was near him in that dress.

They had parked the car by the beach. An old red convertible he claimed to be vintage when it was just a piece of junk. If he thought any sort of romance would happen in it, he was clearly wrong.

Don’t tell he already had this awful car! Don’t tell me he still has it!

But Y/N wasn’t sure Dante was in the mood for romance or any sort of distraction. He looked preoccupied, very preoccupied, and she knew him all to well to know that this anxiety – or whatever Dante was feeling right now – was nothing good. After all, one could use many adjectives to describe Dante but anxious and preoccupied, no. He was too carefree and devil-may-care for this.

“Something’s wrong.” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her head on his shoulder. Dante sighed. “Nothing.” “That was not a question.” She clarified and watched him leave her embrace to pick a beer in the cool bag they had especially prepared for their picnic at the beach. “Talk to me.” But he didn’t. “It’s better if you know nothing.” She frowned, not enchanted at all to be left in ignorance.                  “Better for whom? Me?” He remained silent again and she felt anger starting to grow in her chest. “Answer me, for god’s sake! It’s been days, Tony! Days since you’ve been acting strangely. Days since Enzo came to visit to tell you god knows what.” Dante’s eyes met hers and he could finally see how furious and sad she truly was. “What? Do you really think I can’t put two and two together? Do you think I’m that stupid?”          “No.”     “Then what’s going on?” Dante opened his mouth but was quickly interrupted by a strange noise coming from Y/N’s purse. It was her pager furiously vibrating and ringing.

Pager? Welcome to the nineties, Patty.

“It’s my parents. -Emergency at the restaurant. Need your help-.” She read and sighed. “I got to go. But this conversation is not over, Tony.”             “ I know and I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just … just give me time to make sure …” But he didn’t finish his sentence. And why would he? The last thing he wanted was for her to worry and telling her ‘Just give me time to make sure you’re going to be okay.’ didn’t sound very reassuring, right? “Make sure of what?”  “ I love you, Y/N. You know that?” He cupped her soft cheek and caressed her delicate skin with his thumb. She nodded. Of course she knew. He didn’t have to say it. But she hated secrets and right now he was too secretive to her taste. Nevertheless, she indulged his desire for a loving kiss when Dante’s lips came to claim hers. “I love you too.”  “ You’re staying at my place tonight?” She nodded. She could never deny him, especially when he was so sweet.

So that’s why you broke up? Because he had secrets? No. Not because he had secrets. Because of something more complicated than that.

The second the bus dropped her off at the stop a few meters away from her parent’s diner, Y/N knew something was wrong. The reddish pink neon sign of the restaurant was not shining like a beacon in the street and inside the lights were all off. Weird for a Friday night.            She walked to the door anyway, holding on tightly to her purse, a worried frown creasing her young face that soon became as pale as milk when she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She should have called the police or even her boyfriend. Surely that would have been the wise decision but when she heard a loud noise coming from the inside, she instinctively rushed in.

It had come from upstairs, from where her parents lived. Y/N climbed the stairs one by one, quickly but cautiously, with a lamp she had picked on a table in her hand to use as a weapon though she wasn’t sure that would be enough to knock out whoever had broken into the place. She could hear her heart beat loudly in her chest, ready to explode, Thump Thump, and her foot creaking the wooden floor more and more with each steps despite all her attempts at remaining silent. Creak Creak. Creak Creak. Splish Splash.

Y/N suddenly stopped and looked at her feet. Her sandals were wet. Water? But the bathroom was too far away and the liquid felt weirdly warm and way too dense. She squatted down and slowly touched the flooded floor with her fingertips. She shivered at the sensation. This felt weird, slightly sticky even. Oil? No. It wasn’t slimy enough to be oil. It was something else.                 She looked closely, searching for a source of light. Fortunately she didn’t need much to realise that the liquid tinting her skin was dark and … red?

Her eyes widened when she understood she was squatting in a pool of blood. Horrified she tried to get up and run but eventually slipped and squealed when she fell on her butt and the red splashed and drenched her dress and her naked legs.

Her half-eaten biscuit in her hand, her mouth agape, Patty was staring at Y/N, unable to move or to look away. This story was fascinating … scary but fascinating. And Y/N had better storyteller qualities than Dante. He always had the tendency to exaggerate.           “What happened next?” Patty demanded with an over-excitement she knew was certainly inappropriate. “Next …” The doorbell rang loudly and Patty jumped and squealed. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened when the bell rang again, this time almost furiously. “I guess we have an impatient visitor.”         Needless to say, Patty exactly knew who that was. “Oh no.”  “Don’t worry. I’m sure a nice strawberry sundae will calm him down.” Y/N smiled and got up to welcome the person impatiently waiting under the porch.

[undyingskies]

Heartbreak Girl

This is my first ever imagine, I am used to writing fan fictions so I apologize if it’s long or drags on. I have to get used to getting everything into one imagine! Also yes, this is inspired by the 5sos song heartbreak girl! Thanks for reading & I hope you enjoy, I am also happy to take requests! xoxo 

Warnings: There are a few cuss words but other than that there’s nothing! _____________________________________________________________

“Thanks for being a friend, O.”

You said as you end the phone call with your best friend, Owen. As usual, here you are, tear stained cheeks, calling your best friend like a broken record. Yet again, Jason stomped all over your heart and left it broken for what feels like the hundredth time in a row.

You had met Jason at the coffee shop you work at; he had come into the shop every day for almost two weeks. Each day he would order the same drink and do homework; at times, you would catch him staring at you; every time you made eye contact, he would give you the most heartwarming smile. On the last day in, he asked for your number, and the rest was history.

You were busy splashing cold water on your face trying to get the swelling to go down. I mean, you had been crying for the last 5 hours. A swift knock on your front door startled you. Once you make it to the door, you stand on your tippy-toes to look through your peephole; you’re met with messy blonde hair that could only belong to one boy who would never hurt your heart like this.

“O, I didn’t know you were coming over. You didn’t tell me that you were going to or were even thinking of.” You say as your best friend wraps his arms around your waist.

“I know Y/N, but you know I’m a sucker for you. I couldn’t have my best friend home alone, crying over some asshole. I wish you would forget the day you met him Y/N.” Owen said while taking you by the hand and dragging you into your living room. Owen quickly shoves you onto the couch, with a roll of your eyes, and begins to pull things out of the backpack you hadn’t seem to notice on his back.

“I have  your favorites! She’s the Man, candy, chips, chocolate cake, oh and some more candy.”

Owen quickly throws the candy and chips at you on the couch and runs to put the movie in your DVD player. He comes back to the couch, plopping right next to you, throwing his arm around you. Without a second thought, you snuggled into your best friend’s chest, not knowing that his heartbeat picked up a notch.

Owen’s POV

I can still see what’s left of tear stains on Y/N’s cheek; I just really wish she would forget Jason.

Every time I get the same call from Y/N, that he broke up with her again for someone else. That’ll she’ll never get over him, getting over her. Every time she comes running back to me like I am some cure to her heartbreak, and I am until he comes back, and she runs back into her arms, leaving me in the friend zone yet again.

Not that being in the friend zone is terrible; I would rather be her friend than nothing at all. Y/N’s been there through everything with me when we were little, when I went through my first heartbreak, when I got my gig on Knight Squad, then when Knight Squad got canceled, and I cried for more days than I would like to admit. She’s the one that pushed me to audition for Julie and The Phantoms, convinced me not to give up, and that I was good enough. She’s done all this for me, and I still can’t seem to convince her that herself. That she is good enough.

Her smile lights up any room she’s in, her eyes will tell you every single emotion she’s feeling even when she doesn’t want to tell you herself, her laugh is music to literally anyone’s ears, and nothing compares to her humor and kindness.

“Why do you think this happened again O?”

Her soft voice breaks me out of my thoughts; I didn’t even realize she had begun crying again.

“Because he’s an asshole Y/N, you’re too good for him. You always have been and always will be.” I say, trying to remain calm. The sad, broken look in her eyes tears my heart apart. It also makes me want to drive to his house and run his mailbox over with my car.

“O, I am not. I don’t know why you always say that. Jason was so good to me for so long, and no boy has ever even looked at me the way he did. Plus, he was way out of my league; no boy ever wanted me before him. I was always just the girl who hung by your side O, girls didn’t like me because they wanted you, and boys didn’t even look twice at me or just viewed me as a bro. I’m never going to find someone like him again. No one is ever going to like me again, O.”

With every word, she started crying harder and harder. I know she believes those words too. Every word I hear, I can feel the anger swelling up in my chest. It is so hard hearing not only the person you love but also your best friend be so hard on herself.

“Y/N, come on. You know none of that is true. You’re beautiful, and you will find someone else; you just need to forget about Jas-“

“No, O, I won’t. You and I both know that it’s not true. He’s it; I’ll just be alone now that it’s really over with him.”

“Jesus Y/N, why can’t you see it. You’re beautiful, so many boys look at you constantly. They drooled over you in high school; they still do today.”

“O, please just stop. Just stop. I don’t want to hear your lies; I know as my best friend you’re trying to make me feel better, but just stop. I just won’t be with anyone.”

At this moment, I don’t want to be mad. But her words, her words are just setting everything in me on fire. She says these things every time this happens, every time that asshole steps all over her heart, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I bite my tongue, but I want to scream out every time this happens. You could be with me now, but I always tell you what you want to hear! But you’re never ready, and it’s so frustrating! He treats you so bad, and I’m so good to you, it’s not fair. You should be with me!”

