#like Jesus Christ I hate being asked 20 questions every time I fucking do anything

[its-monster-mash]

Thinking about Bo Sinclair again(never stopped) and I am in PAIN.

Like, how much WEIGHT do you think came off of Bo’s shoulders when his parents died? I mean, we know that the weight of his mother’s abuse is still crushing him given the funeral and how he talks about her.

But I mean in the practical sense—how freeing must it be for Bo to suddenly not be FORCED to do things on other people’s time/demands?

I’m just thinking about his high chair (and the fact that the janky-ass chair in his basement is ALSO old—makes me wonder how old he was when they stopped binding him to things) and like—

I feel as though Bo probably does NOT sit and eat at the kitchen table. Bo probably eats standing, or sitting on the floor, or at a desk in his shop, or in bed(the man is a menace about crumbs I just know it). I just feel like it’s a small freedom that probably at least subconsciously means a lot to him, to be able to do things the way that feels most comfortable to him.

Also I’m imagining a Sinclair Brothers Holiday Dinner and they’re all just laying on the livingroom floor eating because “Fuck a table”. Lester and Vincent can probably eat just fine at a table, but I feel like to have a nice family meal they sit on the floor with Bo and it’s just ritual.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

some thoughts on what living with bakugou would be like:

-he’s weirdly organized. like he remembers where he put everything every time so if ur ever looking for something, most times he’ll just find it for u and it takes like .2 seconds

-will cook meals a large majority of the time, but if u bake sweets he’s an absolue sucker for them.

-if you’re like reALLY allergic to a certain type of bug or plant,, man’s got his eyes pEELED whenever y’all go somewhere together. like lets say, for example, ur allergic to bees. bakugou is blowing bees up left and right and u look at him and ur “no!! stop!!! bees are endangered!!” ,, he looks u dead in the face, like ur stupid or something and says “yeah. because of me. i’m gonna kill all of them.”

- if u have to get in an argument with somebody over the phone, he wants to hear it. like he’ll ask u to put the phone on speaker and he’ll just make mocking, bitchy faces while the other person is speaking. like,, he lets u fight ur own battles, but he wants to be there bullying the other person mercilessly in the background.

-if he doesnt like a song ur playing, he’ll just skip it. won’t ask, wont look at u, he’ll just skip it. borderline dick move tbh

-gets grumpy if u don’t follow his nightly routine on time, but also wont go to sleep without u. like he’ll just stay up and crab at u until u go to bed with him

-likes when u brush his hair for him. like u’ll be brushing yours, totally by urself fine, and he’ll just look at u and clear his throat until u roll ur eyes and beckon him over

-if u get like a bag of junk food or something,, do nOt leave that shit out, bakugou will finish it 10/10 times. he’ll finish it but then look at u and “why the fuck would u even bring that shit in here, huh? u tryin’ to get me out of shape or somethin?” ,, and u look at him like “idk man maybe just dont eat it then.” ,,, the glARE he gives u in response is muRDEROUS //pls this is quite literally the only area he lacks self control dont remind him\\

-has absolutely no regard for neighbors. he yells a lot and if y’all get noise complaints he just glares and 😡💥at the neighbor until they get scared and leave

-he thinks it’s funny to just subtly move things from time to time. like, for example, lets say plates. ,,, so like, u always keep plates on the left side of a certain cabinet, right?? but if he’s putting dishes away and feeling particularly petulant that day, he’ll just put away the plates on the right side instead. man’s then proceeds to smirk and laugh at u every time u open the wrong side of the cabinent from then on with a “jeez, u rlly are a moron, huh? they’re on the right side, remember?” god he’s annoying

-genuinely enjoys going grocery shopping by himself. like idk he just thinks it’s his quiet, personal time, u kno?? and he enjoys doing super-intense meal prep for the week anyways so he’s gotta make sure he gets the right ingredients

-u just hear muffled screaming from time to time. like u’ll be in the kitchen eating breakfast totally calm, and he’s making the bed and all the sudden just a “jesus fucking christ, swear to fuck im gonna blow up this stupid fuckin’ fitted sheet!” (which honestly??? valid. fuck fitted sheets.)

-if he doesn’t want to hang out with the bakusquad but they’re forcing him he’ll text u something like “I love you.” and then ofc ur like “i love u too. but also, u never just say that to me normally?? is something wrong?” and then total radio silence from him for like 20 mins and u get super worried,, and then he just sends u a video of mina or denki being loud with a “Can you get sick or something? I want to come home.” ,, i- 🧍

- isnt going to want a pet,, but if u have, like, a dog already when u move in with him, then it’s going to become bakugou’s dog. if he’s going to have to have a dog than he’s gonna make sure it likes him more than u

-hates doing laundry. will volunteer to do dishes instead 11/10 times

-he doesn’t sing in the shower but 100% plays the drums on the walls or his own stomach fight me on this

-he hates the smell of nail polish/nail polish remover. so if ur painting ur nails he’ll just walk in the room and walk directly out,, quickest way to get alone time

-speaking of alone time- say bye. u’ll get none of it,,, it’s not that he’s constantly on top of u or like talking to u, he just always sorta ends up in whatever room u are. like a cat, pretty much. like he won’t say anything, but if u get up to do something, he gets up and chooses to move his lounging to somewhere nearby

-he likes to scare the shit out of u. just like, rlly juvenile stuff like hiding around corners just to jump out at u. will just stand there and laugh when u scream, and will never, never apologize

-he gets weirdly worked up about hair?? just hates it, thinks it’s disgusting if he sees a stray hair anywhere. even if its his own. like yes it’s gross ig, but he gets so 🤮 about it

-he does house chores unecessarily loudly. like, u watch him and it seems like he’s doing everything totally normally,, but jesus christ why is it so loud

-gets bitchy around christmas if u decorate without him. he will complain the eNTIRE time if he does have to decorate, but will throw an even bigger fit if u dare to do it without him

-he gets mad if people drive too fast in ur neighborhood/ past ur apartment complex. like, y’all have 0 (zero!) kids, but he’s still up at the window like “Slow the fuck down, asshole! Why the hell doesn’t anyone have any common fuckin’ sense around here? That’s dangerous, you piece of shit!”

-if u sing around the house a lot, it’s the only habit of urs he’ll have absolutely nothing to say about. like it doesn’t even matter if ur a good singer or not, he just likes when he can hear u in the house even if ur not in the same room. he finds it comforting

-bakugou hates having people over to ur place. he thinks of it like his calm-space/safe-haven and it rlly pisses him off when people are there

-on the rare days he doesn’t have to work at all and stays home, mans is a total baby. he just refuses to get up for anything other than bathroom or meals and even then goes straight back to bed. he takes basically a 24 hr nap and expects u to do the same with him he’s so dramatic pls

-will make snarky comments about reality tv shows with u. just the bitchiest shit possible bc he enjoys trash talking as an art form, and absolutely does not care who it’s about

-likes to watch u do skincare stuff. he won’t ask questions and will be borderline offended if u offer some to him, but he just likes to watch u do it. man’s thinks of it as like his personal asmr

-hates online shopping. (pls i have absolutely no explanation for this one i just know its true)

-he has a lot of pride in his house so it’s actually rlly well decorated. like, he would never consent to living somewhere busted, lmaooo, so if u dont kno how to decorate he’ll figure it out for the both of u

-u can always tell if he’s falling asleep bc he constantly does that weird full-body jerk. like the one where it feels like ur falling

[cxsmicmyeon]

HAPPY NEW YEAR , OSH [M]

oh sehun x fem! reader

IN WHICH you're forced to go to your best friend's giant new year's eve party, only to hit it off with someone who equally doesn't want to be there.

genre: college au! fluff and smut (toward the end) word count: 5.0k warnings: stupid jokes, swearing, sexual content, dirty talk, cunnilingus

author's note: MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. also this is cross-posted from ao3 (i wrote it back in january for the new year lol). feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

Ugh.

That was the only word that came to mind as you navigated your way through the banquet hall. You grumbled to yourself as you adjusted your dress for the fifteenth time that night, resulting in your clutch dropping onto the floor. You resisted the urge to shout an expletive as you bent to pick the small bag up, which only resulted in your dress moving to that stupid spot that you didn't want it to go. A soft 'God' slipped from your lips as you adjusted your dress once again, this time gripping your clutch tightly in your right hand. Once you were contented, you resumed your trek to the venue you tried hopelessly to avoid.

Tonight was your best friend's annual New Year's Eve extravaganza. Normally you'd be a bit more willing to attend, as these parties were usually limited to 20-30 people in either her parent's house or your shared apartment, but apparently she found the need to rent out an entire fucking rooftop penthouse room filled to the brim with alcohol, hors d'oeuvres and packed with every single student that went to your college. 

To put it rather bluntly, you hated the party scene that came with college. The thought of being at some fraternity with obnoxiously loud music shaking the entire house, an entire mass of sweaty drunk people doing God knows what and random couples eating each other's faces off was unappealing to be a part of. Maybe it sounds rather prudish, but you highly preferred nights in with a bottle of wine on your coffee table and Netflix queued up on the next episode of your favorite show or your laptop open to continue writing your novel over an en masse of horny and drunk people shoving you around the living room of someone's house.

Your best friend, on the other hand, lived for partying. Every Saturday night not spent studying, she'd beg you to come to the party her boyfriend or classmate was having. And after your declination and 'Don't have too much fun!" she'd return the next morning with a giant hangover with (on some occasions) hickeys on her neck that looked like vampire bites. By now, you were used to her drunk texts at 3 am and having to hold up her hair every time she puked her guts out. And these were reasons that simply fueled your hatred for large parties.

New Year's Eve was your only exception for large parties (mostly). Back in high school, her parents allowed her to invite you and a few classmates over for what they called a 'New Year's Sleepover.' You liked those well enough simply because they were rather small, you knew everyone there and you even got to steal a drink of champagne from the wine closet. As you entered college, the past two parties became a tad more crowded but were still bearable in your eyes. But this year, the New Year's Eve of your junior year, took the cake. Exams were a lot more rigorous this year and to celebrate everyone getting through it, your idiot of a best friend used practically all of her savings to rent out the largest rooftop venue in your area for what she called 'the New Year's party that'll fuck any other party in the ass.' She sent invites to the entire student body (which, naturally, 95% of them RSVP'ed to). While you tried your best to stop her, she persisted. And when you begged her to let you stay at home, she persisted yet again. So here you were, bracing yourself for a night of... honestly you had no clue.

You stopped in front of the entrance of the large room, your breath hitching in your throat. The music was from a genre you weren't familiar with, the bar was blocked by a large crowd and your best friend was nowhere to be seen. Slightly turning around from the disaster waiting to happen, you took in a deep breath before turning back and entering. 

The stench of champagne and sweat immediately made you recoil and question your decision for even coming. You internally scoffed as you shifted through the crowd to find your best friend. You softly muttered 'excuse me' to every person you passed (or accidentally shoved) as you begged whoever was in the sky that your best friend was near. You struck gold when you saw her sprawled out on a loveseat surrounded by her boyfriend and others you didn't know by name. You pushed through a few more people before stopping in front of the group. Your best friend turned around immediately and let out a loud squeal.

"Heyyy!" she slurred as she threw her arm around you. You rolled your eyes as a smile etched itself onto your face, knowing she was already drunk as hell.

"Hiiii..." you responded, replicating her energy. She let out a loud howl of laughter as she led you to a small table next to the sofa. She picked up a plastic flute filled with champagne and practically shoved it in your hand. You laughed as she grabbed a red plastic cup from her boyfriend's hand.

"A toast, to the New Year!" she bellowed as she clinked your glass and her cup together.

"Happy New Year!" You responded. She snickered as she led you to sit down on the sofa. 

"Hey (Y/N), Happy New Year!" 

"You too, Baekhyun." You clinked your glass with your best friend's boyfriend's glass and took a sip of the fizzy drink. You let out a breath you were unaware you were holding in as the familiar taste of champagne washed over your tastebuds. Even if you were dreading tonight, you couldn't deny the free food and drinks being made available.

Quickly you were introduced and re-introduced to a bunch of Baekhyun's friends. They were nice enough, sure, but you found their energy to be a bit much (especially paired with the excess of alcohol that they all consumed). Luckily, you gave the group the excuse that you needed another drink and left them to their own accords. 

After taking a second flute of champagne from the bar, you found yourself wandering onto the balcony. Luckily for you, it was completely deserted. With a small smile, you shut the sliding door and wandered toward the metal railing, slowly sipping your champagne. Setting the plastic flute and your clutch down on a nearby table, you readjusted your dress (yes, again) and slipped your heels off, sighing in relief that your feet were finally free from those restrictive shoes. You felt a chill down your spine as your feet touched the bare ground, stepping a couple of times in place to help adjust to the temperature. You took the champagne glass from off of the table and lifted it to your lips, taking another sip as you looked out into the night sky. 

You took a deep breath as you finally felt yourself relax. The music from inside the venue was muffled a great deal and the cold temperature the winter night brought was a comforting contrast to the heat from inside the building coupled with the crowd of sweaty college students. The sky was thankfully clear from any clouds, so you were able to enjoy the comforting presence that the waning gibbous moon coupled with the scattered stars brought. Taking another sip of your champagne, you took a few steps until you felt the cold metal of the railing. You leaned slightly forward as you continued looking and admiring the sky, feeling surprisingly at peace considering your location. 

Soon enough you realized that someone else has also decided to leave the party, as you heard the music grow louder then muffled again. You turned to see a tall man around your age typing quickly on his phone with a red plastic cup in his other hand. A tall, attractive man at that.

He wore a simple oversized gray hoodie coupled with a pair of blue jeans. His jet black hair appeared tousled underneath his dark beanie, and suddenly you felt a tad overdressed. You couldn't help but ogle at how his brows furrowed in concentration as he continued looking down at his phone, how eerily well-defined his jawline was- wait, scratch that- how his entire face was well-defined. You couldn't help but mutter 'damn...' to yourself as you looked away for a second to gather your thoughts. When you looked over at him again, he was staring in your direction. Immediately you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as he walked a little closer to you.

"Hi, sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting your vibe or anything." he said softly. 

"Oh, don't worry about it, you're good. 'S long as you're not loud or annoying." you joked in response. He let out a short laugh as he downed the rest of his drink, placing the empty cup next to your clutch. You took a small sip of your champagne and turned back to look at the sky. Absentmindedly, you placed the glass down onto the balcony, not realizing that the bars were too narrow to support the bottom of the glass. You looked down in utter shock as the glass made its descent down the building. You covered your mouth with your hands when the glass shattered before your eyes on the ground below. Turning around you saw the man pursing his lips together in an attempt to hold back a laugh. When he looked back at you, you couldn't help but let out a loud giggle. He doubled down with laughter at the event, which only made you laugh harder. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, how tragic." you chuckled. The man covered his mouth to try and conceal his louder waves of laughter; the sound intensifying your own laughter. Eventually, you let out a loud sigh in an attempt to calm yourself down. The man coughed into his elbow and cleared his throat, effectively calming himself down.

"You want another one of those?" he asked, pointing to the mess of glass shards and wasted champagne well below them.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though," you responded with a smile. He nodded, looking around the area for a second. "Huh, it's clear you don't wanna be here either."

He let out a playful scoff as he stretched his arms. "How'd you know?"

"'Cause you're out here with some random ass girl you don't even know when you could be among that sweaty-ass crowd of other people you don't even know." you deadpanned. He chuckled at your joke, which made you smile a bit as a result.

"I'm Sehun, by the way." he said, holding his hand out in front of you.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you." You replied, shaking his hand. You felt your heart skip a beat at the contact; his hands were slightly calloused but surprisingly soft at the same time. You unconsciously squeezed his hand before pulling away, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as you blushed slightly.

"So... how'd you get invited to this? I think like every student was invited." Sehun inquired.

"Oh, my best friend actually was the one who invited everyone. Obviously I had to show up 'cause she is my best friend. Even if I loathe the idea of hundreds of loud, drunk college kids gathered in one giant venue with music I don't even like to listen to. But it's cool, though. 'Least there's a balcony out here for some peace and quiet," you explained. "How about you?"

"I came with my brother. One of his friends I believe is dating your best friend? So, obviously, he insisted I come with." he responded.

You let out a short laugh at his response. "Baekhyun is her boyfriend."

"Right... Yeah, they're pretty close."

"Oh sick, I may know him. What's his name?"

"Jongin."

"Oh, Jongin! Yeah, I know him. He's pretty nice." Sehun nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Yeah, a lot of people know him. Obviously. He's so popular. He's so handsome. Loads of girls and guys wanna get into his pants 'cause he's such a good dancer. Everyone loves Jongin. Meanwhile, when people find out we're related, they always ask 'Oh you're so quiet! You're so different from Jongin!' Well sorry I don't party 24/7 and actually study a lot so I can get my degree!" Sehun ranted. You were stunned at his sudden anger. A soft expression made its way onto your face as you wanted nothing but to quell his fury.

"I'm so sorry, I know that's a lot to unload on a complete stranger. I'll go back in now." Sehun began to make his way back inside before you grabbed his arm, stopping his movement. He turned around with a shocked expression present on his face.

"Shh. Don't worry about it at all. I get your frustration, honestly. I know what it's like to get those comments. It fucking sucks, I know. But can I say something? I've known Jongin for a few months and you for like a half-hour and wanna know something? I feel a lot more comfortable around you than him. Again, he's a good guy and all, but a little much at times. I vibe better with more reserved people honestly." you reassured, giving his arm a small squeeze before letting go. His face lit up at your comment. A grin etched itself on his face as he walked back to his previous spot.

"So. Who is Sehun 'I-Don't-Know-Your-Last-Name-So-Fuck-This-Bit-Isn't-Gonna-Work?' You do go to ISU, right?" you asked, grinning.

"It's Oh. And yes, I do go to ISU." Sehun responded.

"Okay, hi Sehun Oh. I'm (Y/N) (L/N). And holy shit we go to the same school! How come we've never run into each other?" 

"Hi, (Y/N) (L/N). Also, I'm a chem major, is your major different?"

"Oh, no wonder! My major's secondary English education. Science is on the opposite side of campus, right?"

"Yeah. We should totally hang out sometime. Well, when we're not escaping a large ass party." You let out a giggle at his quip, which caused him to blush and rub the back of his neck.

"I'd like that a lot," You gave him a warm smile, resulting in a warm blush spreading across your face. Sehun smiled sheepishly in return, looking down at his feet again.

"So... uh... wait, shit. I'm not good with small talk, sorry." he rambled, folding his hands together while twiddling his thumbs.

"Don't worry, neither am I. Uh... I dunno... Wait, I got it. What do you do besides studying since you don't like to party 24/7 like the icon you are?" You and Sehun began giggling softly as he put his hands on his hips.

"Well, I actually dance. Jongin and I have been taking lessons since we were kids. And, uh... my friend Chanyeol and I composed a couple of songs together for his music class a while back. And I made up choreography for one of them." 

You felt your jaw drop at Sehun's answer. "You dance and make music? That's so fucking sick! You literally became 10 times cooler than you already are. Uh, not that you weren't cool to begin with... but, uh, making music and dancing is hard! Honestly, kudos to you." 

"Thanks," he said, grinning sheepishly. "How 'bout you?"

"Well... I read a lot, I write a lot, I'm finishing up my second novel, uh... that's it, I guess. Well, besides studying."

"Hold on. You've written a whole novel? You're calling me 'the cool one' when you wrote a novel? And you have another one in progress? You're amazing," You swore you were going to faint. "Now you have to show me." 

"Do I have to?" you pouted.

"Pleeeeaseeeee? Please, please, please?" Sehun whined.

"Hm... I have a proposition for you. Show me your choreography and your song and maybe I'll let you read a few chapters of my first novel."

"Deal." 

"Well damn, okay. Show me the song first."

Sehun nodded and took his phone out of his pocket. He spent a few seconds typing and scrolling before setting it down on the table.

"Uh, it's called 'We Young,'" Sehun stated quickly before tapping the middle of his phone screen. He backed up from the table and straightened himself out. You focused your attention on him as the song began playing from his phone. You let out a soft 'ooh,' immediately being intrigued and fascinated by the melody of the piano and the drum beats chosen. As you heard Sehun sing from the phone, he closed his eyes and felt himself get lost in his dance.

Your jaw dropped at the sight. Watching the way his fluid movements intricately matched the rhythm of his song was like watching a flurry of snow getting caught in a gust of wind. His passion for the craft was full-on displayed right in front of you. Every single movement he made perfectly encapsulated the message of his song. The way he bobbed his head for a few seconds before jumping straight into the chorus while mouthing the lyrics kept your attention. You simply couldn't look away.

'God, the way he moves his hips. I so wouldn't mind him moving those hips against my-'

You shook your head at your thoughts. Sure, Sehun was nice. And really hot. And also really easy to talk to. But would he be comfortable with doing anything with you? You did not want to push anything onto him, even if it meant you had to repress any thoughts you had about him maybe fucking you against the railing like the world was going to end. Or feeling those large hands cup your breast and rub your clit simultaneously. Maybe.

Before you knew it, Sehun stopped his dance and paused the song. "So... what did you think?" Sehun's voice snapped you out of your trance, feeling yourself blush due to your inappropriate thoughts. You shook your head lightly and turned to face him.

"What did I think? What did I think? Holy shit, that was... that was amazing! You are so fucking talented, it's unreal!" you exclaimed while clapping your hands softly. He grinned at your response, happy that you liked the song and dance.

"Okay, (Y/N)'s novel time! Yay!" he cheered. You playfully rolled your eyes as you opened up your clutch to take your phone out. You unlocked it and pulled up Google Docs, opening up your manuscript to show him.

"So this is the final manuscript of my first novel, titled 'Neckties and Rosé'. It's a cheesy, romantic, sexy, angsty mess of an office romance. Or, to put it lightly, angstier and sexier Jim and Pam from 'The Office.'" you explained. Sehun nodded and giddily took the phone out of your hands.

He began to dramatically read the prologue of the book. As he read, you were alternating between laughing hysterically at the various voices he gave the different characters and whining due to his teasing of the actions of the characters. You also noticed that he was enjoying himself thoroughly, much to your delight. You felt as if you were around one of your closest friends rather than a complete stranger at the moment, sharing similar humor and personality traits. 

"'While Cordelia angrily slammed her car door, she swore she saw Rocky throw her a cocky smirk through the rearview mirror, which only added fuel to the dumpster fire that was her hazed state of mind.' And that concludes the prologue of 'Neckties and Rosé.'" Sehun announced, locking your phone and handing it back to you.

"So... whaddya think?" you asked shyly, looking down at your feet.

"(Y/N)... that was so fucking great! It sounded like you've been writing for like a thousand years rather than it being your first novel. Damn, you're amazing. Please send me it when you can, I wanna read the rest!" he praised, grinning at you. You couldn't help but return his smile, a jovial feeling igniting inside. 

After a beat, you turned your phone on to look at the time: 11:59 PM.

"Oh shit, it's almost midnight!" you exclaimed, showing Sehun the time. 

"Oh, wow. I honestly thought it was still 10-ish." 

Soon enough, you began to hear the crowd inside count down from thirty, signaling the close arrival of the New Year. You bashfully looked at Sehun as you began twiddling your fingers together.

"Can I say something?" you questioned, earning a nod from the dark-haired male. "I... I've never had a New Year's kiss."

"Um, me neither, actually."

"D-d'you want to... I mean, if you're comfortable of course."

"Uh, yeah, sure. I kind of wanted to ask earlier, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to kiss me."

"Trust me, I would be honored to kiss you." You walked closer to Sehun until your bodies were centimeters apart. 

"Three!"

You blushed as Sehun wrapped his toned arms around your waist. A jolt of electricity pulsed through your body at the contact, causing you to put your hands on the back of his neck.

"Two!"

He gave you a small smile as you stood on your tippy-toes, mentally preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

"One!"

You closed your eyes as you slowly leaned in for the kiss.

"Happy New Year!"

The moment your lips touched his, you swore you could feel fireworks going off inside of you. The scent of his musky cologne filled your nose as you kissed back with equal fervor. Sehun let out a groan as you entangled your fingers through his dark locks. His hand snaked down your back and cupped a handful of your ass, causing you to moan in his mouth. He took the opportunity to bite your lip lightly and put his tongue in your mouth. You cupped his cheek and pressed yourself even closer to him, practically getting drunk on the scent of his cologne and the subtle taste of beer on his lips.

"Yooo! Get some, (Y/N) and Sehun!"

You regrettably pulled away from Sehun as you turned to the door separating the balcony and the inside of the venue. You saw a drunk Baekhyun being held up by your equally tipsy best friend and one of his taller friends, also with the boys you recognized from earlier in the night. You felt yourself turn red as you buried your face in your hands. 

"Girlie, no worries! Get some tonight! Lord knows ya need it!" your best friend slurred before letting out a loud hiccup. 

"Same goes for you, Sehun!" another one of Baekhyun's friends jeered, earning a soft 'Ugh' from the taller male next to you. The boys began laughing and teasing Sehun as you collected your shoes and clutch, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

"You wanna get out of here?" You heard Sehun whisper in your ear, sending a chill down your spine. 

"God, yes." 

The boys and your best friend erupted into whoops and cheers as Sehun took your hand into his and led you back inside of the banquet hall. He held you close as you pushed past the larger crowd of drunk college students. Luckily you successfully left the venue unscathed and made your way to the elevator, out of breath and silently giggling.

"Wait, fuck. I don't have my car with me." you muttered as you followed Sehun inside of the elevator.

"I have mine, don't worry." Sehun responded before capturing your lips again. You uttered a soft moan as you pressed him against the back wall of the elevator. He broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

"God, I could take you right here baby. You're so fucking hot." he mused, nipping at your neck. You whimpered in pleasure as he sucked your sweet spot and palmed your ass until the doors of the elevator opened. He took your hand into his and led you out of the shaft, out of the building and to his car.

It took every fiber of your being to resist shoving Sehun into the backseat of his car and fucking him right there. He insisted on taking you to his apartment for, in his words, 'a lot more privacy.' The ride over to his place was silent yet filled to the brim with sexual tension. As he drove, you held back a moan as he placed his big hand on your thigh and almost ordered to stop the car as his fingers slowly yet surely moved toward your clothed core.

As soon as you entered the apartment, his lips were immediately on yours again. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as he hoisted your legs up so you could wrap them around his waist. Impressed by his strength and flexibility, you cupped his cheeks in the palms of your hands and deepened the kiss.

He brought you into his bedroom and slammed the door before laying you down onto his bed. He looked at you with hooded eyes as he pulled his hoodie off and discarded it to the side. You reached your hands under his t-shirt, feeling the smooth outline of his abs before pulling it over his head. You ogled at how his chest shone under the moonlight, indistinctly licking your lips as you put your hair back. He wrapped his arms around you, leaving butterfly kisses along your neck and jawline as he unzipped your dress.

You shifted away from Sehun to slide your dress down your legs and toss it across the room. His eyes flew down to your braless chest, a small smirk toying with his features. 

“No bra? You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” A smart remark got stuck on your tongue as he latched his lips onto your left breast. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he brought his hand to your other breast, massaging it gently. You threw your head back in absolute bliss. How were you getting this wet from him simply touching you?

Sehun laid you down on the bed, giving you a lingering kiss before pulling your panties down your legs. 

“Wet for me already, hm?” Sehun hummed as he grazed a finger down your folds. He let out a contented hum as he lowered himself down between your legs, spreading your thighs apart while licking your arousal off his finger. 

“Oh God, Sehun!” you moaned out as he slid his tongue between your folds. He eagerly began licking your dripping cunt, groaning softly as he tasted you for the first time. You fisted a handful of his jet black hair as he alternated between sucking on your clit and lapping your juices like a man starved.

"You taste so fucking good," he cooed, the vibration of his voice between your legs sending a jolt of electricity down to your center. You felt your orgasm creep closer and closer the more he ate you out.

