#8 hours later and my head still hurts a little from all the noise

[tiny-tf-faces]

I just queued a bunch of faces and I feel like I've posted some of them before, but they're not showing up in tag search so I'm gonna assume I've just scrolled past them so many times while looking for stuff to post that it's making me think I've posted them

A few of them might also be people's santinyclaus gifts. If that's the case, then sorry about that

Anyways, if I post a face that's already appeared on this blog, please let me know so I can replace it with a new one

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.8

Warnings: Angst

Ch.7 Here | Ch.9 Here

***

An anger like you had never felt radiated from Azriel, as he turned slowly to face Rhysand. “What did you call her?” He demanded, shadows swirling in a frenzy.

Rhysand gave a cold laugh. “She is my wife, is she not?”

Azriel took a step closer to the still-injured male. “Enough with this game, Rhysand. I have allowed you to use her for long enough, it ends now.” His words brought confusion to your mind, pocketing them for later. This was certainly not the time to bring up your concerns.

“I am your High Lord, you do not ‘allow’ me to do anything. I do as I please, and you stand by my side.” A dark power glinted off him, danger thick in the air.

“Get your head out of your ass. She has done nothing but be wonderful for you. Why do you choose to treat her this way?” Anger was clouding Azriel’s vision, completely over his brother’s bullshit.

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “How many times do we have to go over this? You know it is you I like to upset. She is nothing but a pawn in a much larger game.”

You pushed off the countertop and stepped around Azriel to stare down your husband. “This is over, Rhysand. If you don’t call for the priestess, I will.” You were sick and tired of this nightmare.

“You will do no such thing. I am the High Lord, what I say goes.” A disgusting arrogance wafted from him, a confidence that he did not deserve. You didn’t hesitate to get close to him, getting in his face.

“You are a despicable male. I almost feel sorry for Feyre, having you as her mate. If only she hadn’t made it clear that she’s as nasty as you are.” Anger flashed through his eyes, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “I was your wife for 150 years, Rhysand. Regardless of if you were using me for some game, we lived and laid together as husband and wife. I used to think you had created the world for me, and now I see that you have only used me to hurt your brother. For what gain?” You weren’t going to keep your thoughts quiet, no longer afraid of him hurting you. You’d rather feel pain than live under his nightmarish shadow any longer.

Rhysand was taken aback. He blinked slowly at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Azriel took her. Did he ever tell you?” His voice was almost devoid of emotion, an ancient argument pulling from the ground.

“She is what this has all been about? I have told you countless times Rhys, I did not take her from you. She never mentioned anything about you!” Azriel blurted out, raising his hands in frustration.

You looked between the two males curiously, waiting for further explanation.

“When we were young, there was a girl,” Rhysand began, “in the Illyrian war camp we trained at. Her name was Annabella, and she was my first love.” His voice broke a little as he turned to you. “I kept it a secret from Az and Cass, embarrassed to be so head over heels for her. At that age it was about fighting and fucking, not falling in love.” Azriel murmured in agreement, watching his brother carefully.

“I was courting her in secret, taking her out in the night. We spent hours under the stars, talking and laughing. I truly believed she was going to my wife, my love until the end of my days.” His gaze moved to Azriel. “Until she betrayed me.”

Azriel grunted, clearly uncomfortable with what Rhysand was about to tell. “She began to go after Az. She won him over with pretty words and seductive touches. He had no idea about her and I, but that didn’t matter to me.” His stare grew hard, lost in the painful memories. “I came home early one day, excited for another night with her. I opened the door to find her on top of my brother on the couch. Neither of them noticed me at first, and I could only watch in horror as two of the most important beings to me ruined my life.”

Azriel made a noise of discomfort, fidgeting on his feet. “Rhys, you know I didn’t know.” Rhysand held up a hand, stopping him from saying any more.

“I know that now. At the time, I wasn’t thinking rationally.” He turned back to you. “I let my power escape me, throwing the room into a hellish pit of dark. Azriel pulled her out and they ran, getting to safety. I destroyed that cabin. I almost destroyed the entire camp too, but Cassian ended up pulling me deep into the woods instead. He had no idea what happened, just knew he had to get me far away.” He took a deep breath and looked at Azriel.

“I decided then and there you would suffer the way I had. Even after you apologized and explained her trickery, my pain was too strong. The sight of the two of you played over and over in my mind, like some sick nightmare.” Rhysand shook his head, a humorless laugh coming from him. “Then I saw you two, and I knew I had found the one.” He shifted his focus back to you, an apology almost in his eyes.

“I am sorry that you were caught in this crossfire. The way I have acted recently, it has been terrible. Once I found Feyre I should have let you go, let you live your own life.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t. Not at first, not when she still hated me. I realize now that at some point my anger went from Azriel to the both of you. That wasn’t fair.”

It wasn’t quite an apology, but it was more honest than he had been in recent times.

“I never connected it,” Azriel said, voice quiet. “I didn’t realize you were still so hurt by it all. You hid it too well, brother.”

Rhysand looked at him. “Perhaps I did. I have only caused more hurt in the end, and to all the wrong ones. The only one who deserved to hurt was Annabella.”

A horrible thought came over you. “What did happen to her?” You asked, hesitant to know the answer.

Rhysand gave another empty laugh. “Not enough. I had her sent to a different camp, as far from ours as possible. I don’t really know what happened to her after, and her name was never brought up again. I assume she married some Illyrian there, settled down as his wife.”

Azriel cleared his throat, a small glimpse of shame on his face. “I truly did not know.” The shame quickly turned to anger. “But what you have done is beyond reason. How long were you going to fool her into believing you were her loving husband?”

Rhysand glanced at you. “I was her loving husband. As I told you all those years ago, Azriel, I could see myself grow to love her. Truthfully, I did. I loved her harder than I ever loved anyone else, especially Annabella.” His words were thick, the emotion causing tears to well up in your eyes. “Under the Mountain, Amarantha had me do truly terrible things. I didn’t pull away from you at first due to Feyre. It was due to fear of you seeing the monster I had become.”

You sighed, taking one of his hands in your own. “Rhys, you should have known better. I would never have seen you as a monster for what she forced you to do.” You gave his hand a small squeeze before dropping it. Your voice was hard as you continued. “You became a monster when you decided it was okay to treat me like dirt in front of your pretty little mate.”

He didn’t like that, dark power lashing out towards you. You stood strong, a lighter power radiating from you, keeping him at bay. “I am not to be played with anymore, Rhysand.” He backed down, a glint of anger still in his eye. “The way you have treated me is inexcusable. I do not care what happened centuries ago with you and Azriel, I do not care about your heartbreak. To use me to rectify that hurt is disgusting. You knew better than to act like that,” you sneered at him, your own anger rising in you.

“You will not talk to me like that-“

“I will talk to you however I please! I do not care what happens with Feyre, this marriage is over either way. Summon the priestess in the morning, or I will. Get the fuck out of my sight, Rhysand,” you demanded, power growing stronger around you.

He hesitated, ready to argue before remembering his weakened state. “This isn’t over,” he spat, turning on his heel and storming out of the cabin.

Azriel turned to you, smiling wide. “You are amazing,” he gushed, opening his arms to pull you close to him.

You stuck a hand out, palm hitting his chest and stopping his movements. “You are not off the hook either, Shadowsinger. Explain what you meant by ‘I have allowed you to use her for long enough.” Azriel backed away from your glare, shame radiating from his body.

“I don’t think now is the best time to talk about this,” he tried, shaking his head.

“No. I am done agreeing to whatever anyone else wants. You will explain, or I will tell you to leave with Rhysand.” He shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I knew,” he said, voice quiet, “all those years ago. When Rhys started courting you. I knew that he knew I had feelings for you.” He straightened up, voice growing stronger. “I confronted him about it. I told him to not play with you, that it wasn’t fair to use you like that. Never once did I think his actions had anything to do with Annabella. I only thought that he had gotten too cocky with his new High Lord title, that he had this insatiable desire to have the best of everything.” His eyes were sad as he looked over you. “You were the best, are the best.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing for him to continue.

“He promised he would treat you as you deserved, that he would be the perfect husband regardless of how he felt. He did promise to learn to love you, even if the relationship began on a lie.” A shadow twirled around your hand, almost begging you to come to him. You shook it off.

“He proposed not long after that.” Azriel finished, unsure if he should look at you or the ground.

“So you knew,” you spoke slowly, “that he began everything on a lie, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your happiness!” He shot out, eyes wide.

“You were my best friend, Azriel. I trusted you with everything even before Rhysand, and you allowed him to con me into a marriage?” All you could see was red, anger overtaking you.

“I was trying to protect you,” he defended himself, crossing his arms.

“Protect me?! Look where we are now! My husband has turned out to be the worst being in the world, and you allowed that to happen. You allowed all of this happen!” You were screaming now, but you didn’t care. Let the rest of the house hear, let the camp hear, let everyone in Prythian hear.

“The two most important males to me have turned out to be the two dirtiest liars in existence! How am I to ever trust you again, Azriel?” He shrunk back into his shadows, darkness covering his face.

“I suppose I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said quietly. There was an edge to his voice, a dangerous anger.

You sighed, the red clearing from your vision as the fight rushed out of you. “I am tired. I need to think.” You walked towards the stairs, pausing at the base of them. “Do not come find me until I decide you can.”

Azriel stood in silence in the kitchen as you walked away, vision focused on the door. Ancient rage coursed through his veins, moving him towards it subconsciously. He only had one thought on his mind.

Find Rhysand.

And make him pay for what he had done.

***

things are getting seriousssssss! please let me know your thoughts about this chapter as always, i LOVE reading what you guys say!!!!! if you want to be added to the taglist let me know :)

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain @abeltownshipslittlebitch @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @fxckmiup @its-sam-allgood @miluiel1 @nickishadow139 @hailqueenconquer @mika-no-sekai-blog @books-hlmc @stonerpersona @starsinyourseyes @meshellexplosionmurder @acourtofbatboydreams @captainsbaby @anuttellaa

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[mermaidgirl30]

Look for the Light by Mermaidgirl30 on A03

Pairings: Joel x You, Joel x Fem! Reader

Summary: This is one of the chapters from my long fic Look for the Light. It’s a slow burn full of angst and spice! Slow burn that explodes into a hot flame.Just thought I’d give you a taste of it. (I recommend reading the whole story instead of this one chapter, but if you’re in the mood for some smut then dig in. It can be read as a stand alone, but you will want more) This chapter is all about kitchen counters 😉

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, cream pie, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral sex, praise kink

You awoke the next morning with the sunlight trying to peek through the lacy curtains that were pulled shut, a tiny strand of light finding its way through the bottom as it lit up the dark wooden floor. The silk sheets clung to your exposed legs and felt like soft clouds as the sheets entangled you. You let out a yawn as you stretched your arms overhead and then rolled over to find an empty bed, only the soft outline in the mattress left where Joel slept. You let out a sigh and wished he was still in bed with you so you could play with his tousled bed hair.

You heard some clinging around downstairs and footsteps that echoed all the way up the staircase. That must be Joel making a pot of coffee. You turned your head slightly and found the old digital clock on the small sage bedside table. The clock read 8:00am. You had gotten a full night’s sleep, 11 hours to be exact. When was the last time you had slept that long? You couldn’t even remember. You felt refreshed and energetic, two things you hadn’t felt in a long time.

After a couple more minutes of taking in the heat of the bed, you decided it was time to get up. You slowly crept out of bed and walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch on the wall as the fluorescent lights around the mirror came on. You turned the faucet to hot and waited till the water was warm enough, quickly lathering your face in water and washing away the sleep in your eyes. You brushed your teeth with minty toothpaste and then quickly ran the brush through your long waves.

You decided on keeping the pink tank top and matching pajama shorts with the silky bow tied around the top on. You weren’t planning on leaving the house till later in the afternoon, so why not be comfy till then. You found a stick of shimmery chapstick on the counter and untwisted the cap, sliding the pink shade across your lips. You rubbed your top and bottom lip together and pursed your lips, checking the rest of your facial features. You decided you looked good enough as your long lashes blinked a couple more times in the mirror.

Before turning around you caught sight of your left arm in the mirror. You had unwrapped it last night before your shower, figuring it was time to let it breathe again. You slowly took your fingers and ran over the long scar that was there. The one David had marked you with.

In time it should fade, but every second that you saw it you hated it even more. It didn’t hurt like it used to. Now it was just a distant pain that stung only the tiniest bit if too much pressure was applied. It was just a reminder of that cold day you spent locked in that lodge, away from Joel.

You heard another noise come from downstairs as it sounded like a chair being scraped across the floor. Joel. That’s who you wanted to see more than anything right now. So you left behind the ghost of the past in the mirror, ignoring the mark on your arm.

You turned and shut off the bathroom lights, making your way across the squeaky floorboards as you opened the bedroom door and descended the sturdy staircase, sliding your hand gracefully down the railing. Once you reached the bottom of the staircase you turned the corner and came upon a sight that made your heart beat just a little faster.

Joel was sitting in the kitchen chair next to the wooden round table with a cup of coffee in his hands, taking slow sips from the white mug. You looked him over before you walked over to him, wanting a minute to wade in his presence, pick over every flawless feature he displayed.

His tousled hair was messy as he took a hand and ran it through his locks, the silver reflecting as the light caught it at just the right angle. You watched as his thick, veiny hands came back to his coffee cup, leaving a few strands of hair to fall back out of place. God you wanted to run your hands through his hair right now, pushing back those thick locks of salt and pepper color as you lost yourself in him.

