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lostcausezz · 3 years

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Training Sessions After Dark

𝐀𝐨𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐱

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6𝐤

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐱 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ♡

It was your last month of college before your summer vacation and you played Volleyball for the school. You knew you were going to miss your teammates and roommate but you knew it would be a good time to relax and focus on yourself.

You were a part of one of the top teams in your state and you never failed to win a game. You would always walk down to the athletic center to get a look at the other sports and sit in practices.

Other athletes would watch you while you enjoyed the view of their practices while others would tend to mess up and get distracted. You were told not to go to practices from other teams but you didn’t listen because you saw no problem.

Until one day Hell Week (When it’s like extreme conditioning and exercising) started you the more you pushed yourself the more you felt like the sport wasn’t made for you.

You worked out everyday and it seemed as if everything would fall apart if you didn’t work out. You would go to your gym and do workouts by yourself and you felt like it wasn’t enough for you.

You decided to get yourself a trainer even though you didn't really need it really you kinda wanted a companion to work out with you. You didn’t wanna go on Craigslist or on Instagram so you decided to walk around the other sport programs to find a partner.

You went into the sports facility and went to where the wrestling team was. You saw that the players were stretching and everyone seemed like they had a partner.

You started to walk more towards the bleachers and you saw that one didn’t have no one to work out with and it caught your eye. He looked as if he was about 6’3 and had mid length hair that was put in a bun.

The rest of the team had on their practice shirts besides him he was shirtless and all the muscles were revealed to you. You walked past him as you were in your gym leggings and sports bra on.

You could feel the strong presence of his eyes darting at your body as your ass switched while you were walking away from him and started climbing up the bleachers to take a seat and watch their practice. You took a seat at the top and crossed your arms as you leaned your back against a wall.

The sound of the atmosphere was silent as soon as the coaches whistle went off. He looked up to see you on the bench and had squinted before he called out your name.

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“Y/n what are you doing here?” You placed your hands on the seat of the bleacher and lifted your body up. “Wassup coach! I just came to find a partner to help me strengthen my body.” He nodded then looked at the corner of the gym where the muscular figure you saw previously was.

“Aye Aoi go link up with y/n since you don’t have a partner.” He huffed as he lifted his body up from the weights he was lifting and approached the coach. “I told you to call me Todo.” The coach tapped his shoulder and laughed a bit.

“My bad bro now go off and work with Y/n.” He approached you and you were shorter than him by a few inches and he looked at you as if you were something he’s always dreamed off.

The way he looked to you was so familiar as if you knew him for a long time. Before you could say anything he took the words right out of your mouth.

"Y/n you remember me right? High school I had the buzz cut and was a little slim in the arms." You did a little gasp as you realized who he was.

You smiled and opened your arms and jumped onto him giving him a hug. He wrapped his arms around your back and twirled you around and placed you back on your feet.

You shook your body a bit and you looked over to see the whole team staring at the moment you and todo shared together. You ignored them and turned back to face Todo and slowly laid your body on the ground into a sit up position.

You placed your knees together and your arms crossed on your chest and lifted your stomach up and let out heavy breaths each time. You wore a sports bra and as you went up the more you could see that Todo got a bit flustered as his face was turning a light pink.

You took your hands off your chest and turned into a push-up and saw his eyes travel down to get a glimpse of your cleavage. He looked as if he was fantasizing something with you but you didn’t put your finger on what it could be.

You watched as the more you worked out the more everyone was leaving due to the time. Todo had the keys since he was captain of the wrestling team.

You decided to stay later because you wanted to get one more workout in and wanted to shower before you left the gym.”Y/n! Do you want me to stretch your muscles and give you a massage?” You nodded in response and walked towards him and placed your hand on the back of his neck as you brought him down to you as you were able to whisper in his ear.

In a seductive voice you said, “I want you to feel and rub all the tense places on my body, and don’t forget the oil as well.” You took his hand and made him follow you into the unisex locker room.

He turned around and locked the door behind him. You started to slowly pull your leggings down and your ass poked out like the leggings was a barrier from revealing your true curves.

You looked behind to see him try to cover his eyes. You laughed a little and said “You’re acting like you weren't crushing on me all high school, but really were the rumors true?” He approached you and placed his hands on your shoulders and pressed his fingers in your back and started to massage your tense back muscles.

As the sensation of his fingers were pressed into your back your body has a rush of relief. You started to tilt your head back and he moved down to your ear and whispered in his deep voice.

“Y/n do you want me to make you feel Good?” You nodded in response and he turned you around to face him and his muscles pecked out at you. He placed his hand on your neck and moved his head down to connect with your lips.

You started smirking in between kisses as you heard moans cloud the air. He broke away from the kiss as his hand remained on your neck as a personal choker.

“You look like such a pretty slut for me y/n.” You started to think what if someone could hear y’all because y’all were the only students there but the janitors had to clean as well. “What if someone hears us?”

He placed his hands on your thighs and picked you up and placed you on the bathroom counter where the sink was. He moved down to his knees and placed one of your legs on his shoulder as he moved his head close to your pussy.

He started to lick your clit and little licks turned into him sucking on it. He heard little moans from you but to him it wasn’t enough.

As he sucked on your clit he stuck a finger into your hole, “ughhh” You moaned out from the sensation he was giving you. His fingering pace was slow at first then it gradually got faster as he began to hit your g-spot.

You started to place your hand on his head trying to push it away so no one could hear you. “Stop pushing my head like I don’t feel your walls closing on my fingers. You know what, Can i put it in? I'll cover your mouth so we'll be safe.”

“Ok” He lifted you from the counter and moved over to a bench and sat himself down while you were in his arms. He had you sit on his lap and you waited for him to pull his pants down.

He lifted your legs up and they were in his arms as if you were folded in half. You were shocked at first on how strong he was as he bounced your body up and down a bit as he began to help by stroking at the same time.

You could feel his veins that poked out from his member in you as you began to feel your climax coming. Your moans were silent as his hand sealed them so not one could escape.

“Y/n moan loud for me I can feel our climax coming and if they hear oh well they know I can do one thing good.” You nodded as your body felt heated as you could feel the knot that was in your stomach loosen up as you felt yourself cum all over his lap.

He lifted you as he pulled out of you and laid you on the bench and came on your stomach. Your breathing was still heavy from the feeling you just shared and he started to get a towel and wipe up the mess and lifted your head up by your chin and kissed you.

He parted his lips from yours and looked into your orbs and said “Want another training session after dark?”

#jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #smut x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi toudou #aoi toudou smut #oneshot #nova writes 🪐#aoi todo fic #aoi toudou fic

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morgansmoreid · 3 years

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Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Nine

Chapter Name: " Reasonable"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Parental Abuse, Drugs Mention, Homophobia

Bold Writing stands for what happened at the station while Y/n was not present

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One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

Y/n's feet clacked against the concrete floor.

Rubbing the palm of her hand against the outline of the pills, Y/n moved along the cars as she slowly walked to the station, this time her mind as empty as an open field.

The station was in her view quicker than anticipated. She pulled open the front door, the bell above it causing everyone who was in ear's views to turn their heads. Scanning each face carefully, relief swayed through Y/n as no face was anyone she dreaded to talk to.

Her relief was cut short as Aaron walked down the hall to her left with the team, her father, and James.

"That was all we needed to know," She heard him say as Aaron shook her father's hand.

James was the first to see her, alerting the rest of the people surrounding him by clearing his throat. Y/n made eye contact with James, her breaking first as her eyes fell to her feet. Thoughts of turning around and sprinting on her heels again popped in Y/n's head, but she ignored them and just looked to the floor.

"Y/n Y/L/N-Fields, please come with us." Emily moved from the center of the group and to Y/n, reaching out her hand to lead Y/n the way of the interrogation room. Y/n took it, keeping her head down as they walked past the group, eyes burning through her back as the pills in her pocket scream her name.

Emily opens the door and lets Y/n take a seat before heading outside again. Everyone is looking at the young female through the one-sided window, their eyes still leaving the same burning gaping hole.

Aaron and David come in, both faces stoic and tense. In hand, Aaron has a yellow pad and a pee cup while David has a blood test. Y/n's eyes grow wide at the objects placed in front of her before she sits up straight and lays her hands on the table.

"You aren't drug testing me." She says, her tone assertive but calm.

"But we are," David replies, looking over to Aaron.

"You understand that this is a federal investigation now? If you comply, these samples will not go on record but will be used for further inference. If you don't, they will go on your job record and you will be on leave effective immediately." Aaron threatened, leaving Y/n no choice.

"I'm clean." She mumbled as she rolled her sleeve for the blood test. Even if she wasn't, it wouldn't show for another 2 days, so it would be negative anyway.

Aaron said nothing as he opened the blood kit and wiped Y/n's inner arm with a sanitary wipe. Y/n winced at the needle entering her arm, the pain lasting as blood filled four tubes. Placing a bandaid on her arm, Aaron disposed of the needle in a different bag before opening the door and handing it to a hand outside.

Y/n may have not seen the person who took the bag, but she saw Derek. He was leaning against the wall across from the door, arms crossed. They made eye contact, this time neither one breaking it, just before the door closed.

"Do you need water?" David's voice pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

Yes. Her throat was dry and scratchy.

Yes. Water would go well with the pills in her pocket.

"No thank you," Y/n looks up to David. He gives her the look of pity and sorrow and she feels herself hanging on by a thread.

"Come with me then," David holds the look as he turns around, cup in hand, and opens the door for Y/n.

Walking out, Y/n and David turn to the right from the small room while the team and others are on the left. David stands outside of the unisex bathroom as Y/n pees in the given cup. Washing her hands, Y/n stares at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes are red and her arm is now in pain. She feels like she's in one of those bad teenage romcoms, where the main character fucks up her life and in the end, it gets better. She's just waiting for her cue.

The silence lasts in the bathroom as Y/n bags her cup and places it on the small window ledge. She could run right now if she wanted to, but it wouldn't be worth it. Y/n turns on the bathroom faucet again and pulls out the baggie of pills from her pocket. 7 white tablets look at her as she takes one into her hand and shoves the rest back into hiding.

Just before she could bring her hand to her mouth and consume the evil, little miraculous wonder, David knocked on the door causing her to drop the pill in fright. Right into a puddle of "water," the pill went as Y/n hissed at the closed brown door.

"Fuck!" Her words echoed in the small room.

"Y/n? Is everything ok in there?" David's voice is muffled on the other side.

Instead of answering him, Y/n grabs the cup and pushes open the door, slamming the cup into the elder's hand and walking back into the integration room. She passes everyone, this time not bothering to even acknowledge Derek's presence, or his attempt to talk to her.

She slacks down in her seat and waits for the next person to walk through the door. It's Aaron again, with Penelope's laptop and a tape recorder in hand as he carries a file in his armpit.

"Before we start, shall I address you as Fields or Y/L/N?" Aaron precautions.

"Y/L/N, and only Y/L/N," Y/n says, voice cold as ice.

"Ok then, for the record, can you please state your full name, your age, and the year?" The first question leaves Aaron's lips.

"My name is Y/n Y/L/N, I am 29, and it's the year 2008."

Hotch scribbles Y/n's words down and opens the laptop. When he turns it to her, it's already open to a cheer photo from Y/n's sophomore year of high school.

"Please state who you recognize in this photo." Aaron opens the file that was once under his arm.

Eyes read the screen multiple times as the memories resurface in Y/n's head and the names leave her mouth.

"Sabrina Chains, Joanna McCarter, Daisy Miller, Rose Henry, Arianna Anderson, Megan Smith, Daniela Choi, Christina Middleton, and Catarina Paredes."

It's not in order, Sabrina is actually next to Daisy and Joanna is standing next to Daniela, but when Y/n recognized the face, she said the name.

"And who is this?" Aaron hits the right arrow key to move to the next slide. Y/n is horrified by what she sees. It's not another group picture or even a single picture of one of the women, it's a crime scene photo.

It's Arianna's crime scene photo, the only crime Y/n wasn't surrounded by the group for. The hotel room is way messier than others, the behavior completely changed from the last 3. Blood is everywhere, money and jewelry are splattered across the floor and there are no numbers on top of the body or anywhere for that matter. If the other kills weren't personal, this was. Arianna was killed by someone in rage and mixed emotion.

Just how Y/n left the team.

She can only look at the gruesome crime scene for so long until she reaches for the hood of the laptop to shut it off. Aaron is quicker and pulls it out of her sight as he switches to another picture of the crime scene, this time the bathroom.

Two looks and Y/n is ready to throw up. She trained for this, she worked her ass off for the last 5 years on how to keep her composure, yet, she's failing to keep herself together. The bathroom is a mess, clothes are ripped and makeup is smeared on walls, this unsub lost control or this is a new killer. Either way, it's not Y/n and there is no way that the team can possibly deem her that low.

"Please turn it off." Her voice is tense and demanding.

Aaron does shut the laptop and turns it to him. He takes a minute to write down his observations and proceeds with the integration further.

"When you left the Police Station, you were gone for 2 hours and 13 minutes, where did you go?" He asks, writing down the question as he says it.

"James, where is she?" David asks, handing Spencer a miniature Newton's cradle to calm him down.

Everyone looks at James for an answer. After Y/F/N was questioned, he and James were separated for the sake of the case. James was working on a different case file, wrapping it up on the end of the conference table while the team focused on Y/n.

"I'm not positively sure," James lied, rubbing the back of his neck as his handwriting started to get sloppy against the manila folder and its contents inside.

"Well, where do you think?" Derek spoke, his tone snappy and agitated.

After Y/F/N gave up his truth about Y/n's past and her drug problems, Derek was also questioned, not officially, just about how much he knew and what he wasn't letting on. Derek was honest with Hotch and the team, telling them he had no idea about Y/n's problem. Yes, it was true sometimes it intrigued him when they had date night and she never drank anything besides sparkling water, but when she blamed it on "past issues," he assumed it ran in the family.

He assumed because he trusted her.

And she broke that.

"Michael? The guy that Chief Fields couldn't stand? He lived right over here." James gets up and points to the computer screen. Y/n's last coordinates were still up so he dragged his pen across the screen, measuring out the distance for the team as he landed on the only colorful house in satellite view.

"I thought Michael was who introduced her into the drugs in the first place?" Aaron walks over to James.

"It's not really his fault, I've always told Y/n that she could've said no," James responds, becoming silent from everyone's glare at him.

"Saying no isn't easy," Derek mumbles, so low, no one heard him.

No one could say anything as another policeman came into the room frantically about a new body.

Y/n had only been gone 34 minutes at most. There was no way it could be her so quickly, but that didn't stop everyone's thoughts from going to the deep end.

As the team flies into the SUVs, Aaron orders Penelope to keep watch on Y/n's coordinates and dig very thoroughly of the lives of the 9 women, 5 now potential victims.

"Someone has it out for these women, and I wouldn't put it past that Y/n is the glue." He said, tightening his holster.

"I just walked around, took time to clear my head." Y/n lied.

Everyone knew where she was, but Aaron didn't call her out on her false truth and asked the next question.

"When was the last time you purchased any narcotics of the sort, Opioids, Cannabinoids, Hallucinogens, and or Stimulants?" Aaron asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer himself.

"Last time I was in town, 5 years ago." Y/n lies again.

This time, half of the team is unsure if it's true. James knows deep down it's a lie, but the rest of them don't want to believe it.

So Aaron doesn't push.

"And the last time you consumed any of the narcotics listed before?"

This question, everyone wants the truth, everyone is determined to figure out if they let another team member sink into their addiction before their eyes or if Y/n truly did put her life here behind her.

"As I said, last time I was in town, 5 years ago," Y/n says, her tone changing. It speaks of truth, which tells everyone, even her father that she lied about the last time she bought drugs and where she was, but they don't care about that at this moment.

All they care about is her sobriety, they were still her family after all.

Aaron smiles internally as he writes Y/n's answer on the yellow pad, then ripping the sheet off and sliding it underneath the cardboard. When he does this, the next yellow sheet visible is not blank, it's all of Y/F/N's previous questions. The horrible lights make it hard to see all of them but it still shines bright on the first one.

"What was discipline like as Y/n grew up?" Aaron asks his first question.

The question throws Y/F/N off guard. That had nothing to do with the investigation, what did the FBI want to know about his parenting?

"I believe you were asked a question," David says beside Aaron, arms crossed.

"This has to do what with the investigation?" Y/F/N asked, finally understanding the concept of what he was being asked.

"Agent Hotchner, are you implying that I abused my daughter?" He accused, now not feeling so compliant.

"I didn't say anything to imply, did I, Agent Rossi?" Aaron says loud and clear, bringing the tape recorder to him.

"Not at all, but I think you should repeat it, someone seems confused," Rossi taunted.

"Y/F/N Fields, what was discipline like as Y/n, your daughter grew up?" Aaron demanded an answer.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N said.

"Reasonable how?" Rossi pressed.

"If needed, I taught my daughter wrong from right," Y/F/N replied confidently.

"Did you at any given point in time, use your power as a parent to hit Y/n as a punishment?" Aaron asked bluntly. He hated abusers, it was something about finding pain and taking it out on others that he just could never understand.

"I did. But like I said when it was reasonable." His mouth forms into an undeniable smirk.