"S-Sehun, I'm gonna..." you cried out. Right as you were on the cusp of coming all over Sehun's beautiful face, he stopped his ministrations and looked back up at you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. You whined as he wiped your juices off of his chin, slipping his digits into his mouth. Your jaw dropped at the sight; here this gorgeous man was, licking your arousal off his long fingers. It drove you bonkers. 

"Shh, you're not gonna cum unless it's all over my cock. I want your pretty cunt wrapped around me as you cum, got that baby?" You nodded with a whine as Sehun walked over to his bedside drawer. He opened it and took out a condom, ridding himself of his pants and boxer briefs as he walked back to you.

"Mmmh, hurry up, I need you inside of me," you croaked, watching Sehun stroke his half-hard cock, eliciting another moan. He tossed you the golden package, which you happily ripped open.

"So needy," he scoffed. You stuck your tongue out at him while you rolled the condom onto his cock, palming him swiftly. He hissed as he aligned himself to your entrance, wrapping his arms around you. "Ready?"

"Just fuck me already."

With a click of his tongue, Sehun quickly pushed himself inside of you. You gasped as he filled you, blissfully stretching your walls in the most perfect way. Never have you had a partner who made you feel this good, made you feel so full. Your eyes shut in pure pleasure as he began to move. His thrusts started off slow but gradually picked up the pace; each movement filled with utmost care. He cradled you as if you were made of porcelain, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as possible.

"Christ, (Y/N), you're so fucking tight. So pretty wrapped around my cock." 

"Fuck," You felt yourself being brought back to the brink of your orgasm as he continued his languid thrusts inside you. "Sehun, I'm close."

He hummed as his thrusts became sloppier, feeling his own orgasm coming close as well. You opened your eyes to see Sehun's face contorted in pleasure as he moved inside of you. The sight made you come undone, your body clenching around his cock as you felt juts of white-hot pleasure seep from your center to his cock. His movements became sloppier and sloppier before he filled the condom with his own release, grunting loudly at the sensation.

You breathed heavily as you came down from your high. Sehun pulled out of you and stood to dispose of the condom as you relished in what just happened. You turned to see him bringing a box of tissues over to you, almost swooning at the sight.

"Thank you," you hummed as he cleaned you up. He nodded, placing a chaste kiss onto your sweaty forehead before disposing of the tissues. He took your panties and one of his t-shirts from off the floor and handed both articles of clothing to you. You thanked him silently as you pulled the material over your head, relishing in how the shirt smelled just like him. 

He climbed into bed after putting on a fresh set of boxers, beckoning you to come closer to him. You sighed in contentment as he cuddled close to you, feeling your eyes close as soon as he wrapped the duvet around the both of you.

[kaissauce]

okay, phucker, do it

ok let's do this @rolli-zolli @ninikins

Horrortale: technically an alternate timeline instead of au. after a neutral run where undyne's queen the core malfunctions and food becomes scarce and people resort to eating humans because sans suggested it. Aliza is the protag. latest thing that happened in the ongoing comic was Aliza agreeing to go with Papyrus to solve his last puzzle. as for the appearance of sans he has a HUGE hole on his head and a red eye. he got the hole from undyne when she got his magic eye which was going to be used to power the core. sans didnt die tho and killed the guards holding him down and just took whatever eye was on the ground and used it as a replacement for his magic eye that's powering the core. i quote first words he said after putting the eye in his socket "who the fuck took my phone?". then the magic eye went apeshit and broke the core again. oh and also he made alphys braindead by quite literally scrambling her brain. yeah this au is rough sans hasn't really eaten anything since the core was destroyed since he decided not to eat any humans.

Dusttale: i think this was originally a korean au? basic rundown: too many genocide runs sans goes apeshit and tries to get his Lv up by killing monsters himself man went fuckin insane kills his brother blah blah blah edgy angsty au the ghost of papyrus haunts him n stuff. sans literally just looks the same except he has his hood on and sometimes artists draw him with papyrus's scarf. the cool artists draw him with his hood on and has the hood completely cover his face so u can only see his glowing pupils. although people call him dust sans he's actually named murder sans

Killer: so frickin similar to dusttale except sans goes apeshit because of the human being like "join me lmao". three different outcomes come from this. i think it was 1 sans joins human 2 sans joins human kills human later on 3 kills human or something. friends with color sans who is basically his impulse control. pretty sure his soul's fucked up and Color sans tries to make his soul un-fucked but Nightmare comes in and fucks up the progress. he has white shorts, his eye sockets are constantly pitch black and leaking tar or something also has a weird target thingy on his chest. OH YEAH ALSO HE HAS BEEF WITH UNDERSWAP SANS ALMOST FORGOT. basically swap sans tried to make killer good and then they had a fight, swap sans lost and was on the verge of dying thankfully swap papyrus was able to save him in time i think

Dreamtale: Dream isn't in the drawing but his brother, Nightmare is. Sooo he used to not look all goooy and have tentacles n stuff but then he ate a couple hundred apples and yeah. he's six years old apparently. Nightmare and Dream are supposed to be guardians of a tree that has 500 golden apples and 500 black n goopy apples. the golden aples are positive and the goop ones are negative. you're not supposed to eat either of them cus bad shit happens. Dream and Nightmare live in a village and for whatever reason they're all dicks to Nightmare because ooughh he's the guardian of negativity that's not baller. he also goes apeshit (do u see a pattern here) and eats a goopy apple n then becomes the goop man he is today. he fuckin eats 999 apples jesus christ. and the last one is eaten by Dream because if u eat all 1000 apples u become unstoppable and immortal. so that would be a bad thing if nightmare got the last one. wop wop wop these dude aren't sanses they only have the body of one if that makes sanse.

Error: manlet. he's literally an error and that's why he's like that. also he's technically not a sans now, the redesign for him was so that he could be in the creator's webcomic named Lucidia. Error sans, aka the destroyer of aus, finds aus to be mistakes so he tries to get rid of them. his process of doing this is simple: get the human soul to the void so that they can't reset, destroy the au. he primarily attacks using his strings which can wrap around one's soul and control them. he like some aus like outertale because of how open and empty it is. he likes to be alone and has haphephobia. if u touch him he'll glitch out and possibly crash. he crashes whenever gets overwhelmed. said crashing causes him to shut down and reboot and he's powerless while doing so. he's actually pretty easy to beat if you know how to push his buttons the right way. in the og ask error blog made by his creator Loverofpiggies he kidnaps Swap sans who tries to help Error become a better person. this ends horribly as error leaves Swap sans in the void who then becomes an error aswell due to being alone in the void too long. Error actually regrets doing that to swap sans

Aftertale: OK FUN FACT THE SANS OF THIS AU, WHO'S NICKNAMED "Geno" IS ERROR. aftertale is a comic made by LoverofPiggies it's been SOOOO long since i last read it so i cant really give a good summary. but anyways Geno is trapped in the loading screen with the human and will die if he leaves the loading screen. eventually from being in the loading screen for too long after the events of aftertale he becomes Error.

OOF WOWIE THERE'S SO MUCH TO GO

Underfresh: he's not even a sans either. "Fresh" is a parasite inhabiting a skeleton. his birthday is on 4/20 which is ironic cus he doesn't like drugs. he censors swears. he speaks 90's lingo and dresses like a neon sign. for some reason he has eyebrows and a gold tooth. the glasses he has can change text but normally defaults to "YOLO". he can't feel anything since he has no soul of his own and just latches onto the host's. instead he learns how to act from the people around him. not being able to feel actually bothers him a LOT

Echotale: Aka Gaster sans. uhhh this one was also a comic if i remember correctly. basically Frisk and G!Sans are the only ones in the au and they're trying to find the core to fix the fucked up timeline that they're in but the core keeps changing positions so that sucks.

Swapfell: originally made by Khhoppang who left social media. Started out as an Alphys x Undyne au so only those two were designed but Kh was planning to design more of the characters. before they could people had a field day with the idea of mashing two aus together and SO many people came up with their own designs for sans and papyrus. Khhoppang left social media because they got overwhelmed with all the art reposters and stuff, pretty sad. the appearance of the sans in that au is the purple one with a scythe (i dont think he has a scythe in the og design).

Swapfell Red: so basically this is the swapfell made by people that isn't Khhoppang. community made per se. Sans's appearance changes constantly because as said before many people made many different designs. typically he just looks like Swap sans but with red high heel boots and his color scheme fits underfell

Fellswap (gold): Au made by blackggggum. so swapfell is underswap turned fell, fell swap is underfell swapped it takes a bit to understand that. his appearance is somewhat similar to Swapfell red. He's kind to his friends but if ur his enemy he'll fucking deck you. he's blind in his left eye, the leader of the royal guard, and secretly into dressmaking. fun fact in this au Papyrus has autism

Xtale: uuuuhhhh so Cross is a complicated one. he's part of the royal guard along with papyrus. has beef with xgaster. responsible for the downfall of his au and then Underverse happens and Ink is all "oh cool someone to mess with" and they became friends for a bit then shit hit the fan

Underfell: OOOOO YES UNIRONICALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES. So Underfell sans is actually a very powerful mf and constantly has his magic eye activated because he has so much magic. This au is also technically an alternate timeline where monsters "lost their humanity" as the creator put it. so basically trust in the underground is scarce. Sans and papyrus, contrary to many interpretations i fucking hate, are actually on good terms (and no sans doesn't call papyrus "boss" the creator said if he does he'd do it ironically and papyrus would hate it). Fun facts he pays Grillby in socks (grillby accepts the socks as payment and wears them), if u make grillby laugh he gives u a jacket that looks like his and it's heavily implied that sans made him laugh because their jackets are similar

Underswap: ah yes another classic that i love as well. originally made by PopcornPr1nce who fled social media because they hated how the majority fandom treated Underswap (Blueberry and Carrot were popular names for the fanon swap papyrus and sans). Swap sans is constantly infantilized by the community which sucks and i hate it so i draw my own very super cool version of him whom i kin because i am also very super cool.

Outertale: mainly an aesthetic au pretty sure there's no comic of it. basically, instead of underground they in space. outer sans dies in underverse after like minutes of screentime lmao

Epictale: a comic made by Yugogeer. the og comic was retconned and the creator loathes the original version and made a reboot that's much better. Sans actually dies very early in it because Yugo hates how Sans is almost always focused on in aus. also the creator hates how meme-y their sans has become (like him saying bruh every single sentence, using a rubber chicken as a weapon, cookies, etc.) he's friends with Cross but not in canon. He has a purple magic eye that makes him immortal and i think only epic gaster could remove it which is how sans was able to be killed when he fought gaster.

Temmietale: it's undertale but everyone is temmie, don't question it

Trainertale: it's undertale but it's Pokemon, don't question it

Dancetale: it's undertale but you dance instead of fight, don't

Mobtale/Mafiatale: im unsure if mobtale and mafiatale are separate or not but they are very similar. basically undertale but mafia it's self explanatory

Undertale: no clue which au is this one, nope not at all/j

Bittytale or whatever idk: so take sans, make him small. boom. never understood this au

THAT BASTARD INK: HOOO BOY SAVED THE WORST FOR LAST. FUCK THIS GUY/j. THIS DUDE. IS THE REASON IM STILL INTO UNDERTALE AUS. I LOVE EM SO MUCH. also technically not a sans. He comes from an unfinished au and ripped his own soul to escape said au and became an outcode. for so long he was just a soulless husk until someone drew him and he got splashed with paint which let him feel. soon he learned to keep the paint in vials so that he can be able to feel 24/7. And then he learned how to create things with a paintbrush and the paint and spent time alone drawing up his own world until a portal appeared and took him to the multiverse. now he encourages artists to keep creating aus. he's the protector of aus in the sense that he keeps other outcodes from disrupting the script of the au, so if it's pacifist and an outcode tries to kill people he'd stop them, if it's genocide and an outcode tried to help them he'd stop them. no matter what he wants the au to stay on script. fun fact the creator of ink and the creator of error never had them interact with each other in canon, that was all the fandom's doing. Contrary to popular belief he's not really considered "good" his alignment is officially "Chaotic neutral". I personally interpret him a lot more chaotic than in canon because it's fun but he's a pretty chill guy actually. he can just be a bit of an ass sometimes. According to the creator of Ink (who is Comyet) his interpretation in Underverse is not canon compliant. one of the biggest canon things that underverse contradicts is Ink deliberately not taking his vials. if he were to do that in canon he'd become a husk again which is the equivalent of him "dying". he was described as a walking corpse by Comyet, without the vials he can't function anymore. Like Error he's pretty easy to beat if you know his weaknesses. also he has fears of empty spaces and being alone

off topic kinda but i very much love how Error and Ink are opposites yet parallel even though they were completely written without the other in mind. Error believes getting rid of aus is getting rid of anomalies. Ink believes people interfering with aus are anomalies. Error loves emptiness, Ink hates emptiness. list goes on it's funky fresh.

also uhhh sanses missing from that drawing that i can name from the top of my head

Seraphim sans, Insans, Dusttrust, He who shall not be named because he's from an 18+ au, Swapswap (yes. that exists), Storyshift, Inverted Fate (very good au i suggest checking it out), Negatale, Oceantale, Template, Pale, Mafiafell, Farmtale

my phone is at 9% y'all are spared from me going on

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 12: What Happens in Alleyways

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Sorry it's a lil short, it's more of a transition chapter to actually jumping into this case and Reader's now even more confusing "relationship" with Hotch. Things get kinkier and angrier and more explicit from here, but I'll do my best to tag stuff. Thanks for your patience as always, guys, especially amidst the dumpster fire that is current events right now <3 Your reblogs and tags slay me and I love it.

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Turns out, the world doesn't stop on its axis just because you had sex with your boss. You’re unsure whether or not that’s a good thing.

Words: 1,882

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Violence, dark themes, explicit sexual content. More specific warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You awoke to the dim light of the dawn, rain gently pattering on the windows, and the blaring sound of Hotch’s ringtone three feet from your face.

“Jesus christ, old man,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open, “turn your hearing aids up.”

Already sitting up in bed, he paused with the phone halfway to his ear.

Shit. You were being too casual - waking up in his bed, joking with him. Acting like you belonged there. You didn’t know how he felt about what happened, for all you knew he regretted every second and-

“You’re paying for that later,” he smiled before answering the call.

The playful threat filled you with relief before it made your stomach flip, and the memories of last night came flooding back. His body, his eyes, his hands all burned inside your eyelids as if you’d been staring directly at the sun. You’d never been in this situation before - waking up next to someone you’d spent the night with and desperately hoping it was the first time rather than the last. But you’d also never felt your body sing with the white-hot pleasure it did when it was touched by the seemingly unattainable man who did so last night, so. There was that.

The low rumble of his voice brought you back to the present, and you looked up at his face to find it was twisted up in concentration, resignation, and something else.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, standing up swiftly and pulling his work clothes on with practiced speed. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

He shoved his phone in his suit pocket and looked at you, still tangled up in his sheets.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said, terse. “There’s a body in the alley outside the building.”

“Outside this building?”

“Yes,” he responded, “and there’s a note.”

As he swept out the door, leaving you reeling, you realized what the other expression on his face was. Fear.

***

Hotch had gotten ready and exited the apartment before you had even processed the situation, and your mind was racing a mile a minute as you flung yourself out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. The logical assumption, of course, was that the stalker had left the body. People didn’t just end up dead in alleyways in this part of town, and certainly not in the middle of a rainstorm mere floors from where the BAU Unit Chief slept - not without a reason.

You threw on your coat and boots, forgoing contacts and makeup in favor of your glasses and a hat to cover the tangled mess last night’s tryst had made of your hair. Without even pausing to look in a mirror, you scurried down the stairwell and exited the lobby into the cold October wind.

It was easy to tell which alley the body occupied - there were an excess of thirty people milling in and out of the space to the right of the building. Crime scene investigators, policemen, and other personnel talked in hushed voices. You spotted a clearing in the sea of people and knew that’s where the victim would be, given a wide berth per Hotch’s instruction.

The team hung out at the edge of the circle watching Reid, who was kneeling in front of the body slumped against the side of the apartment building. Moving closer, you could tell he was in the middle of one of his spiels, gesturing wildly while the everyone nodded along. You joined the group that had formed around him and caught the middle of what seemed to be a hypothesis about victimology.

“ -no patterns, obviously, but if we assume similar characteristics would be present in all his victims, it’s hard to discern what statement he could be making. Positing a male in his mid-to-late twenties is statistically most likely, but stalkers of this age group also frequently have some sort of sexual motivation, and if the autopsy is consistent with what we can observe now,” he gestured to the body, “I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Throughout his speech, you’d been scrutinizing the victim - a brunette women who looked to be no older than 20, arranged in a half-sitting position against the wall behind her. There was no blood anywhere you could see, in fact, she barely looked dead at all, likely thanks to the below-freezing temperatures last night that had put a pause on the early stages of decomposition. Pinned to her shirt was a white envelope that bore an ominous message in bold, black ink:

“For my friends at the BAU.”

Not hard to guess who had killed this woman.

“Can you determine cause of death, Spence?” Prentiss asked, her arms folded.

“I’m not sure, but if I had to guess…” he used his pen to push the victim’s hair to the side, exposing a neck mottled with stark blue bruises. 

“Anger, then,” you offered, speaking to the psychological drivers behind strangulation, “but I doubt we’ll find any sign of sexual assault. The unsub made it clear that his disdain is directed towards us; it’s not likely that would extend to his victim.”

The rest of the team nodded in thought, but Hotch looked at you in surprise, as if just noticing your presence. As his eyes glued on yours, his face changed, and he grabbed your arm in an unpleasantly tight grip.

“Open the note. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unaware of his boss’ sudden change in demeanor and the vice on your elbow, Morgan gloved up and reached for the envelope. Hotch, meanwhile, unceremoniously dragged you down the alleyway and around to the deserted back side of the building.

“What the hell?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip.

“Did you fail to look in a mirror before you came down here?” Hotch’s narrowed stare betrayed nothing but contempt, and you scrambled to determine the implication of his question.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to take a shower before looking at the dead body? I did the best I could, it seemed urgent -”

“No,” he snapped, “I’m referring to the fact that your neck looks worse off than our victim’s does.”

You processed his words for a moment before the implication hit you.

“Are you talking about the hickies?! Christ, Hotch, I’ll get a scarf then. Just give me a second!”

“Please do. I’d like my agents to appear professional, not like they’re college kids coming off a one night stand.”

His words halted your stomp back into the building, and you turned back, furious.

“You put them there! How is this my fault?”

“I didn’t think I would have to be this explicit about the fact that I don’t want the fact that we had sex last night broadcast to everyone at the crime scene.”

You gaped at him in disbelief.

“Are you embarrassed or something? I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but you don’t need to lash out at me like this -”

“I’m not lashing out,” he interrupted, “I’m informing you of my expectations for my agents. Is there a problem?”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to smack that perfectly raised eyebrow and controlled expression right off his face. But he was boxing you in - speaking to you as your boss and not the man you slept with last night, and as much as you hated him for it, your sense of self-preservation won out.

“There’s no problem,” you mumbled, unable to make eye contact as you slipped past him and around the building.

You made it halfway up the stairwell before the tears started flowing. Had you really thought sleeping with him was going to change something? That he was going to ask you to be his fucking girlfriend, like he wasn’t the chief of your unit and you weren’t a twenty-something intern? For all you knew, he did this all the time. His level of skill in the area certainly made it seem like he did.

That wasn’t true, though, you knew it. He may not reveal much, but you could tell it had been a fraught decision to let your relationship develop the way it had. Perhaps even a decision he regretted now - and it certainly seemed so, given his behavior.

Wiping tears on your sleeve, you fumbled with the spare key he’d given you to his apartment and walked in. You glanced in the mirror by the entrance and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. Hotch wasn’t exaggerating when he likened the marks to strangulation - indigo smudges, still peppered with the angry red of burst capillaries, circled your throat.

It was a juvenile, possessive, ridiculous display, and Hotch was absolutely right to label it unprofessional. And yet, the thought that you’d walked onto the scene bearing the marks he’d given you filled you with a thrill so intense you had to brace yourself against the entryway table and clamp your legs together.

Breathe. There’s still a fucking murder scene downstairs.

You steadied yourself and headed for your duffel bag, where you’d thankfully packed a scarf in preparation for the cold snap that was predicted to hit the state this week. Midway through unzipping your bag, though, your eyes landed on his dresser and the devil sitting on your shoulder, buzzing with a deadly combination of anger and arousal, whispered a terrible, reckless idea in your ear.

***

You practically skipped downstairs to rejoin the team, who appeared to be engaged in a lively debate about the contents of the envelope Morgan was holding. After gloving up, you reached out a hand towards him.

“Can I read it?”

He handed it over, distracted by another stream of consciousness from Reid. Hotch took note of your return and glanced in your direction before turning back to the conversation.

You pretended to read the note and waited for him to notice.

You waited all of three seconds.

He whipped his head back so comically fast you struggled to suppress a snort, and you knew exactly what he was looking at. A midnight blue cashmere scarf, nicked from his dresser and wrapped artfully around your neck to cover the bruises, just like he’d asked. The first compliment you’d ever paid him was in regards to this scarf; tentatively whispered when he’d worn it to a chilly 2 am crime scene. He’d accepted the compliment passively, but the optimistic part of you had noted that he seemed to wear it much more frequently after that.

You weren’t entirely sure what statement you were intending to make by wearing it, but his reaction told you you’d certainly succeeded at provoking something.

Morgan reached back out for the note you were still pretending to read and dropped it in an evidence bag. If he noticed Hotch steaming from the ears next to you, he didn’t say so.

“They’re ready to pack everything up and head back to the lab. Let’s meet ‘em there?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative and headed back to the SUVs.

“You riding with me?” Morgan asked, nudging your ribs with an elbow.

“No,” Hotch answered for you, an unseen hand suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “She’s not.”

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[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 17*

WHOO, y'all I really didn't think I had a lot left in me and then this just came pouring out. Wow. So yeah after about 3 hours and some crying and a breakdown later, here's another chapter. Definitely gonna get to 20. Oh yeah.

Warning: ANGST. SO MUCH ANGST. This one kinda got too close to home, but I made it that way so I have no one to blame but myself. If it hits close to home for you as well, I'm so sorry. Also if you're sensitive to....idk I guess I'll just say "drug use"? Use caution when reading.

Part 16

Part 18

Tag List

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@objection-argumentative

-------

That Monday you went to class for the first time since you had been abducted. You slunk into class and sat in the back trying to remain unnoticed, but everyone instantly turned to you.

"Oh my god Y/N! Are you ok?!" One student asked you.

"How scary was it?" Another one asked.

"Was Nevada good in bed?" One girl asked you, causing three girls to hit her and shoo her away.

"I um...I…" you tried to breathe, but the questions and chatter kept coming. It was too much for you to handle. You grabbed your stuff and ran out of the classroom, down the hall.

"Hey sweetie are you ok--?" A young Hispanic girl asked you. It took you back to when Gabi had befriended you. You backed away from her and ran out of the building into the quad. You were hyperventilating, you could barely see in front of you. You collapsed onto the grass, crying. You hit your speed dial to call Chloe.

“Hello?”

“Ch-Chloe, I--” You could barely breathe, you were crying so hard. People were starting to stare, you had to get control of yourself.

“Y/N? Oh my god babe are you ok? What happened?”

“I...I need you…” You gasped, trying to get up and duck behind a building where no one could stare at you.

“Oh, oh honey I’m across town right now. Otherwise you know I’d come right down there,” She apologized. “Why don’t you call--”

“I can’t call Rafael,” You cut her off. “I don’t want him to know how fucked up I still am about all of this, we just started to get back to normal,”

“...Um okay, well I don’t know what you want me to--”

“Forget it, I’ll be fine,” You hung up the phone before she could say anything else. You felt bad for being so short with her, but you weren’t exactly yourself right now.

You really didn’t want to have to use Rafael as your crutch, your lifejacket. He had his own life, his own career. He didn’t have time to babysit you. You took several deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. You glanced around the corner, fewer people were in the quad now. You calmed yourself down enough to walk over and sit under a tree, breathing in the spring air.

You were just starting to calm down when your phone rang: RAFAEL CALLING.

Dammit Chloe…You reluctantly answered the phone with a fake chipper voice. “Hey baby!”

“Hola mi amor, Como estas?”

“I’m fine, Raffi…”

“Are you sure? Because Chloe just called me and--”

“She shouldn’t have called you,” You grumbled.

“Y/N, look baby if you’re in distress--”

“I’m not in distress, Rafael. I’m fine,”

“Are you--”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m sorry Chloe called you. I’ll see you at home,” You hung up the phone abruptly. You instantly felt guilty; why were you taking it out on him? He was just trying to help. But you didn’t want him worrying about you, that was the whole point. You just wanted to forget about everything for a while. You laid down under the tree and closed your eyes, enjoying the sunshine on your face.

-------

Meanwhile

Rafael really didn’t want to betray your trust, but he didn’t know what else to do at this point. You clearly needed outside help and you refused to let him give it to you, so he felt like he had no choice. He went down to the precinct and into Olivia’s office.

“Rafa,” Olivia stood up as he walked in.

“Hey Liv,” He nodded, giving her a small hug. She walked back around her desk as he took a seat.

“What’s up?”

“It’s….Y/N,”

“She’s having trouble dealing with her trauma, isn’t she?”

“...Yes,” He nodded sadly. “And she won’t talk to me. She won’t let me talk to her about it because she doesn’t want me to think of her as a ‘victim’ and--”

“Well of course not Rafael, you’re her--” She paused. “Are you two still engaged?”

“YES, Olivia,” He sternly replied. “We’re still engaged,”

“Okay, sorry,” She bit her lip. “Anyway, of course she’s not going to want to discuss her trauma with you, you’re her loved one. Would you want her to see you as a victim?”

“...No,” He shook his head. “But she needs to talk to someone,”

“Are you suggesting I talk to her?” Olivia half laughed. “Because that’s probably worse than talking to you--”

“Why? She won’t feel ashamed telling you things, she doesn’t care what you think of her,”

“Well, gee thanks,”

“You know what I mean,”

“Yeah I do. She doesn’t like me,” Olivia pointed out. “Which means she won’t be as open to me, you know that,”

“Well, I mean if any of the other squad members come to her she’s just going to be upset more and more people know about her, and I just thought---” He sighed and held his head in hands. “I just-- I don’t know what to do, Liv,”

Olivia came around her desk again and put a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “...I’ll try, if you really want me to,”

He looked up and gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Liv,”

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

That Night

You had come back to Rafael’s after your little meltdown. While you were at school, a very kind gentleman found you lying under the tree and noticed you needed a bit of shall we say, a chill pill. You had gladly taken a few and popped them on the way home, and you were currently sleeping it off in the front of the TV when Rafael came home, and he wasn’t alone.

“Y/N….Baby?” He called, but there was no answer. He gave Liv a worried look as he dashed through your living room, to find you unconscious on the couch while Netflix was asking “ARE YOU STILL THERE?”

“Oh my god, Y/N! Baby, baby are you okay? Y/N, wake up!” Rafael violently shook you as Olivia started to call for a bus. She stopped dialing when you groggily awoke, stroking Rafael’s face with a sleepy smile.

“Heyyy, baby--” You kissed him deeply.

“Are you--- are you high, right now?” He looked at you horrified.

“What? No! No….maybe a little bit,” You bit your lip trying not to giggle at his very serious face.

“God dammit-- Y/N, carino-- why--?”

“Oh my GOD,” You suddenly noticed Olivia standing behind him. “What is she doing here?”

“She came to--”

“Oh my god, you told her to come here didn’t you? You’re kicking me out, aren’t you? For HER?”

“What? No! Jesus Christ, Y/N what exactly did you take--”

“Oh yeah, let me just tell the ginger snap here what drugs I’m on, and then she can throw me in jail and have you all to herself!”