He wore a red flannel with the top two buttons undone as a fitted brown shirt showed underneath. Dark blue jeans were fitted perfectly against his muscular legs that ended with clean, new dark boots. He was handsome as hell. A sight that always made your heartbeat skip just a little faster with every glance he stole from you.

He took another swig of his coffee as he brought the cup up to his lips, gulping down the warm liquid that sat in the cup. You wanted to be that coffee cup as the edges kissed the tips of his lips, leaving behind that strong, bitter taste in his mouth. But you wouldn’t be bitter. No, you’d leave behind a sweet, savory, aromatic taste that he couldn’t quite get enough of. He’d chase the taste, drinking you down until he got his fill of you. But he’d keep coming back for more. Drinking and downing you until he was fully intoxicated. A taste he could never get rid of.

You fought back the urge from biting your lip as you lingered in his presence, thinking of unholy thoughts that wanted to be awakened, brought to life right here, right now. He caught you staring as he cleared his throat, eyebrows raised at you. “Are you just going to keep staring or are you going to come in the kitchen?”

You shook your head out of the trance, your cheeks turning red from embarrassment. “Oh, sorry. Just got lost in my head for a minute,” you said nervously as you walked forward into the light.

“Wanna share those thoughts of yours?” He set his coffee cup down on the table and leaned forward in his chair, waiting for an answer.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying not to get any redder than you already were. “You didn’t wake me this morning?”

“Thought you needed the sleep.”

You nodded at that. “And what about you? Did you get enough sleep?” you asked questionably.

“That was the most sleep I’ve had in a long time. So believe me, I got enough.” He picked up his coffee cup as he brought it back up to his lips and tilted his head back, sucking down the liquid until he placed it back on the table.

A drop of coffee fell against his lip, and he licked it clean. You gulped as you watched him, focusing in on his lips as they sucked you in. His voice brought you back to reality, moving your eyes back up to his. “There’s a fresh pot brewed on the cabinet if you want any coffee,” he motioned with his head in that direction.

“Absolutely.” You eyed the black liquid as it sat simmering in the pot. The smell filled the kitchen, hints of hazelnut and caramel encapsulating the air. You started walking in that direction, almost passing Joel until his hand shot out and snatched your wrist, pulling you down onto his lap. You gasped as he circled his arms around your waist, pulling you in so you couldn’t get up. Your heart was in your throat as his warm honey eyes swarmed yours.

“Mornin’, gorgeous.” The words left his lips as a small smile crept up to his mouth, making his eyes sparkle that much more.

“Good morning, handsome.” You took your arm and hooked it around the back of his neck, resting your fingers on the nape of the neck. “You’re in an unusually good mood this morning.”

He laughed as he took his hand and slowly trailed it up your arm, leaving behind goosebumps as your skin crawled with anticipation. “It’s amazing what a cup of coffee and a full night of sleep will do for a man.”

He traced his hand up your face, running the rough, calloused fingers against your cheek. Burning your skin with just the touch from his fingertips as he traced you slowly. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the burn he was leaving behind. “Mmmm guess so,” you answered with a smile as you fought yourself from digging your hands in his hair.

“But I can think of one more thing that’d make it even better.” He lowered his hand and cupped your chin, slowly running his thumb on the bottom of your lip.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Your free hand slid up to rest on his chest, trying your best not to innocently unbutton his plaid shirt, wanting so badly to run your hands over his bare, muscular abs.

“This.” He pulled you in and crushed his lips against yours, tangeling his hand in your long waves. His tongue found yours as you parted your mouth and invited him in. His warm breath invaded your mouth as your tongue collided with his in a dance. He tasted so damn good as his tongue dipped into your mouth even more. You could taste the hint of hazelnut coffee that he had just downed seconds ago, awakening all your senses. A taste you could get drunk on. Savouring it like it was the last taste you’d ever experience.

He smelled like fresh lavender scented soap and sunshine, his hair feeling like a bed made of velvet roses as you gently raked your fingers through the ends of his dark hair. One of his hands trailed down the length of your spine, setting off tingles as it dipped lower against the small of your back.

Your insides were burning as he set off fires inside you with his hands, his lips, his scent. You wanted to be doused with more flames as they singed at your skin. Surrounding you, engulfing you, pinning you down as they consumed all of you. You burned for him. Completely and unconditionally.

Before you could get even more wrapped up in him than you already were you heard Ellie enter the room, interrupting the fires that didn’t want to be put out.

“Gross! Can you two please not do that at the table?” Ellie yelled in disgust.

The two of you pulled apart in a hurry as you jumped up off Joel’s lap and turned to face her. Your face beat red from embarrassment as you were still caught up in the moment. You heard Joel huff in frustration as he didn’t want the moment to end either. “How about you not sneak up on us? I didn’t even know you were awake.”

“Well, I am. Now I’m just going to forget I saw that. Ugh.” She scrunched up her nose and shook her head like she just witnessed something so repulsive that she never wanted to see it again.

“Sorry, Ellie,” you said as you hugged your arms against yourself, still embarrassed for her sake.

“It’s fine. It happens, I guess. Hey, what’s that smell? Coffee?” She put her nose high in the air and smelled, taking in all the different whiffs.

“Sure is. Nothing for you though,” Joel said as he downed another gulp of coffee, keeping the cup firm in his hand.

“Is that what’s in your cup? Can I try?” she asked as she walked over and tried to take the cup from Joel’s grasp.

“Give me that,” he said with a deep edge to his voice, yanking back the cup out of her reach.

“But I want to try! I’ve never had coffee,” she pouted, folding her arms over her chest.

“You’re too damn young for coffee.”

“Just let me try a sip. Pleaseeeee,” she begged, giving him puppy dog eyes. She wouldn’t let up until she got what she wanted.

Joel held back his tongue as he flexed his jaw, getting annoyed with Ellie. She just kept looking at him as she stood her ground. She wouldn’t back down. Joel finally gave in. Rolling his eyes and slamming the cup back on the table.

“Alright, fine! Just stop looking at me like that will you? God you’re annoying,” he said as he stood up, pushing the chair back as it slid across the wooden floor, squeaking as it went.

“I’ll pour you just a little bit, but I’m telling ya you’re not gonna like it. I make my coffee black and strong. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, kid.” He lifted the pot and poured just the tiniest bit into a black coffee mug, holding it out for her to take. “Don’t drop it either. Be careful.”

She excitedly reached out and grabbed the mug from him, quickly putting her lips to the edge and tilting it back. You watched her expression turn from excitement to pure disgust as she swallowed and pursed her lips like she was about to spit it right back out.

Joel was holding in a laugh as he watched her drink. She handed the mug back to Joel and shook her head. “You drink this stuff? It’s fucking awful! Blegh. There’s no flavor. How the hell do you like that?”

Joel’s laugh rang through the room as he watched her face shift from disgust to annoyed. You’d never heard him laugh that loud before. It was so strange, but you loved it. It was something new, something you didn’t know you needed to hear. It was infectious, could make the whole room chime in with him. You lightly laughed as you watched the two of them. Joel looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Ellie looking like she wanted to punch Joel in the arm.

“I like it like that, it’s how I’ve already drank it,” he said as he shrugged at Ellie, pouring himself another cup.

“Well, you’re weird. I’m gonna head to the stables now. Maria told me to be there early, and I want to go see how Shimmer’s holding up. See you two love birds later.” Ellie started walking away, but Joel stopped her.

“Ellie, grab another jacket. It’s cold outside,” Joel yelled before she walked out of the house.

“But I..”

“Just go grab one and listen to me.”

“Alright, alright.” She ran into her room and came out with a light blue jacket as she put it on and zipped it up, racing back to the door.

“Ellie,” Joel called again.

“What?”

“Be back before dark,” he demanded.

“Roger that. Bye Aly!” she called as she ran out the door, slamming it shut after her. You looked over at Joel and raised your eyebrows at him, a smile tugging at your mouth.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“She’s growing on you, isn’t she?” you asked in a carefree voice.

His face stared blankly at you, his jaw going from flexed to relaxed. His eyes were sheepish as he was trying to find the words to say. “No, I wouldn’t exactly say that…”

You snapped back at him playfully. “Joel Miller, do not lie to me! I can see with my own eyes she is. Don’t try to hide it because I can see right through you.”

He looked defeated, conflicted as his facial expressions went from confused to admittance. He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I guess maybe she’s growing on me a bit. Don’t make such a fuss about it.”

“I’m not,” you laughed. “It’s just that I’ve never heard you laugh that hard before. It’s nice…I like your laugh.” You gave him a shy smile as you moved a couple steps closer to him.

“Is that so?” He stepped closer to you, setting his coffee mug back down by the sink.

“Mhm,” you hummed.

He was now right in front of you as he put his hands on your hips. “I could name a few things off that I like about you too..” He was holding you in place, scraping his eyes over your face, your body.

“Oh yeah? And what are those?” you whispered as you felt your cheeks start to burn again.

“One, I like your eyes. Those damn beautiful ocean eyes that could lure me in like a siren song as they pull me under the waves to sink.”

“Oh…” That was the most romantic thing he had ever said. You wanted to hear it again as it replayed in your head on repeat like a song you couldn’t quite shake.

“Two…” He took a step forward and pushed you back further, almost touching the edge of the kitchen counter. “I like your long brunette hair and the way it falls in waves down your shoulders. I like the way that I can twist my hand in your hair, and you’ll respond to me just like that.” He grabbed a hold of the back of your hair and tugged lightly, your head snapping up as he pulled again, your chin higher as he came dangerously close to your mouth. You gulped as you looked into those dark eyes that scorched your skin.

“Three…” He backed you up all the way into the counter, caging you in as he put his arms on each side of you, leaning in closer. One more inch and his mouth would be on yours. Fuck. “I like the way your breath hitches every time I hang right above your lips. The way you kiss, the way you taste like summer..”

He was skimming his lips across yours, his forehead leaning into you as he took one hand and gently traced your lips with his thumb. It was too much. The tension was hanging heavy in the air as you struggled to keep your breathing steady. The way he was talking to you was enough to make you evaporate into thin air, break apart the tension that was encasing the two of you in this room.

“What else…” Your voice was in a trance-like state, barely getting your words out.

“And your scent. God, your scent. You always smell like lilacs and it’s fucking intoxicating…” He ran a hand through your hair and leaned into you, caressing your arm as he traced it from your bare shoulder all the way to your wrist.

The tension was thicker now, almost suffocating you entirely. “Joel…” You were practically begging him to touch you, to ravish you until you were no more.

“Do you remember that day you bet me that you could shoot more runners than I could?”

“How could I forget?”

“And how I had you backed up against the tree..” He pushed you against the counter, hands going below your legs.

“Mhm..” You couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t speak straight.

“I think we should pick up from where we left off. What do you think?” he whispered against your ear. Before you could say anything he lifted you up and set you on top of the counter, spreading your legs open as he stepped inside. Your legs dangling off the ground as he gently placed his hands on your thighs.

His fingers slowly working their way up your thighs, feeling electricity sliding along every fingertip that grazed your thigh. You gulped when his fingers stopped at the edges of your shorts, ever so slowly moving them higher up your thigh. Your breathing was rapid as his touch scorched your skin, enticing you to dance in the flames.

“Tell me to stop and I will..” His fingers went back and forth slowly, exploring your smooth thighs, teasing at the edges of your silk shorts, tugging at the bow that was tied at the top of your shorts, slowly undoing it. Oh fuck. Your breathing was rapid, your breaths barely coming out normally. He was staring at you, eyes hounding you as he was waiting for a response from you, but it was so damn hard to say anything at that moment when all you wanted was for him to sink his whole body into you.

“Don’t stop..” you breathed out, gasping as the contact from his fingers was stirring something deep inside you. Heat building at the base of your spine.

He smirked up at you, a devilish grin stealing the corners of his mouth as his eyes turned darker. Warm honey turning to black pits the longer he looked at you. Fuck. He looked like he wanted to devour you, to take and take until you had nothing left to give.

You gulped as he leaned over and put his lips to your ear, grazing against your skin as he whispered, “Let me remind you where we left off then.” His mouth was on your neck in an instant. Nipping, sucking and biting into every sensitive crevice. You choked on a moan as he found that one spot that made you pulse with desire. He noticed your reaction and sunk his mouth down again deeper. And it hit again, driving you fucking mad.

He took his lips off your neck and backed up a step, taking in your reaction as your breathing was nowhere near calm. You watched him carefully roll up his sleeves to his elbows, exposing the deep veins that covered his arms, his hands. His hands were so big, strong. And his arms. God his arms were so thick, muscular. And his shoulders were so broad, so big.

He looked so damn good in his button up shirts as they pulled against his muscles. Something about a man in plaid made you feel things, made you want things. Especially when that man was Joel Miller. You had never wanted a man as much as you wanted him. He was lethal, dangerous, sexy, everything you wanted. Everything you needed.

He was watching you carefully as he adjusted his sleeves, eyes still burning into yours. You felt the heat in his gaze and it radiated deep down inside you. An itch that needed to be scratched. “Did that help jog your memory?” he asked with a deep voice, his eyes on his sleeves until he was looking up at you with dark eyes.

