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tommyhollandaisesauce · 4 years

Text

Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k idk how

Posted: 11/19/2020

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.

Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.

A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!

When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.

Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.

It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.

Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.

So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.

Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.

“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.

“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.

You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.

“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.

“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”

Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”

You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.

The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.

The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.

You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?

“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”

“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.

A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.

Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.

“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.

“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.

“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“

“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”

He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.

The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.

The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.

However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.

When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.

You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.

“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.

“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”

“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”

“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”

At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.

Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.

“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.

Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.

Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.

Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.

He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.

“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.

“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”

“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.

Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.

Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.

He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?

“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.

“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.

“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?

“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”

Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.

“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.

“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”

The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.

Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.

You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.

You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.

“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.

“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.

After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.

He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.

“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.

You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.

“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.

“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.

"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.

"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."

"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."

"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.

“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.

“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”

Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.

Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"

Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?

“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.

“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.

You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”

“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”

A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something!

Tags: @hollandprkr @itstaskeen

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #tommyhollandaisesauce

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eddieeatsass · 5 years

Note

Bakery + 25 + stanlon?

Bakery AU + Accidental Sexual Tension from this prompt list(CW: very mild mention of alcohol)

When Mike had suggested they open a bakery together, Stanley had seen no drawbacks to the idea. They’d been best friends for nearly a decade, had gone to culinary school together and roomed in the college dorms with one another; Running a shop together seemed like a logical next step.

What Stan hadn’t taken into consideration, however, was that working in close quarters late into the night and early each morning would leave room for suppressed feelings to resurface.

Stan had had a crush on his best friend for years. It had always been there, simmering in the back of his mind. Who wouldn’t have a crush on Mike? Though, he’d decided early on that nothing would happen between them, not wanting to jeopardize their friendship.

It had been easier to ignore his feelings when they were in college. There’d been no shortage of attractive people to distract himself with, and his studies took up most of his brain power anyway.

But those simmering feelings always seem to find a way to show themselves, and these particular ones came to a head a month into their new lives as business partners.

They’d found a little shop to rent just off the edge of one of the busiest streets in the city. They’d renovated it pretty quickly thanks to their friend Ben who was a licensed architect, and his wife Beverly, an interior designer. Together, and with the help of a small team, their shop had been ready within two weeks.

The first couple weeks after the opening were too hectic to even get a moment to breathe. Mike and Stan were often up all hours of the night baking things for the next day. But as the buzz of the new bakery settled down, so did the flood of customers, and therefore so did Mike and Stan.

It was a Saturday evening in mid July as Stan was closing up shop that he heard the telltale sound of a cork popping in the other room. He wandered into the back to see Mike standing in the middle of their kitchen, champagne in one hand and champagne flutes in the other, a grin plastered to his face.

“HAPPY ONE MONTH OF BUSINESS!” Mike cheered, grabbing Stan and pulling him into a sloppy hug, the champagne bottle and glasses clanking behind Stan’s back.

Stan relaxed into Mike’s hold, delighting in the momentary warmth and sweet cinnamon smell that Mike always emanated.

“You too, Mikey.” Stan murmured happily.

The hug ended too soon and Stan had to school his features not to show his disappointment. He watched as Mike poured them each a little champagne and then walked over to one of their fridges.

A tray Stan didn’t recognize was pulled out, dollops of chocolate scattered across the surface.

“What’s that?” Stan asked, walking towards the counter where Mike placed the mysterious treats.

“I wanted to make us something special to celebrate, so I tried a new recipe. They’re chocolate caramel crème brûlée truffles.”

Stan could feel himself already salivating, always eager to eat anything Mike made. If Stan was a master at baking, Mike was a God.

Mike picked up one of the truffles and brought it to Stan’s lips, unaware of the intimacy of his action. Stan’s face flushed as he took a bite, his lips grazing Mike’s fingers in the process. As Stan chewed, Mike popped the other half of the truffle into his mouth, making a sinfully loud groan in appreciation.

“Okay, I did good.” Mike boasted.

“You always do good.” Stan responded, catching Mike’s eye and trying to convey sincerity. Mike’s eyes sparkled as he returned the smile Stan was holding, and the sight of warm brown skin curling around pearly whites made Stan’s breath catch.

“I know what these need.” Stan tore his eyes away and walked over to the fridge, rummaging around before he pulled out a batch of left over whip cream from earlier.

Mike chuckled as Stan carried the bowl back over.

“Why am I not surprised. You put whip cream on everything. If I offered you a hot dog right now, you’d use whip cream instead of condiments.”

“Please, I have standards, Mike.” Stan defended before rolling one of the chocolate truffles around in the bowl until it was coated in enough whip cream to drown a small child.