“What the-- alright that’s it, you with me,” He grabbed your arm and started dragging you to his room. “I’m sorry about this Liv,” He looked at her apologetically.

“Oh yeah, sorry Olivia, wouldn’t want to interrupt your romantic evening with my fiancée,” You mocked, making Rafael walk faster. He pulled you into the room but you were so out of it you flopped onto the bed like a rag doll.

“Jesus-- Okay seriously baby, you need to tell me what you took,”

“No! It was nothing, it was just something to calm me down, it’s not a big deal--”

“It IS a big deal!” He yelled angrily. “Look at you! You can barely sit up!”

“I’m fine! See?” You sat up for about 10 seconds before falling back down on the bed again. You started giggling uncontrollably until you saw Rafael’s face. He wasn’t angry anymore he was...sad? Scared? His eyes were filled with tears, his hand was over his mouth.

“....What is happening right now?” You blinked several times, trying to clear your mind. Seeing Rafael in distress suddenly made being high not so fun anymore.

“...You know this is how I had to see my dad every day when I was a kid,” He said through choked back tears. “You know how traumatic it is to see you like this Y/N I don’t know why--”

“What?” You suddenly sat up quickly, holding on to the edge of the bed to keep you upright. “I...no, you said he used to beat--”

“You think he was SOBER while doing that?!” Rafael yelled louder now, and became more angry.

“...No, I guess not--” You hung your head down, mostly because it was difficult to keep it upright.

“I...I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, I just can’t,” He threw his hands up and walked towards the door.

“Rafa I--”

“Just sleep it off, we’ll talk later,” He snarled and slammed the door.

Almost immediately you burst into tears; how could you have done this to him? You hadn’t really thought about his whole dad situation, but now that he said it out loud it made perfect sense.

You just wanted to feel better, without causing him grief. And instead you had caused him heartache and pain. It made you hate yourself more than you already did.

And to top it off, Olivia was now out there with him in the living room, probably comforting him. Holding him while he cried about how you hurt him. You were driving him right back into her arms, no potions needed. You wanted so badly to just go in there and tell her to get the fuck away from your man, but you still couldn’t stand. You just laid there and cried until you fell asleep.

------

Hours later, you woke up to a dark room once again. It was 10:30. How long had you been out? You cautiously opened the door, but the living room was dark. Rafael wasn’t there?

“...Baby?” You called through the apartment to make sure, but sure enough there was no answer. You flipped on the light to see a note with your name on it. Oh god.

“No, no no no no--” You raced over and opened the paper, praying to God it wouldn’t say what you thought it would.

“Y/N-- Went out to clear my head, think about things. There’s food in the fridge I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be back?” You read out loud. When? Tonight? Tomorrow? A week from now? You started to grab your phone to call him, but before you could the door swung open and Rafael came sneaking in-- with Olivia.

“Oh my, Oh my god--” You wanted to vomit right there. They were both clearly a little tipsy and giggling, but when they saw you they straightened up quickly.

“Hey baby, you’re up,” He smiled sweetly, walking over and kissing your cheek.

“Oh so this is what we’re doing now, is it? I get high and upset you, so you go and get drunk to upset me?”

“What? No, I just-- we were just--” He looked to Liv.

“Y/N listen, we were just--” Olivia tried to explain.

“Oh I think you were JUST LEAVING, bitch,” You growled, starting to charge her but Rafael grabbed your arm.

“HEY, leave Liv alone,” He told you sternly, almost glaring at you. You had been here before, this was too familiar. You looked at him in surprise, then turned to Olivia with anger.

“...You did it again, didn’t you?” Hot tears stung your eyes as you swiped your arm from Rafael’s grasp.

“Did what?” Olivia asked, oblivious.

“You dosed him again, DIDN’T YOU?!” You started to charge her again as you screamed, but this time Rafael grabbed you by your waist.

“Y/N! Nobody fucking dosed me, you wanna talk about dosing? Let’s talk about how I found you earlier,” He barked.

“That was completely different--” You started to defend yourself.

“Why? Because you wanted to feel better?” He asked you angrily. “Because I went out and did the same thing, and just because you’re insecure about Liv and I, suddenly she has me under a spell?”

“This isn’t you,” You shook your head with tears rolling down your cheeks. “It just isn’t, I know it’s not,” You looked to Olivia, who still retained her confused look.

“Olivia, can you--?” Rafael looked at her while nodding at the door.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll-- talk to you later,” She gave a little nervous wave before walking out and closing the door behind her.

------

“See? Are you happy now?” He threw up his hands. “I didn’t go after her like a little love spelled puppy, Y/N,”

“You don’t have to mock me--”

“I told you I wasn’t under anything! You think that just because I’m mad at you, suddenly I must be under some kind of spell? Because, what? Because I can’t be mad at you, because you’re ‘going through something’? What about me?! What about what you’re putting me through?!”

“I’m trying NOT TO!!!!!!” You screamed.

“Yeah well you’re doing a hell of a job,” He laughed sarcastically, walking through the living room to his room.

“Rafael, Rafa!” You chased after him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“To what, Y/N? To get high in the middle of the day on god knows what? Or did you not mean to get caught?” He sneered as he started to get undressed.

“I just wanted to feel better!!” You stomped your foot.

“I don’t make you feel better? You need drugs for that?!” Tears came to his eyes. He couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“No!!! I just--” You paused, trying not to cry. “I just don’t want our relationship to be you constantly comforting me, or-- or taking care of me, like I’m a child!”

“Yeah well you’re sure as hell acting like one,” He tossed off his pants and dress shirt and stomped into his bathroom to get a t-shirt to wear with his boxers.

“....Why are you putting clothes on to sleep?” You asked him cautiously; you both usually slept naked in each other’s arms all night.

“Because I’m sleeping in the guest room, you can have the bed,” He pushed past you and out the door heading down the hallway to the guest room.

“No, no no no no Rafael don’t,” You quickly trailed him, grabbing his hand and making him face you.

“Why? I don’t make you feel better, why don’t you sleep with your pills?” He narrowed his eyes at you as he pulled away from you and started to walk away again.

“.....Please….” You softly whimpered, making him stop in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, he just looked at the ground and sighed.

“...Please don’t leave me alone,” You sounded like a little girl scared of the dark, but you didn’t care.

You couldn’t pretend that you didn’t need him anymore, because the truth is you did. You needed him by you every second of every day, you felt absolutely helpless without him. And you hated it. But you couldn’t hide it anymore.

After a long pause, Rafael turned back to face you, tears were streaming down your face. You looked so small and pitiful, he instantly regretted yelling at you like he had. He walked back slowly towards you, taking you in his arms and rubbing your back.

“I’m never going to leave you alone, carino,” He whispered as you sobbed into his chest. “I promise you,”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “I’m so sorry about today. I just--”

“I know,” He nodded as he walked you back into his room and sat you on the bed as you pulled your clothes off. He took off his clothes and crawled into bed next to you, listening to your cries die down.

“I’m sorry I went out with Olivia, mi amor,” He apologized into your ear as he spooned you. “I knew how much that would hurt you and I did it anyway,”

“...It’s fine,” You nodded, even though you weren’t sure it was. But, you knew on some level that being high in front of Rafael would upset him and you did it anyway, so you couldn’t really hold onto it.

“....You really do need someone to talk to though, baby. Even if it’s not me,” He whispered, kissing the back of your neck gently. “Please?”

“Okay,” You nodded as you turned to face him. “I’ll do anything you want me to Rafa,”

“I want you to do it for you,” He pressed his forehead against yours.

“I don’t care about me, I care about you!” You shook your head.

“And I care about-- see this is what I’m talking about, baby,” He sighed. “You have to stop-- punishing yourself, or hating yourself, for whatever happened. We’re never going to be able to move on if you don’t,”

“....Okay,”

“Okay you’ll do it?”

“...I’ll try,”

“Okay,” He kissed you gently. “That’s all I’m asking,”

“....I flushed the rest of the pills,” You told him softly, making him smile for the first time that night.

“Thank you, baby,” He kissed you again.

“And I don’t care if you think that you’re--- being a burden, or needy, or some kind of anchor because you need me to feel safe. I want you to feel safe, all the time. And I WANT to be the one who makes you feel safe. Not drugs, not alcohol, not anybody else. Me. And if I need to be by your side 24/7 for the time being, then that’s what I’ll do,”

“What? Rafa come on--” You started to protest.

“No, I’m serious,” He took your hands. “I made a commitment to you, and I’m damn sure going to keep it. I will protect you from now until the end of our lives. So, I’ll call Morgan tomorrow and tell her that until further notice, unless I’m in court I’ll be working from home, okay?”

“I---I can’t ask you to do that--”

“You’re not asking me, carino. I’m offering-- No, I’m telling you, that’s what I’m doing,”

“....Okay,” You nodded with a small smile, snuggling closer into his chest as he pulled you tighter.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in the world,” He whispered to the top of your head as you fell asleep on his chest.

“I love you too Rafael,” You cooed as you drifted off to sleep.

[kidmetsu-no-yaiba]

What They Do When You’re Having A ‘Split’ And Become Angry  

This includes: Tsukishima, Kuroo, Bokuto, Kita, Suga, Ennoshita, Ushijima

This is just how I perceive them as what they would do for a best friend/romantic partner that experiences BPD anger in a similar way as I do. Also I'm off my stabilizers haha..ha.

Also none of these are meant to be mean about the characters I literally chose my faves for this.

Uh TW for bpd I guess?

Gender Neutral reader bay bee

Tsukishima (Not the trigger):

Doesn’t even recognize it at first, thinks its just a normal bad day from work

After, like, 30 minutes of you just sitting there and glaring at your phone without talking or even changing your expression he starts to get a clue.

Goes about his normal chores that upset you, but he plays your “Calming” playlist out loud on his phone just loud enough for you to hear

If he’s exhausted every chore and you still haven’t talked, he purposefully looks for funny or interesting news articles about stuff you like and reads the headlines out to you to get you to look at him or talk

Once you start at least looking at him, hopefully talking too, begins trying to coax out what triggered you

Ignores if you make any outright mean or just passive aggressive comments towards him instead of answering but will get aggressive in return

If he manages to get What Happened out of you he immediately calls you an idiot. Regardless of what it is. Is a mean comforter.

“Getting mad over your best friend talking on the phone too long while you’re hanging out isn’t an excuse to be mean”

“You’re stupid if you think it’s your fault that your friends aren’t paying attention to you, not everything is about you.”

It hurts but, it works even if sometimes it feels like he’s going a Bit Too Far

Will watch comforting videos or shows with you if it calms you down but that's about it. Very big on “You’re an adult and I’m not your psychiatrist, figure it out yourself.”

Kuroo (Is the trigger):

Instantly recognizes the Shut Down while teasing you, when you stop responding, your face is blank except for your down turned eyes.

‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’ is his immediate thought

“Y/N you know I didn’t mean that right? We were just playing, I’m sorry!” “Don’t you have a proposal to finish.”

Immediate shoulder drop. Is also upset now but decides to wait a little bit before trying to calm you.

After 30min or so of you hiding under your blanket he decides it’s time to try and pull you out of your head.

Cooks your most aromatic favorite food so the smell wafts into your room

Blasts your comfort playlist on a speaker and loudly sings along to it

When you still don’t come out when the food is done, sits outside the door saying “oh FUCK this shit is BUSSIN’” comically loud, overexaggerates your favorite things about it outloud.

When you eventually give in, just to get some food, he corners you with his body

“What about what I said upset you?” As a genuine question, not a mean one

After you explain, he lets you eat and offers a sincere apology when you finish

Offers to draw a bath with your favorite scent if it’ll help you. It does.

Bokuto (Is the trigger):

You came home and Bokuto had the tv up high while watching tiktoks and listening to music. After a moment the tea kettle went off. Before turning it off he realized you had walked in and bounded over to you. There were Too Many Noises.

He tried to talk over the noise but realized your eyes were boring into his and you had The Look

Also a ‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’

Rushes to take the kettle off the heat and turn off his phone before checking on you only to see you’ve already gone in and shut the bedroom door. You didn’t even take your shoes off..

Big pouty, sulky fool. Mopes around for a bit after turning off all the noise in the house.

Eventually looks for other things that upset you and finds that the house is, kind of a mess actually. Decides to clean as quietly as possible.

Does all of your least favorite chores first incase you re-emerge from the bedroom too soon

When everything seems to be done he opens your door and finds you tucked into bed and scrolling on your phone, very quiet music playing from it.

It was only 5pm but he took off his street clothes and climbed into bed as well. 

Absolutely gets up behind you and grabs you around your waist and snuggles in without saying anything even though he wants to

When you finally feel comfortable you look over your shoulder to see Bokutos already fallen asleep. Idiot. 

You order takeout for when he wakes up because, even though he tried his hardest to be quiet, you could hear him washing the dishes and didn’t want to ruin the work he did for you

Kita (Not the trigger):

Very straightforward the second he realizes you are Not Good

"Y/N if you tell me what's wrong it'll end quicker" 

When you don't even look at him he still continues talking "We both know you hate when you're like this. It'll make you feel better if you just talk to me even if you don't want to."

Is fairly stern when talking to you at the beginning. Not mean but just very much like 'this is going to get done whether or not you cooperate.'

If you don't cooperate then he begins to ignore you until you snap and eventually scream and air out everything that's wrong and what triggered you. 

Goes through everything you said with you and gives you an objective perspective although it basically boils down to "I know you can't help it but your ego is hurting you. Not Everything Is About You."

Once your conversation on that is over he asks if you want him to watch tiktok or listen to music or something with you

 Suga (Is the trigger):

He hadn’t meant to ignore you all day. He’d woken up before you and been so busy at work all day he didn’t get a chance to text. It was the club he advised’s meeting day and it was dragging on longer than usual, he hadn’t texted anyone all day to be fair

When he finally comes home he’s confused as to why you’re tucked in on the couch

“Hey Y/N you tired? Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk today there was a lot of bureaucratic shit going on and then the club president decided we were all going to stay until the end of the activity. Kids am I right?” He laughs and smiles towards you but you continue to ignore him

After some physical encouragement, poking and whatnot, it dawned on him that you are Probably Going Through It

Jesus Christ

Immediately decides he is not having it and moves your legs off the couch so he can sit next you

“Y/N I looovvveeee youuuuu~~~” He says as he pulls you to him by the shoulders “I love you I love you I love youuu” 

Just babbles honestly, goes on and on about how he didn’t mean to ignore you and how he was honestly busy but he’s here now

And like yeah, he is here now so eventually you level out and let yourself be coddled for a bit longer

Makes pinky promises that he promises to text you when he’s busy or going to be running late

Also runs you a nice bath just in case

Ennoshita (Not the trigger):

Knows what's going on because he’s been watching you stare at the tv for about 20 minutes but, the tv is off. 

Is objective with his words like Kita but with more emotional appeal

“Y/N I know you’re in the middle of something but when you’re ready, I’ll be ready to listen to you,”

If, after a while, you don’t make any effort to talk to him he tries to point you in a better direction than staring at walls and moping around

“You don’t have to talk to me but I found a tiktok I think you’d enjoy” or “You know you haven’t tried that new nail polish you bought a bit ago” 

Is okay with just letting you figure it out on your own so you can apply the stuff you’ve worked on with your psychiatrist but will feel a little guilty if he doesn’t say anything at all

Will do anything that you need to get done but aren’t because of your episode like dishes or tidying your room

Ushijima (Not the trigger):

First of all, calls your episodes “tantrums”

Literally has no clue when you’re in an episode unless you tell him, he is not very bright

If you do tell him that you’re having issues he defaults to trying to use physical affection against whatever it is that you’re feeling

May or may not make you angrier by doing that

Although he wasn’t the original trigger, him being so dense might override it tbh

Like you love him but oh my god oh my god oh my god how have you survived this long 

Eventually decides “I do not know how to deal with this” and just leaves. He goes to the store and gets the shopping done for the next 2 weeks and gets some cool looking snacks. 

Thinks ‘well I’m already out, I might as well get the car washed’ after, turns into ‘Oh Y/N needed to get their new prescription too..’ ‘I think I remember a discussion about their package getting stuck at the post office..’

Literally accidentally does every single errand that needed to be done for the next month because he didn’t want to go home and upset you more

When he finally comes back home with 50lbs worth of shit from errands you’re like ????? because how did he know that you were stressed about all the house stuff that needed to be done????? 

It’s not an instant mood changer but you definitely go from seemingly uncontrollable rage to ‘Okay I was being a bit much’ but as you watch him prep veggies before storing them away the way you usually do it, you level out

He is unaware you’ve levelled out so he tries to remember the coping skills you said you talked about with your psychiatrist and you are deeply confused when he asks you to open your palm and places an ice cube in it

When you realize what’s going on you laugh and tell him you’re okay and apologize for how you were being earlier and explain what triggered you

He gives you the cool looking snacks

[ohpsshaw]

~DFS Christmas Special~

No desire to draw lately, so I’ve been doing little prose sketches instead.

Just in time for December, here’s what turned out to be Uncle Jack taking Al Christmas shopping. This would be circa 199X B.G. (Before Glenn), making Al in his early 20s.

(Watch out if you have high blood sugar, cos this gets KINDA SACCHARINE.)

It had finally stopped snowing, thank goodness. The fresh white blanket reflected crisp light in through the windows, making him feel chilled inside. Luckily Pop was a comfort creature who kept a stock of hot chocolate mix in the pantry. Al never seemed to reach for it back at his apartment, but something about visiting home in the winter months made a warm mug feel as essential as a limb.

Uncle Jack had asked Al to accompany him for some holiday shopping later, and a chocolate briquette would be good to have heating his gut. He took it to the couch in the living room. Someone had dug up the old photo books and left them on the coffee table a few days ago. Flipping through, he noticed that half the pages were completely empty— photography had never been a popular concept in the Czar household. The preserved moments were of family trips and landmarks, rambunctious sepia-washed office parties, Al’s school portraits. Rarer was anything taken inside the house. One shot of himself at four or five years old, standing on the yellow-sunlit staircase and showing the camera a toy car, surfaced a memory of being coached to keep his mouth closed so as not to alarm a 1-hour photo developer. Thinking on it, it may have been more than coincidence that most of these were instant Polaroids.

Through the window, he heard the muffled sound of a car door, then: “What the fuck are you doing!?” Hey, Pop’s home. Al pulled back the curtain to watch the drama unfolding at the end of the driveway, where Uncle Jack had been chipping at the wall of powder the afternoon snowplow had left. Xav had just returned from morning errands and parked in the street, storming over the slush to stop his brother from working.

Cold air blasted from the foyer. Snow crunched as Xav shook out the snow shovel behind him. “Why was he doing this by himself? Did you become a quadriplegic when I wasn’t looking?”

Al flipped through the Rolodex in his head for the answer that would earn him the least amount of grief. He shrugged, as if confused by the absurdity of the question. “He didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t ask, Max.” Jack took the shovel back. “But you’re right, I should have. Reckon it was my vanity what did me in— I can’t stand to be upstaged by some young buck doing the same job in half the time.” He winked at his nephew. “Well, three-quarters.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Xav spat, the corners of his mouth curling up against his will. “You both know I’m not being unreasonable. You’re not a guest, Alan Henry. As far as I’m concerned, you still live here. You earn your keep during the day, and MAYBE I’ll consider putting on my robe and letting you suckle dinner from my left tit.”

Al choked on his hot chocolate.

“Shit. Careful on the carpet. I’ll get you a paper towel.” Xav left for the kitchen, grumble-exorcising demons as he walked. “If Papa caught one of us sitting on our ass while the other did chores...”

Why did Pop have to save his best lines for when people were eating? Bent over and lapping chocolate out of the crevices of his palm, Al thought he saw a piece of marshmallow among the bubbles. Heh... hope that didn’t come out of his nose.

“You still need me to shovel?” he asked Jack.

“Son, I would be honored,” Jack nodded, holding the shovel on the doormat like a knight leaning on an orange sword. “Gitcher boots on and you can finish the job before we head out. I’ll make sure your Pop watches the show from inside.”

Xav returned with the towels and a smirk. “Talking shit about me, Jack?”

“I was just sayin’ how you’ll hate to see us go, but you’ll love to watch us walk away.”

“Got that fucking right.” Al cleaned his face while Xav dabbed each of his fingers individually. An oddly tender gesture. “What are you two going out for, exactly?”

“Juuust... shoppin’. I need Alan’s opinion on somethin’.”

“Uh-huh.” Secrets being a rare and dangerous thing in this family, there wasn’t much question as to what this was really about. Especially between brothers who were as close as twins. But the holidays were about giving, after all, so Xav seemed to decide to give them the benefit of the doubt. A game is more fun when everybody plays along.

Truthfully, even Al wasn’t sure what they were going to get for his father. A successful family man hitting his sixties doesn’t want for much. By this point, Xav had enough neckties and “#1 Dad” mugs to be buried surrounded by them like a pharaoh. Jack could always steal the show by reaching into his deep D.D.S. pockets or by making a new piece of furniture, but the son was held to no such standards. Xav had simple hobbies, and he seemed to have the house exactly how he wanted it. Was Al too old to make a coupon book, redeemable for hugs and remembering to use a coaster?

Or maybe his gift to Pop could be giving college another shot. Dropping out had caused some... friction, a flint-strikes-wood situation that had led to Al moving out of the house, and eventually out-of-state. He had to admit, the independence felt good. Putting his shoes on the coffee table, not having to tell anyone where he was going... he’d definitely become more promiscuous. No independent murders, though, which was starting to grate on him. He’d realized lately that he had always expected to be allowed to do more, without his father and uncle. Maybe if he did what Pop wanted, things would calm down so he could move back to Michigan and use the cabin. But the idea of sitting in another classroom, taking notes on a subject he didn’t care about, all for the promise of 50 years chained to a desk... It made him want to sleep forever.

When the car pulled up to the mall, Al was not surprised at all by the entrance his uncle had chosen. “Mind if I peek in Sears?” Jack asked, as if wild horses could stop him.

Home improvement and appliance stores were another phenomenon Al only seemed to experience at home. The dusty, unvarnished smell and high ceilings had been a frequent backdrop during his childhood— for Jack, they seemed to be akin to a candy store. He was talented as a carpenter and repairman, and sincerely relished something going wrong with the house if it meant he could pull out his toolkit. He also liked to make things go wrong with human bodies on occasion, but there was a separate box for those tools waiting up at the cabin.

Two steps in the door, and a weary-looking holiday hire hit them up with a canned pitch: “...and I’m happy to help you find whatever’s on your list!“ Aggressive customer service, the bane of the paranoid shopper. Jack was the front line for shaking off overly helpful greeters, which Xav had called “the second-worst thing to come out of the 80s after Iran-Contra.”

“Just lookin’, God willing— I brought my conscience with me to make me behave,” Jack looked to his nephew. “Don’t let me buy a single screw, y’hear?”

“Got it. Bulk purchases only.” That earned Al a shove.

Salesperson successfully deflected, Jack ducked toward his usual corner: the big ticket carpentry goods. When Al caught up, he was running his hand over a table saw. As much as he loved his uncle, Al wasn’t particularly interested in watching him fantasize about cutting wood, or even bone. “You have a project in mind?”

“A bit of a science experiment, next time we play cards,” Jack’s pupils darted along the equipment, still in reverie. “I’ve been readin’ a book about crucifixions, and how they affect the body.”

“Oh, that’s seasonal.”

“‘Course, I won’t be able to try it ‘til next year. You think your Pop would let me pick out a rabbit by April?” Jack chuckled. He was not talking about the Easter bunny. “We can see if she comes back to life after three days.”

Al snorted. “Jesus.”

“Precisely. Y’know, Christ is usually depicted with holes in his hands, but in actuality, the Romans would have put the nails through his wrists.” Jack picked up Al’s arm to demonstrate, dancing fingers across his palm. “Ain’t much to take hold of in here. It’s too fragile and open-ended. But if you move up the arm,”— he pressed his thumb into the straightened portion of Al’s median nerve— “You can hook the radius and the ulna. Much better support.” Jack’s eyes flickered with glee. “And it hurts like a bitch!”

“Wait, are you going to go first, or last?” Playing cards was usually a once-a-year affair, and the night Al looked forward to the most. If Jack snuffed her out before he had his turn...

“Oh, don’t worry, son. Done right, she could last for days.” Not that she would, since Pop would probably have something to say about that. “I just want to try, er... doin’ as the Romans do. And who knows, maybe you’ll like it. Every bachelor eventually needs to have a girl nailed down!”

They cackled and then shushed each other, wincing like sneaky little boys at the idea that someone would hear them over the store’s ambient shopping muzak. They really shouldn’t talk like this in public, even with code words and euphemisms. Though over the years they’d learned that people can be experts at ignoring what’s right under their noses. Certainly none of the men had ever overheard anyone else planning a murder.

“It’s just a pipe dream, I’m still in the plannin’ stages,” Jack added. “Ain’t even got the lumber yet. So if you wanna put some packages under the tree that are, say, 4-by-6 and 72 inches long... I promise to be shocked when I unwrap ‘em.”

Al’s attention shifted over his uncle’s shoulder, to a shelf of handheld orbital sanders. Al was more of a hands-on kind of guy— he still got a little queasy thinking about Jack’s experiment to see which sandpaper grit was the best at removing skin.

“So what was it you wanted me to look at? I don’t think Pop needs a crucifix for Christmas.”

“Oh, I’m just killin’ time before our appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“At the photo studio. I want you to give your Pop a picture.”

“...of us?”

“Naw, just you.”

Al loved that. “Yeah, that’d be hilarious. Merry Christmas, Pop, I got you me!”

A pause. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“As a heart attack, son. It’s just what he needs.”

“Do you have, I don’t know, a backup plan?” Al faltered. “Something less self-centered? I’m not exactly his favorite person right now. He kind of thinks I’m a failure.”

“Alan, you are not a failure. You are...” Jack patted his nephew’s cheek. “An unbroken mustang who has not yet found his ranch. And your father is just tryna keep you from bein’ sold as horse meat.” He slid them into a far aisle for more privacy. “He worries about you a lot, and he misses you somethin’ fierce.”

Al chewed his cheek. “Well, talk to him about showing it sometime.”

“No, son,” Jack took him by the shoulder, looking around to make sure they were alone. “Your father cries. At night when he talks about you, he starts wellin’ up like a waif. He doesn’t need to hear that you know about it, but it’s the God’s honest truth. All he talks about is wantin’ you back home.”

“I think movin’ out has been good for you, and I’m happy you did it. But it wounded him to his core. You’re his heart, kid.”

Al wasn’t sure how he was taking this information, but he knew how he was supposed to. He scrunched his eyes closed and took a deep breath.

“Okay... If you’re completely sure he won’t think it’s stupid.”

“Are you kiddin’? He’ll put it on the nightstand.” Jack grinned. “And if you smile for it real nice, I’ll take you to that steakhouse in the plaza after.”

Al cocked an eyebrow. “You were gonna go there anyway.”

“Yes. Yes, I was. But won’t you enjoy your ribeye that much more knowin’ you’ve earned it?” Mmn, maybe. “Besides... did you have any better ideas?”

⬥ ⬥ ⬥

Come Christmas Day, Xav had unwrapped the waist-up portrait and just said “thank you”— which was worrying because he was usually much more verbose than that— and gone silent in his chair. At least he wasn’t mad. Al looked to Jack, who smiled knowingly and handed him a package to keep the gift exchange going.

Al figured it was because Jack had given him something funny, but then he heard his father breathe in sharply.

“Maudit tabarnak... you fucking assholes,” Xav’s voice sounded high and squeaky, like it was being squeezed through slabs of rock. He ducked his chin into his bedshirt collar to hide his face.

“You, fucking... why’d you have to...” He shook his hand at the framed photo. Oh boy, he really did hate it. The whole idea was idiotic. Al had sat in front of that artfully-mottled green backdrop and squinted for a man with a bow tie and no indoor voice for nothing, except for the sheer discomfort of it. And a ribeye steak with a baked potato.