Y/F/N's hand went across Y/n's face.

"I said I was sorry!" The girl cried, she was only trying to show her dad an A+ she got.

"You're always sorry, there was no reason for you to knock that down." The angry male pointed to the empty cup on the floor.

Out of excitement, Y/n's elbow hit the plastic cup and knocked it down, but she was backed into the wall before she could pick it up, dropping her graded test midway.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N mumbled to himself.

Anger filled Y/n as her eyes went over the word reasonable.

Never once was Y/F/N reasonable.

Never.

Clenching her fists, Y/n sits up straight and zones back into her conversation with Aaron.

"Can you ask it again?" She says, making straight eye contact.

"Your relations to Daniela Choi?" Aaron asks.

Y/n doesn't know how to reply, she knows Derek is watching so she has to careful with her answer.

"I was-," She gathers her thoughts. "We were pretty close."

It's not a lie. They were close, extremely.

"Who would you say Y/n was closest to?" Aaron asks James.

The team started the investigation from the very beginning, so now everyone was a suspect.

"I've got a funny feeling about that dude, Hotch," Derek says, but his judgment is clouded, he's angry and hurt so to make him feel better, Aaron took James in for questioning.

"Daniela." James's answer is short.

"Why?"

"They dated, for a long time, blew up our whole group," James explains.

"What group?" Aaron flies through the files that he brought in.

Instead of answering, James takes out a picture.

"He's prepared." JJ points out.

The picture is a cheer team, James is nowhere to be found but the first person to catch Aaron's eye is the babyface of Y/n, she in middle, engulfed in a hug by a female with curly mixed hair- Arianna he later finds out. He wants to question why James has this but James continues to talk.

"Not everyone was supportive."

"What?" Rose asked.

"I'm dating Y/n," Daniela said slowly, it was time the two told their friends, the thought of banishment slipping their minds.

"You and Y/n? But your both girls!" Rose exclaimed, as the pastor's daughter, she was raised to what she thought was right.

"So? My mom said it doesn't matter and we both know Y/F/N won't bat an eye." Daniela spoke for both her and Y/n.

"Guys! Help me out here, tell them it's wrong." Rose looked around the booth, empty cups filled the large table as her high pitch voice filled the empty diner.

"How is it wrong?" Caterina scoffed, she could never have the courage to do what Danny and Y/n are doing but she'll stand by them no matter what.

"The bible-" Rose protests.

"For the last time, not all of us live by the damn bible!" James slammed his hand on the teal table before them.

Everyone loved each other, no one cared for anyone's flaws, like Rose's, who always ignored everyone when they try to tell her they don't want to hear bible quotes, or Y/n who always inserts herself into drama.

They were each other's little family and until now nothing has torn them apart.

"I refuse to be around them and their sins," Rose shoved her finger into Y/n's, finally the young girl to stand up.

"And we refuse to be around you." Y/n's tone is cold and tense.

"We all do." Arianna stood up.

"Christina?" Rose looked at the oldest for help.

"You heard them, you can't hate one without hating all of us." She said.

Christina's word was final. If she said someone was out, they were out, no discussion. She just had to say the words.

"Rose, are you staying or leaving?" She asked.

"I'm leaving, my dignity lasts." Rose proudly held her head high.

"Bye then. You longer are allowed to hang out with us." Christina said with much more pride.

The 10 at the table watched the first walk away.

"Not everyone agreed." James rephrased his sentence, fists clenching in anger.

As James told Aaron how the day that Rose left the group went, his fingers dug deeper into his hand, and when he finally let go, crescent marks left their place.

"When you say close, what do you mean?" Aaron wants to hear from Y/n, James is not trustworthy enough right now.

"I had a relationship with Daniela," Y/n admits.

Hearing the words makes Derek turn on his heels and leave the group in the hall. He needs air, he needs to be away from Y/n right now. He told her he was sorry about her friend and she just went with it, in his eyes, she lied to him.

She did the one thing that he always asked not to.

"Derek?" Spencer's voice called from behind him.

"Not now," Derek says, but it's more of a plead. He doesn't want to take his anger out on someone who doesn't deserve it, he wants to take his anger out on Y/n.

Spencer leaves him alone and Derek takes a few minutes to himself. When he heads back to the station, he refuses to join back with the group, he heads back to the table in the conference room and starts working, the way his handwriting fills each paper and picture easing his mind.

As the minutes feel like hours, Y/n's interview is finally done and she feels bare. She hates how much she revealed, she hates how much has been stripped, how her walls came down and she had no say.

She hates most of her answers were lies that found their way into her truth.

But she won't tell them that, they don't need to know.

They don't get to know.

Aaron lets Y/n head to the hotel first, but when she steps outside, it's dark. Her phone is dead and her body is tired, yet her feet take her to the hotel doors, they let her step into the elevator and into her room. Her hands ache but they plug her phone in and they pull her shirt off. Her hands ache but they turn the knobs of the shower and unbutton her pants. Her legs hurt but they step out of the jeans and help her feet kick them to the side. Her body is a temple of pain but as she removes her bra and underwear, as she steps in the shower, as her fingers run over her body and squeeze the soap out of her cloth out, letting it slide down her figure, she finds her self sitting in the middle of her bed, the air silent where she finally lets her self cry.

So many years of bottling up feeling, so many years of trauma, and it took 34 questions to strip her of who she was. Every single question she counted, every single time she felt betrayed, she counted, her life was out there to know, memories she hid taunt her.

A knock on her door pulls her out of her thoughts.

When she gets up, she takes notice of the black shirt she was wearing 24 hours ago. The feeling of Derek's hand run up and down her body in chills as she walks closer to the door.

24 hours ago everything was peaceful.

Now it's a shithole.

Cracking open the door, Y/n is surprised, to say the least. Both people are silent as she opens the door more and lets the person step in.

"Derek-" She tries.

"No. You don't get to talk. It's your turn to listen." He says, meaning every fucking word.

#derek morgan #derek morgan fic #Chocolate Thunder #derek morgan x reader #bau x reader #reader insert #mjmoreid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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grimrester · 3 years

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The Heat

The fall semester of my last year of art school had barely started when the air conditioning in the senior art studios broke. If I lived further north that might not have been a problem, but I lived in Georgia, where the summer heat didn't quite break until September or October. And it was still August.

To make matters worse, the studios were in an old building with high ceilings and big glass panels built into the steep, sloped roof. All the natural lighting normally would've been a blessing. But with the air conditioning broken, it instead turned the studios into an oven. Heat seeped in all day long and remained trapped there indefinitely.

The studios themselves were two rows of cubicles with high, 8ft walls, built right in the center of the building after the college had purchased it. The open ceilings of each cell and the large gap between the cubicle wall and the sloped windows above allowed the light - and the heat - to reach anyone who might be working inside them. Each graduating senior was assigned a specific cubicle as their personal, 24/7 studio space.

There was a big hallway around the perimeter of the building. One section of the hallway widened to make space for a sink to wash brushes in and a table and chairs for critique sessions. The bathroom was there, too - a unisex one with a derelict little door, nearly hanging off its hinges.

Initially I'd worried that having just one toilet in the building wouldn't be enough, but it ended up not being an issue. Most of the students didn't last long. The heat during the day was too oppressive. At times, the air in the building was so suffocating that the heat almost felt like a physical presence, like a large creature weighing down on our shoulders, crushing us under its weight.

---

I caught the student assigned to the cell next to mine moving out all his paintings just a couple weeks into the semester.

"Hey," I said, pausing outside the door to my own cubicle to gawk. The student - I never bothered to learn his name - looked entirely morose as he stacked a few canvases by the door. "Moving out already?"

"Yeah," he said, solemnly, heavily dropping another canvas on the pile. "I have no idea how you can work in here. My oils keep melting."

"What?" I said, confused. I shuffled over to get a look at the top painting on the stack, and sure enough, the half-finished landscape he'd made with oil paint was completely distorted. Strangely, the melted paint seemed to be in round sections, about as large as my head, scattered all over the canvas.

"It's fucking weird, right?" he said, following my gaze.

"Wouldn't it melt all over?" I asked. "Why is it just in some parts?"

"Beats the hell out of me," he replied. "My best guess is it was cloudy or something so it melted unevenly where the sun got to it."

"Guess it's lucky I work with ink," I said. "It dries fast so it'd sooner burst into flames than melt, and it's too humid in here for a fire."

The student clucked his tongue. "I shoulda used acrylic. Might've held up better." He sighed and picked up the stack. "Too late now, I guess. I'm going to see if I can salvage them at home."

"Good luck," I said, watching him go. At least he had the option of working at home. My apartment was too small for the large paintings I wanted to make, so I was forced to bear the heat.

---

I and the few other students who had to work in the little plaster cells complained to the administration about the heat many times, but I guess our small group just wasn't a priority because the air conditioner remained broken. The heat remained an issue into September, even when the outside air had cooled off a little. I began to think there was something wrong with the building, that perhaps the AC was spitting out hot air or the large windows had been specifically designed to turn the place into an oven.

I eventually started coming into the studios later and later, hoping that the space would at least cool down at nighttime. I preferred working in crappy, dim synthetic lighting over standing there with the sun bearing down on me through the open top of my cubicle. But even at night, the heat was terrible. It felt muggy, smothering. I felt the weight of it on me from the moment I entered the studios.

To add to the uncomfortable conditions, the building was pretty old and made creaking and moaning noises as it marginally cooled down overnight. The exposed pipes near the ceiling were especially noisy, making all sorts of awful, creepy groans. I'd mostly gotten used to them after a while.

Then one night it got worse.

I was in my cubicle, in the final stages of one of my larger ink drawings. I was painstakingly cleaning up some lines with a fine brush when suddenly there was a huge slamming noise, loud enough that I could hear it through my music and earbuds. I jolted, screwing up my line in the process, and hissed through my teeth.

"What was that?" I called out, taking out one earbud. I thought maybe one of the artists who worked in the far end cubicles had dropped something or fallen over, but there was no reply.

I cracked the door of my cubicle and peeked out, looking around either end of the hallway. Nothing seemed amiss, so I just closed my door again and went back to work. I assumed it was just a new pipe noise or something.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, I was trying to decide on a new playlist when it happened again. My music wasn't playing, so I heard it clearer this time - a loud BAM noise from the back building wall, several cubicles away from me. It almost sounded like some huge beast was outside, hurling its body against the side of the building, trying to get inside.

But that would be silly. This was the first time I'd stayed past midnight and these noises were probably normal at this time of night. I just hadn't heard them before.

I tried to focus on picking a playlist. The noise happened again. But this time, the brushes on my work table rattled in their mason jar from the force.

I stared at them. I'd never heard a building settle so hard that it made things move.

I suddenly had the feeling that something was very wrong. I felt queasy - my stomach tightened and churned. Maybe I was just not feeling well and the heat was exasperating it? I'd been working long hours and late nights in the studio, so it was possible I'd made myself sick. I felt the need to vomit, and I hoped it would make my nausea subside.

I pulled my earbuds out and left my studio, walking quickly to the bathroom. The slamming noise echoed out again, on the other side of the building. I locked the rickety bathroom door behind me, my moist palms sliding against the metal handle as I did so. The back of my neck felt wet, too, that sort of gross, warm moistness that comes with the Georgia heat.

I knelt by the toilet, face hovering over the bowl. I still felt sick but nothing was coming up. I pressed my fist into my stomach hard and tried to retch, but still nothing happened. The nausea was starting to make me dizzy. Did I get heat stroke or something?

The door rattled behind me.

"Someone's in here!" I called out, my voice warbling a little. Weird, I thought, since the studios had been quiet all night. I thought I was the only one there.

The door rattled harder, the whole thing shaking with the effort.

"Jesus," I muttered. Then, louder, "I said, it's occupied!"

The rattling increased and there was a loud BANG as something hit the door hard. I twisted around and stared, gripping the toilet seat, shocked. Who the fuck needed the bathroom that badly? Whoever was outside smacked the door hard again and I worried that the shitty, old wood would simply splinter under the force.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. The rattling and banging just ceased. I stared at the door a little longer, wondering if the person outside had left yet. I didn't particularly want to run into them if a locked bathroom door was enough to make them throw a fit outside. I waited and waited, to be sure they left, so long that my nausea had subsided.

Put off by the whole experience, I quickly gathered my things from my studio and left for the night.

---

When I returned the next night, the heat was inexplicably worse than before. I couldn't even listen to music to distract myself this time. I was a little worried that whoever had given me a hard time in the bathroom would come back, and I didn't want to miss hearing them coming if for some reason they were on a warpath.

The relative silence of the studio was decidedly eerie. There was a faint buzz from the lights and the occasional groaning and moaning of old pipes, but otherwise you could hear a pin drop. I began to rethink my decision on the music because the silence was spooky and setting me on edge. I thought maybe I could play it on my phone's speaker so I could still hear someone coming. But then, if they were there and so quiet I couldn't hear them, playing music out loud might've pissed them off…

My train of thought was interrupted by that awful, thundering slamming noise from the far wall of the building. The great, hulking beast I had imagined was back.

Sweat began to gather on my palms and neck again and I put my brush down to wipe my hands on my pants. The air in the studio became so muggy that breathing suddenly felt like inhaling swamp water.

Hardly a moment later, there it was again - BAM. My paintbrushes rattled in the little jar. My first thought that maybe whoever had needed the bathroom yesterday was throwing another fit, but it really sounded like something massive hitting the wall. Something too massive for one person to hurl.

I once again had the distinct feeling that something was wrong. What would have the kind of force to make everything move like that? Was the old building going to collapse?

BAM - louder this time.

Maybe this was some bizzare, localized earthquake, I told myself. It didn't matter that I'd never heard of an earthquake that behaved this way. It seemed more likely than the alternative I imagined, that some huge beast was hurling its hairy, grotesque body against the walls.

I sat motionless, listening closely.

BAM. My door rattled.

There was no mistaking it that time. The sound wasn't getting louder - the source of it was just getting closer.

The monster I had imagined wasn't outside and trying to get in. It was already inside the building.

I stared, frozen in place, at my studio door. I felt ridiculous. How would some kind of monster large enough to shake the walls even get through the building's doors?

BAM. Even closer now.

BAM. It sounded like it was right outside my door. I could see the handle shake with the force. Something was definitely wrong. This wasn't an earthquake and it wasn't some deranged art student. There was something out there and it wanted to be in here, with me. I tried to take deep breaths to remain calm, but sucking in big gulps of warm, humid air just made me feel queasy again. I looked around, trying to find somewhere to hide, but my cubicle was bare - just a folding table and a stool. There was nowhere to go. I pressed myself against the corner of my cell, as far away from my door as possible.

There was a long moment where there was no sound - not the slamming, not the usual groaning of the pipes. I slid down to the hard concrete floor and waited. Perhaps it was over?

The door handle rattled, this time unaccompanied by any slamming noise.

My breath caught. Sweat dripped down my forehead. I stared, watching as the handle jiggled. Whatever was making it move seemed unable to turn it properly, just fumbling it around without getting it to unlatch.

I waited. The handle stopped moving.

There was another moment of dead silence. Then another new sound - fast, heavy, stomping footsteps, heading towards the section of hallway with the bathroom, table, and sink.

I got up and grabbed my phone and bag. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but I couldn't stay there any longer.

There was a creaking noise, and then a terrible thumping sound, like something had just hit the ground hard. Then crashing, over in one of the cubicles on the far end, as though whatever had been in the hall had used the table in the critique area to hop the cubicle wall and was now making a mess inside. Another creak, another thump, more crashing, closer, just a few cubicles away.

I threw my cubicle door open. I just had to make it to the main door, but it was all the way on the other side of the building. I'd have to run around half the perimeter hallway to get there.

So I ran.

The beast, whatever it was, continued into another cubicle - creak, thump, crash. Then it paused as I rounded the first corner, my sneakers squeaking on the concrete. A terrible dread settled in my stomach. It was listening and it knew I was trying to leave. It didn't make any noise - no breathing, no wailing, no roaring - but I somehow still got the sense that it was pissed off by my attempted escape.

I rounded the second corner. I could see the door just ahead.

A creak. I looked at the tops of the cubicles as I ran for the door, but there was nothing there. No hairy beast hovering over the wall and dropping into the next studio. I slowed my running.

A thump. A crash. A creak.

I paused, my hand on the front door, my mouth gaping as I looked at the tops of the cubicles. I felt I had to see it, had to know I wasn't just crazy, but it seemed there was no beast to see.

Then I finally saw it, lurching over the wall, headed right for me. Warped air, shimmering, the way streets do on a hot day. A mass of heat made alive, barely visible unless you're looking closely. It was hard to tell the boundaries of it, but I could tell it was huge, fat enough that it nearly didn't fit in the cubicle it was lumbering out of.

It dropped down over the wall, landing in the hallway, with a thunderous thud.

I pushed the door open and ran into the night. I ran and ran and didn't look behind me. I didn't hear its thumping footsteps, but it was so difficult to see that looking might not have helped anyway.

I ran all the way back to my apartment, about a mile from campus. I slammed and locked the door behind me, blasted my air conditioner, and hid in my bed until morning.