Stan popped it into his mouth with glee, chewing happily and letting his eyes slide shut as he indulged in the blend of flavors.

Mike watched Stan, taking a small sip of his champagne and letting his thoughts wander. Over the past year Mike had taken quite the interest in Stan. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed him before; he’d always thought that Stan was attractive, he’d just been too preoccupied with other things (and other people) to seriously consider his friend as a romantic option.

Since they’d graduated and moved in together, however, Mike had found himself entertaining the idea more and more. Opening the bakery together had been the cherry on-top; If this was what their life could look like together, why not take a leap of faith.

As Stan reached for another truffle, the likes of which had already began melting from the heat of their recently used ovens, Mike noticed a smidgen of whip cream on Stan’s cheek. Without thinking it over, he reached out, thumbing at the spot and bringing the finger to Stan’s lips to suck clean.

Stan froze, his face melting into a crimson palette. Mike realized too late the tension his move had created, the energy already palpating between them. Mike was quick to pull his hand back, an apology blooming on his tongue until he felt Stan’s grip hold him still.

Stan kept his eyes locked with Mike’s as he leaned forward, closing the space between his mouth and Mike’s receding hand. He took Mike’s thumb into his mouth, plush pink lips molding around the digit, soft tongue coming to wrap around the tip. It all happened within seconds, but to Mike it felt like it stretched on for a lifetime.

Was he imagining the sensuality of Stan’s movements, or was Stan really trying to put on a show? Could the exhaustion of the day’s work be playing with his mind?

Mike had always considered himself to be quite level-headed, but at that moment his head had flown up into the clouds.

And if anyone asked, that’s what he’d blame his next actions on.

Mike reached a hand around Stan’s back, swiftly pulling him up against his chest. He pulled his thumb out of Stan’s mouth, dragging it down his bottom lip and following the movement with his gaze. When he looked back up into Stan’s eyes, he saw hesitant fire illuminating amber, the flames of which were just beginning to lick at Mike’s reserve.

They stood like that for a few beats, each waiting to see who would move first, letting the tension build and become insufferable.

They ended up moving at the same time, their mouths clashing together. They were quick to get messy, desperate, open mouthed kisses with battling tongues. Both of their minds were swimming through molasses, trying to piece things together but getting lost in the feeling of one another.

From where their bodies were pressed together, Mike could feel Stan’s growing arousal. He wasted no time in dropping to his knees and beginning to unbutton Stan’s pants.

“Woah, Mike you- I- fuck.” Stan stuttered through his whiplash, the stakes rising so fast he had trouble keeping up. A minute ago they hadn’t even been kissing, and now Mike was staring up at him through those chestnut irises.

“Is this okay?” Mike asked, the pause in movement giving room for his nerves to sprout.

Stan nodded furiously, tripping over his own words as he blurted out a yes.

Mike laughed warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners as he reset his sight on the task at hand. With steady fingers he pulled Stan’s pants down along with his underwear, letting them sit around his hips just under his balls.

“Wow…” Mike murmured absentmindedly, appraising Stan’s half-hard cock.

Stan blushed as Mike stared, fidgeting under his gaze.

Mike suddenly grinned wickedly, reaching forward with one hand and beginning to pump Stan’s length to full hardness, his other hand reaching up to the counter and grabbing one of the truffles.

Stan watched in confusion as Mike brought it to his cock, rubbing the melting chocolate along his shaft. It was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant. He watched as the sticky sweet substance coated his cock, making it look like a chocolate drizzled treat.

Then, with concentrated determination, Mike brought his lips to Stan’s tip. He began teasing his slit, collecting the salty pre-cum on his tongue before sinking down the length of Stan’s cock, gathering the light coating of chocolate on his way.

When he pulled off, Stan’s cock was clean, Mike’s tongue having been as thorough as possible. Mike looked back up at him through lidded eyes.

“Salted chocolate has always been one of my favorites.” He joked, winking.

Stan let an incredulous laugh bubble up, the joke was just ludicrous enough to be funny, but it was also incredibly hot to think of himself as providing the salty tang to Mike’s sweetness.

It didn’t take long after that for Stan to cum down Mike’s throat, a lusty groan filling their kitchen. As Mike popped off, Stan’s knees started to buckle, sending him tumbling down on top of Mike.

Mike caught him with a surprised chuckle.

“You okay?” Mike tease, petting Stan’s hair back from his face before re-dressing him, tucking him back inside his pants.

“Sorry, that was just… a lot.” Stan admitted, face flushed fluorescent pink.

“Yeah, agreed… but good a lot, right?” Mike clarified, slight insecurity trickling into his tone.