Xav blinked up at the ceiling and gulped, his Adam’s apple fluctuating grotesquely. Eventually he seemed to find his voice again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having pictures taken, so I could make sure he had his fucking hair combed?” He showed them the photo. “Look at his bangs— they’re all over the fucking place.”

Al had to admit, they did look a little wild. “Aw, shoot. Sorry, Pop,” he laughed.

Jack tutted. “I think it looks nice. Rugged.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to comb your hair either, Jack.” Xav brought the photo back into his lap, looking it over. “Looks like he fought a bear before sitting down. But don’t worry, I still like it. You look handsome, kid. Maybe I can find some space on my nightstand.” Al and Jack exchanged victory grins, and didn’t catch Xav wiping tears from both eyes.

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 10

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count:

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, unprotected sex

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The bathing suit still fit. Eva was glad of it, she hadn’t had time to go out and shop for a new one.  A cherry red halter top paired with high waisted bottoms, she’d purchased it a year or so previous on a whim and only worn it a handful of times.  Being a consultant for the DEA didn’t lend itself to lounging by the water. She threw on a soft cotton cover up, stepped into her sandals, and grabbed the fifth of vodka sitting on her counter before walking over to Steve and Connie’s apartment.

The sun was shining brightly that day, as it did most days. And, like most days, the humidity was high. Eva could feel the heat rising from the asphalt as she crossed the parking lot and made her way down the street. When she got to their door, she shifted the vodka to the crook of her arm and knocked.

The door opened and Steve welcomed her in with a wave of his hand.  He was wearing swim trunks and an unbuttoned short sleeve shirt, his hair wet and slicked back. She shuffled inside, putting the vodka in the freezer and heading out through the back door to a rectangular courtyard. The pool was encircled by a black metal fence about waist high. She spotted Connie standing next to Javier at the grill, setting down a plate of uncooked meat. She caught sight of Eva and smiled wide beneath her shades.

“C’mon,” she yelled, waving her hand wildly, “We have the pool for about four hours—til the sun goes down.”

Eva returned the wave, passing through the gate and over to where a few lounge chairs were situated, towels hanging over the back. Umbrellas provided each lounge with some shade from the sun.

“Okay,” Eva said, motioning to the courtyard, “Someone in housing definitely hates me. My shower barely works and you’ve got a fucking pool.”

Connie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, with a schedule so tight and political it could run for president. It took two months of sending brownies to the landlord just to get a half day booked.”

Eva squinted at her, “You have to book time?”

Nodding, Connie gestured for Eva to sit on the lounge chair opposite her, “I know, right? There are families here who have standing appointments months out.”

Steve, having followed Eva outside, called out, “What Connie isn’t telling you is that I slipped a stack of money into one of the brownie pans last week. Only way we got the permission.”

“Can’t you just...jump in?”

Connie’s eyes went wide, “Oh, Jesus. Saw someone try to do that the first week here. The guards fucking swarmed them, hauled ‘em out. Haven’t seen them since.”

Sounds about right, Eva thought. Everything seemed to be a quid pro quo down here. She’d seen a couple agents pay off their informants only to turn around and expense it to the department. Money could buy literally anything here.

“Let me tell you what happened yesterday at work,” Connie sighed, turning to lay back on the lounge, “I started at the NICU four months ago and I thought I had a handle on it. But, oh no, one of the other nurses has been taking my reports and shredding them. So, now my boss thinks I just don’t turn in my work.”

“No way,” Eva blurted out, scandalized.

“Yes, way,” Connie confirmed, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose, “So, I started making copies and locking them in my desk. But, I found out one of the maintenance guys has been letting her into it and she’s been taking my copies.”

Eva rested her head on her palm, mouth curling, “What’re you going to do about it?”

Connie smirked, “A little Ipicac in her morning coffee.”

Brows hitting her hairline, Eva’s mouth dropped. Connie was a forceful woman, could be outright domineering when she wanted something, but this was shocking behavior for her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Its harmless. Just a little vomiting during the staff meeting.”

“Does she know you did it?” Eva’s voice came out as a whisper, as if she was trying to keep the story secret.

“Nope,” Connie shook her head, blonde hair falling over one shoulder, “I was pretty slick about it.”

“I’m sure,” Eva confirmed. “One question: How is the behavior going to stop if she doesn’t know it was you who did it?”

Connie shrugged, “Every time one of my copies goes missing, I’ll do it again. She’ll get the picture eventually. I also had Steve get me a false bottom for my desk. I’ll have a third copy waiting, just in case.”

The smell of meat wafted over, a welcome change from the chlorine. Eva glanced at Javier and Steve, both of them staring at the grill intently. Javier was fidgeting with a metal spatula, forearm wiping at his brow.

“Is that a guy thing? Standing by the grill and watching food cook?”

Even though Eva couldn’t see Connie’s eyes behind her shades, she could tell that the other woman was rolling them, “I guess. Every man I know does it.”

“Same here,” Eva said, eyes squinting. “I mean, they’re not even talking.”

Connie laughed a little, reaching into the cooler and handing Eva a beer. She popped the top for her and grabbed one for herself, “I suppose it could be worse.”

“Could be fireworks.”

Brows raised, Connie asked, “Is there a story there?”

“Ah,” Eva edged, “When I was a kid, my parents used to have this block party on the fourth with this huge fireworks display.  One of the neighbors built a potato cannon that they primed with hairspray. One year they shot roman candles out of it.”

Jaw open, Connie took a few seconds to reply, “Did...someone get hurt?”

“Oh, no,” Eva clarified, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand, “A window got knocked out, but no one got hurt.”

A while later, Eva was fanning herself with her hand, sweat falling down her neck. In the late afternoon, the sun beat down on them. Even with the umbrellas above, Eva could feel her body fighting to keep itself cool. Standing, she pulled off her cover up.

“I’m getting in,” she declared, “I can’t take it any more.”

Connie laughed and stood with her, “I’ll go with you. Nice suit, by the way.”

Eva thanked her, returning the sentiment. Connie was wearing a canary yellow one piece, the thighs cut high to highlight her muscular thighs. She threw off her sunglasses and pulled her hair atop her head into a tight bun. Eva wished she’d thought to bring a hair tie. She’d never really been concerned about the way her hair curled in irregular little ringlets and waves before, but knowing that Horacio would be stopping by afterwards made her a little self conscious. With a little effort, she shrugged it off and darted out to the edge of the pool, jumping in.

The water was cool, a shock to her body as it enveloped her. Eva felt the air rush out of her lungs as she  sunk beneath the surface. Her feet touched down and she kicked hard, breaching the water with a sharply indrawn breath.

Wiping the water from her eyes, she laughed at Connie, who had used the ladder to drop daintily into the pool.

“I haven’t done that since I was a kid,” she said, her cheeks hurting a bit with the force of her smile.

Connie nodded enthusiastically, “We had a pool, too. Above ground. Mom would make us wear pool floats the whole time we were in it.”

Eva shook her head, “I suppose there’s something to be said for safety. I was an only child, so my parents let me do whatever I wanted, mostly.”

“Are they still around?”

Eva swallowed, her eyes falling to the water she was swishing between her fingers, “No, they died a long time ago.”

“Oh, my God,” Connie gasped, “I’m sorry. How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It was an accident,” Eva explained.  

It was the same explanation that she’d given a million people before and would likely continue to give. A plane crash. No survivors. They were headed to a little resort that Josh had booked for their anniversary.  Eva could still remember what her mother’s face had looked like when Josh handed her the tickets—excited and charmed. It turned her stomach.

Connie read her expression and approached slowly, arms pushing through the water, “Was it… was it because of your husband? Because of the things he did?”

Eva had been as honest as she could about the things that had occurred in her marriage, had told Connie about the way she learned to cover bruises, about how she used the work to give her purpose even though she knew it resulted in the destruction of people’s lives, about how he hurt her less when she did a good job.

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Um, I tried to run away—had a passport and some cash hidden. I can’t prove it, but I think he killed them to make a point.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eva,” Connie breathed. “That’s horrifying.”

Eva blinked at Connie, trying to smile, “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“That’s not something you make peace with.”

She was right, Eva hadn’t made peace with it, not really. It had taken a long time for her to stop feeling guilty and to place the blame solely on Josh. It was part of the reason that she was able to kill him that night. She’d channeled all that rage into the fight, and she’d finally come out the victor.

“I got him back, though, didn’t I?” She said, chin lifting.

“Yes, you did.”

They swam for a while, until the food was done. Steve called out to them, a pair of tongs clapping together in one hand. They ate off paper plates, beers fresh from the cooler dripping condensation onto the cement below.

After wards, Eva laid back on the lounge, feeling sleepy. She kept a beer next to her, drinking from it lazily. One arm thrown over her head, she stretched her legs out long, enjoying the sun and relaxation. That’s how Horacio found her. Eyes closed, half shaded by the umbrella, suit drying out on her body. She heard him walk up and sit on the lounge next to hers.

Eva opened her eyes and smiled, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

She sat up, swinging her legs around so that she could face him, “You get everything done at work?”

He nodded, “Got some paperwork in the truck I need to finish. I parked at your place, I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s no problem, you park there most of the time anyways.”

That was very much the truth. They hadn’t spent many nights away from one another, almost all of them at her place. Horacio told her that he liked her apartment better than his house because it was cozier. Eva could see why. She’d finally gotten to see his house, and it was sparsely decorated, indicative of a man who lived at work and only slept when he had to.

“Did you eat?” she asked.

Another nod, “Since its a Saturday, we order take out for the guys.”

Eva started to reach out to touch him, but the first two fingers of his right hand lifted quickly, stopping the motion.

“There are a lot of eyes here.”

Right. Although he hadn’t explained in detail, Javier had let it slip during a meeting that Carillo had a literal bounty on his head. In his fight against the rise of drugs in the country, he’d ruffled a lot of feathers. And, that made anyone associated with him vulnerable. When they were in public, he kept a distance between them and, outside of rare occasions, he didn’t touch her. The longer they were together, to more strict he became about it. Eva was still adjusting.

Eva pointed to the swim trunks he was wearing, “Did you go home to change or did you wear this to the office?”

Shooting her a sardonic look he asked, “What do you think?”

“I know, I know,” she replied, “God forbid you show up anything less than immaculate.”

It was probably the only point of contention between them. He always got up early to get dressed for the day. Eva argued constantly that he could go in one day without going through his entire routine, his coworkers wouldn’t notice. He argued back that he was supposed to be setting an example and that meant ironing his undershirt. She hadn’t yet managed to convince him to sleep in with her, his internal clock kicking in like….well, clockwork.

Now, though, he was wearing teal colored swim trunks and one of his more casual polo shirts. His hair was still combed back from his face, the curls tamed by the pomade he kept next to his aftershave on her bathroom counter. He’d taken a little extra time to shave that morning.

Eva gestured towards the cooler, “Go get yourself a beer. Relax for two seconds.”

She watched him as he rose and sauntered over to the little cooler by the grill, greeting the others along the way. Connie stepped over and sat next to her, leaning a little into Eva’s space.

She handed Eva a fresh beer, saying, “So… you guys are good?”

Eva nodded, “Yep.”

Connie stared at her.

“What?”

“You like him.”

Eva snorted, “Of course I like him. We literally discussed this a few days ago.”

“No, I mean you really like him,” Connie clarified, “You do this thing where the more you want something, the less you talk about it.”

Looking at her with a flustered expression, “What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?”

Connie took a swig from the bottle in her hand, “I don’t know, maybe admit that you like him more than you let on and you’re afraid that its going to self destruct because you’re both working dangerous jobs in a dangerous country where one or both of you could be killed and the pressure is a little too high for such a new relationship.” She took a deep breath, “And that scares the shit out of you.”

Eva’s mouth thinned as she regarded her friends, “Way to put it so succinctly.”

“Thank you.” A beat, “So, are you going to admit it?”

Eva glared.

Connie rolled her eyes, “Alright, don’t admit it. We both know its true.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eva glowered. Then, after taking just a moment to think about it, she said, “He thinks I’m going to become a target if they find out.”

She didn’t have to say who ‘they’ were. Connie knew, had married into it.

“That’s possible.”

“I don’t know how to prove that I’m not scared.  Hell, I was on the other side of this fifteen years ago. I know the risks.”

Connie rolled a shoulder, resting her arms on her knees, her gaze following her husband as he told yet another wild story, “Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Some thought,” Eva agreed.

“Sounds like you’re willing to take on those risks.”

“Some risks.”

“Sound like you just admitted you like him a lot.”

“Jesus, Connie,” Eva grumbled.

Flashing a smile at Eva, Connie cajoled, “Is it that hard to admit?”

“Given my last long standing relationship ended in literal murder, I would say I’ve got grounds to be cautious.”

Lifting a finger, Connie asserted firmly, “Cautious, not cowardly.”

She had a point.  Eva kind of resented her for it.

They spent another hour or so talking among themselves, until the cooler ran out of beer.

“I bet that vodka’s good and cold,” Eva announced, heading for the gate. She didn’t bother with a towel or her cover up, already mostly dry from the sun.

Connie threw up her hands, “Yes! There’s orange juice in the fridge. And, another six pack.”

“I’ll help,” Carrillo offered, following Eva towards the door.

The sliding glass rumbled as she pulled it open, pushing through the vertical blinds to duck inside. The air conditioning hit her hard, goosebumps rising over her skin. She hissed a little bit, rubbing at her arms as she made her way across the kitchen to the fridge. Behind her, the heavy glass door slid closed.

Bare feet shuffling across the tile, Eva opened the fridge and found the six pack and orange juice, setting them on the counter beside her before pulling the vodka out of the freezer.  It was definitely cold enough, the bottle immediately frosting despite the cool air.

“You know, there’s going to come a time when I’ll be able to out drink Connie, but today is not going to be that day,” she said with a smile.

Eva stood and ran abruptly into Horacio, who reached behind her to shut the freezer door, the other hand taking the bottle from her and setting it next to the orange juice and the beer. Without further preamble, he leaned down and kissed her hard. She squeaked a little, unprepared for it, before settling into the motion.

He pulled away, hands skimming her waist and hips, “I’ve been meaning to do that since I got here.”

Eva wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “I think we’ve discussed that you’re free to kiss me whenever you want.”

“Not always,” he replied, the implication heavy in his tone.

She gave a little bob of her head in understanding, “Still, offer’s on the table.”

“Noted,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing her again. Slower. Deeper. “Have I told you how much I like kissing you?”

Eva smiled as she ruffled the little hairs on the nape of his neck, “The feeling is mutual.”

Hands spanning her waist, he gazed down the length of her body, “Have I told you how much I like this suit.” His grip tightened the tiniest bit, “So much skin.”

At this, Eva’s smile morphed into an abashed laugh, “You’ve seen me in less.”

His brows quirked, mouth curving into an almost but not quite smile, “Usually, I can touch you.”

“You’re touching me now, Big Guy.”

She watched his lips as he pulled them in between his teeth, pressing lightly before letting go. He pulled her into him until they were pressed together, standing between the counter and the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. Little kisses trailed up her neck to her jaw, and finally to her mouth. Though his arms held her tight, his mouth was soft and gentle, tongue snaking out to taste.

The easiness of the kiss, the fact that they’d been apart for almost a day, the knowledge that once they stepped back outside she couldn’t touch him again until they were safely ensconced in her apartment made Eva greedy to have what she could, when she could. Despite the fact that he wasn’t doing much more than holding her, she felt the echo of arousal bloom in her belly. Lifting up onto her toes, she deepened the kiss, tilting her hips into him.

His response was...absolutely to be expected. Thigh pushing between her legs, he walked her back to the counter until it dug into her lower back. One hand came up to grip her damp hair, angling her head back so that he could press his face into her neck. Eva tried to roll her chin down to get at him again, but he held her still.

Dark eyes looked up at her from beneath his lashes, “As soon as we get back to your apartment.”

It took her maybe half a second to process his meaning, and then she was giving a quick jerk of her head. He breathed deeply, taking in her scent, before stepping away. Shoulders tense, he picked up the orange juice and six pack and gesturing towards the sliding glass doors.

With shaking hands, Eva grabbed the vodka, thankful for the freezing bottle. She pressed it to her belly, walking ahead of Horacio. By the pool, the group had gathered on the lounge chairs.

Eva held up the bottle as she approached, “I come bearing gifts!”

“Ah, Jesus,” Javier groaned, leaning over to stage whisper to Steve, “I don’t think I’m up for this.”

Connie rolled her eyes as she took to bottle from Eva, cracking it open, “Man up, Javier. This is a party.”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket, hanging from the back of the chair, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, “All your parties end in fights.”

“Excuse me,” Connie retorted, offended, “One party ended in a fight, thank you very much.”

Eva frowned, “Is this the bar fight, gun fight?”

Beside Connie, Steve dropped his head into his palm, shaking it. Javier took a drag and blew out the smoke. Connie glared.

“So, here’s what happened,” Javier said, making room for Carrillo to sit by him. “We’re at a work thing, schmoozing with the big wigs in the department. Usual stuff. One guy gets a little drunk and makes a pass at Connie, who proceeds to grab his hand and break it.”

“Sprain it,” Connie cut in. “I sprained it. Barely.”

Javier scoffed, “Anyways, the guy happens to be a major player for this political group who gave us money. They don’t give us money anymore.”

Connie handed Eva a cup—vodka and orange juice, “What was I supposed to do? Let the guy grab my ass in a room full of people.”

Eva thought about it, “I agree with Connie. Break his fucking hand.”

“Thank you,” Connie said, touching Eva’s arm in solidarity.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Eva said, crossing one leg over the other, “How is that a fight?”

Javier’s brows lifted as he recalled, “Oh, right. Steve got in the guy’s face.”

Eva made a sound of disbelief, “Alright, no. This wasn’t Connie’s fault, Steve’s the one who escalated things.”

“What was I supposed to do?” he echoed Connie’s sentiment.

She shrugged, “I’m not the best person to answer that question.”

Three pairs of eyes crept over to Carrillo, who was already shaking his head, “I probably would have done the same.”

Eva had to take a deep drink from her cup to cover the expression unfolding on her face. She couldn’t help the image of him pushing into someone’s space, a threat spoken lowly. His thick frame blocking any hope of escape. Eva thought she’d like to see that someday.

“That’s not the point,” Javier cut in.

“What is the point?” Connie asked.

“That your parties end in fights.”

“One party—not even my party.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Eva blurted, setting down her cup. She grabbed Connie’s hand, “Let’s go.”

Tugging the woman along, Eva hauled ass towards the pool tumbling headfirst into the water. She heard a second splash nearby, and she smiled beneath water as she kicked to the surface. Breaching, Eva pushed her hair back from her face, her eyes going wide as she caught a body flying over her, sending a wave of water over her. She ducked under, hearing a third splash.

Coming up laughing, she spotted both Javier and Steve swimming away, Connie following not far behind, shouting. She looked up, smiling at Carrillo, who was popping to top off a beer.

“You gonna join us?”

He looked dubious.

“Oh, don’t tell me you can’t swim,” Eva wheedled before ducking down and pushing off the edge of the pool to shoot out towards the center.

She popped up next to Javier, dodging Connie as she pushed him under. Tiptoeing around Steve, Eva put a little distance between them, her wide smile dropping as she looked down to the other side. Carrillo had set down his beer and was walking towards the pool, tugging off his polo. She would never, ever get used to it. Eva had spent many nights holding onto those shoulders, feeling him move between her thighs, and she was still struck dumb.  He caught her eye, and though his expression didn’t change, she could tell that he was gloating. With sure movements, he gave a little bounce and then his arms swung forward as he executed a seamless dive into the pool.

Righting herself, Eva leaned against the wall of the pool, flicking water at Connie, who swam up beside her.

“Please tell me you…”

“Yeah.”

“And its…”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed with a long sigh.

They relaxed in the water as the sun started it descent towards the horizon. Eva held her position against the wall, talking with Connie and trying like hell to keep her eyes and her hands off Horacio. It seemed all too easy for him to act casually—a little sarcasm here, a little small talk there. She envied that ability. Her body, already attuned to him, seemed constantly on edge. Anticipation simmering under her skin to the point that she was surprised the water around her wasn’t gently steaming.

Too soon, a couple men in uniforms approached the gate, yelling out towards them. Connie grumbled and loudly announced that their time was at an end. They were, evidently, being forced out. After gathering the cooler and towels, they headed inside.

The phone was ringing, pausing the conversation for a moment.  Steve answered it, speaking for a few minutes, then hanging it up. He looked annoyed.

“Well, looks like we’re heading into the office tomorrow.”

Connie scowled, “Its a Sunday.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve replied with a shake of his head, “We’ve got a meeting. You too, Carrillo.”

Beside her, Carrillo put his hands on his hips, “They tell you want its about?”

“Nope, just said we report in at eight.”

Eva pushed her wet hair back from her face then pulled her cover up over her body despite the fact that her suit was still pretty wet, “They say anything about me coming in?”

Steve opened the cooler and popped the top off another beer, “No. I think its just us three.”

She nodded. Highly classified meeting, then. She didn’t want to admit that she felt left out, so she shrugged and said, “Alright. I’m going to head home. Thank you for having me over, Connie.”

Connie hugged her, “Thanks for coming over and saving me from hearing more about office politics.”

They said their goodbyes and Eva headed out into the night, stars just beginning to shine above her. A little tipsy, she strolled along leisurely, not surprised when Carrillo followed.

“That was really fun,” she said when he moved up beside her, keeping pace.

He made a noncommittal sound, his gaze focused in front of them.

“When was the last time you actually spent a weekend afternoon not attached to your desk doing paperwork?”

Or, attached to her kitchen island, or the little dining room table in the nook of his house. More often than not, he brought files home with him. Eva had seen him sign his name so many times she could have probably forged it by now.

Lifting a shoulder, he replied, “Its been a long time.”

Eva scratched at the skin above her brow, a little unsure of herself, “You should do things for fun more often.”

He looked at her, “I assume you have ideas.”

“I might,” she said coyly, spinning to walk backwards in front of him, “There’s apparently some beautiful scenery, here.  We could go hiking.”

His brows lifted and she could see a ghost of a smile, “We could do that.”

“Alright, its decided, then. We’ll go hiking when you get some time off.”

Eva knew that it was a long shot that he’d have more than a day off at a time, if past history was anything to go by. Still, it was nice to make plans, ambiguous as the timing may be. She hadn’t ever made plans like this before, and the prospect made her warm inside.

Keying into her apartment, Eva left the door open for him to come in. She started to say something innocuous about being home again, but she was cut off. Horacio grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into his body and kissed her. She gave a stilted gasp, arms coming up to rest on his biceps.

Hands traveling down her body, he scrunched the fabric of her cover up in his palms, pulling it up and over her head. When he slipped the pads of his fingers down into her suit bottoms, Eva stepped back, pulling him along with her.

“I have to get this chlorine out of my hair,” she explained, pacing backwards towards the bathroom, “You want to join me?”

Fire sparked in his eyes, his steps guiding her back and into her bedroom, rounding the corner and pushing her into the bathroom. As she moved to turn on the taps, he pulled at the ties of her top, throwing the fabric to the floor. After doing the same with her bottoms, he yanked her back into his chest, one hand tracing down her stomach in a confident caress.

He cupped her mound, fingers sliding through her folds and pressing firmly.  Eva swallowed back a moan, head tipped back as he kissed along her shoulder down to her collarbone. Steam began to fill the room, heat wafting from the shower. She reluctantly pulled away, tugging off his shirt and swim trunks and stepping into the spray.

Eva half expected that he would push her against the tile and fuck her against it. His touch was impatient in a way that was new and shot heat straight into her core. She was, however, surprised to find that he reached down and grabbed her shampoo, lathering it through her strands thoroughly. He crowded her under the water, tilting her head around to rinse the suds away. She watched him grab a loofah and pour some body wash on it, her skin sizzling with anticipation.

Long, careful strokes swept the pool water from her body. She could feel the arousal that was always at a low simmer ramping up even though his touch wasn’t remotely sexual. Unable to help herself, she pressed a kiss to his sternum, resting her forehead against his chest. He sighed, his arms wrapping around her.

Wanting to return the favor, Eva reached back and took the loofah from him, running it over his broad chest, his stomach, his thighs. Though his erection bobbed up between them, she avoided it for the moment. Switching sides with him, she let the water fall over his body, her hands pushing the soap down towards the tub.

Dropping the loofah, Eva grabbed the shampoo and poured just a little into her hand, arms lifting to gently scrub it through his curls, finally free of the pomade he regularly combed through it. Using her nails, she lightly scratched at his scalp, smiling when his eyes closed in pleasure. Tilting his head back, Eva rinsed the shampoo from his hair, hands tracing down his face and neck.

Leaning down, Horacio’s lips found hers, his tongue darting out to taste. The water falling over his back sluiced down to run between her breasts and down her stomach. Eva pressed against him rolling her hips invitingly.

He broke the kiss with a moan, one hand grabbing her ass. Eva knew that, if she didn’t act quickly, he’d slot his fingers inside her and she would cease to be able to think, let alone respond. The omega in her loved that he was taking care of her, reveled in it, even. But the omega in her also wanted to make him want her just as much as she wanted him, wanted him feeling wild with it.

Lightly, so as to not give herself away, Eva traced down his chest, palm turning so that she could grasp him in her hand. He rested his forehead against her temple, mouth open, breath stuttering. She pumped him slowly, but firmly, wrist twisting at the top.

When the hand holding her hip started to dip down towards her center, Eva stopped him, holding him by the wrist. She kissed him, teeth catching at his lower lip. The wrist in her palm flexed as he tried to pull free. Eva shook her head, stroking him just a little faster. He groaned, pushing his thigh between hers, using the hand on her ass as leverage to drag her clit against him.

He breathed her name, the sound of it loud against the tiled walls. Eva felt her chest swell at the strain in his tone, power building with every choked moan, every sigh. She watched him lick his lips, her gaze dropping to his cock. He was hard, pulsing, his hips tilting towards her. It was a sight that she knew would always be with her, a feverish memory locked intimately with his scent.

As she contemplated dropping to her knees, the water began to turn cold. Eva laughed as he hissed, spinning to turn off the faucet. When he looked at her, Eva’s laughed faded, blood rushing in her ears at the intensity of his expression. He ushered her out of the tub, hands pushing her forward. Impatient, he hauled her up and over his shoulder, walking quickly to the bed.

He tossed her down, her body bouncing with the force. Eva watched him crawl over her, the muscles of his body flexing with every motion. More deep, intense kisses followed, his hands arranging her beneath him. When she reached for him, he swatted her away, lifting to his knees. Balanced over her, Horacio opened the nightstand to grab a condom.

When he paused, brows together, Eva asked him what was wrong, her voice a hoarse rasp.

His eyes closed, his chin dropping to his chest, “We’re out.”

She squinted up at him, “Out?”

“Of condoms, we’re out.”

That was impossible. She’d gone out and bought some maybe two days ago, they couldn’t possibly…Her brain very eagerly explained that they had been having a lot of sex. Eva tried to suppress it, but the giggle burst forth, her hands coming up to cover her face.

Horacio looked down at her, mouth half smiling, “I’m glad you’re amused.”

Affectionately, Eva pulled him down to her, rolling them to their sides, “C’mere.”

Her name was a warning as it passed his lips, but she shut him up with a kiss. Stroking along his skin, Eva kept kissing him until he relaxed against her, big body falling deep into the mattress. Arms wrapping around her, he rolled to his back, pulling one of her legs over his thigh. Hands on her hips, he encouraged her to move on him.

Eva couldn’t get close enough, her hands falling to his shoulders, using them to help her get friction on her clit. She ground down on him, her slick coating his skin and easing the movement. Still, she couldn’t quite get there. Her arousal burned through her, soaking into her very bones, but she couldn’t make herself come.