“Yes..” you breathed. You remembered that day clearly. The part where he backed you up against the tree, tangling your legs around his back while he held you against the rough bark. His lips exploring your neck as a moan escaped your mouth, but then he stopped. You didn’t want him to stop this time. You wouldn’t let him. Not this time.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you said as you reached out for him, your hand landing on his shoulder. You needed his touch again. Craved it, a hunger that you needed to feed on.

Joel took a step forward, in between your spread legs as he placed his hands back on your thighs gently. “Oh darlin’, I’m not stopping this time. I’m going to take you all the way…” His fingers grazed against the inside of your thighs, tingling every nerve in your body as you felt a wet sensation filling your center up. The inside of your thighs became hot, sticky as you imagined his hands exploring all of you. Fuck. You were wet just thinking about it.

You tried to squeeze your thighs together to make that pool of desire lessen some, but Joel was in the way. Your legs weren’t going anywhere with him standing there holding your legs in place. You needed his touch more than anything right now. The air was too hot, the tension boiling over as it burned every inch of your body. You needed him like you needed a cold glass of water to extinguish the flames that were setting your core on fire.

“Joel…”

“Yes?” he drawled out, coming in closer. So close you could reach out and grab him, and that’s exactly what you did.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him to you, your lips finding his in an instant as you wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your nails into the back of his hair. He ravaged your mouth as he bit your bottom lip and then shoved his tongue inside you, finding your tongue fast. His coffee taste was strong as you drank him in, taking every sip you could manage.

While he was kissing you he managed to sneak his way under your shirt, his hands scratching against your hips as he shoved the light pink tank top higher, exposing your stomach. “Arms up for me,” he demanded.

You didn’t waste a second and listened to him. Your arms went up over your head and then he was pulling your shirt over your head, throwing it to the side of the counter, leaving you with only your lacy black bra on. Joel scraped his eyes over you and groaned, his eyes growing darker.

He pulled you back in for a kiss as his lips devoured yours. One of his hands slid behind the back of your head as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the other hand was sliding up your back as he was dangerously close to the clasp of your bra.

You were intoxicated by him, the coffee taste seeping onto your tongue and colliding with your taste buds as he swirled his tongue around your mouth. You were drunk off him, wanting to indulge in all of him. Taste him.

He slowly unhooked the clasp with one hand while he swallowed you whole with his mouth, slowly pulling your bra free and tossing it to the floor in a heap. His hands slid down slowly to your full breasts, grabbing and teasing you as your nipples pebbled.

You let out a low moan into his mouth as his hands kept exploring, making your breasts swell and the inside of your thighs become wetter as a growing need settled inside you.

He took his mouth off yours and trailed against your ear as he whispered, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. That what you want?” His voice was like honey as it came out low and gruff, making you want to come undone.

You writhed against him as he pulled on your ear, planting another kiss on the middle of the neck. Right at that spot that drove you crazy. “Mhmm,” you gasped out as a low moan got caught in your throat.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked as he went lower, dipping down to the center of your chest. He trailed kisses all the way from your neck, to the middle of your breasts, and then he was circling your hard nipples with his wet tongue, giving you sensations you had never felt before.

You could feel just how wet you were now. The lacy material of your underwear was sticking to you as it became damp, hot as you pulsed with desire. You needed release, you needed him. You shifted your hips as you bucked up, gasping for air as you fought the urge. You squeezed your thighs against Joel, giving him a hint of what you needed.

He got the hint fast as he drew his attention from your breasts and stepped back. His eyes skating down your body as they landed on the hem of your shorts, sliding his fingers down to the edge of your waistband, teasing his fingers along the untied ribbon at the top. You were gaping up at him, your mouth ajar as you were silently begging him to dip his fingers beneath your layers.

His eyes were watching you closely, the color changing from dark brown to pitch black. Two of his fingers pulled back the waistband of your shorts. Going back and forth as he toyed with the material, still not shedding you of them.

You squirmed under his touch, trying to let him know how much you needed it. He was enjoying this as he smirked at you with that devilish look in his eyes. He pulled on the top of your shorts again as you bit your lip in response. “Tell me what you want. Use your words,” he said as he slid his other hand down your thigh. Goosebumps automatically forming under his touch.

“Take them off, Joel,” you panted, barely getting words out.

“Say please. I want to hear you say it.”

“Pretty please…”

“Good girl.” His eyes grew darker as he lifted your hips and pulled down the silk shorts, sending them to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your lacy underwear.

His hands teased and touched your thighs, grazing his fingertips against your burning skin as he inched up higher and higher. His fingertips running as light as a feather on the edges of your underwear. So close yet so far from where you wanted them. You were soaked, his presence and touch enough to light a fuse inside you.

He looked down and his eyes were smouldering. “Look at you. Already so fucking wet for me,” he growled as he took his hand and lightly cupped your warmth. Barely grazing his fingers against you. You hissed as the contact sent electricity through you. You wanted more lightning, more sparks, more thunder as they weighed down on you.

“That’s what you do to me,” you choked out.

“Is that so?” He took one finger and hooked it under the waistband of the underwear, a second finger following as he hung there. Teasing at your skin, winding you up so you could unravel before him. He knew what he was doing as he smirked up at you, black pits staring into your soul.

You begged him with your eyes, grinding your hips against his hand so he’d give in. “Joel…” you begged as a whine came out of your mouth.

“Say it. I want to hear the words come out of that pretty mouth. Tell me what you want.” He moved his fingers down lower, not quite touching you yet. The touch of his rough fingertips were driving you wild though as you felt more slick start to form against the material, coating the base of your lace.

He noticed as he licked his lips hungrily. He looked like a wolf seeking its prey, wanting to devour you whole as his eyes were so black, so hungry for your flesh. You bit your lip as he stared at you, wanting nothing more than for him to sink his teeth into you.

You could barely talk, your voice coming out in between gasps. “Your fingers..I want your fingers.”

He took one more glance at your soaked underwear, hooking his fingers into the material as he pulled them off you in a flash, leaving you completely bare. Your legs were still spread wide, a sight for only him to ravish in. You could feel the wetness spread down your thighs as you were coated with slick. And it was all because of Joel.

He took a step back and took you all in as he dragged his dark eyes down the entire length of your body. You just sat there on the edge of the counter biting your lip, waiting for him to demolish you.

Joel brought his hand over to his mouth and raked it down to his chin as he held it there for a couple of seconds. His eyes were wide with lust as he scraped over every single inch of you, taking you in slowly.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he whispered bewitchingly. You gulped at what he just said, a yearning pulling on your insides as you felt your core burn hotter. Your heartstrings about to explode.

He started walking back to you slowly as if he was a beast that wanted to hunt you down and feast on your flesh. An impenetrable gaze hounding you as he stalked toward you, stopping between your legs. He pushed them open wider, his fingers burning your skin as he ghosted his thumb over the middle of you. He was so close, so dangerously close to that spot.

Then his thumb was covering your clit as he pushed down right at the most sensitive spot. “Fuck,” you gasped as all the nerves in your clit were electrified. Awakening a hunger you didn’t even know you had in you. Desire pulsing through you at a rapid pace.

A small, seductive laugh fell from his lips as he revelled in what he could do to you. What he could make you feel, crave. He got down on his knees and lifted one of your legs, slowly trailing kisses up to your inner thigh as your body went wild.

“How does it feel to see me on my knees before you? Worshipping your body..” He planted another kiss to your inner thigh, so close to your pulsating center.

You licked your lips as he kissed you again, going higher. “Amazing,” you breathed out, trying to grasp more oxygen into your body.

He trailed his nose up the rest of your thigh, taking in your musk. Marking his territory as he went. He lifted his lips off your skin and brushed over your center, gently blowing on you as he went over the entirety of you without making contact.

“Please…” you begged him as you shifted underneath him, trying to lift your hips up to reach him.

“Please what?” He was tantalizing you, making you beg for what you needed. One eyebrow was raised as he stared seductively up at you. Oh God.

Your clit was throbbing from waiting, vibrating from desire and lust. You needed Joel’s touch, his tongue, his everything. And you needed it now.

“Your tongue. I need your tongue.” you begged as you bucked your hips again.

His eyes were full on dilated now, the darkness consuming them as he pulled you down further, your hips hanging off the counter. He spread your legs and wrapped his arms around your thighs, coming in for the kill. “That’s all you had to say.”

He gave you one slow lick going all the way from the bottom of your opening and then sliding up through your folds, against your clit. “Oh fuck,” you whispered as he took your folds and spread them. Revealing your sopping wet, throbbing clit in its entirety.

He slowly started circling your bundle of nerves with his thumb, sending you into spasms as your legs began to shake. You threw your head back as you let a moan escape your mouth.

“Eyes on me,” he said in a low, provocative tone. You lifted your head shakily and looked down at him as he drew slow circles around your clit. “I want you to watch as I taste you…”

His words hit you like a wave as more slick ran down your thighs, coating your entire cunt. He was smirking as he saw you become more wet, more aroused. Then he was on you like a flash of lightning.

Joel’s long tongue ran up and down your swollen clit, making your back arch as the sensation was overwhelming. He flicked at your clit with his tongue and circled you as his tongue explored every single nerve ending in your body. You dug your nails into the edge of the counter, holding on for dear life as his tongue made your insides ache with need.

He stared up at you with intense dark eyes as he engulfed you in pleasure with his tongue. His eyes never leaving yours as you stared back at him with stars in your eyes. The moment was so intense, so erotic, so intimate. Two souls staring back at the other as they collided into one. Revelling in your collective ecstasy together.

He slowly slid two fingers inside your opening as you watched them become saturated in your slick. It was turning you on even more, a sight you wanted to burn into your memory. He slid his fingers in and out, going deeper, faster, making you moan as his palm brushed against your clit. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and he groaned in response.

His fingers curled up and hit you somewhere deep inside, setting off another overly sensitive area as your legs were now shaking around him. You were trying to squeeze your thighs shut as the sensation was too much, but he kept them open. Kept pumping his fingers in and out of you as the slick ran down his hand. Oh fuck, the sight was exhilarating. So goddamn hot.

The sensation was building so fast. You could feel your body wanting to explode, wanting to come so fucking bad. You were almost there. So close. “Joel, I feel like.. I’m close..I’m so close..” you gasped out as another low moan filled the room.

“That’s it, baby. Want you to come for me.” His fingers moved faster as he moved in and out of you, giving your clit another lick as he said, “You taste so fucking good, baby. Now be a good girl and come for me.”

He took your clit in his mouth and tugged, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until you had nothing left. And then you were gone. All your pent up, building arousal released as a wave of pleasure went through you as you tipped your head back and moaned Joel’s name as you spilled your pleasure all over him.

“That’s a good girl. You did so good for me,” you heard Joel say as he talked you through the orgasm. Lapping up the slick in between your legs and slowly releasing his fingers from your wet opening.

You were breathing so hard, seeing stars on top of the ceiling as you came down from your high. Your body trembling against his touch as it was now sensitive and throbbing. You were so tired, but you craved more of him. Needed more of him.

“Joel…” you panted out, your breaths coming in waves as you were winded from the intense orgasm.

He got up from his knees and pulled you forward from the supine position you were now in on the counter. Helping you sit up as he placed one hand around your arm and the other one wrapping around your lower back, bracing you. “What is it, baby?” he asked as he grazed his hand up and down your arm, making you want to fall into him.

“I need..I need..” you couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. Too fucked out from the orgasm that washed over your body seconds ago.

“Slow down, tell me what you need.” His chocolate eyes were lighter now, concern washing over them.

“Need you inside me..”

His eyes were wider now, chocolate eyes growing darker by the second. “What do you mean need me inside you?” His eyebrow was raised, his tone deep as his disheveled hair was all over the place. You loved it, loved when his hair was messed up like that. It made you want to run your fingers through it and get lost in it.

You looked down at his dark blue jeans and your eyes roamed over the huge bulge you saw through his pants. He watched you trace your eyes back up to his as you gulped at the sight of him. His eyes glared back at you, an understanding clear as day. “You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want?” he asked in a deep, sultry tone.

“Mhm,” you answered as you nodded your head.

“Think you can handle it right now? After I just made you come all over my hands, all in my mouth.” His fingers were digging into your thighs again, more slick building in between your legs as desire pulsed through you.

“I can handle it,” you whispered mischievously.

His eyes were those deep black pits again as his face filled with pure lust, a need burning inside him. “Such a fucking needy girl. Alright. Come here then,” he said as he pulled you off the counter and turned you around, bending you over as your hands grabbed onto the countertop.

You heard him unclasping his belt buckle as it sent a clanking noise throughout the kitchen. His zipper came unzipped next and then his pants were hitting the ground. You turned your head to observe the final product. Your eyes went wide and you swallowed a gasp down. What laid before you was a vision.

You gawked at him as you took in the size of him. He was big. So big. And he was long, thick as the bulging veins spread around his length. There was precum smeared across the tip of him, and you watched him spread it over his entire length with his hand.

You were growing wetter by just watching him palm himself. Drool pooling in your mouth as it tried to escape down, licking your lips to catch it before it fell down your chin. You were a deer stuck in the headlights with nowhere to go. You wanted to know what he felt like in your hands, what he tasted like.

“It’s not polite to stare, darlin’,” Joel said as he smirked down at you. You gazed up from his enlarged length and met his searing eyes, fire igniting in your own eyes. “Hands on the counter,” he instructed.

You quickly turned your head and put your hands on the edge of the counter, arching your back a little more to get into position. He took one of his legs and placed it in between yours, pulling your legs apart further as you gulped.