Stan’s heart bloomed. He leaned forward, capturing Mike’s lips in a much lighter, softer kiss than their exchanges before.

“Good. Definitely good.”

#stanlon #mike hanlon #stan uris #stanley uris #stanlon fluff #stanlon lemon #stanlon smut #stanlon prompt #stanlon drabble #stanlon fanfic #stanlon fanfiction #my posts #my writing #tinyarmedtrex #ask #lemon

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hotdadlicense · 5 years

Photo

ahh for my dearest zhenya @fapfapfashion lover! heres that bfu post i said id make for you like monnnnnths ago i PROMISE i never forgot! just :(:( life. but anyway this was FUN i love youuuu! disclaimer: im not rly in the fandom this is all stuff i see through like just some friends reblogging stuff every now and again and whenever i go to the tag to find stuff sometimes but ANWAY I HOPE its semi coherent <3<3<3 love YOU.

OKAY I FEEL LIKE i said YEH ILL MAKE YOU A MASTERPOST FUCK YEAH but now im like hmmm making a buzzfeed unsolved masterpost is.......not that much cos its like? all there on their youtube channels like its not like music or stuff where theres yknow albums! singles! unreleased songs! special live performances! music videos! documentaries! band info! like its all over on buzzfeed multiplayer youtube and buzzfeed unsolved network youtube but whatever i can ramble about dumb shit and link some stuff so ayeee.

heres the links to the actual videos:

SUPERNATURAL

+ season one // two // three // four // five

+ supernatural: postmortem

TRUE CRIME

season one // two // three // four

+ true crime: postmortem

all eps in order (including postmortem)

personal favs

a vid that bab @chantillystars linked me and i watch it every time im feelin not fresh so i can smile

someone elses better done video round up master post! op ur incredible

now under the cut cos i realy did ramble :(

okay so THE HOSTS!

RYAN BERGARA (insta//twitter)

the fucking creator and inventer of bfu its his baby and im so proud of him and how far its come <3

when the season finale of the latest supernatural premiered it trended at number 1 over the fucking new lion king trailer and he got emo on twitter and insta about it and i cried a lil bit

fucking loves sports basketball or whatever themeparks popcorn and paddington bear

not scared enough of ghosts to not sleep in a haunted house but is scared enough that he absolutely will scream the whole entire time that he is in said haunted house

first ghost encounter was on the queen mary when he was a teenager. the ghost knocked his toothpaste of the shelf and he freaked. and now he has shat his pants at every bump in the night since. icon!

works his ass for to produce mass amounts of content for us like its fucking insane? all up there are like 9 seasons of bfu plus post-mortems and its only been going since 2014?? plus everything else hes got happening??

rly sweet and funny but like in a frat boi kinda way but like. a frat boi you could trust?

SHANE MADEJ (insta//twitter)

wasnt actually the original cohost!

(BRENT was the orignal host but had to beg out a couple episodes in cos he was juggling too many commitments so which fair!)

ryan and shane were desk partners and longtime buzzfeed pals that ? if i remember correctly? interned together back when they first started?

ryan turned to shane one day and was like ‘yo, wanna cohost this show with me?’ and shane was like 'sure.’ and honestly trying to picture it now without shane?? okay ryan and shane just bounce off each other so well theyre like a dream team. god bless them being desk buddies and work pals.

shanes a freak

does not believe in ghosts spirits orbs and all things that go bump in the night like he seems to genuinely want to but like. science and his big ass brain wont let him.

very smart! can rly work a patterned floral shirt! or plaid! kinda gives a dad vibe in glasses but then he talks and its like okay please never supervise a child!

v into history! so much so that he has his own lil show on buzzfeed aka:

RUINING HISTORY

stars him along with ryan and sara (his beautiful and smart and talented gf who also works at buzzfeed <3) with some other ever changing cohosts

hes also responsible for The Hot Dog Saga aka THE HOTDAGA and i know there are people that adore it but! in their own words! id rather walk into the sea.

ryan, too, hates the hotdaga and i feel like this was? about the hotdaga after shane sung something fuck if i remmebr

RYAN + SHANE

these gifs are from the ?second ep? i saw of them honestly it rly sums up the ryan/shane dynamic i guess

but like. the way ryan looks and laughs whenever shane says something mildly funny? hearteyes mutherfucker

above when i said shanes a freak? yeah.

ryan letting shane live as long as he has? true friendship

whenever theyre at the lil desk in their lil basement talking cases shane just talks shit and ryan just lets him and i fucking love them

the LAST FRAME

oh one time they lucked out with a hotel that had a jacuzzi tub <3

yknow what? this was actually kinda sweet. like yeh bitch

shane madej: nations greatest tragedy.