Y/N’s POV

Shocked. Shocked is the only word you could even begin to describe how you’re feeling right now.  Never in a million years did you think you would hear those words coming out of Owen’s mouth. Yet here you are, hearing him saying well, yelling these words at you as he’s standing in front of you just staring down at you.

It’s not like you never thought about it; it’s actually all you ever used to think about; you and Owen. You would agonize over your feelings for him. In high school, you would go home crying, seeing all the girls fawning over him. Every other girl getting his attention but you. You were just his friend, his sidekick. At some point, you accepted this, and that being his friend was worth it because at least he would still be in your life. Then you met Jason, sure you even thought about it from time to time because deep down, that feeling would never go away.

“Y/N, hello? I kind of just admitted something important, and you have nothing to say?”

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t even realize you had just left Owen hanging. He’s just standing in front of you, arms by his side, looking well nervous almost.

“O, I, I don’t think you mean what you’re saying.”

“Y/N, I know what I am saying! I’ve wanted to say it for years now. I have loved you since we were 15! You’re just too blind to see it; you always have been!”

“I want to believe you, O. I just..”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Owen yells, and before I can even understand what is going on, I feel his lips slam against mine. Fireworks. My lips slowly melt into his; I can hear his sigh of relief when he feels me reciprocating the kiss back to him. His bottom lip slips between my lips to deepen the kiss. Truly, nothing has ever felt so perfect. We slowly pull apart; he leans his head on mine. Forehead to forehead. I see that perfect smile make its way across his face.

“Believe me now? It’s always been you and I, Y/N. I have always loved you.”

I can’t help but smile at those words, words that I didn’t know how bad I truly wanted to hear, no, needed to hear. He’s right; it’s always been him and I, Owen and Y/N.

“I know O, you and I. You’ve always been there, and I have always loved you too.”

“I told you I’m right here; I’m glad you finally realized it.”

He says before he places his lips back onto mine.

We spend the rest of the night talking, cuddling, and watching the movie. More than anything we spend the night giving each other kisses and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. I don’t know what we quite are yet, but I know that he’s my cure.

[spasmsofthought]

milk + instagram live (t.h.)

I traveled to London (and Oxford), England in March of 2019 for my spring break my sophomore year of university, so some things mentioned here are entirely from personal experience, so please don’t hate me if you’ve experienced something different! I stayed at a hotel in between West Kensington and West Brompton (a few blocks away from West Brompton Station) and one day some family members and I decided to attend a local showing at a cinema nearby and it was SO. DIFFERENT. than the theaters I had been to in the States. IDK, maybe it was just me. The entire experience was like culture shock again in the few days I had been there, so I had to bring that up in this little piece. Also the thing about milk is something I have genuinely wondered about, cause I’ve heard it’s different in England than it is in the USA, but I may be wrong. Let me know! Anyways, I have big love for London (and supreme love for Oxford, sorry) and I’m looking forward to going back someday soon! 

The reader is non-celebrity and American, so I’m sorry if that feels exclusionary to any of you, honestly! I thought this might be just a little fun jaunt because I don’t really write real person fiction. Just a bit of fluff. 

Sorry for this long intro. Enjoy and let me know what you think! xo  

Word Count: ~1.5k 

+ + + 

It’s some sort of exclusive interview for a magazine or something of the sort, you’ve been told; a collection of questions they want you to answer to publish somewhere, to print as something special for one of Tom’s things. That’s all you know. It’s just something you agreed to do after his publicist had asked a few weeks ago. It wasn’t like you did this for a living, so there was an attitude of nonchalance about it all because if they ended up not liking it one bit, they could scrap it all and no harm, no foul. 

“Now,” the interviewer begins, a man in his 40′s with balding hair and a slightly crooked nose, sitting in the chair across from you, “I know you just announced that you got married, so congratulations, firstly--” 

“Oh, thank you,” hands folded on your lap, smiling sweetly. You know people want their well-wishes to be heard and recorded, but sometimes it’s easy to imagine a completely private life, fame free, in which this isn’t the biggest news in the world (or just the biggest news for a day in the entertainment industry in the United States and England); a life where this is just a normal thing that normal people decide on, there’s a celebration, and that’s really it. It’s not splashed on newspapers and trending on Twitter, even though that can be a fun thing. 

“I’ve been really happy these last few months since we got married and was excited to tell all of Tom’s Instagram followers,” there’s a break for a small laugh from you, “There’s been such an abundance of well wishes from everyone and I’ve felt so incredibly lucky because I know not every woman who has been in my position has recieved such a reception.” 

The interviewer gives a move of his head in recognition of your words, but his eyes are already flying down the paper he holds in front of him, “There have been quite a few changes that have happened, I’ve been informed, and the first is that you decided to move to London!” 

“Ha, yes,” you begin, nodding, “Not only did I just completely intertwine my life with another person’s, but I moved to an entirely new country. There’s definitely a lot of culture shock that has happened these past few months.” 

The interviewer kind of chortles along with you, but the awkwardness has already settled in and you can feel it because you are the literal worst at small talk. And that’s all this interview is. 

“Any cons you’ve listed already about residing here amongst us?” 

“Oh no,” you groan dramatically, trying to lighten up the mood, a hand coming to cover your eyes for a moment, “you have to promise not to tell my husband, because I do have a few things actually.” 

“I make no promises, as this interview will be completely up for grabs,” The man holds up his hands and you’re a little disappointed that he doesn’t seem to want to play along with the joke. 

You brush it off, though, because he’s either nervous or he’s here for a few questions to be answered and then he wants to be out of here. You get it; you have a job, too, that sometimes squeezes the patience out of you. 

“Well for one, the local cinemas are just set up so different than the ones I went to all the time in the States. I still have to prepare myself for the experience every time,” there’s a little bit of an awkward pause. 

“We have different cinemas?” He asks, like he’s suspecting something more; something deeper. Maybe he wants something more scandalous? You nod along, though, smiling softly at his confusion. It has always felt funny trying to explain this. 

“And I miss people smiling at me in public, on the tube or in the more crowded public spaces where I don’t really know anyone. People are literally so lovely when they invite me into their homes to eat with them and stuff like that, but I’ve only got one reaction from someone for smiling at them. Most of them just stare for a second or ignore me entirely! I don’t know, maybe it’s just me.” 

He shrugs, not quite sure what to say to that, because he’s not at fault for it. It seems most people know what you’re talking about when you say this and you’ve garnered that it’s a cultural thing for the most part. You don’t fault anyone for it. 

“Also,” your hand comes to scratch at a place above your left eyebrow, “I know this is weird, and I don’t even know if it’s entirely true, but I haven’t drank milk in the months since I’ve moved here because I heard in America that milk is made differently here or something like that. I haven’t been able to gather up the courage to find out if it’s true or not, and I mostly drink water or juice or whatever else so my husband hasn’t bat an eye yet. I just don’t want to ruin my previous experience with milk,” You shrug your shoulders and laugh. Your hands come unclasped and you hold them out in a surrender-like gesture. 

Your final answer seems to startle the interviewer, because his laugh is surprised and maybe a bit shocked and leaves just as quickly as it came. The rest of the short conversation, lasting only a few more minutes, continues smoothly. After sitting around in the office for a little while longer, you are free from the place and from (hopefully) ever having to do this again without Tom. Your schedule is blissfully empty for the rest of the day, a Saturday, so you eventually make your way home. 

- - 

“What’s this I hear about your fear of English milk?” The door opens first and then the voice follows. 

Of course, that would be the first thing he says to you after a whole day of not seeing each other. 

“Good evening, darling, how was your day?” You quip from the couch, what’s left of your cup of tea gone cold on the coffee table parallel to it. “Oh my day was fine, Tom. I’m glad you’re the one who does the regular rounds with the press, not me, because I was so awkward today. How was yours?” 

You hear his keys clink against something, probably the kitchen counter, and then the rustle of a bag. It takes a second but then you see his hands grip to top of the sofa as he leans down towards you. There’s a quick kiss that comes before he rights himself. The marital bliss has not faded away yet given that adoring look in his eyes. It is the same look he gave you standing right across from you the day of your wedding, the same one you saw four months ago on your honeymoon, and the one he gave you last night while getting ready for bed as he brushed his teeth. 

“I got something from the shop on my way home,” He wiggles his eyebrows and you know some part of you saw this coming from a mile away. 

You know now that the shop means the grocery store because a few months ago you had asked him what the term meant (“it’s so vague, though,” “darling, I’m not going to waste my breath calling it the ‘grocery store.’”). (There are still many British terms you have yet to learn.) You allow yourself to sit up and then turn around to meet him as your knees come to dig into the cushions. Now you both are almost at the same height. 

“God, I hate you,” You chuckle, leaning towards him. 

“The ring on your finger says otherwise, love,” You roll your eyes but then press an elongated kiss to his lips. There’s a few moments where he gets some in down your neck and behind your ear before he pulls away. 

“C’mon,” He says, pulling your arms and almost vaulting you over the couch and onto the cold, hard floor, “to the kitchen we go! You need to drink some milk.” It takes a few more minutes for you both to actually get there, but then he grabs the carton from the bag and a glass from a kitchen cupboard. 

He pours a little at the bottom of the glass, not even filling it up a quarter of the way. Part of you wants to shudder, part of you is feeling adventurous enough to be excited. But then he pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans and asks if he can go live on Instagram. For a moment you consider saying no, simply because you’re not sure if you want to open yourself up to the world of Tom’s Instagram followers watching you try your first taste of non-American milk, but then you decide “why not?” It can’t do any real harm, right? 