One of his hands slid between your legs, running his fingers over your folds as more slick started to pull down to your thighs. His fingers caught the edge of your clit before he dropped his hand from you, a moan escaping your mouth as heat filled your core.

“Jesus, baby. Already so wet for me.” He placed a hand around your waist as he stepped in closer. His hips colliding against you as he placed the tip against your folds. Moving it slowly up and down, gathering slick on his length.

“Mmm yes,” you breathed out, pushing your hips up to try to get leverage on him. He pushed against your folds, spreading you wider as he teased your opening, feeling his wetness mix with yours. Fuck. You were writhing against him, wanting him to cut to the chase and stop torturing you. Your anticipation building inside as it screamed, clawed you from the inside. Wanting to be free of its cage.

“Joel, please…” you begged, digging your nails into the countertop.

“Please what?” he leaned over your shoulder and whispered in your ear.

“Need you inside me..”

“You needy, needy girl. Hang on tight, darlin’. I’m about to take you on the ride of your life.” With that said, he slowly pushed his length inside you. Spreading you wide as his thickness pushed against your walls.

“Fuck..” you gasped. He was so thick, so big. It was almost too much, pain radiating down your walls as his size overwhelmed you. He started moving faster, pumping in and out of you as the pain quickly turned to pleasure. Your arousal at an all time high.

“You’re taking me so fucking good, baby. Feels so good inside you..” he groaned as he hit the back of your walls, digging his hands into your hips as he thrusted over and over again, building his speed.

He hit you right there. Your G spot spasming into overdrive as he thrusted his hips into you hard. “Fuck, Joel!” you screamed as the sensation was too much.

“That’s right, baby. Say my name,” he commanded.

“Joel…” you moaned as he thrusted even deeper into you, making you want to come undone around him. You felt the pressure building, you were getting close.

“Atta girl.” He suddenly pulled your hair, your head snapping up as your eyes met his. “Look at me. I want to see that pretty face when I make you come.”

His eyes were dark, his jaw flexed as he was taking you all in. The tension was so heavy as you both waded in each other’s stares. It was like no one else was in the world. It was just you two now, dancing in each other’s ecstasy as you burned together like an out of control wildfire.

His thrusts picked up. You could hear the loud, carrying sounds of your wetness colliding together as he snapped into you over and over again. The noise alone could make you come unglued as you lost yourself in him. You were so close now, so fucking close.

You bit your lip on a moan as he continued driving into you, getting high off the feel of himself inside you. “That’s it, baby. Want you to come now.”

He pressed his two fingers down on your clit, gently circling you as the pressure built all the way down to your spine. Fuck. You were about to convulse underneath him, his touch too much. Sending you into overdrive.

“Ahhhhh fuck,” you moaned as you tried to hold it in. Letting it build into a chaotic rupture.

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned.

He pressed down harder against your clit as he thrusted hard inside you, and that’s all you needed to send you over the edge. You were now rupturing like a dormant volcano that had just been awakened with arousal. You felt your walls clench up and then relax around his length, spilling out all over him as you cried out his name in a moan.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growled as you gazed up into his hungry eyes, your mouth gaping open into an O position. Your eyes rolled back as the orgasm washed over you, the feeling unlike anything you had experienced before today. Joel completely breaking your walls down with pleasure.

He continued pumping inside you, faster and faster until he was almost there. So close to coming undone. A few more thrusts and then he was spilling his seed inside you. Hot warmth hitting your walls as he moaned into your ear, becoming slack-jawed as he stared into your wide eyes. His hair a mess and his breathing heavy as his orgasm showered over him, sending him to cloud nine. You swear you never saw anything more beautiful in your life.

He gently pulled out of you as soreness took over. You felt raw, drained, exhausted as you were barely able to hold onto the counter anymore. You felt his seed spill out of you, covering your thighs as the sticky substance coated you.

“Goddamn, we made such a mess,” he said as he clicked his tongue, observing the mess between your legs as he knelt down. Pulling up his pants again as he buckled the leather belt back up.

“Mmm we did. A big mess..” you gasped out, trying to catch your breath as you were zapped of any energy, barely able to stand up straight as your legs ached.

“Did so good for me, baby. God you’re perfect,” he whispered against you. Something inside you pulled at you, making you respond to the words he just graced you with. He called you perfect. Something affectionate, something new. You liked the sound of that as you played it on repeat in your mind.

He slowly turned you around and leaned you up against the back of the counter, putting his muscular thighs in front of yours to support your wobbly legs. He unbuttoned his plaid shirt and threw it off, helping you into it as he pulled it through your arms and across your back, covering your bare skin.

It hung low on you, almost like a dress as he wrapped it around you. And it was warm, soft, a piece of Joel you could fully envelop yourself in. And it smelled like him. That deep mahogany, fresh scent that always clung to him. You could completely lose yourself in that essence. Wash yourself in it as the scent drowned over you, fully encapsulating you.

“There ya go. Now come here,” he said sweetly as he hugged you against his body, helping you over to the couch. He sunk against the velvety material of the grey couch as he pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you leaned your head against his chest.

He ran his hands softly up and down your arms, leaving gentle kisses against your forehead that felt like you were falling asleep on a soft cloud. You hummed into his chest as the feeling was so soothing, tender as he continued running his fingers against your hot skin. Bringing his hands up to your hair as he ran his fingers against your scalp, brushing them through your messy waves.

Aftercare. This is what this was. And he was so good at it. You wanted to stay like this all day. Get lost in him as much as you could before the moment disappeared. You never would’ve thought Joel could be like this. He was so different from the man you thought he was when you first met him. He wasn’t all hard lines and thorns like you thought. No. He was also full of soft, gentle lines, flowering blossoms that could take over an entire forest.

You took one of your hands and gently grazed it along his chest, feeling the cool material of his dark brown t-shirt that formed to his broad chest. This moment was tender, something special. And you wanted to keep it locked away in a locket so you could open it whenever you wanted and remember just how this rare moment felt. This exceptional moment.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered up to him, your eyes slowly moving up to look into that beautiful face of his.

His warm, chocolate eyes gazed down at you under dark eyelashes. One of his hands found yours on his chest as he tangled his fingers into yours, sliding his thumb across the top of your hand. It felt like a soft lull that echoed across the land, disappearing into that warm touch.

“That’s all you, baby. You’re the amazing one.” He took his hand and ran it under your chin. Shifting his fingers as he scratched gently against your skin as they moved to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin. You closed your eyes at the feeling as it sent you into a wave of calmness. Sinking into this delicate moment.

You laid there for a few more minutes, getting lost in each other’s touch. Vanishing under his serene, tranquil cloud. You felt him shift beneath you as you opened your eyes back up, cheek still tucked against his cotton shirt.

“Why don’t I take you upstairs and make you a warm bubble bath? Get you all cleaned up. How does that sound?” he asked with a husky breath as he sat up.

“A bath sounds incredible right now,” you answered as you felt the stickiness inside your legs cling together.

Joel sat you down on the couch as he stood up, reaching his arm out for you to take. You grabbed his hand as you tried to stand up, pushing off the couch. As soon as you stood you felt your legs wobble as you fell against his chest, strong arms catching you to steady yourself.

“Whoa there, slow down. Guess I did a number to your legs didn’t I?” he laughed as he braced your body against his.

“Guess you did.” A small laugh came out as you looked up into his honey eyes.

“Can’t say I’m sorry,” he said with a smirk on his mouth, staring down at you with danger in his eyes.

“You don’t have to be. I liked when you made my legs shake…” you whispered sensually. Your gaze lingering in his, a fire starting to burn low in your core. Making you want more of him.

His jaw flexed as his eyes turned a dark maple syrup color, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. After a few seconds of heated stares he pulled out of the flames, extinguishing the growing wildfire.

“Alright, enough of that. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have you thrown across this couch.”

You smirked up at him and bit your lip just thinking about it. “Maybe you should…” you said bravely, wanting to start that fire again.

He had a conflicted look on his face looking from you to the couch. His eyes right on the edge of turning into black pits, but he shook himself out of it.

“You needy girl. Think we need to get you cleaned up, let you rest those sore legs of yours.”

You huffed in response. He was right. Unfortunately. “I guess you’re right…”

Before you could finish your sentence he bent down and picked you up, carrying you bridal style over to the staircase and up the stairs as you squealed in surprise, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Come on, let’s get you in that tub.”

He carried you into the bathroom and flicked on the fluorescent lights, setting you on the edge of the bathtub as he started the hot water. You watched it slowly fill up as the steam rose up above the water, almost smelling its dewy mist. Joel poured some soap into the bath, mixing it up so big bath bubbles filled the water.

He dipped his hand in, testing the water’s temperature. When he was satisfied he came over to you and slowly pulled off his plaid shirt that was wrapped around you, leaving you bare as you held on to the edge of the tub.

“Come on, in you go,” he said as he scooped you up and gently placed you down in the hot water. The water was so warm as the top of the water lapped against your breasts, enveloping you in complete serenity as the bubbles waded above the water’s edge. “Feel alright?” he asked as he placed a clean washcloth across the edge of the tub.

“Mhm it’s perfect. So warm,” you murmured as you rested your head on the back of the tub, sinking in lower to the water.

Joel quietly laughed as a smile spread across his face. God he was beautiful when he was happy. His smile infectious as it made his dark eyes light up. “Good, I’m glad.”

As he took a step back you reached out your arm and wrapped your hand around his wrist. He looked down at the hand that was preventing him from moving and looked back up at you. “Join me?” you asked shyly, looking up at him from under your long eyelashes.

He looked at the bubbles in the tub and then back to you, weighing his options. Your hand was still on his wrist, trying to pull him towards you. He was setting his jaw, trying not to break. “Please..” you whispered under your breath, giving him your best innocent eyes as you batted your lashes up at him.

He groaned as he pushed back his salt and pepper hair. “Baby, if I get in that tub then I won’t leave the house today.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said quietly, giving him your best sultry look.

Joel sighed as he pulled out of your grip. “I promised Tommy I’d go meet him this morning.”

“Oh, I see.” You did your best not to sound disappointed, but you couldn’t hide it as it dripped off your tongue, leaving a tangy taste in your mouth.

“I really need to go. We have a lot to talk about. Him and I, well…we need to clear the air between each other. Said some things I shouldn’t have before we went our separate ways. I just need to go talk to him.” His eyes were serious, a little sadness showing through his brown eyes.

“I understand, Joel. You don’t have to explain yourself. Go talk to your brother. I have to learn how to share you. Can’t keep you all to myself,” you murmured, relaxing back into the warm water.

Joel knelt down next to the tub and grabbed your chin, turning your head to face him. His honey eyes staring back at you. “Hey, we have time. Just take it easy, relax. Believe me, there’s nothing more I’d like to do now than get in that bath with you. I need to go take care of this though. Okay?”

He was looking at you intently, eyes not leaving yours. “Okay,” you answered back quietly.

“That’s my girl. I’ll come back and get you after I talk to Tommy. You hungry? I can go get you something now.”

You shook your head. “I’m okay, but thanks. I can wait till later.” The truth was you were hungry. Hungry for something else that wasn’t food. Something that only he had. That you wanted to taste…

He interrupted your thoughts as he gave you one more long look, moving his thumb over your chin. “Okay. I need to head out then. Just try to soak in here for a little bit. Should help that soreness get all worked out. And be careful getting out. Don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”

“I’ll be careful, promise.”

“That’s my girl.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on your lips. A deep and longing one as you breathed in his fresh scent. That mahogany fragrance that you couldn’t get enough of. You held on for as long as you could until he broke the kiss, giving you one more caress to the cheek before he stood up and grabbed the plaid shirt that you wore minutes ago.

He laced his arms through the sleeves and carefully buttoned up the shirt, leaving the top button undone. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised as he made his way out of the bathroom, grabbing his tan jacket and throwing it on.

He took a few steps away from the bed and then stopped at the bathroom door, his hand clasping on the wall as he tapped his fingers against the wood. He stood there looking at you, watching you intently. Something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat. He took one more long glance at you and then disappeared from the room as silence took over the room he just left.

A few seconds later you heard him pounding down the stairs and then the door slammed shut. Leaving you in this big house, alone. You sighed as you sunk lower into the tub, your head relaxing back against the cool acrylic material.

You waded in the warm water, collecting more bubbles as they floated around the surface. Your legs still ached, but the warmth from the water was helping ease them. You took your hands and massaged your thighs, trying to relieve the tension you still held.

You still couldn’t believe what just happened this morning. How good it felt. How he felt. You bit your lip as you ran through the memories as they flooded your mind. You groaned, wishing he was still in here with you.

You focused on anything that would get your mind off him. You turned the hot water knob with your foot as steamy water made its way down into the tub, turning it off after about a minute as the bath water was just at the right temperature now.

As you relaxed in the water you noticed the house was quiet. Too quiet. You usually loved when it was quiet, when you could hear your own thoughts in your head. But this was different. This wasn’t how you usually were. Something had shifted, but you couldn’t quite put your tongue on what it was.

You were so used to Joel’s presence now, having been around him every single day for weeks on end that now it felt strange not having him here. He was just up the road, not like he was gone gone. But still, you didn’t like it. It didn’t seem right. There was an invisible string attached to you, and it was pulling at you now, telling you that you were too far apart.

You ached for him. It almost felt like your chest was on fire as you laid in the water. He hadn’t even been gone for ten minutes yet so what was your deal? Why were you yearning for him when he was just mere steps away from the house. What the fuck was wrong with you?