Sweat beaded on her temples, her muscles burning. She bit down on her lip, eyes closed. It wasn’t going to work, not when she could feel him pressed against her hip. Not when all she wanted was to be stuffed so full of him that she could barely move.

Shifting, Eva wavered over his body, weight on her palms as she kissed him, licking into his mouth. Moving determinedly, she opened her hips and swung her leg up and over, straddling him. The first contact seared through her, and her body screamed out that this was much better. She rocked against him, hands falling to his chest for balance.

“Yes,” he breathed, urging her faster, hands pulling at her hips, her thighs, “Like that, just like that.”

Eva picked up the rhythm he was guiding her to, her body working to get off. This was so, so much better, but she still couldn’t get there.  She felt on fire from it, a whimpering, desperate mess. The orgasm was so fucking close, but not even his thumb circling over her clit was pushing her over the edge.  

He pulled her down, sandwiching his cock between them, hips arching towards her. Horacio planted kiss after kiss over her neck, her chest, her jawline, her mouth. Little yearning growls sounded in the space between them. Eva pulled her knees beneath her, letting her hips open so that she could rub as much of her pussy against him as she could.

Every upward thrust brushed against her clit, every twist of her hips, coated him from root to tip. The pace picked up, and Eva’s eyes rolled back when their bodies aligned perfectly so that the head breached her just a little, sliding in then out and along the length of her folds.

Eva moaned his name, her nails digging into his shoulders. Beneath her, Horacio groaned long and low, eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, he rolled her over, most of his weight falling atop her. His hands held her to the mattress so that he could grind down on her. Even though she could barely breathe, Eva let out a pleased gasp. The force of his body pushing against her, the way he buried his face in her neck, arms holding her tight, all of it pushed her pleasure higher.

“So good, so good,” she chanted, hands in his hair.

Lifting a little, he looked down between them, his cock pushing up through her her folds, wet and swollen. Hips fluid, he grabbed her ass in one hand, pulling her to him. Eva braced her feet on the mattress, shifting beneath him to get that feeling of him opening her up just a bit. It was almost enough, that tiny breach followed by a hard drag across her clit.

Giving a frustrated grunt, he dropped onto an elbow, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him,  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you have to stop trying to fuck me, Eva.”

She whined, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, “I can’t help it. I want it. Please, Horacio.” She stole a kiss, “Feels so good with you inside me. Love when you fuck me.”

Against her, he pulsed, hips jerking. He blinked down at her, jaw unhinged. Deep breaths, grip tight, “Evangeline. Listen...listen. I’m gonna.” The thought alone seemed to spur him on, movements snapping against her, “I’m gonna… you need to listen. When I tell you, you need to let me pull out.”

Eager, she nodded, taking another kiss as he lined himself up and pushed inside. This, this was what she needed. Fuck, but he felt bigger than he ever had, the stretch tight. Eva arched, pushing her breasts into his chest, neck exposed for him to mouth along. Her body clenched so tight he couldn’t get more than an inch or two inside.

“Fuck, Eva. You have to let me in.” The words were half growled against her neck, teeth pressed against her skin.

She bit down on her response, “I’m trying.”

He pulled back, another thrust stunted by the squeeze of her cunt. His fists clenched beside her head, a wordless groan sounding.

“Try harder.”

Eva breathed deeply, trying to form coherent thoughts, “Maybe if you, if I...if you let me on top.”

He shook his head hard, “No. No—feels too good when you ride me.”

A laughed bubbled up, Eva cupped his face, catching his eyes, “Its supposed to feel good.”

“Too good. Come too fast,” he breathed, then, “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He still hadn’t bottomed out inside her, and Eva’s desperation grew every time he pulled out and pushed in again. She wanted him deeper, harder, wanted him to hold her down and leave bruises in his wake. In between breaths a plan formed. Eva reached down and grasped his hips for purchase, pulling him down as she rotated her hips up. Yes, yes! The feeling spanned electric down her spine.

With a curse, he snagged her hands, yanking them above her head, her name a warning on his lips. She arched her back, her hips working against him, moving on him from below. Ignoring a second warning, Eva rolled her hips as best she could, taking him further and further. He’d stilled above her, eyes watching as she moved.

His hands gripped her tighter, voice rough, “Look at you.”

She kept throwing her hips up until she’d worked him all the way inside, the feeling short circuiting any ability to think beyond the ‘more, more more’ that chanted in her head.

“There you go,” he praised, “Take what you need. Take it from me.”

The snap of his hips resumed, shoving his cock inside her and hitting every pleasurable spot she had. Eva felt a sharp, high pitched gasp rush out of her. Words fell from her lips, encouraging him, telling him how good it felt, how much she needed him, nonsense syllables rising along with the orgasm that fairly exploded outward from her center, her muscles locking down on him from the inside.

He rode her through as much of it as he could before he pulled away, reaching down to stroke himself—fast, hard pumps until he was spilling over her lower stomach. Still breathing hard, Eva leaned up and wiped the sweat from his brow, kissing his cheek softly. His come dripped over her mound, falling down over her lips. He watched it with dark eyes, jaw tight.

With one hand, he pushed her back to the mattress, the other threw a leg over his shoulder as he moved down the bed, mouth on her before she could draw her next breath. Eva might have had the capacity to be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of her, the choked, half screamed moans, but her body was already skyrocketing towards another orgasm. What pushed her over the edge was the sight of his hand, resting on her pelvic bone, sliding upwards to drag his come over her skin, his eyes watching her face. She threw back her head, cunt clenching down hard enough that her vision blacked out momentarily.

For a long time, she could only stare at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath. She felt him move, heard his footsteps, sighed at the warm cloth he dragged over her sensitive skin so tenderly.  He threw the cloth towards the bathroom, gathering her in his arms. She fell asleep to the feeling of him kissing her shoulder softly.

[doc-pickles]

the jolex college AU that literally no one asked for

Soooo I did a thing. I’ve actually had 90% of this in my drafts for awhile and I just decided to finish it today. (nina you said you didn’t have any fics in your drafts. WELL I’M STUPID SO THERE’S THAT) I’m not planning on expanding this past a one shot but it’s a fun little AU that my mind kicked up one night while watching 14x15 and drinking too much sangria. It’s not polished up or beta read but I figured something is better than nothing :) 

also TW// jo swears like a freaking sailor in this fic

“A fucking fire alarm? Really?!”

Jo Wilson was not one to be inconvenienced, especially not while she was in the damn shower. She let a groan out as the water above her shut off, probably an incentive to get her out of the building in case it really was on fire. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jo muttered to herself, reaching for her towel. After wrapping it around herself, she realized that she hadn’t brought her clothes with her. “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Fuming with anger, Jo began to walk down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor and out the front door of Earl Hall. Various cat calls and whoops met Jo’s ears, but she was too angry with whoever the hell set off the fire alarm to acknowledge them. 

“Wilson! You trying to give us a show here,” Jo turned at her name, staring down Andrew DeLuca as he attempted to get under her skin… or under her towel. “I wouldn’t say no to a free peep show.”

“Oh shove off DeLuca, you’ll fuck anything with a pulse,” Jo retorted, earning a howl of laughter from DeLuca’s friends. “I’ll show off the goods to anyone who can tell me who set off the fucking fire alarm while I was showering though.”

“That would be me.”

Jo whipped around, one hand coming to hold the bottom of her towel in place as she came face to face with the person who had effectively ruined her day. 

She hadn’t met the man before, but Jo was instantly mesmerized. He wore a dark blue shirt and plaid boxer shorts, hair ruffled at odd angles and the beginnings of a scruffy beard appearing on his sharp jawline. The man was handsome and by God did Jo just want to fuck him right there and then. 

Kill him. Kill him right there and then. 

Jesus Christ Jo, pull your head out of your vagina. 

“So you’re the asshole that set off the alarm,” Jo asked, eyebrow raising as if daring him to refute her words. “Well hi, I’m Jo and I’m fucking pissed at you.”

“I’m Alex and I really enjoy your talent for slipping the word ‘fuck’ into almost every sentence that comes out of your mouth,” Jo stared back at Alex, unamused by his joke. “Listen I’m sorry, I was trying to study for chem and my hot plate burned a hole through my notebook. You should be back in soon if it’s any consolation.”

As if by fate, the fire alarm stopped ringing and someone shouted that it was safe to go back in. Students began to file in but Jo and Alex kept their staring match going. She couldn’t tell if it was the mounting sexual tension between them or just plain old hostility, but Jo couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man in front of her. 

“You’re on my fucking shit list Alex,” Jo stated firmly before walking away. “You better watch it!”

“Hey! You didn’t hold up your end of things,” Alex called out, causing Jo to turn back around and lift an eyebrow in question. “You said that you would ‘show off the goods’ to anyone who told you why the fire alarm went off. Well that was me.”

Jo paused momentarily, thoughts racing a million miles a minute before she moved closer to Alex and opened her towel up. Eyes wide, Alex immediately diverted his gaze away from Jo, not anticipating that she would actually flash him. With a satisfied smirk, Jo tucked her towel back into place and walked back towards the dorm hall. 

“Have a good fucking night Alex!”

+

“If I never end up at another frat party it’ll be too soon,” Jo complained, swatting a hand away from her ass as she followed her roommate towards the kitchen. “Why’d you have to drag me out here, Hannah? You know Brandon trolls these parties looking for unsuspecting girls to trick into dating him so he can cheat on them a month in.”

Hannah looked at Jo with a bored expression, as if to say she was tired of hearing this story over and over again. 

“We get it, you hate Brandon Thomas and everything he stands for,” Hannah rolled her eyes and handed a red solo cup to Jo. “But you realize that this is the Kappa house and Brandon is in Chi Omega. They’re sworn enemies, you’ll never see him here unless the planets align and someone’s sacrificed a virgin to the moon god.”

Jo rolled her eyes, lips coming to the cup and taking a large swallow of the jungle juice inside. She didn’t really know anyone at these parties, but there was always free alcohol and she had a pocket knife stashed in her bra in case she got into trouble. 

“Jo, promise me you won’t kill me but Brandon is here,” Jo’s head whipped around to look at Hannah, eyes wide as she stared her roommate down. “He’s by the front door, just turn around and walk towards the backyard and you’ll never see each other.”

Jo eyed the back door, only 50 feet from where she was standing. She could definitely make it there without being noticed. Weaving through the crowd, Jo was positive she would get out without accident. 

“Jo! Is that you?”

Brandon’s voice sounded over the crowd, making Jo cringe as she realized she had been caught. She looked around in a panic, almost yelling as a pair of arms slid around her waist. 

“Just play along, I hate that douche bag too,” Jo looked up in shock, realizing that the person that had grabbed her was the guy who had set off the fire alarm last week. “Nice to fucking see you, Jo.”

“Oh you’re a piece of- MMM,” Jo was cut off by Alex’s lips pressing into hers. Jungle juice and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Jo presses back against him. Alex holds her against him for a minute more, one hand trailing to grab her ass while the other pulls her closer into his embrace. Her free hand unconsciously comes up to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and Jo swears she can feel him moan under the pounding sounds of bass music that surround them. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, he pulls away with a crooked grin. 

“Sorry, that prick Thomas was walking by, had to give him a show. You’re welcome.” 

Alex walks away from Jo then, leaving her standing in the middle of a frat house party completely confused. 

+

“Jo! I’m walking out the door but your alarm has been going off for 20 minutes!” Hannah slammed the door to the dorm room, abruptly waking Jo up. She looked to her bedside clock, groaning loudly as she realized that she had 15 minutes to get across campus to her 9:30 AM class. 

“Well fuck,” Jo bemoaned as she rolled out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes were around her and throwing them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t miss O Chem again. Fuck!”

Rushing out the door, Jo let her worn out sneakers pound across the pavement towards her Organic Chemistry class. It was only week two of spring semester and she couldn’t risk missing class for a second time. 

Skidding into the lecture hall, Jo raced past a few students and slid into the back row of her class only five minutes late. She let out a loud breath, pulling her notebook out of her backpack as she tried to tune into the professor.

“You know you might be able to learn more if you show up on time,” Jo’s head snapped up as she looked to her left, realizing that the seat she had chosen was right next to Alex. “Funny seeing you here.”

“You have a lot of nerve trying to talk to me again after what you did at that house party,” Jo kept her eyes locked on her notebook, refusing to even glance at Alex as she started writing notes. “Even if you did save my ass, who goes around kissing strangers?”

“We’re not strangers. I know that your name is Jo and we live in the same hall and you smuggle cereal out of the dining hall when you think no one is looking,” Alex shrugged, eyes trained on the lecturer at the front of the hall. “And you’ve shown me your rack, I feel like that counts for something too.”

Side eyeing the man next to her, Jo watched Alex listening intently to their professor. He had a serious expression painted on his face, one that made him look years older than he was. Today he wore a forest green sweatshirt that bore the university’s wrestling team logo. Jo thought back to the first time she met Alex, remembering the way his shoulders and arms were built up more than anything else on his lean body. His dark hair and eyes that had instantly caught Jo’s eye seemed harsher under the fluorescent lighting of the classroom. This version of Alex that she was staring at today seemed so different than the Alex who accidentally set his chemistry book on fire and kissed her at a party to help her avoid her cheating ex. This Alex… well he seemed cold and unapproachable. 

“Okay that only proves that you’ve been stalking me,” Jo rolled her eyes. “What do you want? Are you expecting me to sleep with you? Or help you with your homework? Because that’s a no on all of the above.”

“Nah figured you needed a friend,” Alex shrugged, pencil tapping against the edge of his textbook. “You seem like the lonely type.”

“I am not lonely,” Jo’s voice comes out louder than intended. Her next words are softer as she glares at Alex, their teacher and lesson long forgotten. “I’m just selective about who I spend my time with.”

She does try to concentrate on her work then, but Jo can feel Alex’s eyes boring into the side of her head. He frustrates her, angers her in a way that nobody has before and she can’t decide if she wants to punch him in the face or kiss him until she can’t breathe. 

Wait what?

Jo shook her head, trying to clear out the image of a shirtless and sweaty Alex out of her mind. She was not going to start fantasizing about the handsome muscular man who’s lips felt like velvet against hers and who’s hand on her ass made her feel like-

“You’re drooling.”

Her hand flew up to her cheek, wiping at the small pool of liquid as her cheeks flamed red. She chanced looking over to Alex, who wore a shit eating grin that was slightly crooked. Damn it, keep it in your panties Jo!

“I was thinking about… dinner tonight,” Jo nodded, keeping her gaze forward. “Probably going to get… take out, something fast and easy.”

“Fast and easy, huh?,” Jo could swear that Alex’s voice took on a husky quality to it as he lowered his volume. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine as she futilely tried to calm the rising sensations in her body. ”That’s my favorite. For dinner I mean, I love it fast… and easy…” 

Whipping her head around, Jo locked her eyes with Alex’s. The intensity of their stares almost scared her, but more than that Jo was desperate. She wanted this complete stranger (and total asshole) in the worst ways possible, her mind conjuring up images that would send her straight to Hell if she dared to say them out loud. 

“I have no idea what the professor is talking about,” Jo admitted, eyes watching Alex’s lips as her tongue darted out wet her own. “But I really wanna get out of here.”

“If I fail this class because of you, you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Alex was hastily shoving his books into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as Jo rose and made a beeline for the door. 

The pair ignored the stares they got from their classmates as they raced out the door, jetting into the empty hallway in a fit of giggles. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Jo found herself in Alex’s embrace. He pinned her against the wall, lips hungrily devouring hers as her hands fisted his hair roughly.

“Come on lover boy,” Jo smirked, hand tangling in Alex’s own as she broke apart from him and dragged him down the hall. “My roommate has classes for the rest of the day so my dorm is empty.”

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 24

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.3k - 4.5k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: idk what to say tbh, not even sure ppl read these notes lol. well, i hope it was an okay chapter?

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : one but i sort of changed it a bit!

Chapter 24 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

We fell asleep together in his bed but I woke up in the middle of the night and stared at him for god knows how long. I didn't want to tell him what I did for many reasons, but mostly because I didn't want him to feel guilty. It was not his fault, he had every right to break up with me if he was not feeling the relationship anymore, and i'm the one who had swallowed those pills. Niall was not to blame and I knew it, but I was scared he'd feel bad if he found out. To imagine being weak like that in front of him was also not something I wanted. I was not really ready to let anyone see me that weak, but I was glad Louis had found me on that night. I was glad I was still there, because it made me realize I had a problem and I was lucky enough to have someone to help me with it.

I brought my hand to Niall's cheek and ran my fingertips on it gently, making him groan low. God I loved him. Just looking at him made me want to throw everything away and give myself to him, but I knew it was a pattern I couldn't fall back into and I had to be careful. Of course I had changed, and I had matured, and learned to love myself the way I was. I had worked on myself to trust me, and trust that I was worthy of love, even Niall's, and that my body didn't define me... but all of this didn't mean that I  didn't question myself sometimes. It didn't mean that I couldn't doubt myself, or that it was easy to resist throwing myself into Niall's arms. I loved him like I have never loved anyone in my life. Did I ever love anyone else in my life?

It took me a while to fall back asleep but when I finally woke up for the second time, I kept my eyes closed and whimpered, reaching out to touch him until I realized he was not in bed with my anymore. I grimaced, my eyes still closed, and forced myself to sit up. It smelled like coffee and I smiled, stretching and opening my eyes before putting sweatpants and his t-shirt on, going to the bathroom and then walking to the kitchen. Niall was there, facing the counter as he was pouring coffee in two mugs and he glanced at me, sending me a smile.

"'Morning, how did you sleep?"

The sound of his voice made my lips curl and I walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind and leaning my cheek on his back.

"You weren't there when I woke up." I replied with a pout that he couldn't see.

He laughed. "I'm right here!"

I hugged him tighter and when I loosened my embrace, he pushed the air out of his lungs and laughed again, turning to me and leaning his ass against the counter. My hands reached for the front of his shirt and I got on my tiptoe to reach for his lips. He tasted like coffee and I smiled against his mouth.

"You're on your second cup?" I asked, making him smile more.

"Yea you slept a lot." he pointed out before pressing his lips against mine again. "You seemed tired, I didn't want to wake you up."

I looked into his eyes and a fond smile appeared on my lips. I couldn't tell him I was tired because I spent over an hour staring at him in the middle of the night, could I?

"About last night, I want to thank you for sharing that with me." he said, glancing down before looking right in my eyes. "Thank you for trusting me. I'm so sorry I made you feel like that. I'm so sorry. I knew I had hurt you, but I never thought you were so... sad after I left. I never thought me dating someone else would hurt you that much."

"It wasn't you fault." I replied after breathing it. "It was me. It was my pain, my insecurities. It was my problem and my decision to do that. A bad and wrong one, a decision I'll never make again, but it was no one's fault but mine. You could date whoever you wanted, Niall. You didn't owe me anything."

"I'm still sorry. I'll always take part of the blame for that. But you promised you would never do that anymore, remember?" he added, raising his eyebrows. I just nodded with a soft smile and he smiled back. "Good, just a reminder."

We just looked at each other with loving smiles for a while and I felt something in my stomach. I was not sure if it was love, lust or affection... or maybe all of those feelings at the same time. All I knew was that they were all directed at him.

I felt the fingers of one of his hands run in my hair and smiled more, letting my hands run down his chest as I kept staring in his eyes. I always felt the need to be close to him and touch him and when one of my hands reached his dick, he groaned low and the grip in my hair tightened.

"Don't be a tease, petal." he whispered, making me bite my bottom lip hard.

"I'm always too horny to be a tease, you're the tease."

He chuckled and he pulled gently on his hand, making my head tilt back a bit more as my hand kept stroking his cock slowly over his sweatpants.

"I just think it's been way too long since I put your cock in my mouth, what do you think?" I whispered, sending him an amused smile. "Let me get on my knees for you."

His smile faltered and his eyes roamed on my face for a few seconds before he let go of my hair, his arm falling on his side. Quickly, I took my shirt off and his eyes fell on my breasts, making me hold my breath. It was not my best feature but the way he stared at them avidly made my heart jump in my chest. I let my shirt fall on the floor and got down on it, trying to save the pain on my knees that the cold hard floor could give me. I kept my gaze locked with his again for a few seconds and then looked away, trying to focus on his cock. I pulled his pants and boxers down, feeling my pussy throb at the sight of how hard he was but something else caught my attention. Something was not like it used to be and it had nothing to do with his dick. I frowned but my lips parted and I had to blink a few times to understand what exactly was written.

"Oh my god." I whispered, bringing a finger to it and brushing the tip of it on his skin. "Did you get a fucking tattoo?"

I glanced up and he was looking down at me with a frown. I opened my eyes wide and he grimaced, letting out a low groan.

"Darling, please, can't you see how fucking hard I am?" he pointed out. "You were about to do something?"

"I'm sorry but I can't do anything before I get an explanation.." I admitted with a nervous chuckle. "That's literally my name there?"

"I was drunk, found an old letter you wrote me, decided to get your name tattooed just like you tattooed mine." he explained quickly with a shrug. "Now your mouth? Please?"

My smile grew and I licked my lips. "Why this spot?"

"It was the only spot I could think of that wouldn't be visible for anyone, or almost."

"You... you hate tattoos." I just replied, shaking my head.

"I do not hate tattoos, I just never wanted to get one. I didn't see the appeal. And I still don't." he admitted, staring down at me. "But it's your name, and it's you, and I love you. I don't regret it, and I think it's just.. fair."

I pressed my lips together and swallowed hard, tilting my head. "What a guy wouldn't say to get his cock sucked."

"I mean it, Olivia."

I felt my heart jump in my chest and my gaze moved back to the tattoo on his skin. It was not even swollen anymore but even if it was small, I couldn't pretend it didn't make me feel special.

"Seriously, Nee, I can't see my name written near your cock every single time I give you a blowjob!" I chuckled, half-joking.

"Well, get used to it!"

I laughed a bit louder before realizing he was still just as hard despite the whole discussion we just had and quickly, I brought my mouth closer, running my tongue on his length gently and reaching the base before moving it down to his balls. I heard him groan as I sucked on one and when I moved back to the tip of his cock, I looked up only to see his head had fallen back slightly. He was holding himself with both hands on the counter and I just wrapped my lips on his tip to suck on it. His fingers gripped the counter harder and I grabbed his dick in my hand, pushing his skin and running my tongue between it and his tip. One of his legs tensed and he let out a few curse words in a whisper.

"Don't stop petal." he murmured as I kept doing that for a minute or two before taking him completely in my mouth. "Fuck, I want to cum in your mouth so bad."

He pushed his hips in motion with my head movements and just hearing him groan was making me horny. I kept thinking about the last time we fucked in his kitchen and it made me moan low as I was still sucking him hard. I finally moved away to bring my lips back around one of his balls as I kept stroking his cock harder and when he whispered 'I'm gonna cum', I moved back and stuck my tongue out. He looked down at me and I stared back, making sure the tip of his cock was brushing on my tongue as I jerked him off. It only took a few seconds and when a grunt escaped his lips, my heart jumped in my chest. He came on my tongue and lips, some of his cum also ending on one of my cheeks, and it made me realize how much I had missed pleasuring him.

"Jesus Christ." he whispered, his eyes shut tight. I took him in my mouth again, sucking him gently and slowly as I saw his grip loosen on the counter and his eyes open again. His lips curled into a smirk and he licked his lips. "Oh you look so good like that."

He bent down slightly and gathered the cum on my cheek before bringing it to my lips. I sucked on his finger as he stared at me and when he moved his upper body up again, I got closer and my eyes fell on his tattoo again. Slowly, I brushed my thumb on it and without thinking, I pressed my lips on his skin before getting up. He sent me a fond smile and chuckled as he moved his pants up.

"Did you just kiss my tattoo?"

"I did." I whispered, pressing my lips together.

He bent down and kissed me gently, cupping my face and slipping his tongue in my mouth. It always made me smile how he didn't care that I had his cum in my mouth just a few seconds before, and that he would kiss me anyway without even a second of hesitation.

"I haven't had a blowjob like that in..." he stopped himself and raised his eyebrows before chuckling low. "In over a year."

"Was it worth the wait?" I asked with an amused smile as he grimaced.

"Yes, but please don't make me wait an other year for the next one, okay?"

I laughed and shook my head as he moved his hands around my waist.

"You can always ask." I pointed out with a shrug. "Or, you can grab me by the hair and force me down on your cock."

The way he looked at me with lust made my heart skip a beat and he turned us around so I was leaned against the counter. He didn't say anything, he just slipped his hand in my pants and reached between my legs. He took one and held it up on his hip as I felt his fingers slip inside me.

"That made you so wet, fuck i love that." he admitted low, making my eyes flutter. "I love how much it turns you on to please me."

He started finger fucking me quickly, curling his fingers inside me and I used all my strength to keep my eyes open We looked at each other as he rubbed two of his fingertips on my clit and I held my breath as my lips parted.

"You're gonna cum, yea? I can hear how wet you are." he whispered, bringing his lips closer and brushing them against mine. "Cum darling, cum for me."

I felt an orgasm reach me and my whole body tensed as he moved closer to me, pressing his body on mine, one of his hands still holding my leg and the fingers of the other rubbing my clit as I shook against him. He moved his face in my neck and dug his teeth in my skin, making me quiver even more against him. He kept flicking his fingers on my clit slowly and gently as I came down from my high and brought his lips on mine to kiss me again.

"Next time I'm gonna spend an hour between your legs." he whispered. "I promise."

I smiled and tilted my chin. "You better."

We kept hugging and kissing for a while and I thought about the two mugs waiting for us on the counter before groaning. He moved away and frowned as I raised my nose.

"Now coffee's cold and I have bad news for you."

He frowned too and I bent down to grab my shirt and put it back on. I turned to the coffee pot and decided make fresh coffee before emptying our mugs in the sink. When I turned around, Niall was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and staring at me.

"I have to go back home and pack." I started, making his lips part. "I have a flight for Italy tonight and nothing's ready. I'll be gone for a few days."

"Italy?"

"Yea we're supposed to cast an Italian girl for season 3 and they asked me to go. We have an interview there too and... well, I'm also going to see Dylan."

His face changed and I held my breath, feeling my heart beating hard against my rib cage as I waited for him to say something, anything, that would tell me how he felt. I could read in his face that he was not pleased but I didn't know if it was anger and pain.

"You know what I realized when Heidi sent me that picture of you in a wedding dress?" he asked, making me frown. "I mean, not at first, I was too shocked by how stunning you looked but after an hour or so, it really hit me. It's not you? The big dress, the flowers, the music and thousands of guests with a big wedding cake and your vows in front of everyone?" he paused as I stared at him. "What happened to eloping to Vegas and getting married by Elvis?"

I licked my lips and sighed, tilting my head on the side.

"It was important for Dylan, to do the big thing in front of both our families, and I wanted to make him happy." I explained with a shrug. "I still don't like big weddings."

"So you're going to spend a few days with him?" he just asked after a while.

I didn't want to tell Niall that I was going there mostly to break up with him because I didn't want him to think I did it for him, and I didn't want him to expect anything after that. I was not ready to be with someone else, not even Niall, but it was something I needed to do. I was doing that for me, because I didn't feel ready, because it was not what I wanted anymore. Of course, Niall was part of the equation, but it made me realize that I was not only scared to jump that step, but also that I didn't want to. I loved Dylan, I really did, but things were different, and I was different too. I was a different person than the one I was when I started dating him. I was even a different person than the one I was when he asked me to marry him. I was not even sure why he even wanted to marry me anyway.

"Probably, but I'll mostly be busy with auditions, and he'll be busy with filming his new movie."

I wanted to add a 'don't worry' but I didn't dare. Niall took a few steps to move closer to me and I moved my chin up to hold his gaze.

"We'll text and call each other while I'll be gone?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I'd love to." he confessed, bending down to kiss my lips. "I'm gonna miss you."