Tom hands the glass to you and you place it on the counter in front of you as you sit down at a stool. You can see the moment on his face the live video starts and a second later he quickly explains the situation. 

It does not take you much longer to become a viral internet meme.  

[classysassy9791]

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor/Fluff Pairing: InuKag Rating: T

The conclusion for this little fic that has waited 6 years for completion. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Thank you to @akitokihojo for being such a stellar beta for this fic, and helping it come to its completion. Couldn't have done it without you!

For @inukag-week Day 6: Transformation.

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l

Part 4 Word Count: 2,000

Can also be found on FFN and AO3

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It had been a very long time since Kagome had experienced a hangover.

The buzzing in her brain soon became too much to ignore as it beckoned her to consciousness. She opened her eyes to the dimly lit room. Sunlight peeking from beneath the closed curtains indicated it was daytime and she silently thanked herself for being smart enough to close them before leaving her apartment the evening before.

Kagome wrapped the duvet around herself and tried to grasp a hold on the fleeting darkness of unconsciousness. She knew nothing would cure a hangover except time, and she would rather spend it floating through dreamless sleep than deal with the repercussions head-on. Waves of nausea added to her misery and she could faintly smell whiskey with each exhale - a scent that was intoxicating last night, yet this morning it only caused her stomach to twist further.

Her phone pinged with a message, but she didn't dare even try to reach for it, the annoyingly bright glare of her phone not exactly something she wanted to sabotage herself with. As the minutes passed by, she became more acutely aware of her brain feeling like it would swell beyond the capacity of her skull, and her dehydration became too obvious to ignore. Her tongue felt like cotton as she licked her dry, cracked lips. Damn, why did the morning after always have to remind her of what a bad decision the night before was?

She squinted and finally set her gaze on her nightstand. A surprising wave of relief washed over her. Drunk Kagome must have had an intelligent moment, for on her nightstand stood a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water. As quickly as she dared, she propped herself up on one elbow, trying to ignore the slight spin of the room, before greedily popping two pills and finishing the water. Even so, her thirst was far from quenched.

As Kagome tried to sort through her memories of the night before, she quickly registered that she had no memory of coming home last night. The last, clear recollection she could come up with had her sitting at the bar with Inuyasha and sharing a shot with the bartender.

"Shit," she groaned, hanging her head before precariously pulling her legs from beneath her blanket. Blacking out from drinking had been a favorite past time of hers back in her early college days. It wasn't because she didn't know her own limits when it came to being intoxicated, but back then, she simply didn't care. Drinking had been her favorite vice when it came to dealing with the pressures of school, boyfriends, and girl drama. It had been years since she had felt the need to get obliterated so completely.

Finally finding her courage, Kagome reached over and unlocked her phone. The red battery sign at the top meant it was almost dead, so she quickly scrolled through all the alerts on her phone. There had been way too many messages and missed calls from Hojo, which triggered the memory of the picture she had sent him. Her nausea increased ten-fold. Regret was a spiteful bitch.

Hojo was going to be the afternoon's problem. Maybe even tomorrow's problem. All Kagome knew was that it wasn't going to be a now problem.

Kagome plugged in her phone and once she was on her feet, the room swayed, almost causing her to lose balance. She stumbled out into the hallway to her bathroom to relieve herself. When she finished, she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face just to feel something refreshing. The person's face who greeted her in the mirror no longer resembled the glamorous girl of the night. Only a woman's face awash with guilt, a wrinkled set of pajamas, and hair that was far from attractive.

From the other end of the apartment, Kagome suddenly heard a key turning in her front door. Immediately, she felt panic rise in her throat, eyes going wide. No one had a key to her apartment, not even Hojo, so unless she had been robbed last night - which she very may well have considering she had very little memory of it - no one should be coming over.

She swallowed thickly against her cotton throat and grabbed the first weapon at her fingertips - a plunger. Yeah, she wasn't winning any awards for being clever, but she was hungover and scared for her life.

Kagome crept down the hallway toward the front door and nearly lost her breath at who she saw standing in her entryway. The man from the bar last night - Inuyasha? - was making his way to her kitchen with a carrier filled with coffee and a bag from her favorite breakfast joint down the block.

"Good morning," he greeted casually, not at all thrown off by her presence as he set down his packages on the counter. "I brought you breakfast."

Rage and astonishment swelled in her chest. "What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!"

He winced and held his hands over his ears before turning to glare at her. "If you could wait until after eight in the morning to start yelling, I'd really appreciate it."

"You didn't answer my question," she seethed, wide eyes sweeping the rest of the apartment for evidence as to what exactly happened last night?!

Inuyasha studied her from across the room and laughed at her dumbfounded expression. "Did you think I was a burglar or something? What's with the plunger?"

Kagome looked down at the plunger she held in his direction like a sword, and felt a blush bloom across her cheeks. She hurriedly hid it behind her back. "W-What was I supposed to think?"

He simply rolled his eyes. "Do you want breakfast or not?"

She bit her lip, but couldn't deny the ravenous hunger eating away at her stomach. Probably half the reason why she was so nauseous. Without saying another word, she slipped back into the bathroom to put away her weapon before meeting him in the kitchen. The sweet aroma of coffee and fresh bagels greeted her. She could've kissed him all over again.

"I didn't know how you liked your coffee, so I got cream and sugar just in case."

Kagome slowly sat down in the chair across from him, watching him slather some cream cheese on his bagel and drink his black coffee. She racked her brain as to exactly why Inuyasha was in her apartment, and then flashes of the night before came rushing back, of sloppy passionate kisses and tangled sheets.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Inuyasha studied the array of emotions that flickered across her face while he slowly chewed his bite of bagel and then swallowed. "Kagome, how much do you remember of last night?"

She bit her lip, shameful eyes lifting to his. "Um, well…" Her gaze fell to her person, realizing she was no longer wearing the sequined black dress she had gone out in. All the evidence pointed to a girl she wanted no relation to, making decisions that were very, very regrettable.

"We didn't sleep together."

Kagome's eyes flew to Inuyasha's, his deep voice quelling her fears. "We-We didn't?"

Amber eyes watched her carefully before turning back to his bagel. "No, we didn't. I'm not the kinda guy who beds a girl when she's drunk. Not my style."

A breath Kagome didn't know she had been holding escaped her lips. She had never been the type of girl to have one-night-stands. Her friends always teased her about it, but it was something she prided herself in. Having sex with someone wasn't something she did on a whim. She wanted to know she meant more to someone than an easy lay.

Her brows furrowed as she sipped on her coffee. "If we didn't sleep together, then why are you here?" she questioned. It would've been one thing if she had woken up with a naked man in her bed and kicked him out because of sheer embarrassment. It was another thing entirely that a man she didn't sleep with would bring her breakfast in the morning.

Inuyasha shrugged. "I was too tired to get another ride home last night, so I slept on your couch."

Kagome glanced over the breakfast bar to see a blanket and pillow on her couch as evidence that it had been occupied the night before.

"You know, you probably shouldn't drink so much."

She threw him a glare. "Did I ask for your judgement?"

He shrugged. "I'm just sayin'. Letting a stranger take you home because you're too drunk isn't exactly attractive."

Kagome scoffed. "Oh, thanks for the help," she snipped sarcastically. "What would I've done without you?"

Inuyasha grinned. "Probably throw a party to celebrate my absence."

"Probably, yeah," she hotly agreed. "I would've been just fine on my own."

"Maybe."

She frowned, flashes of last night starting to come back. They had been two heartbroken strangers in a bar who found comfort in their shared misery. Under the neon flashing lights and upbeat techno music, they gravitated toward one another like moths to a flame. But by morning they had transformed; she no longer represented the alluring woman who bewitched him, and he no longer appeared as the mysterious man who captivated her.

Now, she was simply Kagome Higurashi - a woman who was dumped by her fiance and had a mile-long to-do list regarding cleaning up their frayed relationship. And he was simply Inuyasha.

Kagome inwardly cringed. She didn't even know his last name. Or what he did for work. Or anything about him really.

Just fucking great.

"Look, Inuyasha," she began, setting down her coffee. "I appreciate everything you, er, did for me, but-"

"When we're done here, we should go on a real date."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

Inuyasha shrugged. "Why not?"

"You have got to be joking," Kagome said while shaking her head. "One-night stands are literally just for one night, and we definitely would not work out."

He grinned. "Damn. That's a quick deduction there."

Kagome blushed. "I just mean that, last night… it was great and all, but…"

"It's daytime and the whole world's changed?" Inuyasha finished for her.

She sighed and looked away. He was right. Things were different. Last night didn't happen often for her, and bringing home a guy to her apartment never happened. If it were up to her, she'd stuff last night in a box as a precious memory and then forget it ever happened.

"I'm not saying I'm over Kikyou."

Kagome met his gaze. His eyes locked onto her, and held not an ounce of mirth. He was serious about this. He wanted to see if this could become something.

"And I doubt you're over your ex-fiance," he continued. "But, last night was fun. You're different and piss me off to no end-"

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

He sighed and after a moment finally stood up. "Look. You seem like a great girl. But I'm not one to beg. Thanks for the couch." Slipping his phone into his back pocket, he turned to leave.

"Inuyasha, wait!" Kagome called as she chased after him.

Dammit. This guy was so infuriating! He insulted her, and called her names, and angered her enough to make her slap him upside the head. But he also made her laugh, and feel alive, and made her want to kiss him again and again.

She couldn't deny that she wanted to see him again.

Grabbing his elbow, she made him stop in his tracks and look over his shoulder at her. "What?"