You closed your eyes and tried to relax. Tried everything to calm your racing mind, but it didn’t work. You stirred in the water, grabbing onto the sides of the tub with your hands and then putting them down into your lap, playing with your hands restlessly, but it was no use. Nothing was helping.

You sighed as you ran a hand over your face, wishing you could get that weird white noise sound out of your head. You huffed and then focused back on the water as the bubbles surrounded you. You popped one of the bubbles as you placed your head back in the water, trying to make your mind go numb as the restless feeling was driving you mad.

Thoughts went back to Joel as you thought about his honey eyes, his broad shoulders, his large veins that ran down his arms, his big, rough hands that drove you crazy. The way he could calm storms with just his hold, his gentle touch. The way that he said your name, that thick southern accent instantly calming you in any situation. The way he called you his. The way he started fires in your heart. The way you burned for him. The way you felt completely and utterly hopeless when he wasn’t around. The way…

You sat up from the water and froze, your eyes going wide at the realization that just hit you. You couldn’t believe you just now realized it. It was so painstakingly in front of you that you should’ve picked up on it already. Something that had been growing, building, advancing on you for some time. You gulped as it hit you all at once. Oh my God…

You were in love with Joel Miller.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS - Chapter 8

*Warning Adult Content*

- Dylan -

Although he'd promised himself he wouldn't let his guard down around Jayce, that promise had gone out the window as soon as Jayce's wood splitting accident happened.

It was a flood of emotions for him, guilt that someone had gotten hurt on his watch, sympathy for Jayce feeling like he was unwanted and a yearning on his part to reach out and connect with another person.

And then, embarrassment about Jayce noticing that he'd opened up a little.

On the rare occasions when he'd had the chance to talk with someone, he'd kept the conversation limited to small talk.

He was afraid to open up to people.

He didn't want to do or say the wrong thing and give them a reason to reject him.

People rejected him all the time for what was on the surface and he didn't think he could stand to also be rejected for who he was underneath his tough, intimidating exterior.

For the rest of the day, he was quiet, only speaking to Jayce if Jayce asked a question.

At night, he was hyper aware of Jayce's presence next to him in the bed.

It was still awkward but despite that, he liked having Jayce around.

He wanted Jayce to like being around him too but he didn't know how to be likeable.

Even though he was reluctant, he knew opening up to Jayce and talking with him more would probably be a good start.

Jayce had confided in him about his own insecurities and he had trusted Dylan with information about his family and relationships and his feelings about it all.

Jayce had trusted him with a lot, his safety, his health and his life. 

Now he needed to trust Jayce as well.

- Jayce -

When he woke up the next morning, Dylan was already awake and making oatmeal for both of them.

Before he could get out of bed, Dylan brought one of the bowls to him.

"I thought you said you weren't going to bring me breakfast in bed?"

"It's only happening today. You know, because of your hand."

He sat up, resting his back against the wall, and took the bowl from Dylan.

"Thanks."

Dylan retreated back to the other side of the cabin to stand near the stove and eat his own oatmeal.

He noticed that whenever Dylan did something nice for him, he became more standoffish immediately afterwards, often changing the subject or physically taking a step back.

He didn't know why but it made him want to know more about Dylan's life and how he ended up living like this.

"What are you doing today?" he asked.

"Probably splitting wood."

"Is there anything I can do to help? It's my fault you have to do it now after I failed so miserably on my first try."

Dylan shook his head.

"You should rest today. How's your hand?"

He held it up and flexed his fingers.

"Sore, but I'll live."

Once he'd finished his breakfast, Dylan came back over to the bed with some antibiotic ointment and took his hand.

Dylan unwrapped the bandage and carefully examined his skin before putting more ointment on the puncture wounds.

The side of his hand was a little swollen, but it looked okay otherwise.

After Dylan had bandaged it again, he went outside to start chopping up the logs.

Jayce stayed curled up on the bed and pretty soon the repetitive noise of the axe hitting the logs made him drift off to sleep.

When he woke up a couple hours later, Dylan was inside the cabin and had dragged the chair in front of the wood stove.

He was sitting in the light of the fire and Jayce noticed he was reading a book.

The book Dylan was holding looked tiny in his huge hands.

"Hey," Jayce said.

Dylan startled and closed the book.

"Sorry, you don't have to stop," Jayce insisted. "I just wanted to let you know I'm awake."

Dylan grunted and got up from the chair.

"What book are you reading?"

"It's about environmental disasters. Nuclear accidents, industrial pollution, oil spills. That kind of thing."

"Are you reading it because of your job or because you're interested in that stuff?"

"I'm interested in books about the environment and I like reading in general," Dylan replied, avoiding his gaze.

He came towards the bed and knelt down before pulling a wooden chest from underneath the bed.

Jayce hadn't bothered to look under there, so he'd had no idea Dylan had stuff underneath it.

Dylan opened the lid and set his book inside.

"What's in there?" Jayce asked. "Do you have something I can read?"

Dylan hesitated.

"I don't think so."

"You either do or don't."

Jayce peered over the side of the bed and caught sight of two more books.

He reached for them and Dylan grabbed his wrist.

The book on top was a romance.

It looked like a Western romance, with a rugged, handsome cowboy putting his arms around a gorgeous woman in a pretty dress.

"Are you embarrassed about reading romance?" Jayce asked, tugging his wrist free. "You shouldn't be."

Dylan's cheeks were red and he wouldn't look at Jayce.

"I wouldn't have guessed this would be your choice of reading material but you're full of surprises."

He tentatively reached for the book again and this time, Dylan didn't stop him.

He turned it over and scanned the back.

"Is it okay if I read it? I need something to do."

"It's a straight romance. I don't think that's your thing."

Jayce shrugged.

"Doesn't matter to me. Love is love. Besides, this cowboy on the front is seriously hot, so there'll be plenty in this book for me."

He glanced down at the book that was underneath it.

"Wait, is that Beauty and the Beast?"

"Yeah," Dylan mumbled. "It's one of my favorites. I can kinda relate, you know?"

Jayce laughed out loud.

"Are you saying you're the Beast? Since I'm trapped in your cabin, does that make me Beauty? Is that what we are?"

Dylan's cheeks turned even redder, if that was possible.

"Didn't say that."

"I think I'm a little too average looking to be beautiful but you know what, I'm going to take the compliment and run with it."

It seemed like Dylan was processing the comment and he must have decided Jayce wasn't making fun of him because he smiled.

It was a tiny smile but it was there.

"So you like to read," Jayce said. "What else do you like to do?"

Dylan looked up at him and then back down at the chest.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I don't know if I can promise that but if you're asking if I'm going to make fun of you or judge you, the answer is no."

"Fair enough."

Dylan moved a couple items around in the chest and then pulled out a large ball of yarn and some knitting needles with a long knitted rectangle attached.

"Wait, you knit? Seriously?"

It was the last hobby Jayce would have guessed and he almost thought Dylan was messing with him.

Dylan nodded, his cheeks turning red again.

"I know how to sew too. It makes things easier because I can repair my own clothes when I'm out here and learning how to knit gave me something to do in my spare time. It's kinda relaxing."

"What are you making?" Jayce asked, peering at the needles.

"A scarf. I'm still a beginner, so I can't make anything complicated yet."

Jayce reached out and touched the yarn.

It was a deep red color and softer than he was expecting. "

That feels nice."

Then he smiled.

"You're an interesting person, Dylan. Maybe if you had told me you like to read and knit in your spare time, I wouldn't have been so intimidated by you."

Dylan looked like he didn't know what to say to that.

He closed the chest and put it back under the bed and then took his knitting project back over to the chair.

Jayce couldn't help but smile as Dylan sat and started knitting.

Dylan could probably snap the knitting needles in half if he wanted to but he was surprisingly delicate in his movements.

It was mesmerizing to watch.

Dylan must have felt Jayce's eyes on him because he stopped and looked up, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Do you need something?"

"No," Jayce said, shaking his head and grinning. "I'm just watching. I think seeing a huge, murderous looking man knitting is hilarious. I love it."

Dylan's eyebrows furrowed briefly and Jayce couldn't tell if it was in anger or confusion.

It was hard to tell with Dylan.

"At least you have hobbies," he continued. "All I do is work out and watch TV. I don't really know what I like. I probably wouldn't have seemed as boring to all my boyfriends if I'd actually had a hobby."

"Well, we know splitting wood isn't going to be one of your future hobbies," Dylan said, in a mumble quiet enough that Jayce wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it.

"You made a joke. I think that's a first," he pointed out, still smiling. It made him happy that Dylan seemed to be opening up to him more and letting some of his personality show through.

He saw a hint of a smile on Dylan's face before Dylan returned his attention to knitting.

Then, he picked up the Western romance book and curled up on the bed with it, grateful to have something to do other than sleep or stare out the window.

A comfortable silence settled over the cabin as he read while Dylan knitted, the fire crackled and the snow fell. 

[tangiblejournal56]

8/6/11

Eight in the morning, at a bus stop, bored.  Highlight being that for the first time in four or five days I’m not doubled over crying, or completely debilitated by pain.  Worse than childbirth, this pain, like someone hammering a screwdriver through my ear into my sinus cavity, down to my swollen & throbbing mouth.  The source of this hideous torture being nothing more than a broken, infected molar.  I was, am still, completely aghast that one tooth had me racked in sobs, pain sharp enough to knock the wind out of me.  I was unable to eat or even sleep as the pain intensified when my head was lain down for any period of time.  An entire day was lost to sobbing, pacing my room, hiding from Jacob so he wouldn’t have to deal with the wreck I was, rinsing constantly with salt water, using various gum-numbing agents every few minutes.  I felt miserable, a pathetic sight to see.  Jacob playing Skip-Bo, Uno, threw dice with me in a bid to keep me distracted from my tooth, but it was futile.  He rolled a joint for us, & even marijuana - usually my fail-proof painkiller - didn’t ease it, actually inflamed it, I felt as though my gums were on fire.  All the waves of pain were making me nauseous, so while Jacob finished smoking I sat with my head hovering over the toilet.  He looked down at me sympathetically, “I’m really sorry you’re hurting so much, Jamie,” his voice like a small boy’s, helpless but sympathetic.  I smiled (as much as I was capable of) & apologized for his having to see me in such a pathetic state.  He shrugged, said he didn’t mind seeing me cry, “as long as you’re not all ‘Jacob make it better!’” he joked, making me laugh.  He was later cracking up over the gum-numbing orajel having totally deadened my mouth, lips & all, & my attempts to drink water.  He erupted when I went to spit a mouthful of water into the sink, & pathetically opened my mouth to let the liquid just fall out, making a sad little noise at how gross I am.  “I’m a monster!” I cried out pitifully, making Jacob laugh even harder.  When I wan’t crying I was a great amount of entertainment.  But the pain became more than I could bear.  I called into work & Jacob accompanied me downtown to a cheap, dingy-looking Presbyterian-run dental clinic, where the receptionist told me it would be about a thirty-minute wait to get an X-ray & examination.  So we sat, watching the colorful & comical patients slam in & out the frail door.  The half an hour she promised us bled slowly into three grueling hours, both of us bored, hungry, & sick of the not-so-funny-anymore stream of people, loud & obnoxious, rude, fighting with each other.  A really depressing bit of Americana, & I dreaded the idea that I may one day have to return.  Jacob eventually forced me to go up to the receptionist & complain about the delay (which means he walked up there with me & did all the complaining - as always I am incapable of being assertive, demanding or pushy when it comes to myself, only can I be that assertive for the benefit of others), & they finally called me into a room.  My overwhelming absolute terror of the dentist hit me & I regretted not making Jacob come back into the room with me to hold my hand.  The lady began the X-ray, & tears immediately rolled down my cheeks as she ever-so-gently placed the plastic apparatus around the inside of my mouth, pain-like jolts of white-hot fire shooting through me.  I felt small like a child, helpless & unable to find the person who is supposed to take care of me.  Alone, scared & miserable, stuck in a nightmare, I didn’t want to be there by myself.  The woman was warm & understanding, but still of little comfort.  She seemed surprised when on a scale of one to ten I told her my pain was a ten.  “Worse than childbirth,” I assured her.  Soon a man whom I assumed was the actual dentist came into the tiny room & showed me the X-ray of my tooth, the only one in my mouth that had grown in crooked, how it was cracked & looked as though it were coming in sideways rather than up & down.  In friendly but blunt terms, he assured me that the course of action was to “get that tooth out of there,” to numb & remove the offending Molar No. 15.  Whenever I was able to, schedule myself in for that, but for now he would prescribe me an antibiotic & a painkiller, so that I may function like a human until the removal.  I knew it would be awhile until I could afford the pull (Jacob was even covering this examination & my prescriptions until my paycheck arrived) but I was ecstatic that I wouldn’t have to feel the horrific pain for much longer.

Jacob & I left, my spirits now soaring.  We traipsed around the sidewalks of downtown for a bit, then he wanted to get some Freebirds burritos, his treat.  It was an act that reminded me of when my siblings & I were young & had to go to the doctor out of illness or injury, how my mother would stop along the way home for a treat of ice cream or lunch, & if it was a particularly painful visit, there would be a stop for coloring books (or in my case, reading books).  The warmth in that kindness, how no trip to the doctor seemed that scary when we knew what lay in store after the fact.  Such a good mother, one who feels her children’s suffering as her own, & would absolve it into herself if she could.  How lucky we were, are, that despite our reprehensible, drug-addled, abusive birth father, our mother is “Best Case Scenario mom,” exactly what we all needed.  No one could’ve performed better, nor loved us more or more selflessly.