i can hear this in my head just looking at these gifs and it makes me laugh everytime and thats BAD cos a child fucking died

shanes a freak pt.2

OH SHIT one time in postmortem they joked that brent was coming back and shane was leaving and fuck? they had to actually address that it was a joke fUCK

its not all shittalking and screaming there really is some fond and happy shit too

bfu most recognisable and iconic line.

shanes hottest pick up lines when hes on site

the comments on the video for this ep about this part are fucking hilarious please read when you watch that ep

okay its common knowledge that shanes a demon which ill tlak about in a sec but THIS SCENE RIGHT HERE? ryans the fucking demon. like the way hes just standing there, hands clasped behind his back, giving shane (whos acting like a CHILD) that Look? demon bout to kill the dumbass chillin at a haunted house on halloween. come to collet a soul or 10. magical!

OKAY SO SHANE TALKS SOME BIG GAME IN THE EPS but HIS love for ryan will always melt my heart like HE LOVES and cares about ryan so much and supports buzzfeed unsolved so much and whenever things get dumb on social media shanes ready to call it out and make a post or just like. praise ryan (like he rightfully deserves) and yeah im emo about it anyway hes shane being cute part one and heres shane REALLY FUCKING going all out (!!!!!!!!!!.meme)i LOVE him also being cute part two

‘id walk into the sea.’

shanes a freak pt.3

ryan: “Are ghosts real?” shane: *this dumb face*

NERDS

i laughed for like 10 minutes the first time i watched this part thankyou shane

THEM LAUGHING TILL THEY CRIED ABOUT SOMEONE THAT DIED PLAYING THE PIANO

a real insight to shanes mind

ryan really puts up with this

shane got a bowlcut once just for funsies like okay youre no joba but good job i guess

TROPES/ICONIC MEMES/WAHTEVER:

shanes a demon

+ free real estate.meme

+ the office.meme

+ he aint right

+ JALDSHFK FUCK

+ ryan acknowledging that shane is a demon thankyou

+ like the good thing about having a guest fill in on the few times shanes been away has been ryan always being like okay so the demons not here so lets just acknowledge That

goatsman bridge

+ the video that started all this aka the one you reblogged hehhehe

+ what a fucking JOKE

+ an absolute JOKE

+ bridge owner fuck OFF

+ ksdjhfgjhsdkj.meme

sallie house

+ shane was insufferable this episode i fell in love for real how did ryan LIVE

+ like imagine trying to feel your heart beating while fucking shanes over there doing That

+ rock n roll buckaroo

+ swell has become apart of my daily vocal i hate

bobby mack

+ ‘hey there demons. its me, ya boi.’

+ ‘and frankly i dont believe in you, so i feel like im writing a letter to santa claus right now.’

+ tweet.meme

+ overall a great ep

+ can shane calm the fuck down okay i need ryan to make it out of this SAFELY and ALIVE

father thomas

+ ryans FACE also shane being that annoying sibling to ur parents

+ father thomas really went into this thinking he could help these boys to be fair shane was taking notes. ryan was just? dying inside

+ freak

+ imagine being like a 70 yr old priest hearing some dudes walking into ur congregation and overhearing ‘jesus said chill.’

bigfoot

+ ryan does not rly believe in bigfoot but shane does so like you win some you lose some

+ in the least shippy way possible this epsiode is ultimate soft gays going on a hike

+ like its just such a sweet domestic ep

+ <3

+ just happy babbey

#probably missing a lot and theres a lot of sources missing cos....... i dont have a bfu blog so none of my shits correctly tagged #like nivks is ORGANISED cos its dedicated but...... i only have one bfy tag oops #but HOPE U LIKE IT AND ITS LIKE a little bit informative #buzzfeed unsolved #bfu

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chininirisart · 6 years

Text

cold winds, rosy cheeks

Here’s my gift for manika-on-a-whim. Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa and I hope you enjoy this little piece. Also sending you the best wishes for the holidays! ❤

Sasuke never had any problems to wake up early before; he was well disciplined and was usually up with the sun and ready to train the moment he changed out of his sleeping clothes. Lately, he had been having a little trouble to leave his bed, though. The weather was getting colder and Sasuke hated it, because his body demanded that he stayed inside and he could not stand lounging around doing nothing.

He opened the curtains to find that it had snowed overnight. The bed seemed to call him more than ever now, but the boy stubbornly stepped away to find a warmer change of clothes for the group training scheduled for that day. Sasuke ate a light breakfast before wandering out of his little apartment and towards the training grounds, wondering distantly if Kakashi was going to present them with a different training now that the weather and temperature allowed that they step out of their routine for a bit.