"This…" she started, fumbling for the right words. "This is never going to work. You and I."

He gave her a lopsided smile. "I'll pick you up at six."

And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Within a moment of him leaving, Kagome realized something: Meeting Inuyasha was either going to be the best luck she ever had, or the very worst. At least, on the bright side, he had already witnessed her at her lowest.

How bad could it be?

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Nine - I’ll Keep Him Safe From The Dark Things That Wait

AO3 and Trigger Warnings in reblogs.

“Goodmorning Fwip!” Jimmy says, landing on the path outside of the Grimland city. Fwip smiles at Jimmy, his red goggles over his eyes. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great, Jimmy.” Fwip says, smiling. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Jimmy replies, taking off his elytra. “So, trade deals?”

“Right.” Fwip laughs. “I forgot that’s why you’re here. I’ll be honest, I thought I would be giving you a tour of Grimlands.”

“I’d love a tour.” Jimmy smiles under his mask. Fwip lights up at that, smiling wider, less sheepish than only a few moments ago. “We can always discuss trade deals afterwards.”

“Speaking of which,” Fwip opens the gates for Jimmy, inviting him into his empire. “Did you have any ideas of what you would like?”

“Honestly, my advisors told me to go for an equal amount of gunpowder.” Jimmy responds, ducking through the gates. “But we can iron this out later.”

Jimmy whistles as he straightens up. The Grimlands are magnificent. People rush around the city, bumping into people and walking faster than Jimmy thought people would have any reason to. The city is filled with life, storefronts lit up with people looking around inside. Children in neat uniforms dash down the streets with their friends.

The city is lively, but there’s no street vendors. No people busking in the morning light, no one selling fresh fruit and freshly cooked pies on the intersections. People race down the streets, but no one stops. No one talks to each other, save for teenagers hurrying not to miss their first classes. The city is full of life, but does that life disappear with the end of the morning rush?

“You gonna move, or are you just going to stay there and gawk?” Fwip asks, leaning against a light post.

“It’s so busy.” Jimmy says, moving to avoid bumping into a woman in a suit. 

“Oh, don’t worry. It practically empties in fifteen minutes.” Fwip smiles, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. He hasn’t removed his goggles yet, even though its not that sunny. “After we get something to eat, the streets will be ours.”

“I ate before I came.” Jimmy says quietly, trying to avoid taking his cod head off around Fwip. 

“Aw, that sucks.” Fwip pouts. “I booked us in to eat at my favourite cafe.”

“I suppose I could get something small.” Jimmy winces, trying not to offend the other ruler. “As long as I don’t have to remove my mask!”

“Don’t worry, you won’t lose your head.” Fwip laughs, leading Jimmy though the city. The houses tower over the pedestrians, the streets narrowing and winding until Jimmy’s head is spinning.

“Can we slow down, Fwip?” Jimmy asks, trying to keep up with his guide.

“If we slow down the crowd will separate us, just try to keep up!” Fwip grabs Jimmy’s hand, pulling him along down the street. The streets blur together, sharp corners and large courtyards and narrow streets and large crossroads make Jimmy’s head spin. Will his empire become like this, after he’s dead?

He wouldn’t be able to recognise it.

Fwip pulls him through the open door of a small, homely cafe. A tabby cat stretches in the sun yawning as a young woman sweeps the floor with an old wooden broom. There’s plants stretching over every inch of spare space, including the ceiling beams and the edges of paintings that litter the walls. An elderly woman sings to herself as she washes some plates, soapy water barely remaining in the tub. A young man, his hair tied into a neat bun, smiles at the two emperors with a smile that screams home. Like Jimmy’s come home, even though he’s never been in this shop before. It’s…

It’s nice.

“Welcome to The Rockrose and the Thistle cafe, how can I help you?” The man asks, a kind smile on his face.

“Hey Iorro, could I have my regular?”

“Of course, Lord Flynn.” The man smiles, wider than before, and Jimmy can feel his heart begin to race. “And for you, honoured guest?”

“A hot chocolate and something small?” Jimmy asks, and Fwip gives him a nod, almost thankful.

“Could I have a name to go with that?” 

“You can refer to me as Jacob, but you can’t have my name.” Jimmy says smoothly, and Iorro laughs, tilting his head back.

“You’re observant, it took Lexi hitting me to stop me from taking our lovely king’s name.” Iorro says, and the young woman stops her sweeping.

“Iorro, if you touch these men’s food, I swear-” She laughs. “It’s a pleasure to have you both, I hope you enjoy your meals. I’ll handle the cooking. Iorro, swap with me.”

The fae man - who’s tall, taller than Jimmy thought he was, towering over Jimmy - takes the broom off of Lexi before he starts to sweep. 

Fwip leads Jimmy into a side room, one that forgoes the plants for window seats and a small block of deepslate redstone. Jimmy takes the seat closest to the window, watching as the people outside of the cafe mill about, laughing inaudibly and racing to the next place. The crowds slowly dissipate as he watches, and Fwip laughs.

“Not many cafes in the Cod Empire?” Fwip asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“None like this.” Jimmy admits. “This place is something else.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good.” Jimmy says, as the door creaks open. “Definately good.”

“Coffee with three shots of espresso?” The elderly woman asks.

“Thats mine.” Fwip says, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Are you trying to give yourself a heart attack?” Jimmy asks incredulously.

“Don’t try to talk him out of it, boy.” The woman says. “He’s been ordering this for years. At this point it’s the only thing keeping him awake. I assume you have the hot chocolate?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Jimmy says, and the lady laughs.

“What would be more lovely is if you talk this man out of drinking that every morning.” The lady deposits their drinks in front of them, steam swirling out of the cups. “Have a good day, emperors.”

The woman walks out of the room, and Jimmy looks down at his drink. A small cod is made in the foam art that floats on the top of the drink, and Jimmy coos. Lexi drops off two sandwiches to the table, which Fwip takes with a smile.

“Jimmy, they gave me your marshmallows.” Fwip says, holding out two towards Jimmy. “You want them.”

“I’m not five, Fwip.” Jimmy says. “Of course I want the marshmallows.” Fwip drops them into Jimmy’s drink, and Jimmy laughs as Fwip hisses at the splash from the hot milk.

“Don’t laugh at me, that hurt.”

“What did you expect?” Jimmy says, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “Wow, this is really sweet.”

“They must like you.” Fwip says. “Cause my coffee’s burnt.”

“That sucks.” Jimmy offers, downing the rest of his drink. The sweetness is strange - the marshmallows must have had extra sweetener, normal hot chocolates aren’t this saccharine.

“You ready to leave now?” Fwip asks, standing up.

“Sure.” Jimmy stumbles a bit as he stands, btu he lets Fwip lead him out of the cafe.

They walk through the empty city for a while, the silence overwhelming. Jimmy wants to say something, to break the awkward silence that threatens their every step, but he can’t. He knows the words he wants to say, but they get lodged in his throat and twist around his tongue, like a vine is creeping up and strangling him.

Fwip leads him into an alleyway, one too small to be of any use besides a shortcut, but the only place it leads to is the wall. Jimmy sways a bit, turning to face Fwip. This isn’t where they’re supposed to be.

Blink.

Fwip smiles.

Blink.

Sausage laughs in the distance.

Blink.

Jimmy’s swaying. He can’t stand up for much longer.

Blink.

Fwip takes off his goggles.

Blink.

Jimmy’s on the floor now.

Blink.

Fwip’s eyes are as red as Joey or Sausage's eyes.

Blink.

Blink..

Blink…

---

Jimmy’s head rests on some cold stone. It’s nice, really. He feels so hot, like there’s fire under his skin, burning at his lungs. But it’s also too cold, he’s shivering. Where is he? He was just with Fwip, what happened, did he faint? A breeze passes his face, and his eye slowly opens.

Where is his mask?

Why won’t his other eye open?

“Good morning Jimmy.” Fwip says, leaning against the wall. “Took you long enough to wake up.”

“Where…” Jimmy tries to sit up, finding himself unable to.

At least Dogwarts didn’t get him. I can’t lose him.

“What?” Jimmy mumbles out loud. What is dogwarts?

“Don’t worry, Timmy.” Sausage says, pushing Jimmy’s head back onto the altar. “None of this will hurt, we just need your help.”

“What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sausage kneels down in front of Jimmy, looking into the Codfather’s eyes. “You’re going to meet a friend of ours.”

“He’s already met me before.” A deep, warped voice says, and Jimmy’s heart leaps into his throat. No. Not here. Not now. “He’s much more expressive without the head.”

Jimmy flings himself backwards, putting as much space between him and the demon as possible. Sausage and Fwip laugh, pushing Jimmy towards the altar. Jimmy tries to struggle, but the world spins and-

And there’s blood on the floor. It’s dry, dark brown, but it’s his. His arm hurts. Why didn’t his arm hurt before? Why didn’t he notice he was bleeding? Why did Fwip hurt him?

“So he’s come out of shock.” Xornoth laughs. “Thank you both for collecting him, we truly can hit my brother hard, having something of his.”

“Jimmy isn’t Aeor’s champion?” Sausage asks, and Jimmy blinks.

The gods have never loved him, why would Sausage think one of the elfs would?

“No, he’s the champion's soulmate.” Xornoth laughs, walking up to the trio. “He’s important, not important enough to matter, but important enough to kill.”

“Too scared to kill me yourself?” Jimmy snarks, shaking. He’s not scared, really he isn’t.