---

I was eating a late breakfast, wondering if I'd somehow imagined the whole thing, when a friend called me.

"Were you in the studios last night?" she asked, a touch of panic in her voice, forgoing any pleasantries.

"No." The lie slipped out easily. I had that feeling of inexplicable dread again. "Why?"

"Apparently there was some huge break in," she said. "All the studios were trashed! It sounds like the people who did it didn't even take anything, they just… melted a bunch of stuff. Paintings, metals, anything meltable."

I struggled to think of an adequate response, just stared down at my soggy cereal. "Huh. Weird," I managed.

"Do you think they'll put some extra security on the building?" she asked. "It's weird they leave it unlocked all the time."

"No," I said, thinking of the broken air conditioning. "Knowing them, they'll probably just leave it, since no one got hurt."

---

I never told anyone what I saw that night. What would I even say? Who would believe me? Anyone would just assume I was crazy or suffering from heat exhaustion.

But I wish I'd at least tried.

I waited a week before going back to the studios to clean out my cubicle. I went during the day this time. I wouldn't be there long and I had encountered the creature at night so it seemed safer.

The building seemed empty when I arrived, but as soon as I opened the doors there was a terrible smell. It was sickly-sweet and sour, like trash left out in the sun. I pinched my nose as I rounded the corners to my cubicle, but the smell only got worse. It was so overpowering as I rounded the second corner that I considered cutting my losses and just leaving.

The cubicle door on the end was left wide open. Was someone in here working? I looked inside as I passed, then froze.

There, huddled under the table as though hiding from something, was a body. It was withered as though there for some time, almost mummy-like, the skin leathery and dry like beef jerky. The eyes were wide open, dry little balls pointed right in my direction.

I didn't scream. I just turned around, walked out of the building, and called the police.

---

The autopsy said the student died of dehydration and heat stroke. The news reported it as some sort of freak accident, a student that got so lost in their art that they stopped taking care of themselves and passed out in that hot studio, baking alive until they finally died.

The air conditioning finally got fixed after that.

#this is a short horror story :)#it was made for r/nosleep but i thought id also post it here #short story #creative writing #horror #horror stories #tw death

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honey-subs · 4 years

Note

Um I see your request is open omg Can I request a needy Jimin? Like he plans on teasing you/riling you up and then you eventually fall for his trap?

Trap - Park Jimin

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

⤷pairing - jimin x reader

⤷genre - smut

⤷summary - jimin’s favorite activity is to be bratty for you

⤷warnings - sub!jimin, dom!reader, praise, degradation, teasing, begging, cross dressing, jimin is a bit of a brat

⤷notes - please let me know if you’d like me to remove or add something!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it seemed like time stopped when jimin lifted his arms. he lifted his arms to get something from the top shelf, and there it was, sitting high on his hips were black, lacy panties. they curved at his hip, and a nice bow sat right on the lining. your mouth watered as you continued to stare at the garments your boyfriend had on.

unfortunately, the beautiful sight was taken away from you when jimin finally reached what he had wanting to get. he noticed your staring and tried to remain nonchalant.

“what’s wrong y/n?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips as he feigned innocence. “you know exactly what’s wrong.” you grit out, hand moving to grope his upper thigh.

“why, whatever do you mean?” he asked, exaggerating his words. you rolled your eyes you snatched the place away from jimin, and turned to your mutual friends.

“here’s a plate.” you told them, handing them a place jimin got from the top shelf. “you know better than to do this in public, baby boy. you’re in for it once we get home.” you tugged him close and whispered in his ear.

“that’s exactly what i wanted.” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders and turning to talk to a friend. you narrowed your eyes as he ignored you, and did your best to talk to your own friend while trying not to think of the lace under his clothes.

eventually, the night died down a bit, people still talking but ready to go home. jimin hadn’t really done anything more sense that moment earlier, and you were surprised but slightly on edge.

the both of you were sitting by each other, silently waiting for the night to be over with. the laugher died down and turned into comfortable silence. you stiffen and tense when you feel jimin’s hand on your thigh, slowly trailing up until they were over your heat. “jimin.” you warm in a stern voice. “what? i’m not doing anything, y/n.” he says, a devilish smirk on his lips.

he uses an index finger to circle your clit over your clothes. the thrill of being caught and doing this at a public setting arouses you — more than you’d like. you’re quick to grip jimin’s wrist and hold it for a while. “your punishment is only going to get worse if you keep this up.” you whispered in his ear, pulling away with a smile so no one suspected anything.

his hand moved under the waistband of your clothes, and his cold fingers came in contact with your clit again, rubbing it in small circles with more vigor and even slipping a finger into you. you do your best to keep your breathing regulated, but it’s hard when jimin’s fingers working wonders. “thank you, guys.” you say abruptly, startling jimin a bit and causing him to stop and take his hand from your pants. “thanks for inviting us, but jimin is getting tired, i think we should head home.” you told them with a fake apologetic smile on your face.

jimin plays along with your little lie, making his moves more slurred and groggy. everyone there wishes you a good night, and with that the both of you are leaving. jimin still can’t keep his hands to himself, though. he’s doing his best to grope you and tease you even more, but you weren’t having it.

luckily, the both of you passed a unisex restroom in your way out. huffing, you pushed him into the restroom, locking the door with a click behind you. he was smirking as you cornered him, overly giddy for someone who was about to get a punishment.

your arms were on either side of his head so he had no choice but the stay in front of you. “what was that?” you asked him, genuinely wanting an answer on why he thought it was a good idea to finger you in front of friends. “it’s fun.” he replied back simply, with a shrug of his shoulders. he seemed composed on the outside, but with your close proximity, you could feel his neediness and nervousness and how riled up he was.

you hummed in response, simply pushing your knee inbetween his legs and up against the tent in his pants. he gasped at the unexpected contact. “being bratty gets you no where baby. you know that.” you told him, gripping his hair in your hand and tugging it to make him look at you. he held back a smirk, and instead decided to grind on your knee. “just like a slut to grind on my knee.” you whispered. “do you think you can cum in your pants like this? getting off to being a brat and acting out publicly?” your questions were rhetorical. he knew the answer to each one was indeed yes.

jimin did his best to hold back his noises, but it was no use. the moment you flexed your thigh, he was through. every sound he made was loud and needy. of course, the little brat didn’t even try to be quiet once he let go. he was sinfully letting everything fall free, not caring who heard him

he didn’t let you know he was close either, you could take a fine guess when you heard a choked moan along with shaky whimpers. you felt the warmth of the cum spreading across his pants, tinting them darker than normal. he looked at you panting, a smirk painted on his face as always. “i didn’t say you could do that.” you growled. “yeah, well, i don’t always need your permission.” he shrugged. your hand moved to his neck and applied slight pressure.

his breath got caught in his throat when he felt you moving your knee to press again his cock once again. his eyes could’ve buldged out his head. he shivered in overstimulation. “since you wanted to cum so bad without my permission, let’s see how many times you can cum now.” you told him, and pushed your knee against his sensitivity repeatedly. you ducked your head and tugged his shirt down a bit, and began to kiss some of the exposed skin that his shirt left. you sucked a hickey into his neck and he moaned, “m-mark me, please?” he asked, stilling grinding on your thigh.

hes clutching onto your arms when the pain turns into pure pleasure, moaning. “this might be your last punishment might not, baby. depends on how pretty you sound when you beg me.” you determined. he just glared at you, doing his best not to give in and submit to your threat. he felt his abdomen convulse as another orgasm began to wash over him. his back arched off the tile wall as it did so, causing his eyes to close tightly. “oh fuck-“ he grunted at he came down from a second orgasm that was even more powerful than his first.

he went limp with pleasure as your knee continued to move. “please, please, please.” he begged. “l-last one, please i- i cant take it.” he mumbled as his face his flush against your shoulder. he begs like that, yet he’s still pathetically rutting himself against your thigh. “s-sensitive.” he mumbled, hips already stuttering.

it doesn’t take much for him to cum again, pushing himself against you as his eyes roll back. you finally remove your knee from his legs, and he’s thankful, suddenly, embarrassed by how much he came in his pants, with the obviously noticeable patch and color difference.

“c’mon, minnie. let’s go home and hope they didn’t see us,” you tell him and the color drains from his face at the thought of his friends hearing him, especially since he knows he was loud. you fix your own clothing, and tug him out of the bathroom, ready for all of the teasing that was sure to come your way.

361 notes · View notes

poptod · 4 years

Text

Terrified (Elliot Alderson x Reader)

Description: Mental hospitals probably aren’t the best place to form relationships of any sort.

Notes: Angst and self harm and general mental unwellness. This is a mental hospital after all. There is also smut but it’s still gender neutral. Word Count: 3.6k

God, what wouldn't you do for a chance to start everything over. Never gain self awareness, never wake up the day you turned thirteen, never grow to despise yourself to the deepest corners of your soul. That was when it really started after all – around the age of thirteen, when hormones kicked in and you learned the words you said had an impact on those listening. It was also then you learned you were a genuinely awful person, and despite your many efforts to become better, nothing worked.

You didn't even try to hide the fact that you hated yourself. Instead, your logic was that everyone had to know – everyone had to know that you were aware of how horrible you were, and everyone had to know that you were punishing yourself constantly, they had to know that you hated yourself. But no one likes hanging around someone who hates themself, so eventually you were left alone. After that, you never made friends with anyone again, no one bothering to stay.

Elliot didn't stay either. To be fair, he was much like you in the aspect that not very many people liked him. In school he was smarter than most people, quiet and seemingly rude, and though the two of you were never truly friends, he recognized you years later. In prison.

It wasn't really a prison, though most of the people there called it a prison, including much of the staff. But no, it was actually a hospital – a mental hospital, where people with addictions stayed, people fucked up in the head, people like you and him.

You sat in a circle with the other patients, going around and talking about your own traumas and your own issues. Elliot hadn't said anything to you yet, but by the way his gaze kept flickering back to you, it was safe enough to say he recognized you. To your left, the next person stood and talked about their physical abuse. Unfortunately you'd been there long enough that sob stories didn't affect you that much, if at all. You would be next once they were done – and like most times, you wouldn't say anything. Accustomed to your behavior, the instructor moved to the next person, but you didn't start listening until Elliot spoke.

"I'm here for substance abuse," he said, dull and monotone. Nothing else.

You returned to your room shortly after, habitually checking the secret pocket in your night stand, full of unhealthy coping methods that seemed to be the only thing that worked. Sneaking your hand in, you pulled out a blunt, hiding it in your pocket as you stood, heading off to the bathroom. On the way you passed Elliot, who by some remote chance noticed your hand fidgeting with the blunt through the material of your sweatshirt. He stopped you right before you reached the unisex bathroom.

"What's in your pocket?" He asked quietly, wary of any passerby.

"Weed," you answered truthfully.

"Can I join?" He asked, fidgeting. You nodded, and he followed you, the both of you sneaking silently into the bathroom.

Pulling out your lighter, you pulled on the starter, a flame burning at the end of the blunt. Once it began to smoke you tucked it away, taking your first drag as a sense of calm came over you. You handed it to Elliot.

"Maybe our school fucked us up," he muttered, letting smoke fall with his words, "that's why we're both here."

"Nah," you said, staring up at the ceiling. "I fucked myself up, all on my own."

He chuckled.

After that, he stuck with you a little bit. You understood why – you're practically the dealer of the hospital, getting your stash from a man on the outside who visited you every now and then. In return he could stay in your apartment, as long as he kept it clean enough. Didn't really matter to you anyway, since you weren't about to get out anytime soon, and you had quite a lot of money saved up.

Sometimes Elliot visited your room, and on one such afternoon you felt so heavy with dread that once more you reached into that hidden pocket, pulling out a pocket knife, the only sharp object you could sneak in. In plain view of him you dug it into your skin, feeling nothing. You used to feel something – pain, excitement, adrenaline, but now it's such a common occurrence that it's just another day. Another mindless task. Elliot didn't agree, not by the way his eyes widened.

In a swift movement he snatched the pocket knife from you, putting the knife back into the body and shoving it into his own pocket.

"What the fuck are you doing," he gritted out, scolding you.

"What are you gonna do about it? Tell the doctors? Fuck off," you said, shoving his leg with your foot.

He swore, either to you or himself before leaving, taking your pocket knife with him.

The next thing you got your hands on was a thick sewing needle. It was strong, and the slide into your skin wasn't an easy one, but it was new. Almost exciting. At least you now knew not to do it in front of Elliot; he probably had a thing about blood.

Eventually he found out, though the circumstances sure were, if there was a word to describe it, odd. Odd didn't encapsulate the whole of the experience, but you could think of nothing else to call it.

It's one of those sessions in the bathroom, exhaling smoke and watching the haze slowly disappear into the fan before one of you took another hit. The blunt in your hand was beginning to fade, the very end of it scrunched between your fingers. It was at that point that he stepped close to you, invading your personal space so harshly that the blunt dropped from you and smoldered on the white-tile floor. His chest pressed to yours, his gaze dropped to your lips, where the remnants of your last breath left, laced grey and smelling thick with weed. You tried to back up to get your heartbeat under control, but you were already pressed up against the sink.

Grabbing a fist of your shirt in his hand he pulled you forward, kissing you warm and harsh, and it's a thrill more exciting than the cuts and the needles. For a moment you felt like you were living, like you hadn't wasted so much of your life hating everything. His lips moved frantically against yours, hands gripping your hair and tugging, hips nearly grinding into yours.

You were surprised, to say the least. He wasn't ever the type to enjoy sexual stuff, at least not to your knowledge of what he shared with you, and he never liked to be touched. So while you were quite confused, it wasn't all that unwelcome. He was nice enough and his eyes were pretty, and when he hummed, the vibrations passing into you, you could feel your knees go weak.

It would've been a perfect day, a perfect smoke session if he hadn't wanted to go further. Instead he pulled at your shirt, tugging to try and rid you of the bright white fabric, forcing it over your head and tossing it into a corner of the room. Without thought you tried to continue, but a gasp left him and he stepped back.

Looking down, you remembered your torso dotted with small scabs from the needle, bruises coloring your skin dark purple and yellow. You weren't even scared of him noticing. No, the only thought in your head was fuck, I'm not gonna get more kisses, instead of what it should've been, which was more along the lines of fuck, Elliot caught my horrendous act.

"You really fucking hate yourself, don't you?" He asked, taking another step back till he hit the wall behind him.

"Never said I didn't," you said dully. "Does this mean we can't fuck?"

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "You have no morality. Maybe you should hate yourself – you don't fucking care about anyone but you. Stuck in your own goddamn world."

He left and you broke down crying, sitting on the bathroom floor with your knees held tight against your chest. You told yourself all of those things – you already knew you were self centered, that you didn't care about other people, that you always said and did the wrong thing, but it always hurt. It always would, and the only thing to ever dull it was drugs and sharp objects. Right then you didn't have your needle, and you didn't feel like getting it, so instead you found your lighter and burnt scars into your skin.

For the next couple days you laid in bed, unmoving save for your breath. Staring at the wall. Hunger gnawing. You didn't deserve food, nor to breathe, though you continued doing the latter. Sometimes you'd forget to breathe, but it never lasted long. You wished it lasted longer.

In the night, before lockdown, he snuck into your room when he thought you were sleeping. He rifled through your belongings, searching for a while before he stood and made his way to the door. You watched from your bed, watching as his fingers curl around your needle and your lighter, watching as he left and closed the door behind him.

It took a little while but you found the energy to confront him, dragging your body out of bed and meeting him in the courtyard, where he spent hours watching birds and squirrels in the trees and fields. He sat on one of the wooden benches beside the water fountain, and you sat beside him.

"I want my stuff back," you said plainly, unsure of how else to put it.

"I want you to stop," he said in return.

With both of you at an impasse, you sat in silence for a while, contemplating how you could either get your things back or get new ones. Your dealer wouldn't be visiting you for another month, but when he did you could ask for another pocket knife. That whole process would take two months – far too long for you. You needed it now. The only way you were hurting yourself was through starvation, and while it could bring some fantastic pain (and a few fainting sessions) it wasn't enough.

"Elliot, please," you tried once more.

Nothing.

"You do it then," you suggested, something that pulled his concentration away from the black squirrel to you. "You hurt me if you want to control it so badly."

"Are you seriously asking me to cut you up?"

"Please," you said softly, your voice cracking with need. Scooting closer to him you rested your hand on his thigh, high enough that his heat is embarrassingly obvious, while you put your chin on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck with your nose, lips barely brushing his skin. He froze.

"There's cameras," he gritted out.

His discomfort was obvious, but you didn't care all that much. He wanted you for some reason, whether it was sexual or romantic, and you could use that against him. But you didn't really want to do that with him in broad daylight, so you stopped, instead resting your head against his shoulder and intertwining your fingers in his.

He found you at midnight, sneaking in and taking your hand. Your room wouldn't do – there were cameras. The only place without cameras was the bathroom, so like many times before he led you there, locking the door behind the two of you once you entered.

"You're a damn brat, I hope you know that," Elliot growled as he stepped into your space, his hand coming to cradle your jaw, almost like he cared about you. Like you might've been worth his time. It didn't last, of course – the next moment his hand moved to your hair, yanking as he kissed you so fiercely you could feel everything in your body tense up.