Riding around with Jacob on the #10 bus, I was nervous, twitchy, unable to calm myself.  Ryan rides this bus line, we were in his part of town, & I could feel him like a pulsating shift in the atmosphere.  It may sound exaggerated, but that’s how it was between us, we could sense each other like a radar.  I could feel him around me, but I could never see him.  Jacob & I took a different bus home, & I was relieved.

Once home, having taken my new large white pills heavenly in their relief, I was joyous, excited, energetic.  He & I swam, I cleaned my room & bathroom, as Racha & Thom were arriving the next day (technically today, their plane lands in an hour), & at eleven I fell into a blessedly peaceful sleep.  I awoke only once, at 5am, the throbbing returning but timidly, & I squashed that with another painkiller & went back to sleep.

I wonder what the next few days will be like with Thom & Racha here.  Will Thom be surprised at how close Jacob & I have become?  He didn’t think Jacob & I would make good roommates, but as of yet we’ve had no real problems.  Aside from when I’m at work, we spend all of our time together, sometimes with Josh but mostly on our own, keeping occupied with movies , games, swimming.  A sort of comfortability.  Yesterday as I cleaned my room I was playing Charlie Parker’s “Bird” with the door open while he played a video game on his phone, cozy as can be.  It’s funny, a year ago I would never have been able to imagine he & I would experience that kind of domestic coziness, so at ease it’s almost innocent.  Revealing to each other what we are individually like in our private life, living together makes concealing anything near impossible.  If he wanted to, Jacob could go right now into my room & open my journals or sketchbooks & see his portrait displayed a hundred times in words or drawings.  The older diaries, how infatuated & obsessed I was with him for years, or worse, the latest two in which I describe several times our disappointing attempts at sex, how unfulfilled they left me.  I would be mortified & ashamed were he to read those.  On the other hand, for him to enter my room & read guiltlessly what he knows to be private, then perhaps he should deserve to see unflattering images of himself, & thus I should not feel so bad.  And I would, even then.  My diaries a toxic element needing to be contained, handled only by those who know how to control it, those who understand its harmful properties.  So far that is an entirely lonely endeavor, just myself at the helm.  Max perhaps one day could obtain limitless access, but I’m pacing myself & him by selecting only certain articles & sections for his consumption.  Wanting always for him to see me a certain way.  These can be so exhausting, ever the constant curator & keeper of this zoo of exotic creatures, the surrounding gates eye-catching & seductive, but I cannot allow anyone access & I cannot leave.  To forgo the journal for a completely external life is unthinkable, an attempt to breathe underwater.  To whom else would I tell the undiluted truth, ugly & without affectations?  Certainly not those around me, friends, family.  How else could I pour out all of the tumultuous anguish I so often wrap myself up in?  I have a great need for the diary, yes.  My oldest, most loyal friend whom never glosses over the past with lies of a prettier picture.  My confessor, I’d never admit aloud what I can so silently own up to within these pages, & I would deny it all until the day I die.  I admit I am a bit like Anais Nin with her lies & storytelling to her world - but in here I am honest, & in the exterior world I do not commit such acts of cruelty toward those I claim to love, I do not create lies & pageantry to cover up these insidious acts I am not committing.  How the heroes of our youth fall so rapidly as you age & discover more & more about them, how their actions become clearer.  Her big hypocrisy that she refuses to address, her name-dropping, her pathological obsession with attention & devotion, her inability to accept any criticism, her overbearing pretentiousness & theatricality that never once seems genuine.  Taking on lovers out of no other course but to be able to write “I am a Donna Juana.”  Discovering how the diaries are nothing much more than fabricated stories, altered events, or flat-out lies.  I am aware that this is an accepted art form now, that most memoirs are rich with added detail made up entirely in the author’s mind.  But despite my own storytelling to my external world, I find it pathetic to lie in your journal, it seems like lying to yourself, breaking my absolute number one rule.  When I see how easily my biological father, Chelsea, Jess, even Cody at times can tell these lies & believe in them entirely, it terrifies me, shakes me, knowing that I could be capable of that.  Bending time & events to suit whatever need, disregarding reality like a worn bathrobe on a hook.  I believe in creating my own world, but I vigilantly, fervently keep one foot firmly in the outer world, in reality, at all times.  I am always scared of losing my grasp on this reality & heading feet first willfully into oblivion.  And then I would be lost.  It may not seem so terrible, like falling asleep in a blizzard, so easy & comforting, a trapdoor escape if needed.  But I’ve let myself be pulled into that self & it bears no resemblance to that snowbank.  In that reality I am easily capable of committing cruel acts & lacking any compassion.  I cannot stop myself, it is like watching someone else do these things & though I am aware of all of it, I cannot ebb the tide of it.  So I sink & sink further under, drowning in self-loathing & isolation & this thick dark fog.  I never want to be that girl again.  This is why I am always honest in here.  So I need not worry if any of it really happened that way or if I am embellishing.  I want to remember it all.

Max, for instance.  If one day we are beyond each other’s reach I want to have that history to go back over like watching a rerun again & again.  I want to be able to remember every detail of this astonishing boy who could always shake the world for me.  How capable he is of so much pain.  How a boy like that could like a girl like me, that I must be worth something if I can mean something to him.  He is ever so constantly on my mind whenever I let it drift for even a moment.  At the dentist, on the bus, walking down the street.  A great way to occupy my time.  I envision him, his face or his hands, his voice, just an image or entire memories.  I end up smiling, looking every bit the crazy girl I fear becoming.  I am, as always, indisputably, entirely, in love with that being, that mass of liquid & matter & bones & skin.  Whether or not he will ever feel the same is not now my concern.  Happy I am just loving him, knowing him, existing in his world.  How he knocks out any other men in my world & he doesn’t even try.  He is just effortlessly capable of anything.  I cannot write any more cheesy prose on the subject as I will only repeat myself & cause nausea, but he colonizes my thoughts.  I do not need him to love me back, not now anyway.  For now it is enough simply to love him, & I know that I am very important to him, despite forces like his family, his friends trying to cure him of me.  I worry, so many people telling him I’m bad, that they see something I don’t.  Something inborn I can’t shed.  But I’m not the girl they tell him I am, I haven’t been that girl in years, & even then they had no idea who I was, just as they don’t know the me now.  Max knows me, yes.  But his view of me is biased, compromised.  He has the best judgment of anyone I know, except when it comes to me.  Why do I affect him like that?  What is the basis of this hold I have on him?  Certainly not out of a blind love, like I had with Ryan.  His fascination with me, he thinks I’m wise & yet naive, he believes I understand all of those things that no one else gets, that I am smart & perceptive.  I believe I am something of a mystery to him, he is interested in my struggle with the world.  I am slowly allowing him to pull down the veils & walls of that mystery, by letting him into the journal.  For me it is like peeling off parts of my flesh, offering him organs & arteries like a sacrificial lamb.  This I have never done for anyone, those parts of me have always just been ripped from me, by Ryan, by Bryan, Olivia, even Annie.  No one has ever just waited patiently for me to offer them up as Max has, over years & years of allowing me my secrets, my concealment.  This means more to me than he could know, & I want to give him this reward, this thanks.  I am not sure how he really felt upon finally reading some portions, his ever-stoic poker face, never revealing a single thought.  He told me I wrote so honestly, that I was good at making one feel empathetic to my pain.  Whether or not he was disappointed, after years of building up that suspense, I don’t know.  If he found my subjects trite or irrelevant, when he imagined a different world.  Always my fear, he will find me entirely irrelevant, & then my opinions of him & his writing will mean nothing.  Then he will have no use for me.  My longing to mean something great to him.  To be important in his life.  I am terrified of pedestals but I sometimes want to know what it would feel like to stand upon one for him.  But I would never want to be that unreachable, that idealized image that you can never touch.  I’d rather be human, with my flawed flesh, real to him & his whenever he wants or needs me.

I am desperate for his company, I need to hear his sarcastic tone like communion, I need to see those beautiful, graceful hands punctuating his words, dancing through air more rapturous than any magician.  The space between now & when I will next be near him seems infinite, a barrier uncrossable.  The line that recedes the nearer you think you come to it.  This is not my first experience with a longing like this, not so long ago I wrote of how I didn’t know that I could survive without Ryan, how it felt like dying, like living in an airless chamber.  How dramatic I knew it was, but how genuine it felt.  How I never wanted to be addicted to anyone like that again.  With Max it is quite different (as everything with him tends to be), it is not obsession, it is not of the same urgency.  It is the difference between a mental addiction & the physical pull I felt with Ryan.  With him I felt like I might actually dissipate into air, cease to exist without him, crumble into a sort of non-existence.  The absence of a certain self, the idealistic in me, the death of the soul.  With Max coming along like the great white hope, he seemed to illuminate everything again.  He reawakened the maternal in me I’d thought Ryan had exhausted every bit of, he breathed life into me again.  I reexamined my life, saw that I was drowning like Max was, & we became each other’s life boats, holding each other’s head above water.  I was not alone anymore, I had an equal, someone to whom art & being an artist was important.  Books & music & a certain quality of life.  Words were important again, I no longer lived purely by impulse, & he made me see that everything with Ryan was not all my fault, as Ryan would leave me to believe.  Max refuses to allow me to consume myself, make myself the absolver of all guilt & blame.  For that I am grateful, he keeps me from destroying myself because he sees a worth in me that I don’t.  I spoke to him recently about if Ryan wanted me back, & how I see now that the problems he had then are problems he will have his whole life because he relishes the role of the victim too much.  I told Max the idea of returning to that depressed me so much, that “I don’t want that to be all I’m worth, you know?”  My words so imprecise.  But as always Max understood without elaboration.  “I get it.  But remember that just because he hasn’t grown doesn’t mean you haven’t.”  His wisdom.  Finding a way to put it into perspective.

A mental addiction.  Just as our relationship is built so heavily in our cerebral connection, sort of a mental affair, that is where I miss him the most.  Talking to him, the surprise of a random comment I don’t see coming keeping me off my guard, my grand addiction for everything about him.  I miss him physically, yes, those times we were able to make love like nothing else existed.  The pure pleasure of taking in his body, accomplishing some mundane task with a gracefulness & ease I’ve never seen in another.  The way he opens a bottle of wine or chops up vegetables, that precision like performing a symphony, every motion with a practiced, effective ease.  Art in movement, he doesn’t even realize how the air seems to shift around him like an aura, he seems unreal, untouchable.  When he does touch me I expect actual sparks.  He seems so mythical & yet I never lose sight that he is so very real, & strives so determinedly to understand how real people feel & why.

The difference in these worlds of longing with Ryan & with Max, I’m realizing, is experience.  I’ve lost Max before.  I survived then.  What we have now, I know, though not as innocent, pure or unsullied, is richer than I could’ve hoped, more honest & constructive, deeper, feelings more genuine, infinitely better than what we had then.  But should this friendship consume itself I would remind myself that I can survive, I’ve done it, it’s possible.  With Ryan I was caught completely off guard.  I’d never experienced anything like him before, like that relationship.  I can’t truly believe that many have.  From the first moment our paths became entwined there was that connection, that pull like siamese twins, two interlocking shapes that created an image I’d never imagined I’d fit into.  The unexpected element, realizing you were waiting for this all along without knowing you were missing anything the entire time.  To lose that is terrifying.  You don’t remember who you were before, or how you got along then, as if someone had switched off any available light & left you to fumble blindly in the dark.  Frightening, debilitating, like starting at square one again.  I am not exaggerating that it nearly killed me.  Were it not for Max hitting those light switches, I may not be here.

This is what Max means to me.

[castiel-barnes]

Dads got you kid.

Pairing: Y/n Antilles × Poe Dameron.

Summary: Being Wedge Antilles child, he taught you everything you knew about how to survive in the galaxy. Apart from flying home almost half dead.

Warnings: Mentions of blood. Mentions of explosions. Some swearing. Mentions of nightmares. Mention of panic attack

Wordcount: 1.05K

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell

Poe has been waiting patiently for you to come home. It almost never changed, the anticipation to see you again. But the last few hours there has been little to no contact from you. That was certainly unusual, but he didn't put radio silence past you to avoid detection.

Spending the next 30 minutes fixing a circuit on his X-Wing, Poe then heard your X-Wing land on the air strip. He smiled and saw the cockpit open, yet he noticed you didn't get out. A worried trill came from your droid, speaking of your injuries.

"SNAP! HELP ME!" Poe shouted dropping his tool and started running towards you,

Climbing up the ladder, you were barely responsive. Together Poe and Snap carefully lifted you out of the cockpit and down to the ground.

"Darling. Shit. Hey come on sweetheart wake up for me." Poe stated trying to wake you up. You came to slightly and smiled up at him a little bit delirious,

"Hey Poe.." was all that you said before passing out. His heart dropped.

"Beebs inform medical we're on the way. Also inform the General and Captain Antilles. We need to go now." Poe stated picking you up carefully. Snap led the way to medical running down the hallways shouting for people to move out of the way.

Fellow resistance members stood flat against the walls, as Snap ran and Poe followed suit with you in his arms blood slowly making a mark on Poe's clothes.

Wedge and Leia arrived just before Snap and Poe, trying to figure out what was going on.