He’s been here too many times, in his nightmares, for this to have any effect on him. He’s shaking because he’s cold, not because he’s scared. It’s too hot, but he’s still cold. The blood oozes out of him - will his arm go septic, if he escapes? How will he escape, why was he paying attention to Xornoth he should have focused on escaping.

“Too busy,” Xornoth says. “To bother myself with pest control.”

“Should we sacrifice him?” Sausage asks, and Jimmy stills as he feels the sharp blade of an axe gently tap his neck.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame,” Jimmy closes his eyes, trying to fight back tears as his fate is sealed. “If such a lovely altar wasn’t used.”

SolidarityGaming was sacrificed on the altar by MythicalSausage

[ayellowcurtain]

A Sobbe or Elu prompt based on the song "Best Part" by Daniel Caesar?

the fake-dating sort of thing

Robbe wakes up with the brightness around him, a warmth overheating his back. He moves away and finds the end of the bed, touching the softest sheets he’s ever felt. He stretches his legs all the way down and blinks a few times. All the comfort and serenity is forgotten the second he recognizes he’s not in his bedroom, nor Jens’. He sits on the bed and looks over his shoulder. The second he sees him, flashes start twinkling before his eyes.

Sander’s smile, saying against his lips for them to go slow while Robbe tried to push him inside the bedroom, annoyed with the loud music of the party downstairs, quick but unsure hands trying to get rid of all the clothes, Jens getting inside the room and Robbe kicking him out, Sander asking a million times if he was sure, short breaths, panting, very wet fingers, Sander’s taste, Robbe feeling way too hot in his skin. Robbe closes his eyes to stop thinking, pulling the sheets pooling in between his legs to cover his face.

He definitely shouldn’t have jumped Sander like he’s sure he did, but he can’t just put his clothes on and run like a teenager. That part was successfully completed last night. Robbe can’t believe he finally made a move.

It doesn’t feel too much of a surprise as it probably should that they actually had sex. They were faking it for a long time before that. Robbe just never thought it would actually happen. Sander was the cool guy in their group of friends and Robbe was tired of the constant interrogation about his love life - or lack of one - and without really discussing it with him first, Sander wrapped his arm around Robbe’s shoulders one day.

“We were trying to keep it to ourselves for a little while.” He said as Jens and Moyo almost fell to the ground when they understood what that small gesture meant.

Robbe was speechless, feeling like he was moving in slow motion as he stared at the guy he had the tiniest crush on telling their friends they were dating when they weren’t. But Robbe didn’t have the courage to fix it right away and then he never did.

They walked to grab a coffee after school that day and Sander was still smiling, thinking his idea was so fun and not at all problematic.

“They’ll see that we’re not actually dating, Sander! They’ll see that we’re just like first-grade dating, holding hands, never kissing or making out.”

Robbe realized the door he had opened when Sander looked at him, lifting his eyebrows.

“That’s an easy fix.”

Robbe rushes to get inside the coffee place first, keeping the door open for Sander, trying to think of a way to change the subject while waiting in line to make their orders.

“Unless you have any issues with kissing me just for fun.” He said it so easily, with no extra weight in any word and Robbe wished he could be that careless about everything in life. He honestly envied that in people. While Sander was so chill about it, Robbe couldn’t stop wondering if with fun he implied that it could never be more than that or if kissing Robbe was actually fun.

So that’s how this started: as a joke to keep the boys away from annoying Robbe every day with questions. Since he came out, they were more anxious than him for his first kiss, his first time with a boy…

Robbe can’t believe he drank more than enough to give himself the courage to do what he wanted for once. If he thinks about it, he remembers most of it now that he’s awake, it feels like it’s still happening.

He feels his skin raw and sensitive whenever he pictures Sander touching him, he knows how he tastes, remembers the struggle it was because apparently drunk Robbe is also needy with nervous hands that can’t stay still for long. He remembers Sander laughing about it, kissing him and asking one more time if Robbe was sure. He remembers nodding his head with such certainty it made him dizzy.

He stops thinking about it again because the dizziness makes him nauseous. The bottom of his feet feel weird when pressed against the carpeted floor, it tickles a little but Robbe pushes himself to stand up, feeling his legs shake for a little until able to hold his weight. It feels like all his organs are adjusting too after so much anxiety and beers shared the same space in his stomach for long hours while lying down. His heart is beating so strongly inside his chest, but Robbe moves carefully to the bathroom, needing to splash cold water on his face to see if it helps.

He puts some water in the back of his neck too, grabbing the first towel he touches to dry himself, looking in the big mirror in front of him.

Of course he’s happy, he doesn’t remember being this happy before, but he’s so scared of what today might bring. Of what Sander might say or what he might not, which would probably break Robbe’s heart just as much. Deep down, he was having fun pretending to be dating Sander and he doesn’t want whatever he did, how desperate he was, to make this awkward.

“Hi…”

Robbe jolts, dropping the towel on the sink.

“Shit, you scared me…” His mouth goes dry and he gives all his attention to grabbing the towel back, putting it in place, “Hi.”

“Everything okay?” Sander walks carefully around him and sits on the counter, already with his boxers back on, still with the bed hair and Robbe tries to quietly scan what he can see of Sander’s body, thankfully not finding any marks.

Robbe nods his head, finally gathering the courage to meet Sander’s curious and kind eyes, smiling a little when Robbe looks back at him.

“Yeah. And you?”

“I’m good. About last night…” He talks slow like he’s just trying to help Robbe start the conversation they both know Robbe wants to have.

“I’m sorry. For jumping on you like that.”

Sander smiles wider, lowering his head to try and force Robbe to keep looking in his eyes, “You’re acting like I didn’t want it too.”

“I didn’t give you many ways out.” Robbe explains, adjusting his underwear around his waist.

“You did. I just didn’t want a way out.” The silence grows heavier in between them, and Sander sighs with not much patience, “We weren’t that drunk, Robbe. I promise. You’re freaking out, thinking that I had sex with you out of pity or something when that’s not the case at all.”

Robbe nods his head, dragging his short nails through his palms, so embarrassed for his thoughts. He bites his cheek, thinks about it, but finally looks at Sander through his lashes, not sure what to do with his hands.

“Was it good?”

Sander leans against the wall behind him and Robbe notices the muscles in his stomach contracting with the new position, “Yeah, of course it was. You kept asking if I was sure.”

“Really? Sorry…”

“No, it was cute. I’m sure I annoyed you too, asking if you were sure.” Sander smiles again, blushing just a little bit but Robbe notices it and finds some comfort that this is just as awkward for both of them.

Sander jumps back up and stands close to Robbe, making him lean against the counter, thinking about pulling Sander closer for a real kiss when they’re both completely sober.

“I think now Jens believes us at least.”

Robbe closes his eyes as shut as possible, trying to completely erase the idea that Jens saw him - on Sander’s lap, shirtless, unzipping Sander’s jeans - out of his mind.

“So he really saw us, it wasn’t my imagination.”

They both look at each other and laugh a second later thinking about how weird their first encounter with Jens will be and Sander nods his head, snorting.

“Yeah, he saw us, but it was like a second. You complained and got up and tried to push him out and I sort of followed, since I had a feeling you would forget to lock the door again.”

Sander tilts his head, pressing his lips together not to laugh and Robbe sighs, wanting to hide, thinking Sander must see written on his forehead how inexperienced he is.

They stay in silence for a while and Robbe tries to think of them, comfortably sleeping together after everything, how warm and inviting and comforting Sander’s skin is. There’s a few inches between them now but he can feel Sander’s warmth still and Robbe falls a little bit more in love.

“It was perfect, Robbe. I thought you were always going to keep us at this stupid fake-dating thing. I was ecstatic that you finally pulled me aside and dragged me to the closest bedroom.”

Robbe moves back and forward a little until he manages to lean against Sander, putting his forehead against his chest, finally finding the comfort he always wanted when Sander wraps his arms around him, holding him tight, kissing the top of his head, letting Robbe stay there without moving for as much as he needs.

[whump-town]

If The Lord Don’t Forgive Me

Bi!Hotch returns

I brought Charlie around for round two because sometimes you just need sweet, wholesome gay love. And it’s sweet baby (okay sweet like sour gummy worms but it is sweet and, hey, I cut the whump out just to keep it that way so you’re welcome)

There is cussing, the slight implication to sex (but not graphic and far more like “men sometimes have sex”), homophobia (I know, I know why can’t I let them live in peace?? but I have to get something out of this too and I LOVE angst), child abuse (ugh... :( sorry Hotch but if you’re showing that pretty face in a fic, I’m gonna bring up the fact that your dad hit you...), and probably something else but I doubt it’s that bad

Anyways-- cut to the gay shit but let me hit it off with some “Work Song” by Hozier because... I’m the author and I can do what I want 

My baby never fret none About what my hands and my body done If the Lord don't forgive me I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

Despite it only being eight o’clock in the morning, Aaron Hotchner feels today has aged him immensely.

The morning started with Emily knocking over an entire bookshelf. The decision to move her into his apartment was stupid and on a whim but he’s never truly felt the consequences of that until today. Which is good considering she’s been living there for nearly three years (straight from “dead” in London to living in his house)  but that is not where the focus should be placed. No, it should be placed on the fact that the crash caused him to jump. A normal, knee jerk reaction but not good when in the middle of shaving.

So, he’d come running out of the bathroom-- face stinging because he’s just jerked a razor across it-- to find the living room in shambles. Emily standing on the other side of the room looking to the point of tears but only managing the barest morsel of containment and Jack, school clothes covered in milk from his cereal, lower lip trembling, and little fist clenched for some semblance of control over the tears pouring down his face.