Naruto’s voice reached him loud and clear, as per usual, even before he was within his sight. The blonde had a green scarf around his neck and seemed to be trying to pick up a fight with one of Kakashi’s dogs. Sakura was standing behind wearing a proper winter attire, dark red pants and coat, burying the lower half of her face into her gloved hands as she frowned at their teammate. She offered him a tremulous smile as he approached and quickly went back to protecting her skin from the biting cold.

“I told you already, kid.” Pakkun’s gruff and low voice reached him once Sasuke was close enough to them. “He’s not coming.”

“That lazy bastard!” Naruto yelled in outrage; he had the tendency to get a little out of hand when it came to Kakashi and his lateness. “He could’ve warned us yesterday!”

Pakkun directed his hooded eyes in their direction and stared at them as if he was insufferably bored before looking back at the blonde. “Listen, kid. Just be glad that he remembered to warn you at all.”

He glanced at them again, standing few feet behind Naruto, waiting to be dismissed. It was not until Sakura faintly nodded her head that he returned the gesture and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Naruto quickly launched into a tirade as he stomped his foot on the snowy ground, making Sasuke wonder if he should just turn around and return to his home.

“Maybe he was summoned by the Hokage.” Sakura’s muffled voice made Naruto stop his display and look at her. “That doesn’t stop us from doing something... Since we’re already here.”

He seemed pensive for a moment, nodded his head vigorously and then stopped. “But what?”

She shrugged slightly and shuffled on her feet. “I met Shikamaru on my way here. He said that, yesterday, Asuma-sensei made them have a few rounds of snowball fight and use their skills as ninja to win. I thought it was interesting.”

Sasuke particularly did not like to mix training with fun, but he had to admit they had very few options today. Kakashi usually supervised their training and sparred with the one genin that had not been paired with a teammate. He could easily train by himself and let the two of them spar together, but he knew that he would not get much done today. Some time was needed until he was used to all this snow around him that hindered his movements and made him want to sleep the day away.

“Us both against you, Naruto.” Sasuke stepped a little closer to Sakura. “Make a bushin or something and go hide.”

Sakura was bewildered for a few seconds, but shook her head and quietly followed him after Naruto had ran the other way. He took to the trees so they would not leave behind footsteps and wandered a little deeper into the wooded area, zig-zagging about so it would take Naruto a little longer to find them. Stopping on a branch big enough for the both of them, Sasuke observed their surroundings and tried to think of a strategy. He knew Naruto was never going to make just one clone to balance the teams out; he would obviously come at them with too many clones, most of which would serve as distraction.

At least, he knew that his aim was better than Naruto’s. And perhaps Sakura could try to cast a simple genjutsu to confuse him for a while.

Speaking of which, Sasuke slowly turned around to look at his companion. Her face was flushed and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, her entire posture curled around herself instead of the usual crouch of a ninja. “You... Are very quiet today.” He resorted to say, even if he would rather keep it to himself. It was odd enough that only Naruto had complained about Kakashi; she would usually join him on that and then later be the voice of reason.

She looked a bit sheepish and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “I don’t like the cold, that’s all.”

He hummed in contemplation, watching as a breeze played with her long pink tresses and made her shiver. “Let’s finish this quickly, then.”

Just as the words left his mouth, they were greeted by the uproarious sound of what seemed like at least ten Naruto clones coming from their left. Sakura cringed and quickly got up on her feet, and Sasuke motioned her to go first in the direction he had pointed. He did not have enough time to think of a plan, but a fireball directed their way would be enough to finish them off and buy them enough time to reach somewhere considerably safer and finally think of what to do.

He kept careful watch over her as he tried to increase the distance between him and the shouting mass coming at them, making sure that she did not trip over anything. Logically, he knew that overprotecting her would only disturb her growth as a ninja, but this came naturally to them. On regular D ranked missions, they would not bother with it as much, but when Kakashi decided to go through another round of survival training, they unconsciously did their best to keep her safe.

Shaking his head slightly, he twisted around and made the necessary signs. The fireball hurled through the trees, melting snow in the process and making all the clones disappear in a puff of smoke. The lack of canopy provided little cover, but at least their dark blue and red outfits was not as glaring as Naruto’s bright orange in the white scenery. Sasuke landed on a low branch beside Sakura, his weight disturbing the tree and causing a heap of snow on the branch above to fall on his head.

Sakura blinked at him and a strangled noise left her. Quickly, she ducked her head and covered her mouth with her hands, trying to keep her laughter in, but her shaking shoulders gave her away. He was not annoyed at her, although he did feel irritated that it just had to fall on him of all people, but rather, he was amused. Slightly. Still, he put on his best sulking face, because even if he did not mind it as much, she was still laughing at him.