A moan fell from you as he ground his hips into you once more, helpless and needy in a way you only felt from your knives. His heat melded with yours, pushing and grinding, pulling from you an excitement that burned through your veins.

"You really wanna feel something?" He asked, breathing heavy against your bare neck as he began to fumble with your pants, his movements forceful and curt. Pulling at the knot he released it, letting your pants sag past your hips. He dug his nails into your side, indenting moons in your skin as his other hand went lower, stroking low around your hips to allow room to insert his leg between yours. With one hand on either side of your body he forced you down, making you grind against him. A broken moan left you.

You barely had the time to hold him, to ground yourself in his touch before he buried his face in your neck, biting so hard you could feel blood dripping down your collarbones. Shocked from the adrenaline your mouth hung open, the softest of whimpers falling between you.

"Come on, baby," he mumbled, once more pushing you down on his leg as he began to leave kisses in a trail up to your cheek. "I want you to grind on me."

"What?" You asked weakly, still caught up in the fact that this was an actual thing that was happening. God, the pain felt sweet. You could feel how hard he was beneath his pants, still grinding into your hips.

"Fucking grind," he hissed out, nails digging deeper into you. You gasped, pained and pleasured as he did so, hesitating only a second before you complied. "That's it," he whispered, kissing your temple when you moaned softly at the sensation.

It didn't take long till he was clawing at your shirt, tossing it onto the floor, but this time he ignored your fading scars in favor of working your pants off you. With his hands mostly off your skin, you gained enough mind to start pulling at his clothes, till both of you stood naked in the bathroom, pressed up against each other in a tangle of limbs and tongue. Now you could see just how you affected him, his cock against your stomach as he kissed you in the same frenzy he first kissed you with.

He prepared you for him slowly, almost caring, though the bite marks lining your shoulders and the marks on your hips said a far different story. With several of his fingers inside you he dug his other hand into his pocket, keeping you pinned with the whole of his body as he drew out your pocket knife. You watched it with a fervor – your knife, and you watched him, watched as he flicked open the blade, watched as he pressed it against the soft skin of your stomach, watched as the bruises indented and blood ran from a cut stark against the putrid yellow and green of your skin. You watched him run his finger over it, bringing the taste of your blood on his tongue before he kissed you, slow and methodical as his fingers left you.

Immediately you missed his warmth, missed being filled up like that, but he replaced himself well, hooking your left leg around his hip and sliding into you with one, smooth thrust. You murmured a sweet sigh, high and happy in all those ways you missed so dearly. Gentle but messy you kissed his cheek and his temple, waiting for the both of you to get used to the feeling before he moved.

As he pulled out slowly, he ran the knife against your skin, keeping the same beat as his hips. A long, shallow cut on your side, droplets of blood already beginning to pool, till he thrusted forcefully back in, squeezing the fresh cut as he did so. You choked on your breath – too much, not enough.

"I knew you'd like that," he mumbled, low and soft. "Fucking whore."

He kept that rhythm for a while – out slow, in fast, before he apparently tired of it. When that happened he pulled all the way out, spinning you around so you faced the mirror and thrusting right back into you, so deep that your head dropped, your muscles unable to fully work. He kept your pocket knife, leaving scrapes and tiny nicks on your back and chest, watching as the angry red slits swelled in the mirror, and if you were lucky, dripped crimson.

"Elliot," you mumbled breathlessly, too caught up in how he felt to inhabit your own body. How he filled you up, so warm and so rough, the fresh marks you could see all over your body. Just what you wanted. "God, El, please fuck me harder."

His fast-paced thrusts stopped suddenly, his cold eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

"Don't tell me what to do," he said, releasing your hip and curling your hair in his hands, yanking you back so hard you yelped. With his other hand he positioned the pocket knife right at your neck, the blade digging into your skin.

"El, please," you whispered, shutting your eyes.

"Look at yourself," he ordered, and you complied, slowly opening your eyes to see yourself across from you. Bloodied, beaten, sweaty, and needy, and plain pathetic. You couldn’t even tell your own marks from his.

Slowly he inched his way back in, watching your expression carefully till he rested at the hilt, his breathing uneven every time you tightened yourself around him.

"You really want to be this person?" He asked you, his voice suddenly soft, so different from how he was.

"I don't know how to be anything else," you said. It was true – normal people didn't like you, didn't understand you, and though less-than-normal people also didn't like you, they understood you a little better. That placed you with them. You couldn't be anyone else.

Fully sheathed inside you he traced his fingertips against your skin, every movement loving as he placed kisses along your shoulders and neck. He nuzzled against you – that warmth sent a shiver down your back. It was all he wanted, to be close to you, to hold you softly, but you had to go and hate yourself so harshly you wanted him to bleed you.

"I really liked you," he admitted softly, slowly opening his eyes to meet your reflection's gaze. "But you're sick."

"Get down of your high horse, Elliot," you said, voice rough from your own moans and whines, "you're here, just like me."

"I'm glad I got to see you anyways," he murmured, airy as he dug the blade just a little more deep into your skin, promising blood soon enough.

He withdrew the knife, something that sent relief through you. It wasn't even the dying aspect or the pain aspect that had you worried – it was the fact that if any of the nurses saw you with a cut on your neck, you'd be put in solitary with a straight jacket, and no one came out of that room sane. Elliot though, ever one to obey your wishes cut another line into your stomach, another into your hip as he fucked you hard and fast, just the way you'd asked him to.

One moment his thrusts were frantic and the next he halted, burying himself as deep inside of you as he could before he came, a quiet groan as he filled you up. With your own end reached you looked at yourself once more, across the bruises and the old and new cuts. Small pools of blood had gathered on the sink, dripping downwards towards the drain, where you recalled bleeding many times before.

Your arms shook as he pulled out, a weak feeling flooding your muscles as everything let go. The grip you held so tightly on the sink faded away, and your jaw unclenched, allowing you to look up into the mirror and watch him behind you. He was sorting his clothes from your own, his pants already on.

"Happy?" He asked, fluffing out one of the shirts in an attempt to see the size.

You were – at least you should've been. He'd done exactly what you asked of him.

But it wasn't enough.

He hurt you till you bled, clawed into your skin and bit so hard it broke you. It still wasn't enough, and for the first time you asked yourself, what will be enough? If he'd done all that and you still weren't satisfied, maybe it wasn't the pain. Maybe it was you.

Maybe he was right.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your knees giving out beneath you and letting you crumple to the floor. He didn't rush to your side, but he looked concerned enough, and dropped the shirt in favor of kneeling beside you.

"Wasn't enough, was it?" He said as though he knew, and you nodded.

With a heavy sigh he sat down on his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in, allowing you to rest your weight on him. It was nice. He was nice. He smelled sweet and he held you close, a pleasant weight around you with his warm breath atop your head, and a kiss to make it even. In return you showed affection – it was what he wanted after all, how he acted when in complete control with you at his mercy. You cradled yourself in his touch, let your heart beat wildly next to his, your lips pressing the sweetest and first kiss on his sternum. No one else had let you come that close to them.

He did, for some unknown reason. He let you come close to him.

You're terrified of hurting him.

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #mr. robot #rami malek #rami malek character #elliot alderson x male reader #elliot alderson x female reader #gender neutral reader #smut

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Glory fun, One shot

So, surprise! Couldn’t get the idea of Tom at a glory hole out of my head. Just a little dirty one shot that I enjoyed writing far too much.

Summary: Tom can’t help himself and decides to have some fun with a stranger at a glory hole.

Tom wasn’t sure why he had decided to have a few drinks at this particular club. It was dark and dingy, with weird club music. But with being away from home for so long, he really wanted to just let loose for a change. And besides, nobody seemed to know him here so it wasn’t like he would get hounded by the paparazzi for being at such an establishment.

He went to the bathroom after downing another drink, he was a little surprised to find the toilets were unisex. But he went in anyway and into one of the cubicles. He was taking a piss when he looked to his left and saw a reasonable sized hole in the wall, into the next cubicle. It had graffiti around it with arrows and said Insert cock here.

Tom chuckled to himself and shook his head. This place really was low standards compared to where he usually went.

He was just finishing when he heard someone enter the cubicle next to him. He knew it was a female because he heard her huffing while she sat down for a pee. Curiosity, and the high content of alcohol in his system, got the better of him. He leaned over and peeped through the hole, but from the angle he could just see part of a woman sitting on the toilet.

Tom thought for a moment, his cock still in his hand. He couldn’t… could he? It was so… pervy and wrong. But then, why was he starting to get hard at the thought of a quick release?

Kim was just finished having a pee and had just pulled up her knickers when she saw a cock coming through the hole from the next cubicle. At first she was disgusted, wondering what kind of perv was doing that.

But then, curiosity got the better of her. As far as penis’ go, it was a nice looking one. Quite long, too. She hadn’t had some fun in a long time, and she did come on holiday to let her hair down. So, what harm would it do?

She touched him, tentatively at first, his cock jerked from her touch. Kim then wrapped her hand around him and gave him a few strokes.

Tom let out a groan and closed his eyes at the feeling. He pushed his cock further through until he couldn’t go in any further. He heard a light giggle come from the girl, that made him grin.

Kim was feeling rather brave and she became aroused really quick from the situation. She crouched down and wrapped her lips around him, earning a grunt from the man. His cock grew harder as she took him in his mouth and swirled her tongue all around him, she had a tongue piercing and used that to her advantage.

Tom was panting like crazy as he reached up and grabbed the top of the cubicle wall, for something to hold onto. Her tongue piercing felt amazing on the underside of his cock. He wasn’t going to last long, but he didn’t care. This was already dirty enough, if he came quickly, he didn’t know her and would never see her again anyway.

But the choice of whether he would cum yet or not was taken away from him because she deep throated him, took him down as far as she could. And that was quite deep, surprising Tom.

‘Oh fuck!’ He moaned.

Kim’s ears perked up at hearing him. She was surprised to hear that he was British, too. She thought he might’ve been a local. But there was something else about that voice, she was sure she recognised it… But she couldn’t think where.

Tom was losing his mind with the way she started swallowing around him, making it almost feel like a warm and wet vacuum kind of feeling. He pulled back slightly and thrust forward, unable to stop himself from fucking her hot mouth.

‘Oh yes! That’s it! So good. Your pretty little mouth feels amazing.’

Kim felt a surge of arousal swim through her and she moved more eagerly, his voice was like beautiful sin.

That was the end of it for Tom, he started throbbing against her tongue and then he came. She kept swallowing around him, not wasting a single drop of his cum. Impressing Tom and making his orgasm all the stronger.

‘My god. Darling, that was sublime.’ He purred when he pulled out of her mouth with a pop, a long trail of saliva and cum left behind.

He looked down and saw her wipe her bright red lips with her fingers, then she licked her lips and moaned.

‘Why don’t you turn around and let me return the favour.’ Tom suggested and hooked his fingers on the hole, so she knew what he meant.

Kim was so turned on she didn’t even think twice about it. She dropped her knickers and flipped up her dress, then turned around and shoved herself at the hole.

Luckily Tom’s fingers were long enough he was able to start stroking her pussy, that was already soaking wet. Little whore must love giving blowjobs, he thought.

He stroked up and down her slit, then pushed two fingers into her. She started moaning unashamedly as he twisted and curled them. He wasn’t able to get too deep because of the cubicle being in the way, and the hole wasn’t large enough for his entire hand to get through. But he certainly made up for it with his technique.

Tom’s thumb dominated her quivering clit, rubbing it in firm circles continuously while he stroked her inside. She was pushing back against the wall as firmly as she could, wanting him deeper.

‘Deeper, please.’ She whimpered.

It was Tom’s turn to be surprised to hear that she was British as well. Probably on holiday, he thought. But for some reason that thought turned him on again.

He couldn’t get his fingers any deeper inside her, but he looked down and his cock was hard and raring to go again. So, he decided to take a chance…

Kim whined in disappointment when he pulled his fingers out. She was about to complain, saying she hadn’t cum yet, but all that came from her mouth was a delightful ‘Oooooo!’ When she felt the tip of his cock press against her folds.

When she didn’t move away, Tom took that as a good sign and sank into her. Getting nice and deep, just as she wanted. It took her body a moment to adjust to his size, Tom could feel her walls fluttering around him and squeezing.

‘Ohhh yes. Please!’ Kim whimpered and tried moving, she had put her hands on the opposite wall to keep herself steady, because her legs had turned to complete jelly.

Tom gripped the top of the wall and started thrusting into her roughly, with each thrust the wall was banging and moving. But neither of them cared, they didn’t even care if someone else walked into the bathroom, they wouldn’t see anything anyway but would certainly hear a lot.

‘You like this, huh? Little slut getting fucked in the dirty toilets by a stranger.’ Tom said huskily as he rammed into her. He was delighted when she started thrusting back and fore. Meeting his every thrust.

‘Oh, god… yes! Yes!’ Kim cried out, his voice was heavenly in her ears while his amazing cock plowed into her. He felt SO, GOOD!

Her whimpering and screaming was like music to Tom’s ears. Her body felt so wonderful around him, and he told her so.

‘Touch your little clit, rub it hard while I fuck you.’ He demanded with a growl.

Kim obeyed and with one hand still supporting herself on the wall, she reached down and started rubbing her clit in time with his thrusting.

Tom knew she was doing it by the change of tone in her moaning, and he could feel her starting to tighten and clamp down on him.

‘That’s it. My good little slut.’ He purred and then lost it himself, thrusting once more deeply into her he stilled and shot rope after rope of his sperm deep into her. Neither of them thinking about what just happened.

Kim’s mouth was open and she could barely think straight, her own orgasm wracked over her and she fell forward onto the opposite wall, breathing hard as she tried to get herself back under control.

Tom stumbled back against the opposite wall too. He was panting like a dog, never had he came so hard before. It was just so wrong and dirty, but he’d absolutely loved it.

It was a couple of minutes before either of them moved. Tom tucked himself away and Kim pulled her knickers back up and straightened herself out.

Tom leaned against the wall between them. ‘Are you alright, darling?’

‘Y… yes. Thank you. That was… amazing.’ She said, still breathing hard.

Tom chuckled. ‘That was indeed. I should be thanking you.’

There was a pause, then Tom heard the door of her cubicle opening but by the time he opened his and stepped out, she was gone. The door of the bathroom was just closing. He took in a deep breath and went to the sink to wash his hands, that’s when he realised his hands were shaking.

‘Jesus, Tom. What was that?’ He muttered to himself and splashed some cool water on his face.

He should’ve bene disgusted at himself for it. But instead he kept thinking about how tight her pussy was around him, those delightful whimpers he pulled from her. And also those sweet lips wrapped around his cock…

Shit. He was getting hard again. He tried to think of anything else but her to will himself to calm down. And with another splash to his face, he headed back out into the sweaty and dark club.

The following day, Tom decided to go to a local sex shop. He wanted to get some, toys, to help him get through the rest of his trip. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from the club though, his libido was through the roof and he had a feeling it would be for a while.

Kim went into a sex shop, in hopes of getting something to satisfy her needs. After that stranger last night in the club, she had been so damn horny. Unable to think of anything else but him.

She thought if she at least got a nice sized dildo and some extra toys, that might help ease her needs.

After grabbing a basket, she found a dildo that was about the same size as the stranger, she thought. Then she went down the aisles and decided to take a look at some blindfolds and ball gags, perhaps if she did some bondage to herself while playing it might make it more fun.

But there were so many different kinds, it was difficult knowing which one to choose. She picked up a rather large ball gag, but wasn’t sure.

‘I’d highly recommend this one, if it’s your first time with a ball gag.’ Came a sultry voice from beside her as a long finger pointed at a different ball gag.

Kim was stunned, that voice… She turned her head and her eyes widened, she couldn’t believe it. It was Tom Hiddleston! But then… the voice. No… it couldn’t have been, could it?

‘Sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to startle you.’ Tom said, noting the wide-eyed look on her face. ‘It’s just that with this ball, you can still breathe through it because of the holes. It’s usually best for beginners.’ He smiled.

But his smile changed when he looked at her. The look on her face was now one of recognition, that confused him at first. Though his eyes were drawn to her lips, luscious red lips… No, surely it wasn’t?

‘I’m sorry, have we… met before?’ Tom asked.

‘I… I don’t know.’ She said quietly.

The penny dropped. Tom definitely recognised that voice. And Kim noted the look of recognition on his face and she realised… yep. It was. The stranger from last night, was none other than Tom bloody Hiddleston.

Tom’s smile grew larger and also a light blush spread across his cheeks. He put his hand out towards her. ‘Nice to meet you, darling. My name is Tom.’

Kim took a minute to focus, then she put her hand in his and blushed hard. ‘My name… my name is Kim.’ She stuttered.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Kim.’ He purred and brought her hand up to his lips, he kissed over her knuckles that made her swoon.

‘I… I think the pleasure is all mine.’ She whispered and bit her lip.

Tom locked eyes with her and they both started laughing.

‘Well, perhaps it is both of ours.’ He winked at her.

#Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #one shot #glory fun

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tonyspepper · 4 years

Text

Pepperony Week 2020:

↳ day 1: highschool au · MESSAGES OF LOVE

Their story began the day he left his number on the stall wall of the unisex bathroom—not imagining anyone would even pay much attention to it—and a text message from an unknown number arrived only half an hour later during math class. He remembered asking her how she was doing, and her telling him that it was the worst week ever and she just needed someone to talk to.

Rated M.

Read below the cut or on AO3

He thought it was a one-time thing, a few messages back and forth and that was it, but she texted him about her day and her frustrations for over six months, before he had mustered the courage to ask her to send a photo of herself so he knew what she looked like. When he saw her blue eyes, the tiny red freckles on her skin and the strawberry blond hair, his smile broadened in appreciation. How come he had just walked passed her in the hallway for all these years, never noticing her beauty?

She was an angel in tight fitting jeans, armed with a sharp tongue and a sassy attitude—her text messages spoke of that. She was his angel. His heart knew it from the moment he saw her. But, his mind just wouldn't allow the thought to enter for another six months of exchanging text messages until he finally asked her out on a date. When she said yes, it was one of the happiest days of his life. But of course he messed it up with her first chance he got. He always messed up the few good things he had in his life. Thank God she forgave him for being a complete asshole.

Their first time had been marked by a certain amount of reserve—insecurity—on the part of both of them, because contrary to what she believed, it was the first time for him too. After pretending to know everything about the mechanics of sex, so much so that he actually started to believe it himself, it felt good to have found someone with whom he didn’t have to pretend anymore. He could be vulnerable. He could be weak. He could be hurt, angry or sad. She made him feel like he could be anything. All he really wanted, though, was to just be himself, and she let him. Better yet, she loved him.

Two years had passed since he wrote that damn number on the stall wall, and she was still there, right by his side. They were camping out in the bed of his truck, alternating between making out and watching the stars, while listening to sounds of the night—crickets chirping and a mild breeze brushing through the sparse shoreline grass as the ocean waves rippled onto the sand. His back huddled against the driver’s cabin. She sat between his legs, leaning backwards into his chest, and he had his arms wrapped around her tightly.

He would have to leave her tomorrow, because his father didn’t want to waste any time to ship him, like a package, out to the East coast where he was going to study. And while he knew he should be proud to have been given the opportunity to attend his dream college at the age of 16, he was consumed by unrelenting sadness. He‘d give up everything to be with her forever. Everything. But they didn’t have forever. They only had a few more hours. They had this night. One last night before they had to say goodbye for God knew how long.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Pepper said, stroking a hand down his forearm. She heard him breathe deeply, felt his chest move behind her back, and she closed her lids against everything but the feel of his weight against her. Her fingers curled around his arm as she rested her hands on his that were clasped against her stomach. The silky strands of her hair brushed lightly against his face as he nuzzled her neck. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna forget about me,” he mumbled after a short pause, sighing heavily again. “I know how this works, Pep... You’re gonna tell me not to worry, because nothing will change between us. That we will talk every day. But days will turn into weeks, then months... and then it’ll be like I never existed, because you’ll find someone else.“

“I found you,” she said quietly. “And I don’t want anyone else.”

Tony pulled her even closer, kissing her hair over and over again. He was so desperate to hold on to her, to never let her go.

“Where is this coming from?” Pepper wondered, thinking. “It’s your dad, isn’t it?” Howard had always thought of her as nothing but a distraction, keeping Tony from going after what he wanted. He never really cared about his son, and about what Tony wanted. “He said something about me that upset you.”

Tony managed a forced chuckle. It broke the spell of the tension that was threatening to cripple his brain. She knew him so well. She knew him in ways no one else did. No one else could.

“You know when we had that pregnancy scare last year and I freaked out at the thought of becoming a dad at sixteen?” He felt her nod. “He said you did it on purpose... Not taking the pill.”

She quickly turned around, almost head-butting him in the process, and stared at him, eyes wide in shock. A laugh tore from his dry throat. He cupped a hand around her cheek, feathered his thumb across her skin, and smiled apologetically.

“I know it wasn’t true. You’re not like that.”

“What did I ever do to him to make him hate me?”

“My dad?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he said. “But he doesn’t hate you, Pepper, he just thinks—“

“His son should be with someone who doesn’t have an opinion, says yes and amen to everything, and, all the other times, keeps her damn mouth shut.”

“Yeah, it really didn’t help when you called him an asshole,” Tony said, laughing.

“So what’s he saying now?”

“That a girl like you has guys lining up for her, and once I’m out of the picture, there will be someone else, so I better focus on my future instead of girls... you in particular.”

Pepper had to laugh at how stupid that sounded. Then she smirked, as she dipped her head toward his, brushing her lips lightly across Tony’s mouth, touching the corner of his mouth with her tongue. “So your dad thinks I’m hot?”

“Don’t say it like that’s turning you on,” he said, giggling.

She chuckled, gazing into his eyes. There was a moment of silence, before she spoke. “Do you worry about that, though? Like, for real?”

Again, he shrugged his shoulders. “If there’s one thing my father and I agree on it’s that there are a lot of guys out there who’d love to be in my place.”

“But they’re not,” she softly reminded him, smiling.

“Yeah, they’re not...”

Pepper thought his laugh to be a bit nervous. It was funny how sure of himself he always seemed to be, except when they were alone. It was cute. It was goddamn adorable.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Sometimes I wonder how you can be so sure of that at sixteen,” he muttered. Worried that she may take his comment the wrong way, he kissed her. “But I love you too.”

“Give me your hand.”

“Why?” he asked, confused.

“Just give me your damn hand, Tony,” she challenged him, smirking. He held his hand out to her and she took it, placing it on her chest so it covered her heart. “Now kiss me.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, and not just any kiss, but the mother of all kisses. Tony knew how to kiss, treated it like an art form, and she was lost. Her heart pounded against her chest, as if it were the only drum in a dance of death. Pepper’s fingers splayed across his abs, generating enough heat to brand his skin through his shirt. She sighed, a sexy moan that curled into his groin. Then she pushed him away gently, making sure that he kept his hand where her heart was.

“You feel that?” she asked, smiling softly now, and he nodded, with a warm smile on his lips. “That’s how I can be sure.” He could see her happiness, so much of it that it overwhelmed her and drove her to tears instead. Long-fingered hands slid against his temples and cupped his face. “And I’m gonna miss you so much.” Pepper’s voice cracked on the last word and she dragged in an uneven breath.

Tony looked into her eyes, seeing as always into her soul, so open and giving and filled with love for him, as his was for her. She would always be all he ever needed, and he knew he’d never be able to find another somebody as perfect for him as she was. Pepper was the one thing he couldn’t live without, and he was sure of that beyond the shadow of a doubt. He needed her completely. And there were times when he was maddened by how much she meant to him. She was the one thing he couldn’t imagine losing. And she was saying the one thing he couldn’t bare hearing.

They looked lovingly, longingly into one another’s eyes and there was no question about what would happen next. In slow motion, she watched his face descend toward hers. Neither of them closed their eyes. Even when Tony was so close she could feel his breath on her skin she couldn’t draw her eyes away. Their lips gently touched and she finally lowered her lashes, hanging on to his shirt. He pressed harder against her lips, his right hand already moving downward across the small of her back. She moaned. He groaned. She released his shirt and lifted her hands to the back of his head, pulling his mouth tighter.

The soft and sweet taste of her lips rocked Tony to his core. He felt the want, the need to taste every bit of her, without hurrying, yet the idea of waiting even another moment to make love to her seemed almost beyond his ability. But Pepper wanted to set the pace. He could live with that. He knew control was a hot button for her, especially in bed. So when she took his hands and guided them to the hem of her shirt, she didn't need to ask him twice to pull it over her head.

“Is that lingerie?” Tony smirked, seeing what was underneath. The lacy bra covering Pepper’s breasts had to be one of the sexiest pieces of clothes he had ever laid eyes on. “I’m getting the special treatment tonight,” he sneered, licking his lips, as he trailed along the fabric with one finger, looking at her. “Can't believe I had to leave first before you put one of these on...”

“Hey!” Pepper protested loud, almost laughing. “One more word and you ain't getting nothing.”

“Mhm... No talking.” He trailed kisses down her neck to the valley between her breasts. “Got it,” he whispered, feeling her heart race beneath his lips. Tony lingered in tasting her, feeling her, and Pepper couldn't deny that what he was doing felt incredibly good. He smoothed his palms down her sides and his big hands enclosed her waist. He tried lifting her up, so she was free to shimmy her denim skirt past her hips—they both chuckled against each other's lips at Pepper’s struggle to undress.

When he pulled his mouth away for a second, Pepper quickly grabbed his shirt to get it off of him. The pulse beating between her legs made her restless and edgy, but she could feel in just about the same spot that she certainly wasn't the only one who was itching for more physical contact. She loved the feeling of Tony’s hardness nudging between her thighs, and she pressed herself against him as if to meld into his body, wanting to feel him more.

Pushing her onto her back, Tony tasted her lips again. He couldn't bear his mouth to be far from hers. The kiss deepened as passion grew between them. His hands were cupping her face, Pepper’s fingers skimmed up his back. He lifted one strap of her bra off her shoulder, tugged it down her arm and broke the kiss, but only to slid his lips over her neck, kissing from the front to the sides to the back. He nipped on her earlobe, making her moan with pleasure—and then he stopped.

“Tony?“ Staring at him with confusion and worry written on her face, Pepper reached up and ran her fingers through his curls. His hair had gotten so long that it dangled in a dark brown hank over his left eye. She loved it. It made him look both cute and sexy. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. Then he paused, and finally, as he admitted to himself that having to let her go, if only for a while, was the hardest thing he ever had to do, shook his head. “No.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m not okay.” He reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear. “It just hit me that this is the last time you and I—“ Gazing into her eyes, Tony sighed deeply. “God, you are so beautiful!” It was hard finding words with feelings like that of first love dancing around wildly inside of him. “I wish I could—“

Pepper put her finger to his mouth. “Shhh. Don’t do that,” she whispered.

“Do what?”

“You’re saying goodbye,” she said. “But we’re not gonna do this tonight.” Panic rose in Pepper’s breast, and she swallowed hard, forcing her tears away. “I don’t wanna say goodbye... not tonight.” Not ever, she thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, flashing her one of those beautiful smiles that could melt her heart, and feathered his thumb across her temple.

As Pepper felt the warmth of his fingers against her scalp and saw the deep affection in his eyes, her body trembled with emotion. Her heart started to beat faster, almost bursting with love, and she slung an arm around his neck, bringing her face closer to his.

“Don’t be sorry.” Brushing her lips across Tony’s, she whispered to him, “Just love me,” and slid down the straps of her bra.

He slowly explored the curves of her lips. Slipping his tongue into the depths of the sweetness of her mouth. Pepper trembled at the gentle exploration. He took her bra off, exposing her breasts to his gaze and his hands. She gasped softly in the night when her breasts were touched by his lips, his tongue sliding over her taut nipples. He quickly stripped away his clothes, and she watched him, biting down hard on her bottom lip when Tony faced her in his full naked glory. She was bewitched by his charms, seduced by his muscular, virile body, and was crazy in love.

Tony fumbled for the condoms in his rear pocket, hastily taking them out, before throwing his pants to the side. He hated these things, but he knew protection went both ways. Besides, after thinking he had gotten her pregnant last year he’d rather be safe than sorry. His hands weren’t entirely steady as he tore open the condom packet, his eyes focusing on her, and how she was slowly tugging her panties down her legs. He almost dropped it, chuckled nervously when he saw her grin. A moan came out of his mouth as he started to roll the condom on. Pepper’s hand joined his, her small palm working the latex over his dick.

Pepper saw the look on his face, as she slowly slid the condom on, and smirked. “Don’t come,” she said, giggling. “We haven’t even started yet.”

He chuckled deep in his throat, remembering the one time that had actually happened, and captured her head and brought his mouth down on hers in a crushing kiss. “You are so sexy,” he murmured as his lips drifted to the curve of her throat.

She tugged him forward, her grip firm on his erection. Pepper wanted him so much she could hardly think straight. Every cell in her body was on fire. She licked her lips that still tasted of him and spread her legs wide, lifted her hips, desperate to have him inside her. He moaned as she brought him to her. Their eyes met as he thrust in with one long stroke, making her take him all.

“Oh God, yes,” she moaned and shifted around, wrapping her legs around his hips. “That feels so good.” She gave a soft command, “More.”

Tony pushed himself deeper into her body, not stopping until his pelvis collided with hers, and then he withdrew until the head was at the peak. When he plunged in again, her eyes remained locked on him, and he let his focus laser in on the sight as he stretched her pussy in every direction. Her breath hitched in her throat and then her lungs cleared in a precipitated slam.

“Tony...”

Her eyes were dark and wet and so hauntingly beautiful, he was sure he’d see this in his dreams—dreams were all he would have left in Massachusetts. He fell into another passionate kissing spell as he increased his rhythm, smothering her face and her forehead, breasts and shoulders. Then he moved to her neck and began marking her where everyone would be able to see it. Purposely choosing a place where his mark couldn't be hidden, he sucked Pepper’s skin into his mouth, branding her as his. Her fingernails cut into his back, prompting a deep groan from him.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Pepper stretched her arms over her head guiding him to pin her down, and he did it, intertwining his fingers with hers and holding her in place while he made love to her. She cried out in pain and pleasure. His breathing became a pleasure pant of his own. He pumped into her, his cock nudging her deepest spot, his width spreading her. His mouth hovered over hers but he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he went further down to her breasts, his lips leaving a hot trail on her skin. When his tongue shot out and rolled roughly over the sensitive peak of her nipple, she gasped.

”Don’t stop... Don’t you dare stop!“

A delicious tightness gripped her flesh, the burn of her release so close she ached. She wanted to free her arms but he wouldn’t let her. He groaned loud and continued his pace until a primal sound pressed into his ears and her body sunk deep into the inflatable air mattress lining the truck bed. Their fingers were still laced but the muscles in Pepper’s hand, along with the rest in her body had lost all tension. Tony, with a muffled shout, surged deeply within her and his entire body shook and spasmed against her.

He waited until his breathing had steadied, then he cupped his cock and, holding on to the base of the condom, slipped it off. He reached over for one of the paper napkins they had used for dinner and wiped himself off with it, then placed the condom inside and put both away.

Pulling himself up to lay his head on her belly, he closed his eyes and listened to her breathing, felt his head bob with each of her shallow breaths. As he traced a random pattern along the length of her forearm he was unaware of time. They could lay there for a minute or a year and he wouldn't know the difference. There was only the cocoon they had built around themselves, shutting out the rest of the world, a world that wanted them apart.

He felt her start to laugh before he heard it and he picked his head up to look at her. She looked back at him, smirking.

“What’s so funny?” he wondered.

Pepper reached out to stroke his hair and Tony burrowed against her and closed his eyes, wishing he would never have to open them again. He wanted to stay in her arms forever and just smell, feel and breathe her.

“The way you inspected that condom like it‘s an antique vase,” she answered.

He chuckled. “You saw that?”

“You know I’m still on the pill, Tony, so even if it broke...”

“Just don’t want it to be like the last time we were...”

With a small sigh, he shifted in her arms and then ran his hand across her belly and into the triangle of reddish hair below. She gave a soft gasp and he smiled at the way she reacted to his touch.

“Have you...” She swallowed, feeling her cheeks flush. “Have you ever thought about what our life would be like if—”

“You actually had been pregnant?” he finished her sentence and slowly raised himself on an elbow to look her in the eyes. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Every single day,” and let his words linger for a moment. Grazing her cheek with his fingers, he smiled softly. “Even now.”

Touched by his honesty, she took his face into her hands and kissed him, their naked bodies melting into one. “We would make beautiful babies,” she whispered, as they broke apart, smirking at him.

His smile grew until his lips couldn't stretch any more and the white of his teeth sparkled like a neon sign. ”A little practice can’t hurt, right?”

“You mean even if we won’t have a baby anytime soon?” She grinned. He nodded. “Well, how many condoms do you have left, Mr. Stark?”

Pepper put an innocent look on her face, but her big blue eyes held a determined glint, one that only served to add weight to the desire already settled in Tony’s gut.

“Enough to get us through the night, Ms. Potts,” he replied, and his smirk widened. “But first...”

“What?” she asked.

“I’m gonna taste you.”

He leaned his face down and kissed her mound of pubic curls, spreading open the lips of her sex and running his fingertips gently up and down her slit. She gasped, then moaned and leaned further into him, as he suckled on her wetness, his tongue probing deep inside her, licking her like an ice cream cone, savoring each long stroke.

“Oh, my... Fuck, babe... Yes,” she moaned, pushing his head deeper, letting him know what she truly wanted. She opened herself for him, hooking her legs around his shoulders and capturing his head between her thighs.

“Better,” he growled and suckled her nub, licking hard and fast.

They woke up the next morning from the bliss of an entire night of love-making. Their muscles were sore, their skin covered in mosquito bites and their backs hurt from sleeping on a mattress that had no air left in it, thanks to their last round of rough sex a few hours ago. But they had never been happier as in that moment when the sun rose above the ocean, almost making it seem like it was going to be the most beautiful day of their lives. Reality hit them soon, and hard, when they arrived at the airport. It was just the two of them, like last night, like they wished it would always be.