                                ---

The flight was horrible and it was probably the worst 13 hours I had to go through in a long time. I grabbed my luggage after waiting for way too long and just as I was about to leave, I got a notification. I almost decided to ignore it but I stopped near a wall, dropping my bags and checking my phone. I smiled when I saw Niall had sent me a video and when I saw him sitting behind his piano, my heart melted. I hit 'play' and bit my bottom lip, leaning against the wall as I turned the volume up.

"Liv, I know you've only been gone for a few hours but I already miss you. So I thought I'd send you this. I hope you remember."

I heard the first few piano notes and I knew what it was. My lips parted and I knew I was going to cry.

“Looking back through changes Where we started from Don’t know about you but I knew it wasn’t wrong You know I kept a place For you in my mind And I know you did the same 'Cause you’re just that kind.

So if we knew all along Why did it take so long? We’ve known since we were young So why did it take so long? You know you make me feel loved Make me feel like I’m home So if we knew all along Why did it take so long?”

I felt tears run down my cheeks as his voice and the melody brought me back to a bar over 2 years ago, when Niall had told me he loved me through this song. I brought my hand to my mouth and remained motionless as I listened to it.

“Moving on You and I started looking back Now we’ve got to make up For all the wasted time You know I’d never let you just walk on by From the day that I met you I knew you’d be mine, yeah.

So if we knew all along Why did it take so long? We’ve known since we were young Why did it take so long? You know you make me feel loved Make me feel like I’m home So if we knew all along Why did it take so long?”

When the bridge started, I let out a short sob but quickly bit my bottom lip. I couldn't start crying here, in public, right? I couldn't just break into tears here because of one song.

“Just started, it’s just started I’m having trouble believing it’s true Just started, just started Now we got nothing to prove."

The chorus played again but it's only when he stopped and turned to the camera on his phone again that my heart completely melted. I let myself slide on the wall until my butt hit the floor.

"I really just wanted you to remember that. To remember that this is the first song I wrote about how much I love you, but it's not the only one, and I won't ever stop writing songs about my love for you."

He paused and looked down before looking up again.

"I love you. Come back to me."

He moved closer to his phone to stop recording but I just stayed there, looking at the static thumbnail of his video, my vision blurry and my heart swollen. I loved him so much I just wanted to turn around and take an other plane to him.

"Are you okay?"

Quickly, I looked up at the voice and blinked a few times only to nod at the security guard that was frowning at me. I must have looked totally desperate because I was pretty sure it was not the first time he saw someone cry at the airport.

"Do you need me to call you a cab or something?"

I sniffed and wiped my tears before quickly getting up. I knew I looked like a mess. That reflected very well how I felt.

"Uhm, no, thank you. There's supposed to be a car waiting for me."

It took me half an hour to reach my hotel and I unpacked a few things. I had brought the stupid pink bear Niall had won for me and put it on the large bed along with one of my pillows before taking my phone to text Dylan. I could feel my heart thump so hard in my chest I felt like I was about to have a heart attack.

"I'm here, we really need to talk."

---

"You can't be serious."

I blinked a few times, staring at Dylan, as he reached for my hands on my lap and I let him take them and squeeze my fingers. I had decided to go see him at his apartment and I couldn't pretend the sight as I was on the road didn't shock me. The sight from his apartment was even prettier and I took a mental note to visit this country again. Perhaps, with Niall?

"I'm.. so sorry." I replied with a frown, looking down at his hands holding mine.

I suddenly felt insecure about my decision. After all, Dylan and I were happy, right? We had been happy since day one. He was a sweetheart, a gentleman and he was funny, and sensitive. He was laid-back, soft, and he was always there for me. He was the first and only person to break my walls after Niall broke my heart and also, and I hated to say it, he has been extremely important in my therapy process. How could I leave someone who literally put me back together and be in love with someone who completely tore me apart?

"Okay, you don't want to get married anymore, I understand." he pointed out, shaking his head slightly. "It was too soon, maybe, I get it. But we don't have to break up.."

I pressed my lips together and looked up at him, trying not to cry.

"We do, we have to." I let out low so my voice wouldn't break. "I'm not into this fully anymore and I don't think you are either."

"I'm just... busy here. I promise I love you just as much as I did, even more. And I miss you all the time, Olivia." he added, moving closer as I finally let tears fall on my cheeks. "Please don't cry babylove."

I closed my eyes at the nickname he always gave me and swallowed to keep the sobs in without much success. I never thought it would be so tough to actually break-up with him but it was. We had history together, and this relationship with him had been more important than any romantic relationship I ever had before, except the one with Niall's.

"I'm gonna ask for a few days off." he continued. "We can spend time here together and just... love each other again. I'm gonna do anything I can to remind you how happy we are together, I swear."

I looked up in his eyes and took my hands to bring them to his face. I shook my head and breathed in before licking my lips.

"You deserve so much better, Dyl." I admitted low even if saying those words hurt like hell. "You deserve so much better than a girl who can't be 100% with you."

His eyes roamed quickly on me and I saw him tear up.

"It's because of him, isn’t it? You're breaking up with me to be with Niall."

"No!" I closed my eyes, trying to keep my voice down. "That's not why I'm breaking up with you, Dylan I just... I can't do this anymore. I don't have a good reason for this. And I know that no matter what happens, I will be the bad guy in your story, and I think it's true. Maybe I'm the mistake you'll always regret, and maybe I'm the toxic girl you'll have fallen for. I'm so sorry to have that role in your life. That's not the part I expected to play, I promise."

"This is not a movie, Olivia." he let out a bit louder. "These are my feelings, they're real! This is my life, our life. Please, don't ruin this."

I felt my heart jump so high in my chest I was going to puke. Didn't I ask Niall the exact same thing when he broke up with me over a year ago? I brought my hands to wipe my own tears and sniffed before swallowing hard. I had to leave. I had to stop this torture, for both of us. I finally got up and he didn't stop me.

"I love you, you know." he just added as I was grabbing my purse. "Don't you love me anymore?"

"I do." I just said, turning to look at him. "That's not the problem, Dyl. And It's no one's fault."

I waited in front of the door and sight.

"Don't worry, I'll find the best Italian girl for the show. You concentrate on your movie, okay?"

"I don't give a fuck about this show anymore. Or that movie, for that matter."

I felt something twist in my chest and breathed in before sighing.

"Yea, me either."

[dlwritings]

My Princess | Peter Parker

masterlist found here

pairing - Peter x reader word count - 4,700 (this was so much longer than I planned holy moly) warnings - oral (f receiving) and fingering A/N - for the anon who requested! | Peter and reader are both 18 in this

summary - You cannot understand why Peter won’t spend the night with you. You don’t want to pressure him into something, but you’re pretty sure he wants what you do. So why is he always “too busy” to come over?

(part 2)

You hadn’t been dating Peter for very long, but you were already head-over-heels for him. You met when you were both sophomores in high school, started dating as juniors, and now you were graduated from Midtown. It was the summer before your freshman year of college, and you were itching to spend as much time with Peter as possible before the responsibilities of college caught up to you both.

Sometimes you worried you were being too clingy or too forward. You didn’t want to be a horny teenager, but you were now an 18-year-old, legal horny teenager. Every time you mentioned to Peter that you wanted him to come over at night, he always said he was too busy or couldn’t leave the house. When you suggested going to his place instead, he said May would never allow it. You didn’t even necessarily want to have sex with him. Obviously you would love if you did, but a part of you just wanted him to hold you in his arms while you fell asleep. Was that too much to ask?

It was Thursday, and you were over at Peter’s place, hanging out with him in his room. With the door open, you were both sitting on his bed playing video games. You sat between his legs, and his arms were around you, holding his controller in front of yours. He was much better than you at the game you were playing, but you were still having fun, and Peter loved hearing your little grunts of frustration every time you got shot.

“Dang it!” you shouted, throwing your controller on the bed when the game ended. “I’m trash.”

“You’re my trash,” Peter teased, placing a kiss to your cheek. You rolled your eyes and pushed his face away from you.

“Knock, knock!” May said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m going to get Chinese. You two want anything?” You both nodded and told May your orders. “Be back in a half hour or so.” As soon as the two of you heard the front door open and close, you turned and straddled Peter’s hips.

He was not as innocent as people at school thought he was.

Peter kissed you hungrily, his grip on your hips tight. You pressed your hands to his chest, fisting his t-shirt in your hands. He bit your lower lip gently, causing you to gasp and part your lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, a satisfied grin on his lips. You moved your hands from his chest up to the back of his neck where you gripped his hair in your hands. You tugged at the strands, loving how his soft hair felt between your fingers. Peter lifted your shirt just enough for him to rest his palms against your bare skin. They were warm, burning deliciously against your skin. If his kiss alone made you feel this way, you couldn’t imagine how good having sex with him would be.

“Peter,” you said, your voice coming out in pants in between kisses.

“What is it, princess?” he asked. You hated when he called you princess, just because it made a warmth spread across your body and your thighs squeeze together.

“Come spend the night,” you said. “My, my parents are, they’re down in Florida. P-please.” You hadn’t realized you had been dry humping him until he swore softly under his breath and placed kisses across your neck.Your tank top was loose, revealing a bit of your bra. Peter’s breath shook as he slowly kissed around the curve of your breast. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding against his lips. “Pete,” you said, his name coming out as more of a moan than you intended. You just wanted him to answer your question.

“I can’t,” he said, his lips still against your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” you asked. You hated how whiney you sounded. It was so frustrating when he did this to you. He basically left you hot and bothered on top of him, forced to go home and take care of things yourself.

“I’ve, I promised Mr. Stark I would help him with some stuff,” he said. “I’ve got to head there after dinner.” You sighed and got off of him, making Peter whine and reach out for you. “Don’t go, don’t go,” he said. “C’mere. May won’t be home for at least 20 more minutes.”

“I’m sick of kissing you when it’s convenient for you,” you said. “And I know that’s so dramatic, but-” You stopped and put your hand on Peter’s crotch, squeezing his member through his basketball shorts. “Don’t you ever want more?”

“Christ,” Peter mumbled, lifting his hips to meet your hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing himself back against the bed. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stand his ground. “I can’t.”

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” you bluntly asked.

“What?” Peter said, blinking in confusion. “No. Of course I do.”

“You sure don’t act like it,” you said. “Because I’ve been all but throwing myself at you, dropping every hint I know of, and you turn me down every time.”

You had officially lost your appetite, and now you were in a bad mood. You got off of Peter’s bed and straightened your clothes. “I’m going home,” you said. “You and May can eat my food.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’ll see you later,” you said. Not giving Peter a chance to say anything else, you left his room and walked out of his apartment.

You lived in the building next to his, so it took you less than five minute to collapse on your bed. Your anger had overpowered your horniness, so now you were just cranky. You laid in bed and stared at your phone, scrolling blankly through Instagram. The sun set without you even realizing it, and your apartment suddenly felt stuffy. You walked over to your window and pulled it open. You threw yourself back on your bed just as your phone started ringing. A big part of you hoped it was Peter, but it was MJ. “Mm?” you hummed as soon as you answered.

“Hey to you too,” she laughed. “What’s up?”

“Just shit with Peter,” you said.

“Still isn’t catching on to your hints?” she said.

“Oh, he’s catching on,” you said. “He’s just ignoring everything!” You sat up in bed and ran your fingers through your hair. “MJ I literally ride his thigh, invite him over every time my parents are gone, and, and I, like, palmed him through his shorts today!”

“Jesus!” MJ said. “And he still won’t?”

“Nope,” you said. “Today, I just flat out asked him if he didn’t want to have sex with me. You know, I figured if that was the case, I’d stop right away. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Mhm, and?”

“And he said he does!” you said. “So why in the hell does he turn me down every time? It’s starting to get embarrassing.”

You and MJ talked for only a few more minutes before you said goodbye. You stripped out of your jean shorts and tank top and pulled on your pajamas. Just as you went to close the blinds at your window, you saw a blue and red spandex figure land on your fire escape. “Fuck!” you shouted, jumping at his sudden presence.

“Shit, sorry, sorry,” Spider-Man said. His voice sounded strained and almost gravely, like he was intimidating Batman.

“What are you, who are, why, what’s happening?” you said. “Am I in trouble?”

“Uh, no, no,” he said. “My, uh, my senses told me there was distress here.”

“Distress?” you said with a raised eyebrow. He nodded. “I guess you could say that.” You didn’t know why, but you joined the hero on the fire escape. He was giving off a vibe like he wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you got to be distressed about?” he asked. His mechanical eyes squinted at you.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a long story,” you said. “Wouldn’t want to bore you.”

“Bore me?” he repeated. “Spending time with someone as pretty as you is much better than sweeping the skies of New York.”

Was Spider-Man flirting with you? If he was, he was really bad at it.

“Just, uh, boyfriend drama,” you said, making sure to emphasize the word boyfriend so he knew you were taken.

“Mm, that’s lousy,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s whatever,” you said with a wave of your hand. “I swear his skull is just so thick.”

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“I don’t want to make this weird,” you said. “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m an unbiased third party,” he said. “And there’s the anonymity. I don’t know who you are. You don’t know who I am. It’s perfect, right? I mean, just if you want to vent. I won’t judge.”

And you did. You really wanted to vent.

“Is it so bad to want to sleep with your boyfriend?” you said. “Or just, just to have him hold you at night? Or to grab his attention for more than just the 20 minutes that we’re home alone? Like, Jesus Christ do I need a sign flashing above my head that says I’m here? Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t even see me. All we do is watch movies and play video games. I can’t even remember the last time we went out to dinner or just talked. We’re like an old married couple, except we’re only 18. It’s annoying!”

“Why don’t you break up with him?” Spider-Man asked. You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Because I love him,” you said, “and I know he loves me. And that’s what really matters in the end, you know? Like as long as there’s love, we can still get better.”

Spider-Man was quiet, and you were suddenly embarrassed that you had said something. He was staring blankly at the skyline. “No judging, right?” you said. Spider-Man snapped his head in your direction.

“No, of course not,” he said. “Just thinking. You’re pretty mature for an 18-year-old.”

You scoffed, “Yeah well, I felt pretty childish when I stormed out of my boyfriend’s apartment.”

“I’m sure he’s not upset,” he said. You shrugged and looked at your phone for the time. It was nearing 10:00, and you were getting tired. Spider-Man, noticing your demeanor shift, stood up from where you were both sitting. “I should go,” he said. “I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I, I actually appreciated it.” Spider-Man gave you a nod and a short wave and swung off the fire escape.

The next morning, you were woken up by your phone ringing. You groaned and squinted against the sudden bright light. “Peter,” you groaned. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 10:00,” he said with a laugh. “What’re you doing still asleep?”

“Dunno,” you said, wiping the sleep from your eyes. “What’re you calling for?”

“I’ll be over at 11:00,” he said, offering up no explanation. “Get ready.”

“What do you-”

Peter hung up with no further explanation, leaving you confused and staring at your phone.

Nevertheless, you got out of bed and hopped in the shower. It was warm out, again, so you threw on a white off-shoulder dress with little blue dots on it. You blow dried your hair and straightened it, applying a little bit of make-up and some lipstick. By the time you were ready, sliding on your tan sandals, there was a knock at your door. You were borderline confused. Peter always texted you when he got to your apartment. Door-to-door service? What did this boy have up his sleeve? You ran over to the front door and opened it, coming face-to-face with Peter. He was holding a bouquet of daisies, your favorite flower, and was wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He looked at you with soft eyes, smiling widely after scanning your outfit from head to toe. You felt your cheeks turn pink as you smiled at him. “For you,” he said, handing you the flowers.

“Thanks,” you said. “Let me go put them in a vase, and we can go.”

Did Peter feel bad about the day before? Did you make him feel bad? As annoyed as you were, your goal hadn’t been to hurt his feelings. You were just frustrated.

As soon as you were out of your apartment complex, Peter grabbed your hand, giving it a small squeeze. “You look really pretty,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said. “You’re being awfully sweet today.”

“Am I not allowed to treat my girlfriend?” he asked.

“Course you are,” you said with a grin. “It’s a pleasant surprise.”

The rest of your day was perfect in every way. You started off with brunch at one of your favorite cafes. Then, you went to the Central Park Zoo. Sure, it was a little touristy, but Peter knew how much you loved it there. You fawned over all the animals, smiling brightly the whole time. Peter watched you more than he did the animals. After the zoo, you went bowling. Peter was horrible at bowling, and so were you. Not as horrible as him, but still not good. The reason he picked that date, you figured, was because it was the first date the two of you had ever been on. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was hoping you would catch on. You smiled and placed a kiss to his cheek.

For dinner, you went to your favorite pizza place. At this point, you were on cloud nine. Any tension that had been between the two of you the day before was long forgotten. You hadn’t been on a date like this with Peter … ever. As the two of you sat and talked while eating pizza, you remembered what had happened the night before and, knowing how much he loved Spider-Man, you wanted to tell him all about it. “Oh my god, you’ll never guess who I met yesterday,” you said. Peter just raised his eyebrow at you. “Spider-Man!” Peter choked on his water and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Really?” His voice cracked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “He came to my window because his spidey senses thought I was in danger or something. And guess what?”

“What?” he said.

“He was flirting with me,” you said. “He was really bad at it, but he was still doing it.” Peter opened his mouth and closed it again. “Don’t worry,” you said. “I told him I had a boyfriend.” Peter just laughed and nodded. The conversation was dropped, and the two of you enjoyed the rest of your meal.

On your way home, you expected Peter to drop you off at your apartment and head on home. Instead, he invited himself in. You both sat on the couch, and you reached for the TV remote. Before you could even as him if there was a film he wanted to watch, Peter said, “I have to tell you something.” You swallowed thickly, nerves building in your tummy. Had all of this just been an extravagant way to break up with you? Like when you give your dog the best last day before you take them to the vet and put them down?

“Okay,” you said. “What’s, what’s wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Peter said. “I just, I can’t keep lying to you.”

“Lying to me?” you said. “What-”

“I don’t have an internship with Mr. Stark,” he said.

“You, you don’t?” you stuttered. Your eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, are you cheating on me?”

“What?” Peter said. It was his turn for his eyes to grow wide. “No. No I’m not cheating on you! I’m Spider-Man.”

You stared at him blankly, your jaw dropped. “You’re, you’re what?” you said. “No you’re not.”

“I am,” Peter said.

“No you’re not,” you said. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he said. “I can prove it to you.”

“How?” you said. 

“I love you,” Peter said. “And you love me. And as long as there’s love, we can still get better, right? That’s what you said. To me. Last night.”

You shot up from the couch and covered your mouth with your hands. You stared at him, eyes too wide to be deemed normal, stunned in silence. Finally, you shouted, “What the fuck! What the fuck! You’re fucking Spider-Man? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry!” Peter said. “I just, I’m really bad at keeping my identity a secret, and Mr. Stark told me I should work on it.”

“Oh my fucking god,” you said. “You’re an Avenger. What the fuck? You let me tell you so much yesterday!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a betrayal of trust!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I know I shouldn’t have done that. If it’s any consolation though, that’s what made me want to tell you.”

“What did?”

“You were so, you were so honest,” he said. “And even though you were being honest with Spider-Man and not Peter, it made me realize that I needed to be honest with you in every aspect of my life. Like, like I don’t spend the night here because I’m always on patrol.”

“Patrol?”

“I, you know, I go around town and make sure everything’s okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “That’s why I could never come over or have you over. Then you’d know where I go at night and what I do.”

“Oh,” you said. Suddenly, everything was coming together, and you felt stupid for not seeing it before. Stark internship my ass. You were dating a superhero.

“Now,” he said, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheek. “Now that you know.” He brought his lips to yours, letting his breath fan over you. You closed your eyes and breathed in through your nose. “Now I’m all yours.” You fell back from the force Peter used to kiss you. You were laying down, your head on the arm of the couch, and your legs wrapped around his waist. You didn’t even care that your dress was completely revealing your underwear. You thrived off of it. Peter’s kiss was rushed, and you started to wonder just how long he had been waiting for this. While you were throwing yourself at him, he had to use his super strength to hold himself back.

Super strength.

Fuck me.

You pressed your heels into the small of his back and lifted yourself to rub against his crotch. He let out a throaty moan and grabbed your thigh in his hand, trying to bring you as close to him as he could. “Okay, okay,” you said, pulling your lips away from his. “Bedroom. Now.” Peter nodded, so the two of you got up from the couch and headed to your bedroom.

In a perfect world, you would not be losing your virginity on a twin sized bed. But, as the Rolling Stones once said, you can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.

And you needed Peter. Badly.

You had one question on your lips, but you didn’t know how to ask it without totally killing the mood. Still, you needed the answer out in the open. So, rather than sit and think of a smoother way to ask it, you blurted out, “Are you a virgin?” Peter’s expression softened. His eyes that had been full of lust were now only filled with love.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah I am. Are, are you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed with a nod.

“And you want to do this?” he asked. You nodded.

“Yeah,” you said. “I do. So much.”

Peter smiled. “Me too.”

The two of you sat on the bed in front of each other, both of you criss-cross-applesauce. You reached forward and grabbed the hem of Peter’s shirt, pulling it over his head. You felt that familiar warmth all of your body that you got when Peter called you princess. You had seen him with his shirt off before, but knowing what was going to come next made it all feel different. Peter took the bottom of your dress and helped you pull it over your head.

While you had seen Peter shirtless plenty of times, he had never seen you in such little clothing. He didn’t count swimsuits where everyone got to see you that way. This -you in a white, lace covered strapless bra and plain white cotton panties- was all for him. That made it different.

You made the next move of reaching for Peter’s jeans. He helped you undo them and tug them off his body, leaving both of you in your underwear. You could tell Peter was nervous, so you pulled him in for a kiss. With your lips still pressed to each other’s, you reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, then tossed it off to the side. Peter, noticing right away the new lack of clothing, pulled away from you and laid you down on the bed. His eyes scanned over your chest for only a moment before he started kissing along the newly exposed skin. You felt your heart racing wildly against your chest, and you threaded your fingers in his hair as soon as he brought his lips around your nipple. He sucked the hard bud between his teeth, nipping it slightly. “Pete,” you whimpered. You breathed heavily through your parted lips. He switched to the other nipple, treating it exactly as he had the first. While keeping his lips on your chest, he brought his hand down to the front of your underwear. “Jesus Christ,” you said, lifting your hips up to meet his fingers.

Peter had never done this before. Never touched a girl anywhere under the clothes. Now here he was, figuring out along the way what you liked. Sure, he had watched porn before, but it never really seemed like the girls were getting what they really wanted. So yeah, maybe he had done some googling. He just wanted to make sure you were satisfied. So far, it seemed like his research was getting him an A. Peter could feel how wet you were through your underwear.

Peter hooked his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down your legs. You squirmed at the simple action, pressing your thighs together. Having none of that, Peter got off the bed and grabbed your thighs, pulling them apart. He crouched down, now level with you, and took a moment to stare at your core. You were glistening, and all for him. With his senses all dialled to eleven, he could smell you the minute you got to the bedroom. Now, this close to you, you made his mouth water. “Peter,” you whimpered. He snapped out of his daze and looked up at you. “Please do something. Please.” A part of him didn’t want to. Seeing you beg for him made his dick twitch. Still, he just nodded and started kissing up your leg.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he muttered against your skin.

(The googling told him to compliment her, which was an easy task for him.)

He kissed your hip bone, across your tummy, and down your other thigh. He kept bringing his lips close to where you wanted him most, but never quite got there. “So wet and ready for me.” Just when you thought he was finally going to put his lips to work, he brought them back up your body and kissed you on the mouth. You tangled your fingers in his hair and kissed him back weakly. You couldn’t concentrate, only being able to think about how badly you wanted him to touch you. As he kissed down your body again, you felt his fingers graze your folds.

“Shit,” you whispered. Your chest was heaving as you breathed rapidly.

“You really are soaked,” he said. “And all for me.”

Peter breathed hotly over your clit, causing your body to literally jerk at the new feeling. Just when you were about to beg again for his touch, you felt his tongue lick your folds. You let out a soft moan and screwed your eyes shut.

It was official. Peter loved this. The way his mouth alone could get you squirming off the bed made him feel powerful. He pushed his tongue past your folds and started moving it in circles. He noticed you whimpered the most when his tongue passed over your clit, so he pulled back and tentatively flicked it with his tongue. You jerked and let out a strangled, “Fuck.”

“Does that feel good, princess?” he asked. He didn’t even look up at you when he said that. He couldn’t draw his eyes away from your sopping core. He noticed your pussy clenched when he called you princess.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, please, I need more.”

Peter grinned and rolled your clit around with his tongue again. He decided to be bold and slid a finger into you. You moaned again and gripped Peter’s hair in your hands. “Pete,” you whined. “Oh my god, Peter.” He loved the way you moaned his name. He quickly decided there was no better sound in the world.

“What more can I do?” he asked. He wanted you to cum. He desperately wanted to see you come apart because of him.

“Can, can you,” you struggled to speak between your gasped. “Can you add another finger? And, and try-” You moaned when Peter slid another finger into you. “Yes,” you cried. “Yes, just like that, Pete.”

“What else?”

“Suck my clit,” you said. “Please, please.”

The dirty words made him groan, and his dick was throbbing in his boxers. He focused on you and did as you asked, sucking your clit between his lips. You practically screamed out in pleasure. Watching you come apart because of him was better than any porn he had ever watched. “Pete, I’m gonna cum,” you said. Peter didn’t let up, continuing to suck at your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. And then, you came. You called his name as more of a whimper and tugged his hair more roughly than you had before. Your thighs tensed around his head, and your head dug into the pillow.

Peter let you ride out your high, watching you in awe. He pulled his lips away from you and slowed the movement of his fingers. You were so blissed out that you jumped when Peter placed a kiss to your lips. You lazily kissed him back, your entire body feeling spent. Peter could tell and tried to fight the smile on his face. You didn’t notice him get out of bed until he came back and tapped your thigh. “Sit up, princess,” he cooed. “Let’s put some clothes on.” You nodded, in a haze, and sat up. Peter slid your new underwear up your legs, then lifted your arms up so he could pull a shirt on your body. You laid down as soon as the clothes were on and reached your arms out for Peter. He chuckled and laid down beside you, pulling his arms around you. “You did so good, princess,” he said.

“Wait,” you said, fighting your body to open your eyes. “We still have to have sex.” You sat up and straddled Peter’s waist. “Sex me up, babe. I’m ready.” You rested your head on his shoulder as a yawn took over your body. Peter just laughed and helped you lay back down.

“As tempting as that is,” he teased, “that can wait for another day.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked.

“We’re going to schedule sex now?” he asked. You pouted, and Peter laughed again and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Sure, (Y/N). Tomorrow. Just go to sleep.”

“I love you,” you said. You were so exhausted, your voice came out as a soft mumble. You pressed a single kiss to his chest. Again, Peter smiled.

“I love you, too,” he said. “My princess.”