As if catching on to that, Sakura quickly recomposed herself and met his eyes. She was about to apologize, he was sure of that. Silently, Sasuke grabbed whatever amount of snow on his head as possible and, reaching out, dumped it on hers instead. She shrieked a little and patted it away, restlessly jumping in place as a shiver went up and down her body.

Once she settled down, he gave her a little smirk, to which she flushed, and crouched on the branch. “We need to think of something fast before more clones find us.”

She mimicked his position and nodded in agreement, already racking her brain for something they could do. He studied her face, taking in the furrowed brow, the concentrated look that took over her features and the nibbling of her teeth on her lip. Sasuke turned to scan their surroundings and make sure they would not lose this game meanwhile trying to come up with something himself, but barely managing to think of something that could help them somehow.

Not only did the cold make him feel sluggish in the mornings, it also slowed down his brain. He hated the cold.

Thankfully, it seemed Sakura had thought of something. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder to bring his attention back to her and her large smile. “The lake.” She started, and as she went on, her eyes seemed to shine brighter. “It’s frozen. We can lure him there and you can use another jutsu to melt the ice.”

He nodded slowly, liking the plan she created. “And when he falls, he’ll be helpless and we can hit him with as many snowballs as possible. Good job, Sakura.” She flushed more at his slight praise and quickly stood up when he did the same. “Let’s go.”

Naruto quickly got over the fact that he had lost, and without Sasuke gloating about their victory as he normally would, the walk back to the village was uneventful save for him and Sakura walking ahead and talking excitedly over how fun that had been. Sasuke did not approach them to walk side by and side and settled for watching them, Naruto with his arms folded behind his head, Sakura with her hands clasped behind her back. The three of them flushed from being out in the cold for so long and, for the first time in hours, felt the need to go somewhere warmer as midday approached. The sun shone brightly and helped stave off the cold they felt, but it could never compare to the comfort a warm food indoors could provide.

The blonde was the first to separate, remembering that Iruka had promised to pay for his lunch on the first day snow fell over Konoha. Sakura now walked beside Sasuke and did not try to engage in a conversation; instead, she just looked around them and hummed a tune under her breath. She had been very resourceful during their training/playtime, thinking of the perfect way to use the terrain against Naruto. What she lacked in physical strength, Sakura could easily make up using her brain. The diversions she brought up to distract their teammate surely worked, even if Sasuke did not like the idea of being the bait at first.

They stopped at the set of stairs that led to her house. Sasuke looked up at the door as she turned to look at him instead. The weather made it hard to know if she was blushing because of the low temperature or because of him; either way, that looked almost normal on her now. A pale Sakura meant that she most likely was not faring fine; on regular days, the pink tint on her cheeks usually meant that she was not worried or scared.

He relaxed his shoulders a little and looked down at her. She was playing with a strand of her hair and peering up at him from beneath her lashes. Air left his mouth and condensed right before his nose, the fog dissipating quickly as another breeze swept by and carried a flowery scent in his direction. He could think of at least two bright blonde people that could certainly be connected to sunny days, but did she ever realize that her appearance as a whole alluded to spring just as much, if not more, than her own name? Pink hair, green eyes; Sakura was an entire season in one person.

Sasuke reached out and plucked away a twig from her locks. It must have gotten caught there while they were trying to take down Naruto back at the training grounds. Her eyes flickered to his fingers and then back up towards his face, her eyes glimmering. He released the twig and returned his hand to his pockets. Well, he should get going before he dug up more corny thoughts about her and her appearance, or before he found one more twig in her hair. He did not even need to say anything, just walk away as he usually would. Squaring his shoulders, he lifted his chin a little and instantly watched the light flicker away from her hopeful eyes.

“Look who it is!” They both jumped, startled, though Sakura had done so more obviously and whirled around to stare in horror at both her father and mother that had seemingly materialized at the bottom of the stairs. “Is he a friend of yours, Sakura-chan?”

Her face went three shades of red darker than before and she tried not to stammer. “He’s Sasuke-kun. He’s my teammate.”

Kizashi’s eyes seemed to glimmer with understanding, but Mebuki thankfully stepped in to save her daughter from some possible embarrassment her father could cause in front of their house and shop. “Nice to meet you, Sasuke-kun. We were just going to get lunch. Would you like to join us?”