Tony forced a smile as he came back from the check-in desk. They could stand around and talk, go and get a coffee or simply make out and extend the goodbye but it was all just too painful. At the end of the day, he was still going away.

Pepper gasped at the feel of Tony reaching out and touching her cheek, and she tilted her head into his hand. The smile on his beautiful lips was so sad. She found herself wishing to see his goofy happy smile again. The one he’d worn all night.

“I think I’ll go through customs now,” he said softly, and she quickly shook her head. “Pep, I have to—“

“Please just a few more minutes,” she pleaded.

Grabbing him by the shirt that was half-unbuttoned, she pulled him closer to her, and then moved her hand slowly inside the opening and grazed the scar on his chest. Tracing the outline of it with her index finger, Pepper stared at the mark on his skin like she was drawn to it by a spell.

It was only a few months ago that Tony lay in a hospital bed, recovering from open-heart surgery to replace an abnormal aortic valve that had become further diseased by a staph infection. The six-hour surgery to repair his heart had gone smoothly. He was fine, technically, not even needed any blood thinners, but the vertical incision in his chest along the sternum would always be a reminder to them to cherish every moment they had together. Life could be over in the blink of an eye. They needed to make it count.

“I have something for you,” she told him, looking back up. “It’s in your bag, but you can’t open it until you’re...” She swallowed. “Until you’re on the plane.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his eyes memorize every detail of her face. He was stunningly beautiful. She memorized his face from the curve of his lips to his shining almond eyes, eyes that were now starting to well up with tears. She couldn’t remember a time she had ever seen him cry.

“I love you so much,” she murmured but then her voice cracked as they both realized that this was it.

Pepper reached up gently and wiped away the tears with her thumb as one of her hands cupped his face, and then she drew close and kissed him. Tears were pouring down her cheek, but she knew she had to be strong. For his sake. She didn’t want to make this harder on him than it already was. So she kept telling herself that maybe it was good for him. Maybe his abused soul was finally going to be able to heal when he was miles away from a father that treated him so badly. Tony was so fragile underneath his bold exterior, so soft. Maybe this was what he had to do.

With a heart aching to hold on to the man she loved, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him for all she was worth, as if she might never let him go. Pepper told him that he was making the right choice, that it would be okay and they would get through this. God, she hoped they would. They were so young, so full of life and adventure, and the constant drive to experience new things. The questions that fed her doubts scared her, making her hug him tighter. She tried pushing aside her own hurts and fears not to cry again. He didn’t need to see any more of her tears.

Tony closed his eyes, running his hands up and down her back, and then he held still, just hugging her, as he breathed in her scent. She still smelled like the ocean. He tried to memorize the feel of her body against his: all soft and warm and curves. For all he knew, this was the last time in months, maybe even a year, that he’d be able to touch her. He squeezed his eyes against the moistness in them, then pulled back and took her face into both hands. Her beauty was enough to enslave the soul of any man, but for Tony her true beauty was within her soul. He admired her as a person more so than anyone he had ever met.

“I’ll dream about you.” He brushed his thumbs over her wet cheeks, while a smile crept over his face, but his eyes were oceans of sadness. “Because it’s always you,” he whispered.

He leaned over, gently kissing her. The kiss was tender, and filled with love. Pepper was not sure she had ever felt this amount of love flooding her being before. As he kissed her, Tony grasped her hand and pressed her palm against his heart.

“This is how much I love you, Pepper Potts.” His words were a breath against her lips. They looked deep into each other's eyes, only inches apart, and time seemed to stand still for a moment. “Don’t ever forget that.”

They had another hug, and then Pepper stood and watched as her boyfriend headed towards customs and showed his passport and boarding pass. Just as he went past the point of no return, Tony paused and turned around briefly. He showed her a smile—one last smile, and he made sure that it was the happiest smile he could muster in this moment. He didn’t want her to remember him with a face full of sadness. He wanted her to remember him the way he was when he was with her. She smiled back at him and he turned around, feeling like with every step, the hole inside him kept opening, wider and wider like a huge black mouth.

Only when Tony had gone did Pepper’s smile disappear and Pepper felt the dam breaking then. As she walked back to the car she could hardly see where she was going because her eyes were swimming in tears. She climbed in and just sat there and cried like she never had in her life. This was not how she had imagined first love to be. She was supposed to be happy, but her heart was hurting so much that she just wanted to scream.

She knew nothing really lasted forever, and that the chances of them staying together after high school had been really slim from the start, because life never turned out like that—definitely not hers—but they should’ve at least had until graduation. She should’ve had two more years to prepare for the worst, but now Tony was gone, and it had happened so fast that she hadn’t even had enough time to process it. She realized that now, realized how deep in denial she had lived, not wanting to face the reality of having to say goodbye to him. If this was real love, she didn’t want it.

Remember when you told me you don’t have a heart?

It was when she had texted him about losing her mother. Tony remembered it so clearly, because it was the first thing he had found out about Pepper. Her mother was the very reason she had started talking to him. She had felt so lost without her, and he had been there for Pepper through all of it, helping her to find herself again.

I found it, honey!

Tony was confused for a moment, as she hadn’t written anything else on the little note he had found, but then he frantically tossed items out of his backpack until he saw what appeared to be a book, decoratively wrapped up.

He opened the gift, turned it around and looked at it. The book’s cover was a muted maroon, with golden letters on the front, reading Proof that Tony Stark has a heart. Frowning, he flipped to the first page. The second he saw the screenshot of an iMessage conversation, he started grinning foolishly.

Hi stranger! Is this number legit? Ugh tell me you’re not a creep pls

Depends on who you ask

I just need someone to talk to

You got me How are you?

Having the worst week ever!

Why?

Cause my mom died

Oh God I'm really sorry for your loss

Have you ever had your heart broken?

I don't have one

Wow that's convenient

Ikr!! Think so too

Tony skipped forward a few pages.

How was the funeral? You okay?

I just wanna cry

What about a hug? You want a hug? I give good hugs

Hug me

*hugs you*

Is that all?

*hugs you tight*

That's better thank you

Told you I give good hugs

It hurts so much

I know but I'm here for you So if you wanna talk about your mom... I'm listening

And a few more.

What should I call you? I’m so tired of calling you stranger

Handsome stranger

Idk if you’re handsome tho

Very

God you’re an idiot but you always make me laugh

Hours later, Tony was still browsing through the book full of screenshots. He didn’t even know Pepper had saved all of their conversations. Everything was right there in that book. Their whole history, printed out and arranged over more than a hundred pages, like a journal.

Will you send me a photo of you if I ask nicely?

You haven’t asked me yet

I’d love to see your face

That's not a question

You’re a damn hard nut to crack I just can’t stop picturing your face So can I see it? I imagine you look beautiful

Cheesy but cute :’) That's me and my mom...

Tony smiled at all the memories that came flooding back to him. No one had ever given him anything that special. It was a work of art, so full of love, he couldn’t stop reading.

I'd like to take you out on a date

A date? I don’t even know what you look like

That's because you never asked All the more reason to meet me

I'm scared tbh I don't wanna ruin what we have :( What if we don't like each other?

That would really suck I don't have anyone but you

You're all I have too you know

If I show you my face will you promise not just to go out with me bc I look so sexy?

As he felt himself slowly drifting off to sleep, his eyelids becoming heavy, Tony rested his head against the airplane’s headrest and hugged the book to his chest. He closed his eyes, thinking of her, until eventually he was dreaming of being back in her arms again. Forever this time.

_______________________________________________

Reaching the auditorium, Pepper paused before going inside the building. She couldn’t believe that the day had finally come and she was graduating high school. She had so many memories of her time there—some were good, some were bad. To know that it was all over now felt kind of strange. Unreal. A lot had happened in her senior year, some things she’d rather forget about, but she was grateful for the lows, too, as they made her appreciate all the good things she had even more. College would be a totally different experience for her. A new one. The time to really start focusing on her future and what she wanted in life, and what she didn’t want.

But something was missing. Or rather someone. It just didn’t feel right to take her walk to the center of the stage and pick up her diploma cover without Tony being there. He had been such a huge part of high school for her, and had shaped her life in ways he probably didn’t even understand that she really wished he could be there. So much had happened between them, she sometimes wondered how her life had turned out if she hadn’t texted his number that day. Would she still be the same person that she was now?

Pepper closed her eyes at the memory of Tony’s scent, of the drowning depths of his brown eyes. She missed him. She had always missed him. But today... Today she missed him the most.

“I am so infinitely proud of you, Pepper Potts,” a low voice sounded.

Startled, she turned on her heel. And there he stood right behind her, just as she remembered him from the last time she saw him, except he had cut his long locks so they were now a halo of curls. He looked so handsome with the bright sun shining on him; so beautiful with that wide, charming smile softening his mouth.

“Tony?” she said, not believing her own eyes.

He walked over to her and, after all those long hours on the plane of yearning for her touch, finally took her hands into his. “Hi, stranger,” he rasped.

“You came,” Pepper whispered, tears collecting in her eyes. “You really came.”

“Of course I came,” he whispered back. “You think I’d miss this?” He smiled, as his fingers ran over the back of her hands, stroking her skin. “I already missed prom. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Her surprise rendered her speechless.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry for ever making you doubt that.” Tony bent forward, leaning into her, his eyes focused on her mouth. He kissed her, long and deeply, until they both ran out of air and came up gasping. He had never forgotten the feel of her lips on his, the sweet taste that was hers alone. It would be easier to forget to breathe. “3000,” he whispered.

“W-What?”

“That’s how much I love you.”

“You can’t love me 3000. That doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled, still completely taken aback by the fact he was standing right in front of her.

Slowly, Tony grabbed her hand and put it over his racing heart, like that one time at the airport. “You feel that?” he asked, half smiling, half smirking. “That’s gotta be 3000 beats per minute.”

She laughed softly, and her smile was radiant, as if he’d given her the most precious gift in the world. And perhaps he had. Pepper gazed at him with such shining love, it took his breath away. Whatever had happened in the past, it didn’t matter. The future didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they always found their way back to each other, however hampered by doubts and fears.

Tony enveloped her in his arms and fervently kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet, familiar aroma of her hair. How good it felt to hold her. There was nothing more real than this.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, stroking her silky red tresses soothingly.

The intensity of the emotion in his voice had a powerful effect upon Pepper. Her eyes watered to near overflowing and she closed them, hugging him tighter, wishing he would never leave her again.

“I’ve missed you too,” she breathed.

#pepperony #pepperonyweek20 #tony stark #pepper potts #charlie writes

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thechoir-roomhq · 3 years

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WELCOME TO THE CHOIR ROOM, KODI KAROFSKY (brigette lundy-paine fc),

here is your SCHEDULE! you have twenty-four hours to turn in your account and post an intro. good luck and have fun with the semester!

[BRIGETTE LUNDY-PAINE, NONBINARY, THEY/THEM] who’s that? oh it’s {DAKOTA “KODI” KAROFSKY}. i hear they’re {16} and a {JUNIOR} at {WMHS}, have a voice like {BRIGETTE LUNDY-PAINE} and are part of {TENNIS, WRESTLING (CAPTAIN), and QUEER COLLECTIVE}. they’re known to be {PASSIONATE & PROTECTIVE} and {CRITICAL & HARD-HEADED}. some people say they remind them of {MEN’S JERSEYS & OVERSIZED HOODIES, WORN OUT CONVERSE, COMBAT BOOTS WITH SKIRTS, BLOODY KNUCKLES & BUSTED LIPS}. only one way to find out! [meg, 28, she/her, est]

⦁ Ever since they could remember, they knew that they were always not a girl - even before they officially came out, they were seen as a tomboy, someone that liked to get rough and rowdy and dirty with the other kids at the school. It was just something that they knew, but it wasn’t until they were twelve that they realized there was a term for it - and that it wasn’t uncommon. Socially transitioning was easy, really; sure, some people slipped up in the beginning, as to be expected, but most of their friends were welcomed it because to them, Kodi was just Kodi - they were always “one of the guys” that didn’t mind playing tackle football or a game of shirts versus skins in the rain. ⦁ One thing Kodi definitely prefers is more masculine pet names - like dude or bro - as opposed to honey or baby, but they don’t mind if people call them by their birth name because it is a unisex name. And, in their opinion, they felt as though Dakota had a more masculine resonance to it, too. The one thing that they absolutely cannot stand is for people to use feminine pronouns, and they are quick to correct someone and let them know that though they were born a female, they are not one and they would like to be addressed as such. Getting called a boy or someone using male pronouns, on the other hand, has them laughing before correcting - because even though they are being misgendered, they’re being misgendered in the opposite direction that they’re normally used to and its something that they absolutely do not mind as much as being misgendered as a girl. ⦁ Sports have always been a part of Kodi’s life, even before coming to McKinley and needing an outlet for their anger and frustration. How could it not, when your father was Dave Karofsky - a high school athlete turned sports agent? Whenever he was home and he had the tickets, he’d take Kodi to various sports events and enrolled Kodi in karate & tae-kwon-do, wanting his child to know how to defend themselves. It was something that bonded the two, and though Kodi doesn’t want to make a career out of athletics, Kodi does love that they have something to bond with their father - especially considering that he’s often out of town working most of the time. ⦁ Like their father, Kodi has a bit of a temper, though theirs tends to flare up at close-minded punks that mess with Kodi or anyone else that they deem “different” or “weird”. Because of this, one of Kodi’s (many) nicknames around McKinley is “kid fury” because of their similarities to their father - and that being his old nickname of his own - and they are definitely known to spend some time in the principals office or in detention hall. They’ve even been suspended a couple of times, the first being on their first day at McKinley after a kid asked what was in their pants and the last being just a couple of weeks before Christmas break - they spent that time off with their grandparents in Los Angeles. ⦁ When they arrived at McKinley, they were appalled at the lack of gender-neutral bathrooms (at their old school, they actually had them) and the general lack of queer and genderqueer education. And they were even disgusted when they found that there wasn’t a queer club at the school - not even a gay-straight-alliance. Wanting to make a space that would educate those about gender and sexual identities, while also creating a safe space for queer folks to come together and find a community and allies to come and educate themselves or support their queer friends, they were able to create the Queer Collective during the second semester of their freshman year. This year they’ve taken a step back from running the group as president, but they are an active member that urges all students at McKinley to attend one meeting to educate themselves and open their minds. Even the ones that they often stand up to, and sometimes fight, they recommend that they get their heads out of their asses and get with the times. ⦁ Though they are definitely very much out and proud, and very confident about this fact, when it comes to their love life? They’re definitely not as confident. They’ve had crushes over the years, sure, but for the most part, Kodi hasn’t made a move on anyone because they’re worried - worried that they’re too masculine for a lesbian or too feminine for a straight girl. It’s why they’re a virgin, why they haven’t kissed anyone outside of spin the bottles, and why their list of exes is nonexistent. They know that they shouldn’t have anything to worry about because they were awesome and an absolute bamf, but even someone as confident as Kodi had their insecurities every now and then.

#accepted #karofsky #brigette lundy-paine #submission

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boyfriend-cal · 5 years

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Walk Me Home - Calum Hood

description: the cliche ‘pretend to be my boyfriend’ thing bc I love cliches, and just a heads up it’s very cheesy

masterlist , requests, taglist

special thank you to @moonchildsblack, @sunny-sos, & @heartbreak-5sos for encouraging me!!

word count: 3k

She’d been sitting at a booth in the crowded bar for an hour now, maybe more. Her friends had gone to the dance floor, and as usual, she took the ‘seat saver’ job to watch everyone’s drinks and belongings. It was okay, she didn’t mind. She never cared.

Actually, tonight, in particular, it was okay because she had found something to keep her occupied. Or someone. He was sitting on one of the barstools, his elbows resting on the counter, and the stool was at an angle beneath him, so not all four legs were touching the ground. He was calm, cool, collected. Even as he turned to discuss another drink with the bartender, he kept his balance.

His hair was dark and curly, a little longer in the front than it was on the sides. Thick chains hung from his neck, and a smaller one was wrapped around his wrist. It didn’t look like he’d been checking out any of the girls on the floor, he’d been engrossed in a conversation with the messy-haired blonde next to him. At least, she thought his hair was blonde, most of it was covered in a hat turned backward.

They were talking so intently that she’d really only seen half of the curly haired ones face, but she wanted to see the rest. She spent about thirty minutes hoping someone on the dance floor would catch his eye so he’d be forced to look forward or even in her direction. It’s a surprise he never felt her stare. And she hadn’t meant to stare, but seeing the way his eyes trained on his friends face and how his eyebrows knitted in pure concentration was almost captivating. She couldn’t look away but also didn’t want to.

All of her attention was focused on this one guy, someone she’d never met or talked to. It was truly a moment when she let her guard down, so she hadn’t noticed the guy that slipped into the other side of the circular booth and scooted to right next to her. Not until his arm was resting around her shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin, immediately scooting away from him and tearing her eyes from the mysterious, beautiful boy.

“What’s got you so scared, darling? I wouldn’t hurt a fly.” The unwelcomed man says, his breath reeks of alcohol, and she’s pretty sure half of what he drank never made it to his mouth because his shirt is soaking wet, stuck to his skin. His accent seems very southern, so she gathers that he’s most likely not from this area.