"What happened?" Leia stated,

"I-i don't know. They just got back from the mission a-and I don't know." Poe stuttered as he laid you down on the medical bed. Wedge went with you, whilst Poe stood in shock. Covered in your blood.

Poe doesn't remember what happened after medical took you in. But after you went to be treated, Poe collapsed the sudden shock of your injuries making him shut down on himself. Snap caught him before he hit the floor, and both Leia and Snap carefully bought him out of this panic attack.

"Snap. Take Poe back to his room and help him get cleaned up. And BB-8 go to the Comms room and ask if there was any disturbance on Corellia." Leia spoke with a strong voice which still held worry.

You were in surgery which seemed to go on for hours. A few blood transfusions and a copious amount of bacta gel later, you were finally looking better than you did when you came in. Your father sat next to your bed, stroking your hair back softly. Snap helped Poe change into something clean, he was in a daze not believing how much blood he saw on you and in your cockpit.

Wedge sat with you quietly, not wanting you to wake up alone. The doors to the medical bay opened, and Leia walked in sitting down next to Wedge.

"We found footage of what happened. All Y/N was doing was walking down a street, when someone walked by with cargo and the metal boxes holding the cargo blew up. They were near by, but compared to others Y/N was lucky." Leia explained placing a hand on Wedges back. He didn't respond just nodded and kept his eyes on you.

Poe didn't sleep. Wedge didn't sleep. It wasn't until many hours later, that you eventually came too. Not fully, but enough to realise that you were back on base.

You felt your dad's hand holdings your softly, and you leant your head to side.

"Dad." Was all that you could muster,

"Hey, how you feeling?" Wedge asked quietly, not to startle you with loud noise.

"Everything hurts, especially my side." You responded, trying to move slightly you whimpered and tears sprung to your eyes.

"Don't move sweetheart, don't move." Wedge spoke holding you softly "Dad's got you kid, it's alright." Wedge reassured you letting you calm down.

"Go back to sleep okay? I'll be here, and so will Poe." Wedge spoke watching as you fell back into a fitful sleep.

Wedge sent a message to Poe, that you had woken up for a brief few minutes but then went to sleep. And that if Poe was feeling up to it, to come and sit with you. It wasn't long until Poe walked through the doors, Wedge saw how tired he was and then realised he probably looked the same.

"It's okay Poe. Y/Ns going to be okay." Wedge spoke,

"I know." Was all that Poe replied. He sat next to you for almost 20 minutes before falling asleep upright in the chair. Wedge found a blanket and placed it over Poe, then exited quietly to leave you both in each others company.

Wedge started walking to his living quarters, when Leia caught him in one of the corridors.

"Poe's with Y/N. Was thinking of trying to get some sleep." Wedge spoke, now realising how tired his own body was.

"Y/Ns going to be okay Wedge. I'll make sure you get a message if they wake. If you need someone to talk though, my doors always open." Leia stated pulling Wedge into a hug.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

About 7 hours had gone by, and you finally woke up a bit more aware this time. And felt a heavy head laying on top of your hand. Looking to your right, you found a brown curly hair head who could only belong to one person laying there.

"Poe." You whispered trying to wake him. Nothing.

"Poe, wake up." You tried again, now realising that your hand was numb but that was the least if your worries. Poe jerked up, somewhat bewildered.

"Hey honey. How are you feeling?" Poe asked, his voice gravel like from sleep.

"Better than I was. Body aches a lot. Just glad I'm here with you." You replied, nothing of the explosive coming to mind or how you even got there,

"Just don't do it again please." Poe begged "I was so fucking scared darling." Poe exclaimed a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I won't Poe I promise. I'm okay though." You responded.

Poe talked about how he found you, and the worry him and your dad went through. But made sure that you felt okay and that you were going to heal in no time. He knew you hated being on bed rest doing nothing.

[zoeykallus]

Rex - In Love And War 8 - Guilt And Forgiveness

Rex x Fem!Reader (FF)

Warnings: Angst/Hurt/Fluff/Slightly Suggestive

__________________

You are right to be angry with Rex, he messed up and he knows it. You are still in love with the idiot, it is very likely that you forgive him, but not without letting him repent a little.

__________________

What Happened Before:

In Love And War

Part 2 -Noises In The Dark

Part 3 - Sinful Dreams

Part 4 - Mesh'la

Part 5 - Old Friends

Part 6 - Unspoken Things

Part 7 - Lies And Other Things About Love

Part 8 - Guilt And Forgiveness

Rex looked at you, an embarrassed little smile on his lips, his head slightly lowered. He knew he screwed up. Your gaze was cool, but beneath the surface you were seething. You were angry. Rightfully so.

"Who do you think you are?"

Rex raised his eyebrows in shock and surprise at your quiet but harsh tone.

"What do you mean-"

You interrupted him angrily, "First you leave me hanging like you almost think it's disgusting that you've been dreaming about me, then you're even approached about whether it would be okay if someone else went out with me. You idiot lie and say it's okay even though you supposedly feel differently. Then you sabotage my date and even drive him away, not only my date but also a friend. Then add to that the way you sabotaged the date, you barged into the date because you can't stand him kissing me, you even stalked us. You tell a lie that puts us on absolute alert, I was thinking all the time, we are in mortal danger, our life here is over. Are you out of your mind?!"

Rex swallowed and said, "I understand you're angry."

"Angry" you snap snarling "Angry doesn't even begin to capture my sensibilities right now. I want to cry, I want to slap you silly, I want to run out into the woods and scream my rage out at the top of my lungs with all my strength. Right now I wish I was still your superior, at least then I could punish you appropriately."

Rex blinked and lowered his head even lower.

"You don't mean that," he said softly.

"Yes, right now, at this moment, I do mean what I say," you said in a strained voice.

You felt it burning behind your eyes and you hated yourself for not being able to stop it as a few tears rolled down your face. Rex lifted his eyes and looked at you, clear regret and concern on his face.

"Mesh'la, I'm so sorry."

He stepped towards you, but you flinched away from him.

Rex stopped and looked at you pleadingly.

"Please forgive me. Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me. I didn't know what to do, I was overwhelmed with my feelings and the situation. I made very stupid, very wrong decisions. I regret it deeply. Hurting you was never my intention, quite the opposite."

You looked at him coolly, vigorously wiped the tears from your face and said, "I would say you failed."

Rex lowered his eyes.

"I know," his words sounded heavy and downhearted "Please forgive me."

With a sigh you said, "I don't know if I can. I will need some time to think"

He nodded and said, "I'll retreat for a few hours, then you can have your rest. I'll come back later, maybe you'll be ready to talk to me then."

"Maybe."

Rex expression was full of pain as he turned away and left the cabin, pulling the door quietly into the lock behind him.

You felt bad. Of course you still liked Rex, were attracted to him, and part of you was sorry that he felt so guilty, but you were also angry. Basically, you knew that sooner or later you would forgive him. He had been gone for a few hours and in fact you already missed him.

"Stupid idiot," you muttered to yourself.

The next moment there was a knock at the door. The door of the cabin slowly opened and Rex stuck his blond head through the crack in the door.

"Can I come in?"

You pulled the wool blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders tighter and said, "Yes, come in."

Rex seemed a little relieved that you hadn't said no. Outside it had become very cold in the meantime. He stepped right up to the open fireplace and built a fire. Neither of you said a word as he did so, even as he sat down in the only chair across from you and the sofa.

The silence was heavy in the room, you could feel it, the tension that was in the air. Then you remembered something and had to grin.

Rex raised his brows questioningly, smiling cautiously.

"Your mood seems to have improved," he noted.

You nodded.

"I've thought of what you can do to make me forgive you."

His face brightened.

"Really? Please tell me!"

You laughed softly.

"You won't like it"

He frowned but said, "Shoot."

"Your dream" you said meaningfully "I want to know everything, all the details. The dream in which you dreamt naughty things about me. And I don't want to hear any excuses or anything. I want all the details directly. If you can do that, then I can forgive you."

Rex's ears grew hot.

"All the details?" he inquired uncertainly, swallowing.

You nodded.

"All the details," you repeated.

Rex pulled his collar down as if it had become too tight for him and muttered, "Oh dear."

@ttzamara

@chxpsi

@andyoufollowyourheart

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@brynhildrmimi

@nunanuggets

@clone-whore-99

@misogirl828

@tech-deck @rexandechosandwich

@flyingkangaroo

@stardusthuntress

@ladykatakuri

@graciexmarvel

[shigarakis-cumdump]

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra. 

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier!  Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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[mieohmy]

𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝟣𝟢𝟣 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗇𝗈

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, humor, comfort, established relationship au, college au,  this rly is just a self indulgent fic kjasdfk

WC: 2.1k

NOTES: slight argument/fighting ?? , cursing

SUMMARY: jeno wants your attention, your comforting presence, your love- he simply wants you.

for the bday boy that i treasure sm! happy birthday to puppy jeno <333

ღ

The phone next to you lies untouched, and practically has been for days- or has it been a week already? I mean, it wasn’t your fault that upcoming finals had been taking you to the depths of hell, and you had no choice but to lock yourself at home to study for a week on end. 

Which brings you to day 7? 8? of being holed up in your room all day, memorizing a bazillion tiny printed words and trying to cram as much information as possible in that overworked brain of yours. Getting about 4-5 hours of sleep a day, you couldn’t remember anymore- or even care to remember. Not to mention the added stress that came along with being any normal college student. Wasn’t life just wonderful?

You feel bad for everyone that has tried to contact you over this stressful period in your life (since you completely turned your phone off to eliminate all distractions), but the urge to stop studying completely and just check up on the real world and all its happenings grows stronger. You breathe in -out, constantly chanting ‘self-control’ over and over again in your head. Then your eyes slowly open, and you slap yourself one last time as if to say ‘get it together' before diving back into the books.

Just two more days. Two more days and you can finish and not have to stress about finals until results come out. 

At this point, you were surviving off of coffee, tea, random stolen snacks that your boyfriend would bring over from his dorm. 

Damn, when’s the last time you had a proper meal? Monday?

And then you frown. What day even is it today? You glance at your calendar and- 

Goodness grief, it’s Sunday already. 

You almost have a midlife crisis over wasting basically a week doing nothing but sitting at your desk and looking at words, but then again at this point- you’re just over it and want to be done as soon as possible. 

But soon, a weird feeling arises after you recall today’s date- like you were forgetting something. You place a hand over your forehead. Was there something important today? 

And as if the universe read your mind, the doorbell rings.

A giant wave of confusion washes over you. Was someone supposed to come over today?

-and you just completely wiped it from your mind?

You’re still running through your memories as you walk to the door. No, it's not Chae since she has finals too...

Opening it, you’re not at all expecting who was behind it. 

“Jeno-?”

He blinks back at your wide eyes, expression turning concerned, and you rub your temples in exasperation and defeat. 

“Oh, did we have a date today or something? I’m so sorry- I totally forgot.”

His eyebrows furrow. “No, I was just supposed to come over to hang out with you....”

“It’s been so long since we last talked, baby. You haven’t responded to any of my texts. What’s going on?” He promptly adds, staring intently at you. 

You let out a sigh, and jeno notices your tense shoulders and dark under-eye circles. “I thought you knew. Finals are coming up so I’ve been stuck at home cramming for about a week now actually.” 

His frown deepens. “I did know. And still, y/n..” he says in a warning tone. 

You know what his voice implies, you’ve heard it plenty of times at this point, but right now you don’t have to energy to listen to his nagging. “ I know, I know. Just- come in, I guess.....”

To be completely honest, you wanted to send jeno back home- there was still a lot more information left to cover and you obviously weren’t in your best condition, but he was the one who actually remembered your ‘date’ and drove to your place, so you would feel even worse making him go all the way back to his dorm. 

Jeno easily follows you in, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back any comments while examining your place even though barely anything has changed since he last visited- mostly because there was nothing to change when you were in your room all day. 

You walk to the kitchen, getting your boyfriend some water while yawning. Meanwhile, your mind is drifting away, thinking about what topics are left that you have to go over later. “What are we even doing today?” 

Jeno plops on your couch, arms behind his head. “I don’t know. A movie?”

You hide your grimace, immediately thinking of how much time would be wasted watching one, or possibly even more if jeno was feeling it. In the one to two hours of a movie, you could be done with chapter two and three-

“Y/n??”

Your head snaps up. “Yes?”

“Are you gonna come over here or just stand there in the kitchen all day?” he teases.

You shake your head to clear the fog and join jeno on the couch. Scrolling through the options, you automatically snuggle up next to him, eyes blearily watching the moving tv screen. 

He decides on this one animated film, and you’re too drained to pay attention so you simply nod and let the movie begin. But even though you try your best to focus on the storyline and what’s currently going on, your mind keeps wandering off to other, more boring things- your studies, obviously. 

The number of chapters you covered, the slight of chapters you have left, how long you would have to stay up to finish going through your planned amount of information  -all the stressful thoughts swirling in your head, and it only exhausts you more. 

You let out a sigh, and jeno turns to you. “Are you okay? You’ve been sighing nonstop since we started the movie.” 

You clear your throat, biting back a yawn. “Oh- yeah, sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

Your boyfriend stiffens but doesn’t say anything, attention returning to the flashing screen in front of him. 

You did try. You really did. But your eyelids keep drifting shut and your head keeps slowly lolling forward and snapping back up -it’s not until your forehead accidentally knocks against jeno’s chest that he finally speaks up again. 