He studied them quietly and then looked at Sakura again. She had half of her face hidden in her gloved hands again and was staring nervously at her toes. Keeping his amusement to himself, he returned his dark eyes to her parents. “Thank you, but no. I need to go somewhere else now.” He actually did not, but he also did not feel like being with her and her parents after they had caught them staring at each other for just a handful of seconds that had felt like an hour.

Sakura recoiled her shoulders and her father looked at her with a little concern etched on his face.

“Some other day, maybe.”

Sasuke pressed his lips together firmly and berated himself. He did not want to stay so they could think they had jumped to the right conclusion, but he just had to open his mouth and, for once, try to make her feel better by doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted.

Mebuki’s stern face softened a bit as a smile touched her lips and she nodded. “Yes, you can come by whenever you want.”

He nodded and with a quick muttered goodbye, resumed his walk to his apartment. Rounding the corner and effectively getting out of their line of vision, Sasuke touched his forehead briefly and picked up his pace. He certainly did not like the cold. Spending too much time outdoors exposed to the weather and Sakura’s blushing face made his stomach stir in a foreign way. He was getting sick, he was sure of it.

#manika-on-a-whim #narutoss2017 #sasusaku #fanfiction #naruto fanfic

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quinnorsmth · 4 years

Text

i’m... i’m gonna post my discord rant here. don’t mind me, i’m just a boy from a crumbling home. never mind the random trigger mentions too, that’s for the spoilers that didn’t copy over from discord, heh.

self harm

the fun part about relapsing is that it doesn't seem to happen intermittently, it's kinda all at once. i'm steady enough that i won't do anything tonight but there's still this kinda chant in the back of my head y'know. just this cut cut cut cut from an overload of stress

and part of me - and i won't, i'm fine - part of me wants to just do it to shut the urge up, but i know that'll just keep the waves coming. i shouldn't've let myself slip in the first place, is the issue. it just... hit. things have been bad at home, i'm not functioning at school, i'm emotionally volatile and everything is just... messy.

i wanna bleed it out. i won't, i won't, but the tide's still high.

suicide

and like... i didn't mean to live this long anyway. senior year of high school, i always thought i'd've thrown myself off a roof or overdosed when i got to college, y'know? no more supervision, no one knew me yet, it'd've been perfect.

problem was with the height, y'know. buildings around here are too short. overdoses are more likely to fail than not. cutting to kill is too much effort.

ironically, the same anxiety and depression that make me wanna die have kept me from doing anything too risky. fear of failure, chronic fatigue.

as above

i even meant to just... throw all've that in a melting pot the start of this semester. week before class, i made that decision. end of august, i'd overdose, bleed out as much as i could, find the tallest parking deck around town and jump, angle myself to break my head open or something.

didn't manage it, though. DID has its perks, if you'd consider having someone in your own head sabotage your suicide attempt.

and now we're both kinda regretting it. we have vague plans for something abroad if everything goes to shit.

as above

and i guess i regret having even come here - not because of anyone on the server, but i regret making connections. regret having a reason to stick around, more people to talk me outta it. it was more feasible when i was isolating, when the only consistent connection i had was emotionally toxic. we'd even been in counseling because we were going so far downhill, and part of it was her fault.

i wish she pushed me further, wish i was better at debates. could've talked system member into letting me give this a shot, maybe i would've won.

i dunno. suicide's been my endgame for a long time. i've been losing this game for too long, though.

...wonder how long it'd take for anyone to write home and tell them i was found dead somewhere. i'll be abroad in Denmark while most of the rest of my studio will be in Rome. hell, they may not even hear about it, might just get back to my parents. they might all come back for one last year of school and wonder where i went.

i dunno.

i appreciate when people reach out, y'know. i like knowing that i'm cared about, but it also feels like someone smashing a baseball bat over my head.

i'm losing - hell, i'm not even making progress. i'm not doing any better. i've just been skating and i'm sick of it.

i wanna win. i want out.

been at this for almost... what, 7 years? give or take.

self harm, suicide

been self-harming for longer than that. i just - i remember starting a log of days i felt like i wanted to die back in late 2012. that was the first time i thought maybe this isn't normal

y'know. after i got used to shallow cuts with safety pins and broken scissors. only after that did i decide something was off.

so it's almost the anniversary of... of that. christmas eve.

i always feel a little fuzzy on christmas eve.

as above, alcohol

sometimes i'm tempted to plan for an out then, it'd be conclusive, poetic, maybe. i don't have the heart to give my sis and my dad something to cry about on christmas though.

don't care if mom'd cry though. she's the reason we fell this hard. i'm not one to blame people for my own mind, honest, but honestly, if she'd reached out instead of drowning herself in alcohol, i feel like i'd be better.