He scoots closer to make up the distance she had made between them, and that’s when she notices it. His fingers have a small amount of white powdered residue on them, and they were just touching the rim of her glass. Had he slipped something into all of the drinks at the table while she was being stupid and staring at the other guy? She had no idea, but it definitely scared her, and she didn’t want to find out.

Her eyes immediately went to the crowd, but of course, none of her friends were visible from where she’d been sitting. It was like them actually, to disappear, but they hadn’t stranded her alone since about a month ago when one of them got hurt trying to move to another bar a couple blocks down. She was the only one sober enough to help, but they hadn’t realized she hadn’t followed when they left.

Now that the dirty, smelly man is close to her again, she feels bile rising in her throat. If he pushes her anymore, she’ll fall out of the booth. That might be just what she needs, but now his arm is around her waist and trying to pull her closer. She wants nothing more than to scream, yell, or cry, but her voice has left her at this moment.

“I heard the unisex bathroom is pretty spacious, what do you say to a quickie?” His breath is hot on her neck, and as soon as she thinks he’s going to kiss her, she jumps away, out of the booth. He’s so drunk that he falls from the lack of her to hold him up. She knows she only has about thirty seconds before he regains his composure and realizes what’s happened. She glances at the crowd, sure, maybe she could hide among bodies, but what if he wasn’t the only one? What if he had drugged all of their drinks and his friends were just waiting on her friends to return to their table?

Her next option was risky, but it was all she had at the moment.

Before she thought about it anymore, her feet walked her right up to the dark-haired stranger. She used her foot to push the floating legs of his stool down, meaning their bodies were in too close proximity for ordinary strangers.

“Please pretend you know me or something until that guy leaves my table.” Her words are a little bit rushed, his hands are now on her hips because he needed something to keep him from falling when she grounded his stool.

His eyes flick from her wide and slightly frazzled ones back to her table, the guy still hadn’t left but was staring them down intently. She was praying to any God she knew of to let him go with it and not push her away. He could tell she was scared, and there wasn’t any part of him that hesitated his next actions.

“I’m going to lift you, so you’re sitting on my lap because he doesn’t look like he’s going away any time soon.” His voice is low, and even though he leaned in to whisper in her ear, she has a little bit of fear that the other man will see right through them and know it’s an act.

He waits for her small nod before he easily lifts her to one of his knees, wrapping both arms around her waist to keep her in one place. She doesn’t dare look back at her table. Her wallet is still sitting there, as well as all of her friends’ things.

“I think he slipped something in the drinks at the table. I usually keep watch while my friends dance, but I had been distracted, and he snuck up on me.”

Her hands shake as she fiddles with them in her lap, and he notices. This girl is clearly afraid of the man, and he has to find a way to make this easier for her.

“Michael, tell the bartender that those drinks need to be picked up and then go get all of her friends' things.” His head is turned to the side as he talks to the guy he’d been in a conversation with before. Michael.

“Okay, my name is Calum. Put one hand here,” He gently takes one of her hands and lays it on his shoulder, but her palm is resting on his collarbone, “And then lean your head on my other shoulder. We’ve got to put on a show for him, love. Don’t worry about all of the wallets or about him. We’ve got this.”

The way he called her a silly pet name sent chills down her spine. Before she leaned her head against his chest, she paused to take a good look at him. His eyebrows were bushy but still kept neat. His lips were full, but her mind isn’t anywhere near thinking about kissing him at this moment. His eyes were a beautiful brown color, even in the terrible lighting of this place, she could imagine them shining like honey when the sun hits them.

He noticed the pause. Just like he’d noticed her staring earlier, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Michael had actually been giving him details about what she’d looked like or if she was with anyone since he didn’t want to look at her and potentially make things awkward. Now that she’s up close, he realizes that Michael is shit at explaining things because she’s way more beautiful than he’d let on. Calum shakes off the thought, now isn’t the time for that. She needs help, she needs to calm down, not to think about if she’d want to go home with him or not.

The girl took a deep breath as she finally leaned into him, and he felt her muscles relax just a little bit. Silently, Calum watched as Michael walked over to the table, and the man started chatting to him as well. Michael was clearly annoyed with him, but the man didn’t seem to notice that he was picking up various wallets and purses as they had a short conversation.

“I think I need to go home. I’m going to be sick if I think about him trying to hit on me anymore.” She says softly, her breath gently tickles his neck, and he clenches his jaw. If his head had been turned the other way, he wouldn’t have heard her.

“Just a few more minutes, doll. We’re going to have that guy thrown out of here.”

She’s surprised by the warmth and comfort she feels just from hearing his voice. It almost makes her scoff at herself, but she blames it on being scared for her life just a few minutes ago. He hadn’t said, “You’re going to be okay,” over and over again, but it felt like he had. For some crazy reason, she believed she would be if he stayed near.

“Tell your friend that he can give the purses and things to the bartender. If my friends see that I’m gone, they’ll know to ask behind the bar.”

Right after she says that a girl approaches Michael and the drunk. Michael has his hands full with things that don’t belong to him, and she’s obviously not very happy about it. She flicks her waist-length hair out of her face before she angrily points to all of the bags in his hand. He stutters for only a couple of seconds before he looks to Calum and the girl on his lap, who’s heart rate hasn’t decreased any since they’ve been sitting so close. Calum feels his heartbeat picking up as well. If she girl acts like she doesn’t know who he is, their cover could be blown. For a split second, he’s worried, but then he remembers that the guy is shitfaced when he tries to pick up the very drink that he drugged not too long ago.

The angry girls' eyes soften as soon as she spots Calum, and she immediately heads in their direction.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Y/N picking up her head almost knocks against Calum’s chin, but he quickly turns his head in anticipation of her movement. Her eyes are still wide and full of worry. Calum feels terrible for thinking she looks pretty anyway.

“Yeah, but I think I’m ready to go home. I know it’s just after midnight, and we usually stay longer, but you guys don’t have to leave yet. I’ll be okay on my own.” She says it a little bit slow like she doesn’t entirely believe that and Calum knows he doesn’t. There’s not a chance he’s letting her get home alone in her state.

“I could make sure you get there if you want. I was going to leave soon anyway.” The lie slips off his lips effortlessly, and Y/N immediately snaps her eyes to his.

“I’ll just go ask if any of the girls are ready, Y/N. I’m sure Sam is, she’s always ready to go home.” Her friend speaks up before she gets a chance to, and Calum is a bit aggravated.

“No, seriously. She asked me for help, and I want to make sure she gets home. They’re about to kick that guy out anyway,” He nods over to the booth, and now two bouncers have approached to escort him out. “Even if someone went with her, I have a better chance of keeping him away.”

Y/N’s fiery-eyed friend stares him down for a moment or two, and he’s never felt belittled by anyone who’s never said anything to him until now.

“If she feels comfortable, then I guess. But Y/N, you better call me when you get home.”

Y/N nods, and before Calum can blink, she’s off of his lap and adjusting her skirt while still standing between his legs.

“Walk me home?” She says, just as the guy is led passed the three of them with each arm being held by men almost twice his size. Calum smiles a little, knowing that he’d heard what she said. He’s almost too caught up in that to notice that she’s holding her hand out to his.

“Of course.” He flashes a smile at her, and she’s never thought that someone’s teeth could be pretty, until now.

Calum’s hand is warm when it grabs hers. Y/N is the one who makes the moves to intertwine their fingers, but he doesn’t say anything. Michael approaches just as they’re about to start walking. “Oh! Right, my wallet. Thank you, Michael.”

When she says Michaels name, Calum can’t help but wonder what it would sound like for her to say his. Finally, they head for the door, and neither of them has ever appreciated the crisp, winter air more than they did tonight. It felt like a breath of fresh air, and a lot of Y/N’s precious worries seemed to disappear.

“So do you want to call an Uber or Lyft?” Calum stops when they get to the corner of the building.

“Hm... which direction do you live?” Her fingers tap against her chin, gingerly.

“That way.” He points to the right, and she smiles.

“Me too. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk though, if you’re okay with that.” For a second he sees something that looks kind of like doubt flash through her eyes but then they brighten again like the sky after a storm.

“Sounds good to me.” He shrugs, he doesn’t know how she’s feeling now. When she was close enough for him to feel her heartbeat, he could gain a little bit about her nervousness. Now, he has to try and decide if their hands clasped together are clammy because she’s still a little bit weary or if it’s because he generally runs hot and maybe it’s making her hand sweat.

“Oh, we don’t have to hold hands anymore. I think the guy is good and gone.” Y/N starts to pull her hand away, but before she can separate their fingers, he holds tighter.

“Wouldn’t want your hands to get cold on a night like this, right?”

Her eyes follow from their joined hands, up his arms (that have tattoos peeking out from his 3/4 sleeved shirt), and then to his face where he wears a playful smirk.

“I guess that’d be a little bit uncomfortable, so... you’re right.” She smiles back, and her heart picks up again, but this time it’s because he’s sweet and has a certain charm to him that she loves.

The rest of the walk is filled with quick quips and harmless flirting. They both wish that her house was a little bit further away. Calum had a decision to make, he could let her go inside and never see her again, or he could try to make a move and see where it goes. He didn’t want to overstep the boundaries, as she had been almost assaulted just an hour earlier.

He’s so in his head that he doesn’t realize she stopped walking. He turns around, cheeks rosy with embarrassment, but she just laughs.

“Got something on your mind?”

This was a make it or break it moment for him. He felt like he needed to take the risk because she was wonderful. She was sweet and kind, and it felt like everything he’d ever hoped for. Which was strange, Calum didn’t typically do this. He never wanted to know more about girls he met at a bar, but tonight he did.

Calum closes the distance between them, softly placing his hands on her hips but not pulling her against him. Her eyes don’t widen with fear, and he takes it as a good sign.

“I might be crossing a line here, considering everything that happened to you tonight but I’d really like to kiss you.”

He’s looking straight into her eyes, and she feels like he can read everything she’s been thinking all night long. She’d wanted to go home with him before all of this happened. She’d hoped he’d make a move because she would never have the courage to do it. It almost makes her giggle, no one had ever asked to kiss her before, but she decides that it shows his character.

“I’d like that too.”

Less than ten seconds after the words slip out of her mouth, he dips his head, so they’re face to face. This time she’s the one that closes the gap, pressing their lips together in a soft, but sweet kiss. For both of them, it’s the first time they’ve ever felt the fireworks people talk about. The electricity of some sort. The fire.

They’re both a little breathless when they pull away. Still reeling.

“How about we go for a late breakfast in the morning? I live about twenty minutes from here, so I could just come back at whatever time you’d like.” Calum says quietly. She shakes her head, and his heart drops in defeat. How could they have a kiss like that and then not ever see each other again?

“Don’t be silly, you can just stay the night.” She smirks at him, and the playful atmosphere they’d been surrounded by on their walk home was back. She knows what she’s done. Y/N pats his chest a couple of times before leaving him at the foot of the stairs of the townhouse she lives in. His mouth is hung open a little bit, completely shocked.

“Come on, Calum, I’m on the third floor, and the elevator is broken. Catch up.” She giggles this time, pushing the door open and waiting for him to actually move. Despite feeling high just from hearing her laugh, he picks his feet up and meets her at the door.

He’s always heard guys at weddings say their bride is their bride because he knew from the moment he saw her that he wanted to marry her. He could’ve been overly dramatic, but as a hopeless romantic at heart, he hoped that was the case with Y/N.

I would love to hear your feedback! If you loved it, hated it, or have any improvements I could make, leave them here :)

#calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood fanfic #5sos fanfic #5sos #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer #kris10 writes

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j-morgan-fly · 4 years

Text

CW: Transphobia, or at least it felt like it to me.

Long post.

This week I started my 5 week training course to become a CNA.

In the building, there are three bathrooms. A men's restroom, a family restroom that is a single toilet room, and the women's restroom. From day one I implied that I use the men's restroom, I did this by asking for the passcode to the men's restroom because the doors are locked.

The first day, they gave me the wrong code. Not a huge issue, I had to go but not that bad and I mostly wanted to focus on the orientation so I held it until class was over .

2nd day of class I asked for the code again, it was wrong again, had to ask two other people, running around to find a male staff member that knew the code. The people I asked consisted of the female owner and the male administrator. Both who I explicitly said to that I needed the code to the 'mens' room. I was not questioned by either, they gave me the codes and got the right one from the male administrater who enrolled me. I used the bathroom and later I was even asked by another male student for the code, no one had issues with me using the men's room. Until the 3rd day.

Today, I used the men's restroom and after going in, doing my business(don't think this matters but the men and women rooms have multiple stalls and there was no one else with me in the bathroom) and left to go back to my class. I ran into my teacher coming to use the restroom herself, we were right by the bathrooms and she stopped me.

"You know you can use this restroom, the middle one(the family, unisex bathroom) the code is ***" she said to me.

I looked at her, rightfully confused at her not at first understanding why she was suggesting I use that restroom.

"I don't see why I would need to," I said back to her. "The men's restroom isn't out of order."

"Oh I know," she said. "But you can still use this one,"

My heart was pounding as I realized what she was saying to me between the lines.

"No, that's ok." I told her and still, she insisted, repeating the code for the door to me and saying I could use the family restroom.

"I just think you might be more comfortable, just in case someone has a problem," she said and by now my stomach was in knots, I was biting my tongue from being rude and telling her off I was because I was insulted, hurt and embarrassed. We were in a hall anyone could come by and overhear.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," I said, ending things and turning to go back to the classroom.

When she came back, before our class resumed from break she called me into the empty class next door.

"I didn't mean to offend you," She said to me. "It's just we had a staff member whose has issues with this sort of thing and brought it to the administration"

(Also, just to let you all know I only came out to two people in the class the first day, because one just up and asked if I was gay because I sounded flamboyant apparently. sharing that she herself was Bisexual and I also casually said I was Trans and my voice is still a bit high. I said nothing to my teacher or the staff about my gender identity and I don't think the two girls would just blurt something like that out to the whole class when I wasn't there. so she just assumed I was trans. I have had top surgery, I am on T but I have no facial hair and my voice is still pretty high so I get it. Some people just put it together)

"About me?" I asked, stunned because I had passed some female staff but I never got weird looks or anything and the other men in my class haven't' said anything.

"No, just in the past," my teacher explained.

I bite my tongue because that was what my mother raised me to do rather than be rude and this is my teacher and I need this class but in my head, before she called me in I was so close to going to administration myself about my teacher calling me out so ignorantly. She wasn't doing this for my comfort, she was doing this for other people. Not me. It was ignorant and rude and I was so upset my hands were shaking as I put on the rubber gloves required for class.

So I just say. "Ok, I understand. Thank you for the warning,"

She did not properly apologize, just made excuses for her ignorant and inappropriate behavior. I also made no promises that I would not use the men's room again in the future because I know I will but I also couldn’t bring myself to use the bathroom for the rest of the class day.

Never have I had something like this happen to me in the seven years since I came out until now. I just imagine what so many of you go through every day, living in places that something like this is a daily struggle and constant fight for, what our transgender sisters face over things like using the facility that most comfortably matches our identities and it sickening and horrible. Stay strong everyone.

#i am ftm trans by the way #transphobia #trans women #trans man #bathroom #how not to handle the situation #prejudice #discriminatory #cnalife #this was bullshit

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hotforharrison · 5 years

Text

Meet & Greet ch 12

Chapter 11 <-- Series Masterlist --> Chapter 13

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader

Summary: You missed out on a Tom Holland meet and greet, but a stranger, who you are pretty sure is a Tom Holland lookalike, rescues you from your pity party for one.

Word Count: 1,871

Warnings: The usual smut and language

A/N: Hazard a guess at what you think is contained in this chapter. I’ll give you a hint. It starts with ‘p’ and ends with ‘orn.’

Most of the day had passed by uneventfully and fully clothed. Even though Tom insisted you didn’t have to, you’d helped him clean up around his apartment and cooked lunch together. You found that you very much liked being domestic with him.

You were now lounging on the couch on your phone, secretly making sure no one posted any pictures of you at the sex shop the previous day. It had been eating at the back of your mind for hours, but you wanted to wait until you were alone to check. After a thorough search, you couldn’t find any and sighed in relief. The meet and greet was the most recent thing people were talking about.

“There’s something I want to try,” Tom said from behind you. “Don’t feel obligated, though.”

“Oh?” you asked, very interested.

“I want to take you out to dinner,” he responded.

You were confused. That wasn’t really ‘trying’ anything. People went out to dinner together all the time.

He walked in front of you and held up the flattened c-shaped vibrator.

You were still a little confused about how the two were related.

“It has a remote control,” he explained.

Your eyes widened in realization. “You want public sex?”

“Discreet public sex,” he corrected.

“But what if someone notices?” The thought mortified you.

“No one will pay us any mind,” he responded confidently, sitting down on the couch next to you. “There’s a hole in the wall Thai place I go to sometimes. It’s never busy. We’ll sit in the back corner booth.”

You quietly considered it, the insistent spark of arousal it stirred between your legs versus the thought of being found out and arrested. Did they arrest people for that? You weren’t sure and didn’t really want to find out.