Standing there, the three of them each taking each other in, had felt surreal. Bit by bit, they all came together. Emily wiped her nose and rubbed the tear that fell off her face. She went to get him a band-aid and he went to Jack. That setback was only a step in the wrong direction.

Truthfully, that old bookshelf needed replacement about twenty-years ago when he built it. Its bitter fall was only a matter of time and he has yet to mourn it. The mess of the shelf was easy to clean up. He’d need to take the larger pieces to a dump or ask Morgan if he knows what to do with it. The books just got stacked on the floor and the wood splinters swept up and Jack advised to stay away from there until he or Emily could really go at it a little better and make sure there was nothing left.

The hard things came afterward.

Fighting with Jack to wear other clothes. He’d picked his current milk-soaked clothes out and Jack is reliant on a schedule. Changing clothes is a deviation and no matter how patient Hotch had tried to be, he was finding it hard to keep his cool. So he’d caved rather than lose his temper over something as simple as a second grader’s clothes. So, Jack went to school today in green overalls and blue rain boots that are a little too big. He’d looked silly but he’s seven so it’s technically still cute for him to do.

As for the nice cut he’d dug into his jaw, Emily had come to inform him that the only band-aids in the house are scooby doo. So, he has wood splinters in his living room, blood all over his shirt, Jack in poorly matching clothes, and a fucking scooby doo Band-Aid on his face.

Coffee is the only thing he knows can fix this.

“Uhm--” Leave it for today to also be the day he is confronted head-on with the very repressed sexual attraction he feels for men. “Can I--” his palms are embarrassingly damp. “Can I just get a-- a large black coffee?” The muscle in his forearm flexes and he can’t really force his fingers to grasp his wallet.

The man in question raises his eyebrow but takes the order. “Alrighty,” he answers. “Do you want creamer? Sugar?”

Hotch can feel his throat tightening in and his face heating up. Thank God he’s never been the type to flush visibly or else he’d be in some trouble. He forces his eyes on to the nametag pinned to the apron over the other man’s chest. Charlie, it reads. Hotch glances back up. “Yes-- Yes, please.” If he were a blusher, he’d be beet red.

Charlie smirks at the stammered manners. It’s cute. “You got a name, suit?”

“Ho--Hotch.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow at that but he’s not going to comment. It’s unprofessional and Hotch is more than likely a nickname. He lets it go. “Hotch” comes in enough that Charlie gets used to the strange nickname but to the staff of his shop he refers to the cute stuttering agent as “suit” and it’s easy to understand why.

“A-- A date?”

Charlie is gay but he’s not sure what “suit”/”Hotch” is. He’s thinking at least a little curious because getting the poor man into a stuttering puddle of anxiety and stammering is as simple as deviating from their typical “cream and sugar” discourse.

Charlie smirks, he thinks the stammering is cute. “Suit” is such a composed guy that it is cute. “Well, yeah. Unless the terminology has changed, yeah, suit, a date.”

Hotch’s throat feels impossibly tight. He’s aware of Charlie, very aware of him and his jaw and how hard the pads of his hands are and-- “I’m--” I’m not gay “Ugh, wh-when?”

Oh. Well, he wasn’t expecting it to be that easy. “Hmm, good question. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Charlie sucks his lip into his mouth, thinking. He snaps his fingers with a sudden idea. He bites the Sharpie’s lid off (the one he uses to write names on the cups) and hurriedly scribbles something on a napkin. “Here’s my number. Text me and we can work that out.”

That was… months ago.

Things have been steady. Good.

Pulling in a deep breath, Aaron Hotchner plunges his head under the luke-warm water of his bathtub. Goosebumps have broken out across his skin but the cold kills the ache in his overworked muscles. Besides, he’s entirely too distracted by two things: (1) he’s too fucking big to fit comfortably in this bathtub. Knees bent, his thighs are out of the water making this bath entirely useless. (2) The very unnervingly attractive coffee shop barista who’s shop he goes to, all the time. Who just so happens to be on his way over right now, for dinner.

“Wow.”

Startled by the sound, Hotch jerks and gets a mouthful of water and suds. Coughing and pulling at his burning nose, Hotch scowls at the intruder. None other than Emily Prentiss standing at the side of the tub, one hand on her hip, and the other extending a towel to him. “Emily!”

She raises an eyebrow of indifference as if he’s the one acting oddly. “You can hold your breath for an impressive amount of time,” she says. She moves the towel in front of him, trying to get him to take it from her. He won’t move his hands from where he’s placed them over his groin.

“Emily, get out!”

“Why are you making this a big deal?” she groans, rolling her eyes. “Hotch I have seen you naked!.” She puts the towel near the edge, where he can reach it without it falling into the water or to the floor. She makes a show of planting her hand over her eyes and turning her back. “Such a baby,” she mumbles. “What is the big deal?”

He ignores her.

She hears the water moving with him as he stands, large splashes as he disturbs the surface. “You’re welcome by the way,” she mumbles. She’d thrown the towel in the dryer so it would be warm for when he got out. Contrary to his dramatics, she does love him. He’s her friend and in the same ways that he takes care of her, she makes sure someone takes care of him. “Besides,” she says, turning around despite his disapproving huff of a sigh. “I came to tell you Charlie is here.”

Hotch freezes. Ah… that’s why she’d come in. That deer in the headlights look that she doesn’t see nearly enough of. It’s silly, if not endearing, that Hotch gets so nervous for these dates. Charlie is pretty clearly head over heels for him and it’s a little surprising. Charlie all bright and cheery, a hard extravert. Perfect, always early to their dates, Charlie.

“He’s early,” Hotch stammers.

Emily nods. The date is at seven-thirty and it’s not quite six. “He knows,” she informs him, settling her hips back against the sink. She’s not watching him throw on his boxers but she’s just… standing there, talking as he drops the towel and makes quick work of drying himself off and pulling his legs into pants. “He also knows you’re in the bath so don’t go breaking your neck. I don’t want to tell your seven-foot-tall, beefcake of a boyfriend that you’ve managed to kill yourself in here.”

Hotch huffs, rolling his eyes. It would be just his luck that he breaks his neck in here while buck ass naked, with Charlie in the living room no doubt. Though, that is a bit of a ridiculous thought to care about.  Here Emily is standing, casually watching him pull jeans over his boxers, having already seen him in his full glory. Charlie, even, has seen all of what he has to offer. He’s spent the majority of his life in the company of Jessica. She’s seen him in hospital gowns, bare assed which is strangely humiliating (and there’s the bonus of the repressed memories of Jessica catching him and Haley multiple times).

They’ve all seen him naked but that’s still not something he wants to deal with.

“You really do look strange in jeans,” Emily informs him as he’s shrugging on his shirt. Charlie had warned him against his more traditional polo. Evidently, he’d look like a “stiff” if he chose to wear a polo to the park. He shoots her a glare but it’s true. No matter how many times she sees him in regular clothes… she just can’t get used to it.

Charlie isn’t mean to him when he wears jeans though.

“There you are,” Charlie greets when Hotch steps out of the bathroom. The strange, beautiful thing about Charlie is that he doesn’t really care that Hotch’s life is crazy. He’d been unsettled by the grisly things that seem to occur so brutally to Hotch but he was quick, startlingly so, to remind Hotch that none of what Charlie had just been told sounded like it was Hotch’s fault. Despite Hotch’s swayed narration.

He’d thought it might be a bit strange to have Emily living in his apartment but Charlie also knew about the details leading up to that decision. The loss of Haley putting a strain on Jack’s independence and pattern of life. Being a single parent and a federal agent pulling Hotch every which way. Haley’s father, Roy, falling ill and commanding more of Jessica’s attention. Then, the fateful fall out with Ian Doyle, Emily moving to London, and the internal bleeding that had almost killed Hotch.

The last of which had been the end all be all. Emily came home and she found herself drawn back here by the less than stellar track record of her family. The abrupt decision landed her here, with Hotch, and it’s been beneficial for everyone involved.

Charlie feels a little safer knowing that when he has to go back to his own apartment, Hotch has his own apartment full of Jack and Emily waiting up for him. Even though he’s only been with Hotch a short while, he’s becoming more and more aware of the trouble that seems to follow his partner.

“Your hair is still wet!” Charlie kisses Hotch, fingers slipping easily through the soaked hair at the back of his head. “I won’t take you out in the cold until you’ve dried it. The last thing I need is you getting sick on me.”

Jack nods seriously hearing this. He’s seated beside Charlie on the couch, the two having been discussing superhero comics. It was turning into an argument when Hotch had come out (who would win between Batman and Ironman-- Charlie says Ironman and Jack Batman). “You can’t get sick,” Jack informs him firmly. “You promised you’d make pancakes for breakfast Saturday.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “All I’m good for to you people is my cooking skills.”

Charlie sucks in a breath, making a I don’t know about that, sort of face. “Just your pancakes, Aaron.” Charlie pats Hotch’s thigh the opposite of tender just downright taunting. “I love you but you can not cook or bake. You literally burn everything.”

The chorus of grunted seconding of that statement behind him feels like a betrayal but he really is bad at cooking. And math. And remembering general the most basic things. So, true but hey! “I’m going to go dry my hair,” Hotch announces, shaking his head. Sure, laugh it up now. They all need him. It’s funny now… brats.

“Get some gloves! There’s a wind chill!”

Emily huffs a laugh and Hotch turns around to catch it. He smirks at the sight of his living room, melancholy swelling in his throat. His family genuinely looks like his lesbian best friend, his ex-wife’s older sister, his son, and his 6’5 ex-college football player turned coffee shop owner boyfriend. It’s a little crazy and yet… comforting because at eighteen when he’d packed up his meager belongings to go to college, he didn’t think he was capable of having any of this.