[maljic]

i have been working in the grocery industry practically my entire life. for many companies, and in many many positions. i’ve seen hurricane panic buys, i have seen post hurricane apocalypses, i have closed stores, and i have opened stores. i have been to backroom recoveries, i have worked small stores and big stores. i have seen h1n1, and i have now seen covid19. and even tho this is something unprecedented, all together it’s really not. the difference here is that it’s been going on for three weeks now and there is no end in sight. the duration is what’s so new. 

so i’ve started making notes every day after i got home. just the overall experience, but also customer comments and new things being implemented. it’s a fascination change, and i wanted to write it down to maybe sometime in the future come back to this time and remember anew. 

i plan on keeping notes for the foreseeable future, to keep writing a diary of sorts, to see if this ever levels out or escalates even more, if things change drastically or not at all. and if the fucking toilet paper situation ever goes away. 

things started to change the first week of march. it was super subtle, i didn’t even notice it at first. it was just a steady increase in business. a solid 20% ahead in sales all across the board. and even tho the virus was already in the news it didn’t cotton on right from the start. or it did, maybe, but i wasn’t expecting it to escalate to such heights.

tuesday, 03.10.2020 9am - 5pm

people are making their own hand sanitizer by mixing rubbing alcohol and aloe vera. we’re out of both. lady is asking me by the sun tan section about the state of deliveries of aloe vera gel. we get to talking. i admit that i don’t understand the people’s need for hand sanitizer since the cdc and every doctor ever recommends hand washing first and foremost. Susan comes out and says, ‘well the only thing that really can safe us from all this is...” and i retort with, “washing your hands, right?” but Susan claps back with, “the lord jesus christ.” and i had to excuse myself real quick and leave her ass on the aisle, because why are you fucking here then trying to potion together your own hand sanitizer, Severus, if all you need is god? 

a grown woman that’s working at the register is. coughing. non. stop. co workers comment on it to each other and to me, and i wonder if anyone has taken her aside to explain the current state of world events to her, and maybe asking her to cover her damn mouth. we’re all gonna die.

thursday, 03.12.2020 2pm - 10pm 11pm

parking is an absolute nightmare. i’m 10 mins late cause i can’t find a spot. welcome to hell. i ask my boss what the sales were yesterday and she says we’re 40% ahead of the forecast. which is ridiculous. at this point it’s pretty much a blanket permission for over time. we do not have the capacity to continue to run at this pace. people get worn out, we’re bound to get sick, and the customers are fucking relentless. truck is big. Karen and her brother Chad look at the soap section and wanna know when we get more hand sanitizer in. 

this lady is looking at things in the cold and flu section and we get to talking about shit and she mentions something she’s read on facebook and whoops my filter went poofgone and i tell her that i hope facebook dies along with all this corona virus flu and have a good evening.

at the end of my shift after we’ve finished stocking and cleaning up, i stay longer because there’s still a fuck ton of people in the store but we only have two registers open. i check people out until 11 and then peace out. one dude dropped $650 on groceries.

friday, 03.13.2020 11am - 7pm

“where is the hand sanitizer?” Karen asks. i refrain from shouting at her to get outta my face. the store is absolutely packed. lines of lengths i haven’t ever witnessed. lines and lines of people with full bascarts of stuff. the end is nigh and we are here with a front row view of it. we have a small parking lot, and i have no idea where these people’s cars are? i didnt know we could fit that many people in the store. whats the fire marshall’s max capacity guidelines? someone should review those. meanwhile i’m trying to navigate around everybody and put things on shelves that don’t last very long.

the grocery truck arrives around 3 ish and paper products get thrown out first. usually, when the truck arrives it stays locked until the night crew shows up. we’re set up to always have a trailer at the store, so when the guy shows up he unhitches his trailer, and hitches up under another trailer which was the previous day’s grocery truck, which got emptied off groceries when the night crew stocks, and then got filled with stacks of empty pallets, paper bales, and other reusable thinks like plastic trays the meat comes in, or the eggs come in, or produce plastic trays, things like that. so now that we’re in the apocalypse of paper products, the day crew gets those pallets out on the sales floor asap. at this point we have reduced the quantities of things you’re allowed to take to 3. 3 packs of toilet paper, 3 packs of paper towels... also 3 of lysol wipes and 3 of hand sanitizers even tho we dont have any, calm down, Karen. paper products are gone within an hour. 

my company makes an absolute killing that day.

saturday, 03.14.2020 10ish to whenever. 

my boss said she was coming in (on her off day) so i said yo, mind if i sleep in a bit? i was scheduled 7am and if i don’t have to i don’t want to. she said ok. i rock up at 10:08. things stop showing up on deliveries. the diaper area is sad looking. people have started to buy us out of baby wipes. there’s a problem coming at us in about 2 months. you cant flush baby wipes but since the toilet paper situation is what it is, people will wipe their butts with wet wipes. have fun with that, dallas county utility department (or whoever messes with the water wastes). 

displays are dwindling. we are not getting product, so we are filling the shelves in the aisles with the stuff that’s on displays. it’s a bit wonky looking. there’s half an endcap with shampoo and then the rest of it is filled with hersheys. its upside down world. but we have to keep things full. with whatever. empty shelves are bad bad bad, but empty endcaps are a cardinal sin. 

people waste so much food when they’re shopping. now that the shelves are getting and staying empty, people will just put things everywhere when they decide against buying the items. bags of chips, six packs of beer, gatorade whatever. that’s not really waste. but we also see bags of salad, frozen items, meats. we are currently not in the position to walk the store every half hour and collect these things. these things are all now wasted and will get thrown out. not the chips, i’m talking about the temp controlled things. being cold to the touch is not enough. shit aint safe. 

monday, 03.16.2020 8am - 4 pm 6pm

truck is gigantic. never ever have i seen a truck that big. so everything that my boss was fantasizing about me doing gets thrown out the window when the truck hits the backdoor at 11 am. everybody who is scheduled for truck is given the option to come in early. and stay until it’s all stocked. or until you’re exhausted. i help with the pharmacy stuff because that’s the biggest part. i stay until 6pm. then i’m out. 

people would like to know where the hand sanitizer is, well, sugar, so. do. i. it’s the one item that has been out since the end of february, and people are absolutely gob smacked when you tell them it’s currently unavailable. i try to appease them with some hand soap, but, stupidly, people dont want to hear that. i’m thinking to myself that in about a week soap will also be unavailable, but to each their own. customers believe that we, the workers, know the exact day and time when lysol wipes will be stocked. but when you tell them that soap is getting scarce they look at you like you’re speaking a different language.

company wide, we are not allowed to order anything right now. which is huge. how it usually works is: our system knows at all times how many items we have in the store, as per bar code, and knows how much will fit on the shelves, how much we’re selling every day/hour, and then there’s the forecasting factor. so the system will order stuff based on sold quantities, automatically. all the time. if we need extra stuff for sales and/or displays and whatnot, we order extra. 

the computer system wouldnt know, for instance, that there was a tornado in oct that wiped out our electricity and that of most of our customers, so we changed orders to reflect that. no frozen things, lots more batteries, ice, coolers. 

a lot of things ride on added orders, which are now out

from here on in, everything is up to the system, and to the powers that be. if there’s soap in the warehouse, we will get allocated with every store in the area so that everyone gets equal amounts or close to. hoarding is, apparently, frowned upon at this level too. 

tuesday, 03.17.2020 2pm - 10pm

i have come to hate the soap aisle. used to always be my favorite. so long, soap aisle, we’ve had a good run. tonight i’m stocking the pharmacy area (cold and flu, pain meds, tummy stuff, those sort of things). truck is small. super small. i try helping customers as much as i can, but most of my end of the conversation is no, sorry, we dont have any. backstocks are dwindling. the backroom is emptying out. we rely on truck deliveries for things to do and products to be put out. “do you have any [insert product here] in the back?” is the most asked questions. “there’s nothing in the back.” is the most uttered sentence all day. 

people obviously do to not get what social distance means. every aisle is packed with shoppers. i’m wasting a lot of time trying to stay out of people’s paths, but people lingeeeerrrrr what the fuck. the mayor of dallas shut everything down to flatten the curve yet here all these fuckers are doing their god damn grocery shopping like it’s 3 months ago. get in, get stuff, get out. i try conjuring up some gas to clear the aisle, but the farts won’t come

go home, people. i wish i could.

somehow our store has become the hub in our area. we get trucks in the afternoon with produce and meat, and people from other stores around us show up in trucks and suvs to transport product between stores. i’ve seen so many people that i hadn’t seen in years because they’re coming by getting shit in the afternoon. 

we lost one of our baristas. she’s retired but works with us the maximal allotted hours per week the government allows you before they yank your money. she’s living in senior housing (cause its cheap) and they’ve completely locked down and she is unable to come to work. her boss funnels her groceries. and they face time a lot. she’s doing ok.

wednesday, 03.18.2020 10am - 6pm

parking lot semi full, too full for a wednesday. toilet paper situation is unchanged. but alas there’s no grocery truck scheduled tonight so this is not changing until tomorrow. i’m talking to three separate people desperate for some toilet roll (lol, i love how this pandemic makes me learn new terms, hi, united kingdom, i see you - toilet roll, i love it). anyways, i explain to all three the truck schedule and how to best strategize to get some butt wipes: truck is 6 days a week, wednesday being the no truck day. when the truck arrives, usually what happens is that the paper products get stocked immediately, to make room in the back room and to alleviate the situations. be in the store at around 3ish? 3:30ish, and hang out. i explain that i don’t want to encourage anybody to spend their afternoon in the store for obvi reasons, but when you gotta go you gotta go. alternately, hang out in your car, and when you see a truck pull behind the store around mid day, chances are in about 30 mins you shall have paper. people appreciate the info. 

i’m in the candy aisle trying to stock a case of twizzlers. we’re using shopping carts to stock, it’s way more flexible than lugging around huge stocking carts, especially now with the store being so crowded. this dude rocks up and asks me if i’m panic hoarding with all those boxes in my cart. he looks at me with a straight face and thinks he’s making a point. meanwhile i’m in full uniform and people around are starting to roll their eyes. i drop the box of twizzlers into my cart (its super heavy and dude is creating a scene). my box cutter comes out and i make a show of clicking the blade out while explaining to douche canoodle that i’m working here, excuse me, and cut into the tape of the box. moron. 

there’s a few people that i’ve seen every day this week. and they’re all advanced in their age. i get that the store is your second home cause you’re lonely, but right now is really not the time. go home. 

the question i hate the most is: when are you gonna get more soap in. the honest answer? no fucking clue, Karen. if i could predict the future i wouldn’t be working here. 

thursday, 03.19.2020 10am - 6pm

there was no grocery truck last night so shelves are still as empty as they were when i left last night. still, parking lot is semi full. we’ve seem to have gotten a decent produce truck, bananas everywhere. great. my boss’s plan for me is to: whatever truck is back there, and then easter. which means i walk the back room, collect anything and everything that belongs to our department, and get it on the shelves. there’s nothing back there except a chocolate delivery which arrived on the dairy truck. a huge amount, by normal standards. at least people are still enjoying some candy. 

by 3pm it’s made the rounds that one of the guys for our dept isn’t coming in: allergies. okay then. truck is not too big, i help out with that until it’s time to hit the time clock. 

times are tough, and i’m a good-natured person that can dish out jokes and emphasize with you and cumbaja we’re all in this together and all the other bullshit we’re telling ourselves to make us feel better. but when dudebro comes down the soap aisle and bemoans the state of the shelves (empty) and then goes into a rant about his two parents, immunocompromised, at home, out of soap, almost getting loud and making it seem like its my fault that we don’t have what you want, then no. i’m all out of fucks to give. meanwhile, people of the free world, have you forgotten that hand washing soap does not only come in little pump bottles that you can cutsify your sink with but also LOOK AT ALL THE BARSOAP, back in the days we used that to wash our hands. calm down and take some irish spring to your parents. 

grocery truck arrives. big time. in the good ole days of yester year we would get one trailer daily, most of the time not even full. we’ve been ramping it up to 2 most of the last two weeks. (and by we i mean we as a society, buying everything on the shelves and not being satisfied and always wanting more).  today it was three. one of which with nothing but water. the others with lots of toilet roll and paper towels. and the usual stuff of canned goods and the likes. nothing will last tho, nothing is forever. 

we have this one guy who works here who has, i believe, severe arthritis and is hygiene wise very challenged. he isn’t very mobile and does super light duty but he’s worked here a long time. i haven’t seen him in a few days. i wonder if he is just off, or if he said fuck it and stayed home. 

the grown ass woman at the register is still coughing. and not covering her mouth. asswipe. 

saturday 03.21.2020 7am - 3pm 6pm

“when do you expect more hand sanitizer in?” 

i have no idea what you’re talking about, hand sanitizer was never a thing. lemme ask you this: is it berenstein bears where you come from? 

people still want to shop brand loyal. i die inside a little bit every time someone turns their nose up at an alternative to their regular, “oh but we don’t use that brand.” dude didn’t you just say you needed vitamin c? was that a lie? here’s the damn vitamin c. it’s vitamin c, not, i don’t know, fucking coca cola. go home.

corporate finally came down and said we’re allowed to wear ppe now. like some of us haven’t since three weeks ago. i finally turned and went all ‘two by two hands of blue’ as well, and it’s really not as bothersome as i thought it would be.  

weekends are now slower than weekdays. i have no idea why that is. and i’m not really sure if these past weekends have been slow, or just normal, and the weekdays are just crazy. i have lost all points of reference. it’s still busy. but is it the same busy it’s always been on a saturday and now we just have more checkers? 

the company is desperately trying to hire more people. i don’t know if the new vigorous ad campaign is working yet? it’s a job, sure, especially in these times, but the starting pay is still barely above minimum wage so in any case people will collect unemployment which could still be more than they’d make working here i’m just saying. 

the only real perk right now is that whoever works for a grocery store has first dibs on stuff. and if you believe we don’t have a “family and friends stash” in the back of all the items that are scarce then you don’t know how the world works. a friend of mine with health problems came to shop at our store today because we do have more stuff than what i’ve been hearing is going on in surrounding areas.  and i was able to give her two cans of disinfectant wipes. another friend asked me if we had any loo roll, and they just came by my place to pick it up, cash on arrival. 

we also extend (or well, i do extend) the stash to customers who always have been courteous. and believe me, after working in one location for a few years you know exactly who’s an asshole and who isn’t. we are essential, we are important, and we’ve been known that forever. we just never got treated like that. people are thankful that we’re working, that we’re doing our best (like if we could afford to just take two weeks off to self isolate, yeah right), and it’s good to finally walk the store with your head held high, to finally feel the appreciation. we are the kings of the toilet paper and it’s fucking fantastic. 

the store manager (or the company, i’m not sure) bought lunch today for everybody. and there might be a texas rule of no gatherings of more than 10 people, but y’all should’ve seen the break room today at noon. we they feasted (i took two slices and went out back to enjoy) thanks for lunch, boss. 

we still haven’t implemented “senior hours,” and i hate that. 

hygiene challenged dude is back at work. so he just had his two days off. 

monday 03.23.2020 12pm - 9pm

people keep insisting on shopping “normally” and it’s mind boggling. if you go to the store for 5 things or 50 things, it’s fine either way. but please make a list at home and roll with it. do not linger in aisles, do not pick up 3 different items and stand there to study the, i don’t know what the fuck, ingredients? country of origin? manufacturer? i have no earthly idea why you gotta look at a bottle of suave shampoo so intently and just. stay. there. reading it like its a new product on the market. go home.

people just waste so much freakin time in the store. they run into acquaintances and have to have a conversation right there when other customers have to walk around you. please stop, please please stop that. please. get in, get your stuff, and get out. if we dont have your fave available right now come back next week, it’s bound to be back unless it’s something like hand sanitizer or over the counter meds. please. go home.

the shopping pattern has changed. there’s all the action in the mornings now. tons of people, full parking lots, all in the morning. i understand it’s because people are under the impression everything gets restocked over night. which is half true. but whatever. i mean people shop all throughout the day and it’s still busy but the bulk is in the morning.

speaking of: senior hours finally!!! i’m stoked.

i feel like i’m getting fed up with customer questions so it’s usually short retorts and no eyes contact. one guy asked me where the aloe vera is and he asked very friendly and from a few feet away and i was sort of a dick to him. i felt bad immediately and rephrased my answer. yikes.

on the upside also, my work buddy was throwing water all day long. poor guy. he said something like 9 pallets of 24 packs. at one point they were replenishing a display and people grabbed water from the display instead of the pallet, and he was like, “you guys are killing me, man, please take it from the pallet and not the display. every pack you take from the pallet is a pack less i have to move.” a couple of dudes then took over stocking duty from him and threw the rest of the pallet to fill the display. how fucking nice. good eggs all around.

backroom looks like we got a crap ton of paper products. a crap ton. something like, i’m estimating, 12 pallets. so they’ve been staggering it throughout the afternoon but also kept lots in the back for senior hours tomorrow morning. it really looks like that part is getting almost back to normal. lmao fingers crossed.

no eggs tho, today. all gone.

hot shot trucks still show up in the afternoon with produce and meat. and other stores still come by to transfer stuff to their location.

company lunch today was from torchy’s taco. i abstained cause i had just eaten at home. but gatherings of 10 or more people had been had in the break room again. no idea if it was paid for by our company or if torchy’s was just getting rid of a bulk of their perishables.

some dude threw a fit about the limits on certain items. i think his beef was with water and how he’s seen someone take more than three. calm down, asshole.

tuesday 03.24.2020 10am - 5pm 

it’s slow in the store. dallas county has a shelter in place ordinance right now and it’s just a slow and steady trickle of customers. the weather also has turned from grey and misty, to sunshine and 80ies. i hate it. i want my grey and misty back. and because it’s nice outside there’s a lot of people on walks and bike rides. there’s a trail behind the store and when i step out back i see people all the times. still keeping their social distance but people non the less.

we’ve finally got our hands on one of the people from the agency that has provided us with help. our girl is super nice and friendly and she works hard. i hope we’ll get to keep her in our department for however long theyre working with us. altogether there’s about 15-20 people in the store from the agency. they’re tasked with sacking groceries, cleaning shopping carts, cleaning shelves and helping to stock. it’s wonderful. they get paid $13, which is more than what you make starting out in the store.

it almost felt like it wasn’t a covid day. after what the covidiot in the wh said on monday, i was a bit unsure if non essentials would reopen (especially since the mayor just shut dallas down). it was weird. it seemed like customers stayed away because a) they went back to work or b) it’s too nice to grocery shop. but that’s prob only my stupid brain making things up.

there were two incidents, both of which weren’t covid related but needed security: a dude tried to walk out with two cases of beer (theft is a thing that happens in our store a lot) but somehow he had half the store chasing after him. i was outside taking my break when all the sudden this guy comes towards me with beer in each hand. where i was, there was no exit away from the store unless you wanted to jump the fence. and he sure did. launched himself and the beer over it. they chased him off (no one touched him, i wanna add, and no one would touch him too, even if we weren’t in the current time),  but got their beer back. that was an adrenaline shock i didn’t need. the second one was a lady at the pharmacy not happy with the speed of the pharmacist and she got upset that her meds weren’t ready to be picked up. she made quite a scene with cursings and such so security was called. they are doing their best at the pharmacy but just like every other department they are swamped with prescriptions.  

it was super slow and i left an hour early. went home and ate and passed out for 12 hours.

wednesday 03.25.2020 7am - 3pm

it’s probs the first time i’m on the road this early on a weekday during the self isolation period. it’s quite busy on the highway. but still no real traffic.

store is still slow but steady. i see a few customers with big bascarts and shopping lists going about their business urgent like. on the inside i was applauding their readiness and their commitment for getting it done. thank you dear customers. buy a whole cart and get the heck outta dodge. *chefs kiss*

help girl from the agency is with me today. i like her more and more. she gets it all done. baby wipes are still off and on, some days we have them, sometimes we’re out. we found 3 small cases of hand soap in the back (6 bottles each) and they are gone quickly. i’m working through shippers/displays (we’ve finally got a smattering in) but most of it goes straight to the shelves. i’m able to make some sense to one of the half shampoo/half hersheys end caps, and my eye finally stops twitching from the weirdness.

grocery truck schedule has changed and now we’re getting them also on wednesdays (for the time being). one trailer of toilet roll and paper towels, and one of canned goods and boxes and pantry stuffs. and maybe some lysol but who knows.

it’s still sunny and 80ies out, so more runners and bikers on the trail behind the store. still social distancing tho.

the news said someone from a grocery store of another chain was diagnosed. and then through the grapevine i heard that someone from our chain (not our store) also got diagnosed and is in the hospital. wash your hands. get in, get your stuff, and get out. stay safe out there.

friday 03.27.2020 9am - 5pm

there’s this lady in the store, little old lady, just wandering and shopping and whatnot for, i kid you not, 2 hours. what in the world? she’s wearing a mask, kinda like a “let me put this mask on cause i’m sanding something in the garage” you know that kind of mask. but it’s only covering her mouth? what is she doing. where is your family? do they know where you are and what you’re up to. seriously someone come get their auntie.

there’s stickers all over the floor by the registers “PLEASE WAIT HERE” reminding people to stay the heck away from each other. it’s working sometimes. people are patient.

this one lady asks me if we have this, and shows me her phone with a pic of the item like she is seriously standing 6 feet away stretching her arm as far as it’ll go. i appreciate it. she insists that the app tells her it’s in stock here. i ran out of ways to explain that the app doesnt keep up with inventory, only states that we carry it, not whether we actually have it in stock. it’s a surface disinfectant. we dont have it in stock.

rando people say their thanks that we’re working, that they appreciate it, thank you thank you. i have yet to learn how to respond to that. “youre welcome?” “oh sure!” “no problem” nothing feels right. me and my co workers all wish we could work from home, or take a few weeks off, without losing our jobs and benefits. it’s weird. how do you respond to that?

we’ve managed to stay in stock on toilet tissue all day long. one brand, one size, mind you. but! all day long! yes, toilet paper, on aisle 18!!!!

sales have leveled. business is returning to normal.

saturday 03.28.2020 7am - 3 pm

some lady lost her cool today and in her frustration she dead ass kicked over a display of gum. lmao, yikes.

every morning we have a little meeting in the store for all the department heads, or if they’re off, for whoever plays department head for that day. on saturdays that’s me. we call them huddles, although now we can’t call them that anymore because huddle doesn’t really scream social distancing. so now they’ll call it morning communication.

while walking the store today i found, get this, a bottle of purell. it was hidden behind other product. i immediately checked my surroundings (no one there) and then went and hid it in the back room. my immuno challenged friend had asked me for some for a while.

really nothing else going on. it was quiet in the morning and then a storm blew through, and then it was just gorgeous out. so the store got busier and busier. our truck was scheduled to be quite big, but it was late and i wasn’t gonna just hang around until who knows when.

monday 03.30.2020 2pm - 10pm

the break room is completely empty of chairs and tables. that’s new. just last week everyone crowded in, employees and management alike, whenever there was free lunch. and even tho one tells them, or points out that, hey, this is a bit more than technically should be in a closed space like this? all one gets back is, oh hahaha, yeah you’re probably right, but nothing changed. so now the break room is empty. only, i dont know, everyone here works on their feet, either standing (poor checkers) or standing and walking. for up to eight hours. there’s gonna be some people who will just have to sit down for 30 mins during their breaks. this was a company wide, or district wide decision, this wasn’t something our management came up with. and here’s the thing. admittedly, some higher ups in our company are seriously not the sharpest tacks in the box. and i’m not saying that you have to have a degree to make certain decisions, but it helps if you have some sort of,  i don’t know, compassion, deductive reasoning, two brain cells to rub together. i, personally, will hardly be found in the break room, i don’t use it. but it’s absolutely clear to me that taking away the opportunity to let people rest is a recipe for disaster.

tuesday, 03.31.2020 2pm - 10pm

so, the owner of the dallas mavericks (basket ball) donated hand sanitizers to our company, for use of company employees. which, thanks, Mark, that was super sweet of you. no really. IF I SEE ONE CO WORKER USE THIS INSTEAD OF WASHING THEIR HANDS I WILL NOT BE MADE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS. wash your god damned hands people. hand sanitizer will never be able to do what soap and water can do. why is that such a big problem to understand.

the break room has a couple of chairs and tables in it now, and a sign on the door that reads “6 people limit, 6 feet apart.” yikes.

its the end of the month and people got paid so the store is getting busier. tomorrow is the first and i’m sure we’ll be packed. please take the following to heart: SHOP ALONE. don’t bring your wifey or hubby or roommate or kids. ok bring your kids if you have no one to watch them. do not use the grocery store as your family outing cause its the only spot you think youre allowed to go. it’s not. youre allowed to go for walks, in front of your house, in your neighborhood, heck, walk a circle around the store if you want, but don’t bring everybody into the store. social distancing is easier achieved if there’s less people to stay away from. be smart, think ahead. and if you think that shopping with two people makes it go faster? it’s not. cause you’re gonna argue over the choices made, you’re gonna veto your shopping buddies choice of beans and your gonna walk every aisle twice instead of once. and there will be more people touching more things and i could really do with less of that.

wednesday 04.01.2020 11am - 7pm

there’s a distillery in kansas who has converted their production to make hand sanitizer (or sanitizer in general) and we have received a shipment of, i think, two pallets. the fun part? they are the size and shape of vodka bottles.

they’re selling for $8 and we put a limit of 1 per family. they look super neat. it’s a plastic bottle, too. i don’t use hand sanitizer and i dont need it and there are people who need these i guess but i want one so badly. just as a, you know, reminder, a token, of these crazy times. i’m not gonna get one (but i kinda want one).

they have finally installed screens at the registers. and new rules came down from corporate: social distancing is the highest priority, hygiene is the highest priority. we are only going to operate 3 (out of 6) registers so that we can ensure that there’s enough space for everyone to feel safe. i have also spent 2 hours today thinning out displays that are cluttering up the sales floor so that we can encourage everyone to keep apart.

starting tomorrow, every employee will get their temp taken when they arrive to work. if the temp is too high you will be sent home (but paid for that day) and only be let back in to work if your temp stays normal for 72 hours without the help of meds.

pay has been increased by $2/h.

friday 04.03.2020 9am - 5pm

face masks everywhere.

like 80% of everybody started donning masks, scarves and homemade things to cover their lower face. face masks are a stark reminder that everyone should keep apart. it’s like an extra “hey, remember how we’re all potentially sick with something deadly? stay away.” i appreciate the effect it has.

there are about 5 different announcements over the PA, one about washing your hands and sneezing/coughing into your elbows, one about senior hours (which have changed now to tue, thu and sat morning), one about social distancing (about the length of two shopping carts!), one about “we’re all in this together” and one about us employees and how we’re doing so much more than our job right now.

ive stopped greeting customers. i smile maybe, since it’s something so ingrained into our brain, but i won’t speak unnecessarily.

the store is absolutely packed. the suggestion of staying away until the 3rd or the 4th that ive seen all over the internets seems to have cottoned on and now we’re slammed. with only 3 registers open now (to keep room between registers) the lines are down the aisles. one of the guys on the registers told me he loved it. it’s waaay less crowding around the registers, safer for the workers).

we have two entrances (the main one and a smaller one) and they closed the smaller one because it’s very tight there and doesn’t really work with trying to stay away from each other. it’s not locked, it’s just closed. no idea about the fire marshall code, but i have worked in bigger stores with only one main entrance so maybe it’s not part of any code.

i saw a woman with a vegas golden knights shirt and i miss hockey.

saturday 04.04.2020 7am - 5:30pm

my first day during senior hours, and admittedly we’ve only recently changed that but there are tons of people in the store and not a lot of seniors. but what do i know they all could be immunocompromised.

in our morning huddle communications meeting the store manager is spitting out a lot of numbers and percentiles and such, basically sales are still through the roof, even with the slower week we’ve had. it’s funny how there’s really no reference point anymore. forecasts and budgets have all been altered due to the situation but even those are still behind. the agency people aren’t with us anymore (since sunday) and i can see maybe 2 new people - but i’m not a reliable source for that because i don’t inter-mingle with other departments that much so i dont even know the regulars so i have no clue who is new. but we’re still running on basically the same people we’ve always had with this increased business.

aceotone is the new toilet paper. cant find it on the shelves, the warehouse is out and people are constantly asking for it. this one guy had me in stitches. he was shopping for the fam and had a list from his wife and you know, acetone, cuticle cream all the stuff you need to take care of your nails after you rip off the fake ones. i used to get my nails done so i gave him advice as best i could  and pointed to some products, but no acetone. about five minutes later she finds me on the same aisle again and shows me a can of paint stripper with the word acetone in huge letters on it. i died. i told him that if his wife used that they are about to have a whole other set of problems. we both laughed. he had a great sense of humor. now go home, dude.

the side door that was closed on friday is open again. not surprised.

we are getting absolutely slammed with business. it’s a mad house. you can always tell when people start to park their cars on the fire lanes around the store. there’s just no more parking.

i do see a lot of single shoppers tho, which is so great. and then you got the families just sticking out like sore thumbs. and young college kids usually shop in threes or fours. but everybody is still taking way too much time. there was an article i read on local grocers and how some already reduced the people inside the stores and how every business is going to follow suit so we will see.

we ran out of eggs. and biscuits.  and no significant numbers of paper products all week.

monday 04.06.2020 2pm - 10pm

fuck these customers, man

wednesday 04.08.2020 7am - 3pm

my company will not limit the customer count in the store. at least not in this state. when the whole thing started there was an email about store hours and they listed basically every division of our company and their changed hours - except, you guessed it, ours. i have a feeling they are going off of what other companies are doing around here, so unless theyre limiting people, we won’t. that’s my opinion. after work i realized i forgot butter and swung by a store (from a different company) close to home and they havent limited entrance either. they did have markings on the floor to encourage one way traffic down aisles, and i guess we’re gonna do that too. but nothing else. i did see smaller chains have started to limit people but not companies we’re competing with. so much for that. i guess first we need to have a few positive cases in order for them to change anything. the dollar speaks volumes, eh?

i saw this article a few days ago and i keep thinking about it. it basically sums up everything that’s going through all our minds every day. (i have no idea who this website is, i saw it and i read it and it spoke to me so dont come at me if it’s something weird - i just wanted to provide a source)

I manage a grocery store.