as above

she'd get loud. she doesn't have much of an indoor voice anyway, whatever, whatever. it gets worse when she's too shit-faced to hear herself. lil 14 year old Nate didn't take kindly to that, y'know, always had some noise sensitivity, it got worse when she got worse. got worse when loud started meaning mom isn't lucid anymore.

as above, emotional abuse

it's hit a point where she's kinda... i hesitate to use the term emotionally abusive, but system member and sis both say otherwise. she asks you a question and nitpicks your answer until you tell her what she wants to hear. what do you want for dinner isn't caring anymore, it's a fucking nightmare. everything's a game of guess and check with her.

she gaslights too, god, it's awful, and we already have problems with reality and doubting ourselves. she'll just make shit up, try and turn us against each other. she screams at my sis for not starting dinner when sis was working all day, then goes to dad and tells him sis was in the wrong. we all know she's full of shit by now but it's exhausting.

above, eating disorder

she doesn't use her fucking words anymore, y'know? she'll say can someone help me with this when she means to say can dad come over here with a toolbox to fix the sink or whatever, but she doesn't just... say that. doesn't ask, likes playing these shitty mind games with us. i come over not knowing what she wants and she blames me for not being dad and not having the toolbox.

eating around her is even hell. we order chinese food, i have dumplings. i eat five, she says i'm not eating enough. eat six, i've had too many, why didn't you share with me, no no, i don't want any, i had a quarter of a sandwich at 11am so i'm stuffed.

she pulls this shit on her daughter with an eating disorder and her son who hardly feeds himself as it is. pulls this shit around her husband who's trying to keep his weight in check. it's probably 'cause she's overweight and unwilling to do anything about it. there's nothing wrong with being heavier, but i think she hates that she is overweight, and she wants to drag us down with her.

mentioned death

and... yeah, yeah. she just drags us down with her no matter what we do or what we say. talks about dead relatives, pets, rants about her old workplace she hasn't worked at in over 2 years, turns every good memory toward something sour, oh i miss our old dog, your grandpa was such a nice man, anything she can to try and make us miserable too.

i wonder if that's a bit of why i'm fucking depressed. so used to being around someone who seems to thrive off misery.(edited)

alcohol

just - i feel nauseous any time she's in the room. anything is a reason to fight, reason to be angry, miserable, reason to drink.

and hell, if she has the best day of her life, she still drinks. time to celebrate, eh? no moderation for an addict, i suppose.

alcohol

i've never been one for physical contact without consent, but it's worse with her. sometimes she gets too giddy when she drinks, squeals like a high school girl, clambers all over people like a lap dog. she grabs me by the shoulders and i panic because i don't want her touching me. it's not even mom when she's that wasted, it's some drunk fuck in my house pretending she loves me.

she doesn't. mom, maybe, but even sober mom is a shot in the dark. sometimes she's just fucking mean. talks about shit to make people uncomfortable, critiques us without ever looking at herself. drunk mom's worse.

it's... insufferable. and it's why we have DID to begin with. i can't cope with her. system members can. one of us has had to shove her off before. she went and cried about it to dad, i had to tell him she was actually hurting us - and not intentionally, i get that, but she's over twice my weight and i'm kinda frail, honestly.

i can't go downstairs after like, 6pm anymore. it's always a system member, or one of them is active with me and talking when she's around because i can't do it.

not even safe in my own fucking house. i have to wait for her to go upstairs before i can get water from the fridge. it doesn't feel safe.

emotional abuse, alcohol, suicide

and like - look, she'd never physically hurt us, never intentionally, but emotionally? she's fucking mean. she wants us to be just as miserable, she wants to pick fights, she wants to pretend she's the victim when she's screaming at sis and shoving dad around in a drunken haze. it's not safe being around her because she'll fight.

we have no other choice but to avoid her. she's a walking landmine.

y'know what stings worst about this? i remember a time when she was a wonderful woman. she was great. she was great.

that mom's gone though. 12 years of alcoholism have killed her. even when she's sober she isn't the woman who raised me. hell, she's been gone since i was 15, probably. i wonder if some part of me made that connection, if that's why 2012 was the first time i ever recorded suicidal urges.

i miss her, y'know. 10 year old Nate's mom.

death, suicide

come to think of it, grandpa died a month after christmas. my urges started around that anniversary. funny how shit works like that, huh.(edited)

wonder if it's because she got shitfaced that night. kinda a shame teen Nate didn't give much of a reason for wanting to die beyond feeling some general stress and unease.

...there's no solution here, either. her brain's too far gone.

i wanna feel safe in my own family. i've had to retreat into my own head to find any solace.

...sorry. i'm bitter.

i oughta delete this in the morning.

#unheard unspoken

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