As Charlie pulls him out the door-- hair dry-- Jack’s actively talking to them both. Something pointless but childish and so, by reason, very important. Emily’s reaching into his jacket and stuffing a pair of gloves into his pocket, throwing a scarf at his head. Jessica’s calling after them too and as soon as the door shuts Hotch pulls in a deep breath.

“They’re smothering,” Charlie informs him as they step off the porch. He offers his hand out to Hotch, scowling down at the icy steps.

Hotch hums in agreeance taking Charlie’s hand out of necessity for touch not help. “You’ll get used to it.” The implication of his statement comes to hit him centerfold but Charlie seems unaffected and Hotch is reminded that not even ten minutes Charlie had said that he loved him. “I love you but you can not cook or bake. You literally burn everything.”

I love you. I love you. I love you.

“Aaron? Did you hear me?”

Hotch blinks stupidly, looking up, and shaking his head. “No,” he mumbles regretfully.

Charlie shrugs it off. “I asked if you were hungry, yet.” Though a year is not altogether that much time, especially when compared to their ages, Charlie would like to think he has an understanding of Aaron. He does know that for certain, actually. He squeezes Aaron’s hand within his own and smiles over at him. He’s got layers, Aaron, and you have to pay a price to understand each and every one.

Somehow, that enchants Charlie. He loves it. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give up to have another layer.

“No need to pretend to be,” Charlie explains as they separate to get into his car. “You either or you aren’t. I just wondered if you wanted dinner now or after the walk.” Charlie wants his opinion. He desperately wants to understand what is going on in Aaron’s head. The thoughts he has when he gets silent like this, his restless fingers digging and rubbing.

Hotch hums, reflexively drawing his arms to his chest after he buckles himself into the car. He fidgets anxiously as he tries to figure out the correct answer. What it is that Charlie wants to hear. Charlie likes to eat early, that’s something he’s noticed. However, if Charlie’s asking him then maybe he doesn’t want to eat early. Would Charlie be hungrier after a walk? If they eat now it’ll be cold outside by the time they can get to the park. Then Charlie’s going to be mad at him because it’ll be his fault for having chosen to eat early and go to the park late. Maybe then Charlie will finally realize how stupid this whole relationship is, that he can do better, someone who isn’t like him, and--

“Hey.” Charlie doesn’t reach out and touch him. That’s a lesson he’s learned over the last few months. Hotch doesn’t mind physical touch but he’s easily unnerved by it when he doesn’t know it’s coming. Considering how lost in thought he just was, there is no way he would have seen it coming. “We can just go after, okay?”

Hotch immediately calms, “okay.” His shoulders fall from where he’d slowly, stiffly brought them up. He nods his head, looking down to his lap, while Charlie drives. He has to calm down.

He looks over, catching Charlie’s smooth movement. His arm is on the center console, palm up in a common gesture waiting for Aaron to take his hand. He blinks for a moment, mind slowly turning over exactly what this is. Glancing at Charlie, Hotch slowly lifts his hand up and shyly slots his fingers between his. Smiling when Charlie doesn’t even react much more than a pleased grin.

Oh, he thinks calmly. He likes holding Charlie’s hand. He likes Charlie. The way that he just fills the silence without ever expecting Hotch to return the vigor. Simply requiring Hotch remain engaged with the occasional hum of understanding or scowl of confusion. And Hotch loves that so much more-- that he never has to find the words to explain that he doesn’t understand. Charlie just knows.

“You can’t.”

Charlie frowns, turning to glance at Hotch. “What do you mean?” That’s where the compensation occurs-- Charlie is awful at remembering things. He forgets his dry cleaning, appointments that he set up, holidays, birthdays, weekend plans-- everything. Hotch seems to forget nothing.

Hotch looks out the window of the passenger side, feeling the cold seeping in from the door, but docile and contently closes his eyes to narrow his attention to Charlie’s thumb rubbing lazy patterns on the back of his hand. “On the twenty-third you have interviews for waiters. Your morning, at the very least, is packed.”

Charlies frowns, well shit. “You know,” he says, giving Hotch’s hand a little squeeze. “If you just came to work with me, I wouldn’t have to have those interviews. It would fix so many of both of our problems.”

Hotch turns his head, smirking at Charlie. Not true. It would fix some of their issues-- how much time Hotch’s job steals from them, Charlie’s need for more staff. However, Charlie just wants him working there because Charlie thinks Hotch would look hot in the apron (actually, he knows Hotch is hot in the apron).

They arrive at the park and the two get out. Charlie immediately regrets coming out in this weather.

The grass crunches under Hotch’s feet but he enjoys the way the snow muffles so much of the noise around them. Leaving nothing but the few courageous birds watching them from their perches. It’s a safety Hotch finds entirely enrapturing. Enough to not mind the cold at all and how Charlie’s been fussing with his own clothes since they set off.

Hotch is just walking along. His hands are cold but not enough to ache and with Charlie’s covering the majority of his right hand, he can slip the left into his pocket. It’s not until Charlie squeezes his hand to get his attention that they stop, that Hotch pulls his attention to his partner and away from the scenery.

Charlie pulls him by the lapels of his dark jacket, turning him so that they’re standing facing one another. The toes of their shoes bumping together. “Come here,” Charlie instructs, words a cloud of condensation around them. He wastes no time in pulling the hat off of his own head to pull it down over Hotch’s. Smiling when it smushes his overgrown bangs against his forehead. “I don’t want you getting an ear infection out here. Gotta keep you healthy.”

Hotch shyly grins, looking down at the ground, “I’ll be okay.” He still turns his cheek into Charlie’s palm, letting him wrap that hand around the back of his neck, turning his chin up to kiss him. His lips are cold and the tip of his nose feels frozen. “It’s not that cold.”

Charlie shrugs and Hotch doesn’t pull the hat off.

“You outta be disgusted by yourselves.”

Hotch flinches, recoiling from Charlie and bowing his head rather than to look up and see who it is shouting at them. But Charlie is not new to this little game and he straightens his back and raises a questioning brow. “Oh? Should we?” He glares down at the woman on the track, it’s clear she’d been running before she decided to come nosing her way into their business. “I’d appreciate it if you left us alone, ma’am. We aren’t hurting anyone.”

She scoffs.

Charlie stands still, unwavering. They’re big men. Hotch may be a force to be reckoned with but Charlie is not, by any means, small. They’re the same height and the woman in question is a petite blonde. They’re intimidating. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head disgusted but stalks off. Whispering under her breath about hell and how their time will come.

“What a hag,” Charlie grumbles, rolling his eyes and reaching down between them to take Hotch’s hand. He steps to move on but he feels the resistance in Aaron. His hand now loosely holding on to Charlie, fingers lightly hooked together. “Aaron--”

Hotch forces himself to take a steadying breath-- drop his shoulders, unclench his jaw, inhale slowly. His eyes peel up off of the ground and he knows he hasn’t moved fast enough. Creases of worry have broken up Charlie’s handsome face, tension that doesn’t belong there. “I--”

Charlie shakes his head, discouraging Hotch’s lame excuse. “What she said…” Charlie can’t tell Hotch that what she said shouldn’t affect him. That he should brush it off and not worry about what a small minded bitch has to say about them but that’s not fair. None of this ever really is. Not when it comes to Aaron. “She doesn’t matter, Aaron. You. You matter to me, okay?”

Hotch furrows his brows, letting out an aggravated puff of air as he fails to work through the shame burning his chest.

Charlie looks around them, tapping his fingers as he contemplates what he should do. “Do you--” How, in all of Virginia did he manage to get the one DILF, Unit Chief with the inability to make a decision or admit what he needs? He means it fondly, of course, but sometimes he’d like to lovingly shake some sense into this man.

Taking a calming moment, Charlie knows that his ability to play out this next scene is vital to his afternoon. If Aaron detects even a fraction of impatience, anger, or frustration he’ll shut down and then Charlie is going to have to spend days if not weeks working Aaron back to where he is now.

“It’s cold out here,” he states calmly. Aaron glances at him, sniffling and rubbing at his wind burned nose. “I’m hungry, I-- I forgot my lunch at home this morning.” Even though Aaron bought him a bright, hunter’s orange lunch box that sits painfully on his kitchen counter so that he has to see it. “What do you say we turn back for the car and surprise Jack with an early return? Order pizza? Watch some Scooby Doo?”

Aaron sniffles again, glancing at Charlie and then to the path they’re clearly meant to be headed on. “But…” he clears his throat. He can’t stand being like this. The anxious partner. The fucked up partner. He was with Haley. Now he is with Charlie. And, well, everyone knows how Haley played out. “You-- You wanted to walk.”

Charlie shakes his head, smiling and playfully poking Hotch’s chest. “No, I want to spend time with you.” Though he’s terrified Aaron will recoil from it, he makes the careful decision to touch him. Smiling when Aaron just looks back at him, searching for something but Charlie isn’t mad so Aaron won’t find what he’s looking for. He strokes Aaron cheek, “I’m cold. You’re cold. We can walk if you want but…”

Hotch looks back down the trail and shakes his head. No, he doesn’t want to walk.

Charlie feels pretty proud of himself. He’s pretty good at this.

And Jack is thrilled to have them back.

Hotch feigns hurt when Jack runs straight past him to Charlie. “Am I chopped liver?” But his light, fluttering chest betrays him and he can’t help a soft smirk as Jack holds Charlie’s hand. Charlie nodding, listening to Jack as he kicks his shoes off.