Here’s some things everyone should know

1. I don’t have toilet paper 2. I don’t have sanitizer 3. I run out of milk, eggs and meat daily 4. I promise if it’s out on the shelf … it’s not in a hidden corner of our backroom.

Those are the predictable ones, now for the real stuff

5. I have been doing this for 25 years I did not forget how to order product. 6. I did not cause the warehouse to be out of product/ 7. I schedule as much help as I have, including many workers working TONS of overtime to help YOU. 8. I am sorry there are lines at the check out lanes.

Now for the really important stuff:

9. My team puts themselves in harm’s way every day so you can buy groceries. 10. My team works tirelessly to get product on the floor for you to buy. 11. My team is exhausted. 12. My team is scared of getting sick. 13. My team is human and does not possess an antivirus… they are in just as much danger as you are. (Arguably more) but they show up to work every day just so you can buy groceries 14. My team is tired. 15. My team is very under-appreciated. 16. My team is exposed to more people who are potentially infected in one hour than most of you will in a week (medical community excluded, thank you for all that you do!). 17. My team is abused all day by customers who have no idea how ignorant they are. 18. My team disinfects every surface possible, everyday, just so you can come in grab a wipe from the dispenser, wipe the handle and throw the used wipe in the cart or on the ground and leave it there… so my team can throw it in the trash for you later. 19. My team wonders if you wash your re-usable bags, that you force us to touch, that are clearly dirty and have more germs on them than our shopping carts do. 20. My team more than earns their breaks, lunches and days off. And if that means you wait longer I am sorry.

The last thing I will say is this:

The next time you are in a grocery store, please pause and think about what you are saying and how you are treating the people you encounter. They are the reason you are able to buy toilet paper, sanitizer, milk, eggs, and meat.

If the store you go to is out of an item.. maybe find the neighbor or friend that bought enough for a year … there are hundreds of them… and ask them to spare 1 or 2. They caused the problem to begin with…

And lastly, please THANK the people who helped you. They don’t have to come to work!

[kingofno-whereville]

I could really use a body swap right about now, and one of them finding some incriminating evidence that the other boy like him, and confronting him, but don't make it a long body swap, let's just sat they swap for like a few days, cause reasntly I read this other one and the body swap went on FOR-EVER

Billy had a rude awakening Wednesday morning but not in the way he was used to. Instead of a banging on his door and a yell to get up, it was the beep of an alarm clock. The last he checked he didn’t have an alarm clock. In his sleepy haze he’d thrown his blankets aside to see skinny legs in a pair of pajama pants. His heart could’ve jumped out of his chest. What the fuck?? He rubbed his eyes, looking around. That’s not his fucking room. He scrambled out of bed, running to the first mirror he saw in the room. 

Steve Harrington.

Okay so. This is just a dream. Has to be. He pinched his arm. Nothing. Shit. He wasn’t even going to bother trying to figure out what’s going on, he needed to find his body. What if Steve’s in there? He’s not lending his body to fucking Steve. He opened his drawers, looking for the least preppy outfit he could. Jeans, black button down that probably isn’t meant for casual outings, and a leather jacket he really didn’t expect to find. 

The clock read 7:15 am. He definitely had some time to explore the room. Why did Steve even wake up this early? He didn’t think he worked out, he would’ve noticed. He looked through drawers, finding the usual teenager things. Magazines. Lotion. The whole gambit. Yeah maybe he didn’t expect to see a men’s sport magazine under the porn magazine but hey that’s not his business. Billy would do that if he wasn’t so heavily monitored. He shut the drawer of the nightstand and moved onto the little shelf below the nightstand. Not much to see. Some records. A small box. He sat up on the bed(which he took the time to make, your welcome Harrington) and opened up the box. There were several photos of Steve and the kids. Steve and Nancy. Trinkets that probably meant something to Steve. Then alllll the way at the bottom was a picture of him and Steve. He recognized it right away. It was taken after they had won the basketball state championships, there was a crowd of people around them and Billy had hugged him in the excitement of the moment, someone with a camera nearby deciding that was a good moment to capture. He didn’t think Steve would save the photo. He set it back in the box and put the box away, moving onto the desk. He sat down in the chair, opening the first notebook he saw. It was some basic stuff like history notes. He flipped all the way to the end where he found some doodles and little notes.

stupid blond asshole

That had to be him. 

I wish he’d stop smirking at me like that.

He smiled, shutting the notebook. Sounds like someone’s a little frustrated. He wasn’t sure if it was just plain old frustration or sexual frustration but it made him pleased because that’s exactly what he was trying to provoke. he stood up and left the little room, shutting the door quietly behind him. The house was completely silent save for the ticking of a clock that got louder as he approached the kitchen. Jesus, where were his parents? He opened the fridge, grabbing out the carton of eggs.

He’d admit, it was kind of nice not having to rush to eat his food. He hated pulling up to school in the fucking Beemer. He had to tear apart the whole car just to find a cigarette just to find out that Steve doesn’t even have Marlboros, he’s got the weak shit. It was nice not getting bombarded by girls and Tommy. He could see the Camaro further up the parking lot so he started to head inside. He tried not to break into a run. He just wanted his body back. Sure enough he saw himself leaning up against his locker awkwardly. 

“Hey!” He called out. God he hated sounding like Harrington. He didn’t hate Harrington’s voice per say, but he hated that he had to use it until god knows when. It just doesn’t fit him. He could’ve screamed when he saw the get up Steve had him in. A sweatshirt he never wore, jeans, and his hair up. It looked pretty normal but it’s simply not how he dressed for school. Steve looked about ready to lose it himself, which is fair. Billy had to admit, he thought the outfit he picked out looked pretty hot. He watched Steve walk over before he grabbed Billy’s arm and yanked him into the nearest bathroom. 

“What the hell did you do to my hair?” That’s his concern? The hair?

“I made you look hot, you should be thanking me.” Steve just looked at him deadpan. Did his face really look like that? I mean damn Billy would admit he’s got the looks he knew that, but he just had this look settled in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No. If I did I would be trying to undo it instead of going to school.”

“Did you go through my shit?”

“Hardly. There’s no time to do anything in your house.” Billy’s heart practically jumped from his chest when he realized that Steve was actually in his house around his family for an hour at least. “Uh..you’re looking a little pale there man. You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna get mad if I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

“What’s your dad’s problem? The guy’s a complete asshole.” Billy felt like his world was falling apart around him.

“Uhm..he’s just like that.” He’s sure he could brush it off. “So what’re we gonna do until this is..undone or whatever?”

“I don’t know. Just pretend everything’s alright?”

“Okay then you can’t dress my up like that. It looks like I just got home from the artic or some shit.”

“And you can’t flirt with everyone who speaks to you.” Oh great, they’re getting into this part of the conversation.

“I don’t! Do not sleep with anyone.”

“I don’t know that seems out of character for you.” He felt like grabbing and pushing him against a wall but he knows Steve’s got the upper hand here being in Billy’s body. 

“You have to do the dishes after dinner every night. Nobodies gonna remind you but you don’t...just don’t forget to do the dishes. I’ll have my schedule written up hour by hour and we can trade homework after school. If I give you my notebooks you better fucking keep up with the notes in class and do NOT dent my c-”

“Billy! Jesus christ I got it. We can write up schedules and rules for each other.” 

Steve’s schedule and rules were much shorter than Billy’s. Billy spent at least 20 minutes writing and used 2 pieces of lined paper. Billy read over the schedule in the car, surprised to find that he shouldn’t be expecting Mr. and Mrs. Harrington until Saturday, if it even lasts that long. Steve even included his entire hair routine on the back side of the paper. Suddenly Billy understood why Steve needed an hour in the morning. Billy included a mandatory workout routine so he guessed he could stick to a hair routine. He almost forgot Steve drives kids around whenever they need it. So if some Dustin kid called, Billy had to do whatever he needed and do it nicely. He felt like he was in a nightmare.

He got scared when he saw a car in the driveway of the Harrington house. He checked the rear view mirror, just making sure he looked as Steve as possible, before getting out and heading inside. 

“Stephen?” Stephen?? He wanted to burst out in laughter.

“Hello?” He hung his jacket on the hook and made his way towards the voice that had called out to him.

“Did you just get home from school?” This must be his mom. He had nothing to gain from her so he could just be him which was such a relief.

“Uhm..yeah. I thought you were coming home this weekend?”

“I know but I was just so exhausted. I figured we could spend some time together? I know I haven’t really been the best about spending time with you but I’ll be home for a few months so we can make up for lost time!” Billy hated that he wanted to cry. So he just smiled and nodded.

“Alright that sounds good.” 

He watched a movie with Mrs. Harrington and she told him about some guy she met who’s supposedly famous. She hugged him goodnight. She’s a good mom. After she went to bed he, went downstairs and called his place. It rang for a minute before he heard his own voice. Thank god.

“This is weird but do you want to meet up at the quarry?” He’d tell him about his mom at the quarry.

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.” He hung up and was out the door so fast.

He had spaced out, laying on the hood of Steve’s car. He was waiting to smoke until he got his cigarettes from the cup holder of the Camaro. Speak of the devil, he heard his car roll up. It’s hard to not know it’s his car. Before he knew it, Steve had sat beside him on the hood of his car.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Your mom’s home.”

“Awesome. She tell you how disappointed she is in me?”

“No? We watched a movie. You have a good mom.”

“My mom is hardly ever around.” Billy was silent. He wanted to tell him that his mom didn’t even call anymore, let alone drop in for visits. He didn’t want to elicit pity or anything.

“How’s my house?” He doesn’t know why he asked. He already knows.

“Your dad yelled at me for putting my elbows on the table and then mocked me for playing the top 40. Max thinks you’re possessed.” 

“You played fucking top 40? God you’re so bad at this whole acting thing.” He laughed. He’d laugh a lot more if he wasn’t appalled by the image of his own body dancing to that shit. “I hope this is all over tomorrow.”

“Me too. I did some cleaning in your room by the way.”

“And?” 

“Didn’t know you’re into guys Hargrove.” He’s never wanted to jump in front of a moving vehicle so badly.

“If you say anything I will-”

“I don’t mind. It’s not a big deal.” He sat up and looked at him. Did he always have a distant look on his face or is that just Harrington?

“Then I guess you know-”

“I don’t mind that either I think you’re...nice.”

“Nice? Is that all I get?”

“I don’t know, I’m not telling you I think you’re hot.”

“You just did!!!” He laughed. “When we get our bodies back, will you be mad if I kiss you?”

“Not at all.” Steve looked at him, with the most Steve looking grin. 

(they woke up in their own bodies Friday morning. they kissed so much.)

[naivesilver]

31, 56, 19, 78, 20, 16, 11, 12 , 10, 4, 1, 21, 36, 39. Sorry if this is too many 😅

Guys it’s NEVER too many you’re giving me the chance to talk nonstop about Sonic it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in days

also I had planned to answer them in the order you asked for but it was driving me crazy so I sorted them out thematically sorry alfhjkhljshja

I answered 1 here!

100 Sonic Questions

21.) Tell us a funny Sonic-related story.

This one comes from the depths of my very first months as a Sonic fan. Basically, I had watched Sonic X upon its first Italian release as a very very smol bean. By the time I got obsessed again in middle school, though, I had forgotten everything about it except a few shots from the Italian opening theme and ONE scene from a season three episode, where Sonic and Knuckles played chess on a spaceship and then Sonic began running around and fell into space.

The “friend” that had introduced me to the show again (not a nice person and source of about 25% of my trauma, I’m glad to say I haven’t seen her in years) didn’t believe me and accused me of lying. Repeatedly. Unkindly. For months. How could such a stupid scene be in such an amazing cartoon? I must be trying to fuck with her.

Fast forward to the end of the year. I’m minding my business and I see a Facebook message from this friend, and another, and another. I click on it wondering what she’d be going ham over, and BAM. This girl had been watching Sonic AMVs on Youtube and had caught a glimpse of that scene at the beginning of a video and was fucking losing it over the fact that WOW, I HAD BEEN TELLING THE TRUTH ALL ALONG?!

Now, you have to understand that I wasn’t the kind of kid that swore, back then. I had been brought up to think that swear words would send you to hell straight away. And while not a delicate little flower, I was much, much cuter and more proper than I am now because I couldn’t live out my butch dreams quite yet. But I needed to express all the frustration gathered in those months.

So please imagine this baby-faced, straight A student 13yo wait for her friend in front of their school and bellow at the top of her lungs “BITCH, WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU?”

I still remember that scene fondly, though.

31.) Tell us a Sonic-related story that will give us feels.

Related to the experience I just mentioned, the problem I had in my first years in this fandom was that this person who had dragged me into it was obsessed with the thought that people would mock us for it. She said it was for kids, and when she got over it she gave me shit for clinging to my passion while she’d “grown up”, and she had me enjoy Sonic in secret and yelled at me for saying anything even vaguely related out loud where other people could hear us.

It got into my head so much that for a long long time I didn’t dare share anything Sonic-adjacent on any social media, long past when I’d broke away from her. I thought no one would ever take me seriously again. I felt ashamed a lot.

It got better, though. Slowly, I broke out of my shell and started interacting with this amazing fandom, and I found lots of people who didn’t give a damn about what the world thought of their passion. And I know tons of wonderful people outside the fandom, too, friends who encourage me to talk about Sonic even though they don’t know anything about it. Chats where any mention of Sonic has someone saying “wait we must tag naivesilver into this she’ll love it”. It’s - it warms my heart every day. Tumblr is a shithole, but it helped me in feeling free to do what I love in the fandom that I love most.

Thank you. To everyone that got me through that, thank you. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been to me.

19.) Favorite soundtrack

KNOCK KNOCK IT’S FUCKING KNUCKLES

20.) Least favorite soundtrack?

None I think???? There are some I don't listen to much, either because I haven't played the game or I just don't vibe with them, but there isn't any song that I particularly dislike. Almost all of them are genuine bops.

16.) (if you read fanfic) What are some fic tropes you love? Ones you hate?

FOUND FAMILY!!! Adoptive parents, siblings, friends taking care of each other, I want a shitton of fluff in my life. And kid!fic. I could read (and write!) kid!fic every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. That's why I enjoy Chaotix and Sonic Movie fics so much. Let's raise them boys well.

As for hating...I don't like high school AUs lmao I wrote one when I was younger but I never dared touch it again and I haven't read any Sonic one since 2014 at most. And most time travel fics. Sorry, Silver, I love you a fucking lot but time travel shenanigans are only funny in the two or three specific settings my mind lets me enjoy.

11.) Top five stages.

In no particular order:

-Press Garden (Mania)

-Casinopolis (Adventure)

-Casino Forest (Forces)

-Studiopolis (Mania)

Anddddd I haven't played much else so I'll have to get back to you on this ajshfkjfahlljha

12.) Worst five stages.

-IMPERIAL TOWER

-IMPERIAL TOWER

-Jesus Christ I died 78 times in that stage alone

-I'm bad at being fast and not falling off stuff and it required me to do both at the same time

-Also the Shadow DLC levels. Fuck me up a bit more will you

56.) In your opinion, what’s the weirdest thing any character has ever said?

I'm a simple girl, I see this panel and I lose my shit

10.) What do you like best about your favorite animated adaptation?

I only finished my Sonic X rewatch yesterday and I’ve been meaning to make some final comments about it (tho it’d probably be me rambling at thin air bc I doubt I can say anything that hasn’t been already said over and over and over) but the most compelling thing for me is and always will be the music.

Don’t get me wrong, what I’ve seen of the OG Japanese version had wonderful, heartfelt music, but the upbeat themes I grew up with still have me vibing day in and day out. I can dance to the Italian opening sequence at any given moment - no, you know what, here it is. Watch it and feel the serotonin drip into your veins.

(Some people will come at me for this, but I didn’t watch this show in 2019-2020 to make an in-depth analysis about it. I did it to have a dance off while Knuckles beat up some robots.)

78.) Post a scene that always gives you feels.

Sonic 06:

13yo me about to see her first ship torn apart:

4.) The last Sonic game you played is now your life. How awesome is this adventure gonna be?

Sonic Adventure - which means it’s a pretty cool life, unless it runs like SA does on my laptop and it turns slow and glitchy and grinds on my nerves even more

36.) C’mon now. How many ships do you have? :P

A FUCKING LOT my main ones are silvaze, vecpio and sonadow but I have many medium or small ones that I enjoy finding content for, like tikaze or knouge

39.) Which game is your golden standard?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not the greatest game fan as in I’ve only been actively playing for the past 2/3 years. Before that it was just gameplays on Youtube, so you should not take my opinion into any account since it’s not very informed.

However there was something about Sonic and the Black Knight that just felt...new? Peculiar? I know jack shit about the technical side of gaming but I remember being extremely pumped every time I logged in to see more of it. I'd like to feel that again, when a new game drops.

[tonysopranosfeverdreams]

They get married on a Thursday morning in mid-March 

They get married on a Thursday morning in mid-March. It’s a  private affair, all things considered, and about as quiet as could be reasonably expected for an event held within the gang. They woke at 8 am (practically the middle of the night, Mac had whined, flinging the arm not already draped atop Dennis’s chest over his eyes in a fashion so melodramatic for his questionable level of consciousness that Dennis actually found himself rather impressed).

The two took their time dressing that morning, side by side in front of Dennis’s bedroom mirror, Mac easing on a surprisingly well-pressed white dress shirt while Dennis cursed his own trembling hands as he fumbled with the clasp on his shirt sleeve. He continued on in much the same fashion until Mac’s eyes snagged on Dennis’s reflection, taking notice of his struggle and  reaching out, instinctively, to grab at Dennis’s elbow and still it, wordlessly pressing the button into place with steady fingers before turning his attention back to straightening his own tie. Dennis felt paralyzed, for a moment, eyes tracking Mac’s large hands as they smoothed over the smooth fabric.

Dennis wouldn’t go so far as to say he was nervous, really. It was absurd to be nervous about something so mundane, so usual as marriage, when you get right down to it. For Mac and Dennis, it was about tax breaks mostly, and convenience.

“Besides,” Dennis had added when he had first introduced the idea, heart surging strangely in his chest and putting a rather alarming amount of effort into sounding as casual as possible, “we’ve been living together for the past 20 years. If we’re going to keep doing it, we’d be foolish not to reap the financial benefits of the situation.”

From the passenger’s seat, Mac had beamed at Dennis for the distance of approximately four blocks until Dennis had snapped at him to shut up, the words coming across maybe more sheepish than he had intended, cheeks heating. Unable to keep himself from sneaking glances out the corner of his eye, he could see the look on Mac’s face, eyes glued to the window, but grinning this small, private smile like he couldn’t help himself. Like he wouldn’t know how to stop even if he wanted to.

What’s more, Dennis thought, is that it was absurd to be nervous about getting married to Mac, specifically. Mac, who had spent the last two decades of his life looking at Dennis in every state you could imagine seeing another human being in. Mac who has seen Dennis on the floor of the  bathroom, ugly mascara streaked cheeks and raw, snotty nose, Dennis drunk and high, Dennis confused when he first wakes up in the morning, and Dennis bleeding after a fight, Dennis shouting,  Dennis spread out against soft cotton sheets, thighs shaking. Dennis when he’s happy, head thrown back on a laugh at something stupid that Dee had said. Dennis afraid.

Once they get to the courthouse, the ceremony is mostly straightforward and over as quickly as it begins. Once they finish exchanging their vows, Charlie  catches Mac’s eye  and gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up from where he’s seated in the front row of the courtroom, and Dee manages to only gag once throughout the whole ceremony, which they all count as a win.

But Dennis laughs mindlessly, giddy and almost disbelieving, when Mac finally swoops in for a brief, breathless kiss, and the two of them high-fiving immediately after pulling away.  

When it’s over, they make it back to the bar just in time for opening, and  decide on a few rounds of tequila shots to mark the occasion. Later, when the rest of the gang is distracted, Mac presses Dennis against the wall, and licks the taste of salt and lime from his mouth.

***

It’s not until about 4 months later that shit hits the matrimonial fan.

It’s that time of day during the dead of summer the when the heat’s just begun to break,and harshness of the afternoon sun gives way to a gentler, more forgiving glow. The two of them have spent the brunt of their afternoon off from the bar lounging in bed, bodies listless and heavy in the stagnant air. Dennis, from his position against the headboard, takes a long drag from the joint that Mac had rolled for them earlier, exhaling heavily before holding it out for Mac. Mac, head resting just above Dennis’s thigh, flings up a lazy arm to take it, fingers overlapping clumsily with Dennis’s for a few seconds as he finds his grip.

Mac’s lying so he’s got one leg resting loosely over one of Dennis’s own, and he keeps nestling, rather distractingly, into the soft, loose fabric of Dennis’s t-shirt, nosing absently at the place where his hip meets his side. Dennis watches as Mac brings the joint to his lips, eyelashes fluttering shut as he inhales deeply before reopening, dilated  eyes lolling upward to focus on a spot in the tacky, cottage cheese ceiling above their bed.  Dennis’s hand drifts, unconsciously, to pet at  Mac’s hair, soft and loose, for once, between his fingers, scratching lightly along the crown of his head, the back of his neck. Dennis’s eyelids are heavy from smoking, and he’s just starting to drift off to the static-white noise sound of their ancient air conditioning unit when he, distantly, hears Mac begin speak.

“I was thinking,” Mac starts, and Dennis doesn’t know if it’s just his senses being fucked from the weed, but his voice sounds softer, more cautious, than usual. It reminds Dennis too much of when they were younger, somehow, the nights they spent in Mac’s parents’ basement, gulping down the burning bottles of cheap liquor stolen from the kitchen cabinet, but never missed. The early mornings sitting too close together on the old stained threadbare sofa, hours after Charlie would pass out, whispering things they’d deny if anyone had dared to ask them in the light of day.

Dennis grumbles softly, but forces his eyes open to squint down at him. Mac’s eyes are glued to ceiling still, but more alert now, thoughtful. He’s got one hand fiddling with the hem of Dennis’s shirt.

“I was thinking,” he continues, “that we could take another trip down to the courthouse, this week, maybe, get the ball rolling on  changing my name. Legally, I mean”

At this, Dennis starts slightly, the hand carding through Mac’s hair stilling, momentarily, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Change your name to what?”

Mac tilts his head upward so he can get a better look at Dennis’s face.

“Uh, to yours, bro. Obviously.” His voice is incredulous, as though the answer should be obvious.

Dennis raises an eyebrow, trying to think through the fog of weed that’s clouded his mind.

“So...you want to be named Dennis…..too? I think I’m missing something here, buddy.”

Mac makes a frustrated sound, disentangling himself from Dennis’s limbs to sit next to him on the bed, crossing his legs under him as he faces an extremely bemused Dennis.

“Jesus Christ, man,I meant for me to take your last name. Now that we’re married and all.” he finishes, matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Dennis blinks slowly clearly taking some extra time to process the information. “Why would you want to do that?”

Mac looks at Dennis as if he’s genuinely considering pressing his hand against his forehead and checking for the signs of a fever.

“You know I’ve always  hated my name, dude. And you’re my husband,” Dennis feels something flutter in his stomach, still,  at the use of the word, “so it makes sense.”

Dennis pauses, a moment, considering, before speaking again.

“But isn’t that kind of like…..” Mac raises his eyebrows at him as Dennis fumbles for the right word, making a vague gesture with his hand“....excessive?”

Now it’s Mac’s turn to look utterly lost. It’s kind of adorable. Dennis can’t resist  lifting his thumb to his brow, smoothing out the wrinkle forming there before he continues.

“It’s like, just because we’re married now doesn’t mean we have to do all the same shit that other couples do. It’s not like we can  have kids or whatever, so we don’t have to worry about having the same last name as  them.”

Mac doesn’t look convinced, still staring at him with this searching, confused expression, so Dennis continues.

“Besides, if we turn up somewhere with the same last name, it becomes a whole thing. Like we might as well be announcing it to the whole world, and I don’t want  that.” Mac winces, slightly, at this, a flash of hurt crossing his features that causes Dennis to instantly regret his choice of words.

“Look, Mac,” he hurries onward, fighting back an impulse to crawl into Mac’s lap and kiss the pout forming on his lips, “I’m happy with the way we are. I don’t need everyone else all up in our business,  staring at us and making assumptions. What we’re doing is between us, and we don’t need anyone’s approval. Besides, it’s not like being a Reynolds is anything to be proud of” he chokes on a laugh that sounds forced, even to his own ears.

Mac's  brow creases again, as he listens, and when he speaks, he speaks slowly and carefully, like he’s testing the weight of each word before it leaves his mouth.

“I don't mind people looking at us or knowing we're together. It’s not like I’m….I’m not embarrassed of  being with you, Dennis.” He pauses here, for a moment “Sometimes I think it might be the one thing I've done in life that i'm actually proud of.”

Dennis blanches, whatever he had planned to say next fleeing his mind at record speed, feeling rather lightheaded. He can only stare at Mac as he continues, eyes wide and sincere as he earnestly plows forward.

“You’re the only person whose approval I care about, you know that. I don’t mind getting a few weird looks now and then.” Mac clears his throat, “I’m proud to be your family, Dennis, and I don’t care who knows about  it.”

There’s a long silence, where Dennis feels, for some reason like his heart my beat clean out of his chest. Mac’s still got this serious, focused expression as he studies Dennis, who thinks his own face must reflect some of the awe that he’s feeling. Dennis feels something deep inside of him crack wide open and take root.

“Oh,” he manages, finally, softly. “Okay.”

Mac grins back at him.

“Okay.”

***

The day Mac goes in to officially file papers for his name change is the hottest day of the summer, and, coincidentally, the day their air conditioning unit finally gives out. So, they prop the windows open with old magazines, and celebrate with bargain bin wine and cold Chinese takeout, sprawled out on the floor in front of the tv screen. Periodically, between commercial breaks and bites of chicken fried rice, Dennis leans over and feathers quick, chaste kisses to the side of Mac’s throat, just pressing his mouth against the soft skin over and over again.  

Two days later later, they arrive at Guigino’s for their monthly dinner. When the hostess with the too-orange tan and too fake-bubbly personality asks Mac for their reservation name, her eyes dart down and catch, unmistakably, on the non-existent space between their bodies, the spot where the backs of their hands are just brushing against one another. Mac responds without hesitation, without even thinking, and Dennis lets out a breath he thinks he had been holding for a long, long time.c