“Okay,” you eventually agreed.

He grinned brightly at you and started to open the package.

“Have you done this before?” you asked.

“Not this exactly, but I did have sex in a park in the middle of the night once,” he replied, pulling the vibrator out of the blister pack.

You watched as he inserted the batteries into both the remote and the vibrator itself. When he pressed a button on the remote, the vibrator quietly buzzed to life. He experimented with the settings for a while, eventually handing it to you.

It wasn’t intimidating in size, significantly smaller than Tom’s cock, probably because it was intended to be used during sex. You weren’t sure how something else in addition to Tom would fit inside you when Tom barely did, but uncertainty hadn’t stopped you from trying anything so far. You’d add it to The List.

You ran your fingers over the vibrator. The material was soft and smooth, not quite as silky as the silicone, but it felt like it would still be comfortable for insertion. You guessed you’d find out soon enough. You were momentarily startled when Tom used the remote to turn it on, cycling slowly through the settings while you held it.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think you’re a bad influence,” you replied.

He chuckled and looked pleased with himself.

You put the vibrator down next to you on the couch.

He turned to you and kissed you, warm and wet and thorough. His hand pushed your skirt up, and he brushed his fingers over your already damp panties.

He pulled his mouth back slightly. “So wet for me already,” he said against your lips.

“So wet for you always,” you corrected. “You seem to have no idea how sexy you are.”

He huffed a laugh, then kneeled in front of you, licking his lips as he slid your panties slowly down your legs. You watched him grab the vibrator from beside you and use his hands to spread your legs apart.

The insertable part of the vibrator slipped inside easily through your wetness, comfortable but still noticeable, and he nestled the top part against your clit. You waited for him to test it, but he never did. He simply pulled your panties back on over the vibrator and smoothed your skirt down over your legs again.

He helped you to your feet. “How is it?”

“I think I’ll have to get used to it.” You found it slightly awkward to walk with the vibrator inside you. After walking around his living room for a bit, you felt that no one would question it.

“Ready to head out?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered.

It was already dusk, and you were glad that you had the cover of near darkness to help hide the secret nestled between your legs.

The drive to the restaurant was short. You didn’t really feel like you’d had enough time to prepare yourself, but maybe that feeling would have never come.

Tom suggested the pad thai, and you both ordered that at the front of the restaurant. You spent the entire time wondering when Tom was going to activate the vibrator.

“They’ll bring it to the table,” he said as he led you to the back corner booth. It was out of the way and as discreet as it could be.

You sat down gingerly, feeling the vibrator pushing deeper into you. Long moments passed, and you stared at him expectantly. Maybe the remote wasn’t working?

That theory was proven wrong as the vibrator suddenly buzzed to life inside you, causing you to buck your hips and bump into the table. You quickly looked around, but no one had noticed.

Tom snickered.

He left it on the lowest setting, watching you, rapt, as you tried not to obviously squirm. You were about three-quarters of the way to an orgasm and utterly and completely sexually frustrated. Tom Holland was an asshole.

Long minutes passed, but you didn’t adjust to the vibrations, so full of want that you were aching. You wondered if you could convince Tom to have a quickie in the bathroom.

The waitress approached the table with your plates, interrupting your thoughts. As she was placing your dinner in front of you on the table, Tom commented, “doesn’t this look delicious, darling?” He simultaneously increased the intensity setting on the vibrator by a couple notches.

The combination of your favorite pet name and the stronger vibrations sent you soaring over the edge into what would have been the best orgasm of your life, if you didn’t have to desperately try to hide it. You bit your lip so hard you tasted copper, inhaled sharply and tried your best to conceal the fact that you were cumming harder than you ever had before from the waitress, unable to help squirming against the padded bench.

“Are you unwell?” she asked, obviously concerned.

“I’m fine,” you choked out as best you could. “Just had a muscle spasm.”

She looked at you funny, then walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you groaned. “I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he responded, entirely too pleased with himself.

“Two can play at this game,” you muttered to yourself. You glanced around again and slipped your foot out of your shoe to trail up Tom’s leg, until you reached his groin. You could feel his erection straining against his pants with your toes. You rubbed the ball of your foot against it for a while, watching him try to hide his pleasure.

Your mind wandered back to the thought of convincing him to have sex with you in the bathroom. If how hard he was in his pants was any indication, it probably wouldn’t take much convincing.

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” you said, choosing your words carefully and hoping he caught on to your offer. It was more difficult to walk with the stronger vibrations, but you managed it. The single bathroom was unisex.

You waited eagerly by the door until you heard a quiet tapping against it. You opened the door, and Tom quickly entered. You shut the door behind him and locked it.

His lips were immediately on yours, tongue in your mouth, hands roaming all over your body. It was the most desperate kiss you’d shared. That, combined with the vibrator, left you incredibly close to a second orgasm.

“We don’t have much time,” he breathed against your mouth, reaching between you to undo his pants and get his cock out.

“How are we going to?” you trailed off.

He answered the question for you when he leaned you over the sink and bunched your skirt up around your waist. He fumbled as he moved your panties to the side and pushed in, vibrator still inside you and buzzing away.

Instead of being uncomfortable, the stretch was delicious. You pressed back against him, immediately wanting, no needing, more.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. You could see his eyes almost roll back up into his head through the mirror.

“Please, Tom,” you begged quietly, wiggling your ass against him, hoping to spur him into action.

It worked. You watched his face as he started to fuck into you, hard and fast. Seeing the pleasure written there was the last bit you needed to bring you to another intense orgasm. While your climax coursed through your body, bright and hot, your eyes screwed shut. You buried your face in your arm to muffle your moans.

There was a cut off groan behind you, then Tom cursed softly, and stilled. He pulled out and used the remote to turn of the vibrator.

All you could hear after that was the labored breathing you shared.

You used the sink to push yourself upright again and removed the vibrator from inside you, rinsing it off and dropping it in your purse. It was most definitely an effort in vain, but you quickly tried to make it look less like you’d just had sex in a public bathroom. You felt his cum dripping down your thighs, but there were no paper towels, and the toilet paper was thin enough that it would do no good to clean up the mess.

You exited the bathroom first and returned to the booth, cringing at the sticky, wet feeling as you sat down. Your food was untouched, but you weren’t particularly hungry.

Tom joined you soon after, sitting across from you quietly, also not eating.

“Do you want to-” you asked, gesturing at the door behind you.

“Yes,” he replied immediately.

You quickly exited the restaurant with him, walking out the door into the night, and got in his car.

“I can’t believe we just did that!” he exclaimed.

“I know!” you agreed.

“I haven’t cum that hard in ages,” he commented.

“I don’t think I’ve cum that hard ever,” you admitted.

“You should have seen your face when the waitress was bringing our food. I don’t think it’s possible for anything else to be so hilarious and such a turn on at the same time,” he said.

You felt your face flush at the memory. “I still hate you for that.”

“You don’t,” he said with certainty.

“I don’t,” you agreed. “I just don’t think I can ever go back there again.”

“That’s too bad. They have the best pad thai.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you pointed out.

Tag list: @drown-me-before-dema-does @tom-hollands-blog @tylers-ankles-beebos-forehead @moorehollandplz @delicatepeterparker @thollandss @musicalburrage @captainbuckyy @adayasgeorgia

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland scenarios #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland story #tom holland writing #tom holland reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland you

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how-to-voleebol · 5 years

Note

16 smut with bokuto and oikawa please??

I stuck with fem pronouns for this - force of habit. Sorry!

Prompt 16 : “The beach isn’t somewhere where I can fuck you properly.”

Bokuto Koutarou :

“(Name)!”

You groaned, throwing your pencil down and covering your face with your hands.

Your boyfriend had been bothering you for the past hour while you were trying to study for the upcoming Science exam - and you hated science. And Koutarou knew that you hated science good and well, but he just had to bother you while you were studying your ass off.

“What is it now, Kou? I’m studying here! Do you want me to fail?!”

“I’m horny!”

You froze, feeling your cheeks burn.

That was rather straightforward. Then again, Koutarou was always straightforward with what he wanted.

“W-What do you mean, you’re horny? Go figure out your problem yourself!”

“But I don’t wanna!” Koutarou whined, throwing his arms around you. You rolled your eyes, and couldn’t help but relax a bit in his tense arms. “I need you to help me,” he pouted.

“What the heck do you want me to help for? I’m not going to do anything until I finish studying here,” you grumble, picking up your pencil again. You felt him huff against your ear.

“That isn’t fair, (Name)!”

“Koutarou, please,” you groaned, yet again throwing your pencil down in annoyance. “Just go deal with your problem and then head to the beach or something!”

“The beach isn’t somewhere where I can fuck you properly,” Koutarou growled into your ear so suddenly that you felt shivers tingle down your spine. “Oh, that got you, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gritted your teeth. You hated when he used that tone of voice on you - it always got you, no matter what he did.

You felt a nibble against your ear as his rough hands quickly trailed down from your shoulder to your crotch. “Mhm,” he hummed, rubbing the inside of your thigh. You took in a sharp breath, hands shaking ever so slightly.

“That turned you on, didn’t it?” you could feel Koutarou’s smirk against your ear. And your soft gasp that escaped your lips when he slid his hand into your sweatpants, rubbing on you at a teasing pace.

“Kou,” you whispered, panting ever so lightly.

“Mm? What is it, baby?” a whimper left your throat as Koutarou pulled your underwear to the side - you didn’t really wear anything fancy today, especially when you weren’t expecting to fuck.

“I know you’re getting horny,” he said casually, gently rubbing your clit. You were really trembling now - gripping the edge of the chair tightly.

“See? You’re wet,” Koutarou purred, his fingers geny poking your entrance as his thumb stayed at your clit. True to his words, you were wet.

“Kou, please,” at this point, you didn’t even know what you were pleasing for - for him to keep going or for him to stop and leave you horny for the rest of the afternoon. Yeah, you didn’t really want the latter.

Well, it seems that Koutarou took your plead as a plead to keep going, so he did. He easily slid his middle and ring finger inside knuckle deep. It instantly emitted a moan from you, and his smirk grew wider.

“Ehh, so you do want it,” he chuckled lowly, curling his fingers.

You couldn’t help it anymore. God, he was so stupid and dumb but so smart enough to make you horny too.

“Yes, yes, I do,” you groaned, unable to help rolling your hips against his fingers. “Please..”

“Please? That’s new,” Koutarou teased, kissing your neck as his fingers began curling back and forth, his hand doing the same. Just as you liked it.

The thing about Koutarou is that he isn’t really big on teasing. He liked giving you pleasure with a little bit of foreplay, and this, to him, was foreplay, but he knew that you didn’t consider cumming from his fingers foreplay.

“Faster,” you whispered, feeling your eyes glaze over a bit. You were staring blankly at the wall, paper and pencil completely forgotten.

And faster he went. Koutarou’s fingers were now completely inside you, not knuckle deep anymore. He was silently nipping at the crevices of your neck, arm gently slapping against your hip as he finger fucked you.

The moans he was hearing was music to his ears, and he knew that you were close. He bit down, his pace speeding up even more.

And then, you tightened around his fingers. The calls of his names were filled with pleasure as he tightened his grip on your waist with his other arm to keep you from falling off of the chair as you trembled.

Hs thumb was gently rubbing your clit by the time you calmed down from the surge of pleasure. He heard a soft curse from you.

“Wanna head to the beach?” he joked, pulling his fingers out.

“Mm...let’s stay home and I’ll help with your problem.”

“Sounds good to me!”

Oikawa Tooru

When Tooru told you that he had wanted to go to the beach because it was so hot, you completely agreed.

But he wanted to go to the beach because the weather was hot, and he was oblivious as to what he was getting himself into when he saw that you were hotter.

For some reason, all of your friends had taken all of your swimsuits, which left you with that bikini that your best friend bought for you for your birthday present two years ago.

And it still. Fits.

You don’t know how the hell it still fits, but since you had nothing else to wear and you didn’t want your clothes to be salty, you forced yourself to wear the stupid thing.

The bikini itself was blue. It had thin straps and the straps were connected with rings. Where your best friend got this, you’ll never know.

Tooru, however, was grumpy.

Unexpectedly, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were also at the beach. They had invited Iwaizumi, but he had to help around the house today, since his aunt was moving in.

And Matsukawa brought his puppy, Burrito*. A rather silly name, yes, but Burrito was cute, so that was that.

And seeing you wearing that bikini while playing around with Burrito in the water - for God’s sake - he couldn’t help but get a hard on.

Tooru felt a little bit guilty. He knew that he was the one who suggested going to the beach, but he expected for you guys to do what the people in the movies do - play in the water, get some ice cream and then have a romantic walk during the sunset.

But now, all he wanted to do was go home and fuck.

The way your curves fit perfectly, the way the excess string bounced along with your tits whenever you ran or jumped, and you thighs - your thighs for fuck’s sake - Tooru had to take a break because he was getting overwhelmed.

“Someone’s angry,” Hanamaki shot Tooru a grin as he plopped down next to him.

“Shut up,” Tooru whined, throwing some sand on him, which he casually brushed off.

“Why’ve you got a towel on? You haven’t been in the water for half an hour,” Hanamaki rose a brow. Tooru didn’t answer him, trying to keep his hungry gaze off of you laughing with Matsukawa.

Hanamaki followed his scattered gaze, only for his own eyes to land on you. He blinked before a smug grin grew on his lips. When Tooru was off guard, he gripped the corner of the towel before throwing it away.

“M-Makki!”

“Aha!” Hanamaki, proud of his accomplishment, stared right down at the tent in Tooru’s swimming shorts. “No wonder!”

Tooru groaned loudly as he pulled the towel back and covered his crotch area. “Makki! Why the hell did you do that?!”

“I knew it,” Hanamaki smirked. “You’ve got a boner because of how hot (Name) looks in that,”

“Shhh!” Tooru hissed, looking around as his cheeks flushed. “Okay, I get it! But you don’t have to scream it out to the world!”

“But I didn’t scream it out,” Hanamaki hummed. “Unless you want me to,”

“Shut up already!” another fistful of sand made its way to Hanamaki’s lap.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, dusting the sand off. “But seriously, now?”

“She’s hot, okay?” Tooru grumbled.

Ten minutes later, you found yourself sitting down next to Tooru as Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Burrito went off to buy some ice cream.

“You seemed to have to lots of fun,” Tooru huffed.

“Of course. You should’ve joined us, babe - Burrito wouldn’t stop splashing water on Mattsun!”

Tooru couldn’t take it anymore. As cute as the stupid dog was, he wanted attention, and he wanted all of it. So, without any explanation, he tied the towel around his waist and stood up, dragging you with him. “T-Tooru?”

He pulled you all the way to the changing rooms, not answering any of your surprised questions. He made sure that no-one was looking when he tugged you into the unisex bathroom.

“Tooru, what the hell?” you huffed when he locked the door.

Again, no answer. However, when he loosened the towel and let it drop from his waist, you figured out everything.

“...oh.”

“Oh,” Tooru mocked you, pulling you closer. “(Name)! This is all your fault! I couldn’t go into the water and play with Burrito because of this!”

“It isn’t my fault,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

Tooru saw your chest lift up a little bit, and there was a visible twitch in his shorts.

He pulled over a white, plastic chair and sat down (even if it was disgusting, he wanted to get this over and done with so you could finally go home). He laid the towel onto the sandy tiles before pushing you down.

“Gimme a tit job."

Your cheeks exploded into red. “W-What?! Now?!”

“Yes now,” Tooru groaned, untying his shorts and pushing them to his ankles. “Please? Just for once? We won’t go the full way,”

You huffed, reaching behind your back. “And why not?”

“Because the beach isn’t somewhere where I can fuck you properly,” Tooru whined, but his mouth shut when he saw you reveal your twins.

“Fuck, they’re so hot,” Tooru was so ready to cum, but it would be really embarrassing if he came the moment you wrapped them around his dick.

You rolled your eyes, making sure that your top didn’t touch the tiles when you put them onto the towel.

You shuffled closer, and he spread his legs apart.

You bit your lip as you easily slid him between your smooth breasts. Though they weren’t big, they weren’t small either, and Tooru loved them.

A groan escaped his mouth when you flicked the tip with your tongue, it poked through.

“God, I love your tits,” Tooru whispered, gripping the chair. You rolled your eyes as you slowly moved them up and down.

“I can tell,” you muttered, your lips wrapping around the head of his already leaking cock. A moan echoed through the bathroom.

You bounced your breasts faster, already knowing that he was going to cum. Your tongue worked magic, and slowly, your gaze trailed up.

As your eyes lifted, your pace went even faster. Tooru pushed your tits together further himself.

“Fuck,” he groaned, bucking his hips. “I’m gonna cum already,”

You refrained from rolling your eyes, speeding up even more.

The moment you made eye contact with him, Tooru released. He couldn’t help it - you looked so fucking hot.

A squeak escaped as you pulled away, letting his sticky cum stray to the tits that Tooru loved so much.

“God,” he panted after calming down.

“Sorry...let’s...let’s go home, yeah? I can give you a proper apology...”

* - I couldn’t think of any names and there was a burrito on the table so I thought...why not?

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