Emily appears at the mouth of the hall, frowning at the sight before her. She’s in different clothes from when they left. One of her dating apps having finally come through and delivered her plans for this lovely evening. She was just about to call Hotch to tell him she was going to have to call Jessica to watch Jack. “What are you doing back?”

Before Hotch can overthink the question Charlie smirks and motions over his shoulder, “it’s like ten degrees out there. Way too cold for a walk, don’t know what I was thinking.”

Good enough excuse for Emily, she doesn’t care. She has other things on her mind. “I have a date.” Both Aaron and Charlie look surprised. Which is annoying but she won’t engage them in conversation because she’s better than that. “So, I will be out of your hair this afternoon.”

Well, kind of. She steals some of their pizza before she leaves. Even sits down for an episode of Scooby Doo before her date texts and says she’s ready.

“Well, boys,” she leans down and kisses the top of Jack’s head. Wishing him a  good night and a whisper to make sure he’s extra good for his father when Hotch puts him down tonight. “I’m off. I will see you in the morning.” She offers Charlie a cordial head nod and Hotch gets his hair messed with as she passes.

“Be careful,” Hotch calls as she shuts the door.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to fall asleep and Hotch can feel himself slipping with Charlie leaning against him, his hand on the inside of Hotch’s thigh. Warm and comfortable, he doesn’t want to get up. But he manages to get Jack to bed with minimal fighting-- they agree to keep his nightlight, the hall light, and the bathroom light on. Emily even sends a text to confirm that she hasn’t been murdered by her date, he rolls his eyes but appreciates the sentiment.

It’s a good night, all things considered.

For a while, at least.

He’s in bed. Boxers shifted low on his hips as lays atop his beaten, threadbare comforter. The thick, heavy heat of an August night settling thickly over his bones. A blanket of sweat shining on his chest, just barely visible from the light of the hallway peaking into his cracked door. Downstairs, his parents roar on. He can make out every word spoken but if he hums just enough and presses his fingers into the thin mattress until it hurts he can numb out the world.

Nothing.

He thinks about Scott from his biology class. His booming laughter, already having hit his growth spurt and though only sixteen standing over them all in a man’s body. Thick with muscles that Aaron had felt when Scott had pulled him in for a tight, jovial bear hug. Perhaps he’d imagined it but for a split second Aaron had seen a flash of something-- warmth that he, himself, still can not name.

Closing his eyes, he brings back the heat of his stomach. A smile pulling at his lips as he thinks about how it felt pressed to Scott’s chest. Swallowed by the other’s boy’s body. The ache between his hips increases. It’s bad and it’s ugly but it’s Scott that he thinks about. It’s Scott that he wants.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Aaron scrambles upright, both hands planted on the bed as he scurries away from its edge and anywhere near where his father might be able to grab one of his frantically moving limbs. Still, a rough hand is thrown out and Aaron yelps in surprise as his body is yanked to the edge. He can’t hear the words being thrown at him, just looks at his drunken father screaming. Sees his mouth move but knows nothing of their meaning.

He’s wrenched up and out of bed, scrambling to keep up with the direction in which he’s pulled down the hall. To the large, cast iron clawfoot tub in the bathroom. He’s thrown chest first into it’s cold edge, his fingers wrapping tightly around the biting cold of the rim. He knows his fate long before his father’s broad hand grabs onto his hair and hauls him up just enough to push him down into the cold, soapy water.

His ringing ears hearing the slurs being thrown at him. Faggot. He screams as his father punches his exposed chest, causing him to gasp, the bubbles of air hitting his face. He’d used that word before. Thrown it at another boy the way rocks had been thrown at him for doing the same thing-- being too small, wearing weird clothes. He wonders exactly how it is that he can change because he tries. Good Lord, he tries so hard.

“Aaron.”

His vision blacks out for a moment and he’s lifted from the water. Everything feels strangely familiar. He can’t feel the cold water. Can’t feel the water dripping down his face.

“Aaron!”

He can’t expel the water in his throat. The hand on the back of his head tightens as water and his dinner come up, hot and wet against his chest as he’s moved mid-choke. His head goes under and he screams, grabbing frantically at his father’s hand on his head.

“Aaron--”

Screaming Aaron fights weakly against the hands touching him. It takes a moment for the uncoordinated sweeps of his arms to connect with nothing. For him to get a proper amount of space to breathe. The ringing numb of his ears slowly dies and he feels the world creeping back in around him. He blinks into the darkness, chest heaving  First, the dull clicking of fan in the corner of the room. It sweeps left to right, pauses, and comes back right to left. Then the hobbling, swinging of the fan above him. Cold air.

He’s not there in that tiny, suffocating town. In that too-big house with too many places to be seen and not nearly enough to hide.

“You fucking scared me,” pants someone behind him.

A large hand plants itself between his shoulder blades, the bed dipping as weight is moved across it’s top. His body flinches but he’s only minutely aware of the physical movement and, slowly, the rest of him leans into the warmth of the palm. Tears swell as he turns over his shoulder, eyes closed, and going blindly where he knows arms will enclose him. Protect him. “Charlie,” he finally recognizes. His face finds the other man’s shoulder and he feels, rather than hears, the sob that leaves his grimacing lips.

Charlie wraps his arms around Hotch’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

Hotch gives himself over, leaning completely into him. Gently, Hotch feels Charlie moving parts of him to adjust them back onto the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?” Charlie lays back, pulling Hotch’s knee so his hips cant against Charlie’s. The inner side of Hotch’s thighs lies laying across his. There’s no need to open his eyes, to fight. He knows he’s safe.

His tears have slowed but there’s no denying something big has happened. Lately, Hotch has noticed Charlie pushing for him to open up more but Charlie and Hotch’s childhoods are nothing alike. It’s hard to tell him about the dozen times his father put him in the hospital, each time with a better story than the last, and always Hotch’s fault. Had the whole town believing Hotch to be some miscreant kid.

And he was bad but not the sense that was ever true. He’d smoked and drank but that was small-town stuff. Everyone gets into that sort of thing one way or another. He’d had sex but no one he and his partners knew about that, his male partners, anyhow. The first time he’d slept with Haley he’d been proud to have fallen for a woman.

There was an old run-down barn that he’d take boys out to. There was one wall, facing the woods, that was strong enough to support weight and you could lean up against it. He’d been caught only once and the old farmer had beaten him with the wooden end of a rake. The other boy had managed to run off. Hotch’s pants had pooled against around his ankles and the other boy hadn’t taken his completely off his hips. That was a mistake Hotch only made that one time. Not that it would have mattered.

After that day, everyone knew what he was.

Which is what bred his nightmare. Though, that night had gone nothing like his dream. He’d come home with welts and broken ribs from the beating that old farmer gave him. As soon as he opened the door, he knew what was waiting for him. It was from the first floor that his father had dragged him, by his hair, to the second floor. Where Sean’s dirty bathwater sat cooling all afternoon.

But Hotch won’t tell Charlie about that day. It’s not worth it. So he changes the subject. “We need to clean the sheets,” Hotch finally sniffles. His voice is rough from the night’s activities and he remembers what they’d done before he’d fallen asleep and knows that surely did not help. Under his left hip, there is dampness to the old cotton sheet, like something wet has been drying. Sheets probably should be replaced but these are the back-up sheets and the goods ones are in the dryer.

Charlie hums, a vibration that Hotch can feel all the way down to his toes. “That would be your mess,” Charlie informs him matter-of-factly. Pressing his lips to Hotch’s forehead. “I did try to clean you up if you recall.” Charlie’s fingers have wrapped protectively around Hotch’s body, thumb lazily rubbing back and forth over his bare hip. “You told me to fuck off so…”

He remembers. He was still sensitive, shaking with exertion, and hadn’t taken kindly to Charlie dragging a slightly too cold wash rag over his ass. First of all, it was way too wet and secondly, it was cold. What was he to do other than protest?

Charlie’s chest shifts underneath his head as he bends to look at the clock. Yawning deeply Charlie pulls the blankets back over them both, rubbing at Hotch’s hip. “Let’s get some sleep,” he mumbles around another yawn that manages to overtake his breath. “Don’t be afraid to wake me up,” Charlie mumbles. “I want you to wake me up, capeesh?”

Hotch closes his eyes and turns a little more into the warmth of Charlie’s body. Trying to think of nothing. To slow the rapid progressions of his thoughts. There is no way that this was a good idea. A relationship. A life. He brought Haley into his world and looked at what happened. He’s a swirling storm of trouble, sucking in the best parts of the world and ruining them. He’s a liar.

“I love you, Aaron,” Charlie whispers, straining his neck to kiss the top of Hotch’s head. His hand holds Aaron still against him. “I don’t want you to be lying here suffering afraid to talk to me.”

I love you. I love you. I love you. That’s not good. It can’t be. He’s not worth that. Charlie is great. He’s gentle and he’s kind and he’s loving and Hotch can’t even decide when they should eat. If a walk in the park is better than a movie.

“You have not tricked me.” He wonders how Charlie sees so clearly into his mind. It’s not mind reading, Charlie can feel his pounding heart and tense muscles. He’s always so tense. “I love you completely, entirely, enchantingly by choice.” Charlie sighs softly. Content. He wishes desperately to bring Aaron the same peace that Aaron brings him. It's a content, pleased sigh that leaves his mouth and that confuses Aaron so much. No louder than a whisper, seemingly more to himself than to Aaron Charlie whispers. “There are worse life sentences than to be tricked into falling in love with you.”