“Y/n. You need to take a break and get some sleep. Now.” His tone is sharp and commanding. 

You snap your eyes back open, vision blurry. “No- it’s fine. I’m good, let’s keep watching.” 

The immediate switch in the air is scary, jeno swiftly reaching for the remote and pausing the movie to look at you dead straight in the eyes before setting it back down with a loud, clattering noise. “You need to rest. I can tell from how tired you look, and I know you’ve been studying for so long, so why is it that hard to just relax for a little?” 

You groan, distress breaking through. “I can’t, okay? You already understand how stressful school is and how important my upcoming tests are. I know you’re just trying to be kind and thoughtful but-“ 

“But what?” He cuts you off, the frustration he’s been hiding for a while finally revealing itself. “Taking a rest from burning your brain out isn’t going to kill you, y/n.”

Your hands at your side clench and unclench, a wave of emotions overcoming you. “I know that. But I can’t afford to have a break now.” Everything suddenly feels overwhelming, and your voice comes out strained and uncontrolled. 

“I’m almost there, jeno. It’s so close, and if I stop now, I’ll feel like a failure.”

He laughs a short and echoing bark. “How do you think I feel? I was trying to brush everything aside and act like it was all fine, but it’s certainly not when you’re like this.”

You falter. 

Jeno gets up, making direct eye contact with you even though his body is trembling and his voice is shaky. 

“I spent the past week just lying in bed and worrying about you- if you were eating okay and getting enough sleep. I was constantly texting you reminders to take care of yourself, only to find out from your friend that you turned your phone completely off.  Do you know how shitty of a person I was feeling? I didn’t want to be a distraction to you because I know how much you care about your grades, but it’s killing me, y/n. I want to be there for you, but instead, I end up feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world.” 

He shudders before continuing,

“And then I come here, brushing off all my worries since I was super excited to finally be with you after so long, and then I have to see you in such a bad condition. Barely taking care of yourself, barely even surviving on your own just so you can pass your exams that I know you’ll already do well on no matter what. As your boyfriend who wants to help and be here for you, do you know how much my heart hurts?”  

He finishes, but not before wiping away the frustrated tears that appeared in his angry rant.

It takes one beat -two beats, before you immediately spring up, rushing towards jeno and throwing your arms around him. 

He accepts it, burying his face into your shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. 

The guilt courses through your body, and you understand. The consequences of your actions hit you, hard, and you know you deserve it all. Jeno just wants to know that you’re here. You’re here with him.

“I’m really sorry,” you murmur into his hair, “I’m really, really sorry, jeno.” 

You hate the fact that you can still feel the slight wetness of his tears soaking through your-technically his- shirt. You pull back, looking straight into his eyes to make sure he knows you’re being genuine.

“I promise to pay more attention to myself, and I promise I won’t ever let it happen again. I won’t shut you out anymore... and you can come over to take care of me whenever you want, okay?”

Jeno slowly nods, and you softly wipe away the corners of his red eyes of any wetness.

He pulls you closer to him again, inhaling your scent one more time, and you finally let yourself go. 

After about a minute of just enjoying each other’s warm embrace - one that you feel like you haven’t felt in so long- you allow yourself to smile and pull back just enough to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Was my baby just lonely and missed me too much?” you sing in a soft voice. He lets out a disgruntled noise in response, shaking his head against your body. 

But you both know what the answer is.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed.” You tug his arm easily to your room, putting off your studies, at least for today.

“You’re really gonna take a break this time?” Jeno asks, eyeing you carefully. 

You grin. “Yes? Besides, I know you’re always down for cuddles.” 

You drag him to the bed, taking his arms and wrapping them around your body as exhaustion quickly fills you. 

You fight yourself to stay awake as long as you can to enjoy jeno’s presence, but he notices and hugs you even closer if possible, whispering softly, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And before you finally drift off, you sleepily murmur, “I love you, jeno. Like, a lot.” 

Even after you fall asleep in his embrace, he stares down at you, softly kissing your forehead.

I love you too. 

bonus bc i adore jeno too much :

“Jeno- for the last time, you’re not a bad boyfriend.”

“I know.... but-“

You shut him up with a quick kiss.

“You’re the sweetest.”

Another kiss.

“Funniest.”

Peck.

“Handsomest.” 

His ever so growing smile freezes. Jeno looks at you, a surprisingly solemn look on his face. 

You raise an eyebrow, confused. 

“......even more than Nam joo hyuk?”

Ah. He had to go for the favorite actor. 

You swallow, battling an intense internal war before begrudgingly nodding. “Okayyy...fine. You are.”  

He crosses his arms. “I’m what?”

You roll your eyes, whining. “I already said it!”

Jeno shakes his head firmly. “Say the whole thing.”

You take a deep breath in, internally apologizing to your beloved actor. “......you, lee -verymuchanannoyingbaby- jeno, are more handsome than Nam joo hyuk.” Your sentence is finished swiftly in one breath, words slurring together. It actually pains you to say that. But it’s good enough for your boyfriend. 

Jeno delights in the squeal you let out when he picks you up in his arms to spin you around. 

“Fuck yeah- take that, nam joo hyuk!”

ღ

a/n: anyways im going to go hide away and cry over jeno now ^^

[tennessoui]

hello 👋 I was catching up on your tumblr like it's my weekly newspaper of choice and, um, if you ever fancied writing a snippet of obi wan getting the call after a concert about fire fighter anakin getting hurt it would be much appreciated 🥺

alright yes of course!!! i always try to give my asks whatever they want 🥺🥺🥺 here's a snippet of singer!obi-wan getting an 'anakin is hurt' call

(1.8k)

When Obi-Wan gets offstage, the first thing he does is check his phone. That’s what he’s been doing for months now, ever since he and Anakin started dating. It’s not like he can look at his phone onstage in front of all the people who paid to see Obi-Wan Kenobi, rock star. He has to wait, to not carry his phone with him at all up to the stage in order to triumph over the temptation of seeing what Anakin is doing right now, what silly thing he wants Obi-Wan to see.

It’s almost better like this. He gets offstage and he gets little presents from his boyfriend: horrifically cooked meals at the station, complaints about one of his coworkers’ new taste in music, awful jokes his sister has told him.

Tonight, there’s nothing.

He doesn’t think much about it though, not when he doesn’t have his boyfriend’s work schedule memorized. Sometimes the firefighters’ schedules shift on random days; someone calling out sick, someone available to cover a shift they weren’t assigned….It’s a big city, but a small firehouse. Obi-Wan isn’t worried.

Disappointed, maybe, that he doesn’t get to see Anakin’s twisted, disgusted face at Jesse’s attempt at dinner. Or his string of laughing text emojis to accompany a joke from Ahsoka. Disappointed, but not worried.

He chats with Kit and Quinlan the entire time back to his dressing room. The drummer thinks the opening song could use a little more rehearsal. The guitarist thinks it’s fine. Obi-Wan hadn’t heard anything definitively out of place, but he’s always alright with more rehearsal. He wants to give the best performance he can to the fans. It’s that simple.

He’s alone for a few minutes when he changes from his performance outfit into his normal clothes. It’s just after ten p.m.

He thinks about calling Anakin, as it’s only 8 in the evening in his city. Surely that’s too early to go to bed, even for a night off-shit. He thinks about it the entire time he’s changing into jeans and a t-shirt, the entire time he’s wiping off his stage make-up--nothing drastic of course, but just enough to be visible in the stage lights, just enough to look a little ghoulish in the warmer lights of the dressing room.

It doesn’t take much to break him, he’ll admit. He really, really likes Anakin. They’ve been dating for eight months now. He’s almost completely comfortable saying that he loves Anakin, but he doesn’t want to scare the other man off. Sometimes he thinks that everything he feels is too big and too dramatic for everyday life, that being in the spotlight from such a young age ruined him for anything private and selfish ever again.

But loving Anakin feels private, feels selfish. It feels right, amazing, like he’s a bandit robbing a small bank and just hopping on the train leaving town. It feels like he’s getting away with something he never should have even expected to have.

Anakin doesn’t pick up.

This too is excusable, as Obi-Wan hardly expects his boyfriend to wait by the phone, anticipating his call. Anakin’s messages during his concerts are gifts for a reason. They’re not mandatory, they’re unexpected.

Going into a serious relationship like this, they’d both understood the importance of their already established lives. Obi-Wan could no more give up a concert in favor of a call with Anakin as Anakin could go off shift and call Obi-Wan.

He packs the necessities he’d carried with him into the dressing room and looks around, if only to make sure he has everything and he’s not leaving too big of a mess.

Ahsoka calls him on his cell, when he’s halfway between his dressing room and the bus. He almost doesn’t pick up because he doesn’t have Ahsoka’s number saved into his contacts. But her city area code is the same as Anakin’s, and he picks up the call.

“Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka sounds like she’s half on the call and half not. “I couldn’t unlock Anakin’s phone, but I saw you were trying to call him.”

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the wall. “Yes, I was,” he says slowly, his gut trembling with a bad feeling. “Why are you calling me, Ahsoka?” He hates sounding so abrupt, but he can’t help it. He needs to know. Perhaps Anakin is asleep, and Ahsoka is trying to ward off any further calls in order to let her brother sleep.

“Anakin’s in the hospital,” she says grimly and straightforwardly. Faintly, Obi-Wan thinks he can appreciate her no-nonsense attitude. She gets directly to the point, even though the point iis dangerously sharp.

“No,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, even as he slowly slides down the wall he’s against until he’s sitting on the floor. “No, he can’t be. I talked to him a few hours ago.”

“There was a call,” Ahsoka sounds so close to crying. No, Obi-Wan thinks. Impossible.

“But I just talked to him,” he says, clearing his throat. “I just….”

“There was a fire out on Temple Street,” she says thickly. “He’s in the hospital because a pillar fell on him. Trapped him in...in a burning house.”

Obi-Wan inhales sharply. If he hadn’t been sitting down already, he would have fallen to the ground. “But I--” I just talked to him, he thinks. As if it matters.

“He’s not critical anymore,” Ahsoka tells him. “But he’s still in surgery. Invasive, but. Not overly risky is what they told me.” She sniffles.

“I’m twenty hours away,” he says faintly.

“I know,” Ahsoka says into the phone. “I know. You’re almost on the other side of the country. But...they didn’t know to call you and I thought you needed to know.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Obi-Wan hears himself say. He needs to move. He needs to catch a plane. No matter expensive. He needs to get to the airport, get to Anakin.

Anakin’s hurt. Anakin needs surgery.

It’s Quinlan that finds him in the hallway, guitar slung over his back.

“Obi-Wan?” he asks, offering a hand out without explanation.

“Anakin’s in the hospital,” he says blankly, staring straight forward at the other wall. “He got hurt in a fire.”

“Then let’s get you there,” Quinlan replies instantly, pulling Obi-Wan up. “Come on. We’ll get you straight to the airport. I’ll tell the fans of the next concert.”

“We need to give them a refund,” Obi-Wan says distantly as he lets himself be led out to the tour bus. There are screams of fans, but it’s like he can’t even hear them. He’s underwater. Nothing matters as much. Nothing matters at all. Anakin needs surgery. Anakin’s in the hospital. Anakin’s hurt. He’s in the hospital. He needs surgery.

“We will,” Quinlan reassures him, leading him onto the bus. He tells the driver something harshly, quickly, and then not even a minute later, the wheels are in motion.

Anakin is in the hospital. Anakin had been hurt. He’d been in a building when it’d collapsed. How had Obi-Wan never even thought to worry about this? He worries about everything, but he’d never even thought of Anakin, of what Anakin’s career means. Sometimes he doesn’t get out. Sometimes Anakin doesn’t save the day. Who saves him?

Obi-Wan only realizes he’s making a weird noise with his throat when Quinlan clasps his hand. “We’re going to the airport,” he says with absolute surety. “We’ll get you to him, alright?”

Obi-Wan nods. What else is he supposed to do? He just talked to Anakin. He was fine then. How can someone go from fine to needing surgery in less than three hours?

He calls Ahsoka within the next fifteen minutes, as soon as it sinks in that this is happening. It doesn’t make sense, he can’t wrap his head around it, but it’s happening anyway. He’s ten minutes from the closest airport. Quinlan’s already got him a ticket. He’s coming. He’s almost there. He just...he needs to know Anakin is….that Anakin is……

“He’s still in surgery,” Ahsoka tells him softly. She sounds so small, so unsure. He’s only met her a handful of times, but he knows this tone does not belong anywhere close to her. “I don’t know, Obi-Wan. Please get here.”

Around the sixth hour after his concert ends, Obi-Wan cries. He leaves the official announcement to Quinlan, because he’s a coward. But he loves Anakin enough to type out a tweet anyway. It’s nothing too dramatic, nothing too honest either. There’s been an emergency. He’s sorry. He’s not sorry enough to not go, but he’s sorry enough to talk to fans. There’ll be a refund, maybe a rescheduling.

His entire life feels up in ends, but he talks about rescheduling. He doesn’t know what else to do. When the flight attendant tells him to turn his phone off, he puts it down until she’s passed by.

He looks out the window of the airplane and he can feel his tears soaking into his beard. Anakin is alright, he keeps telling himself. Anakin has to be okay. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Anakin isn’t okay.

It’s suddenly so amazingly clear to him that if Anakin were to--to not be alright--Obi-Wan’s life would never, ever be the same. Never. They’re intrinsically linked together. Why wasn’t he contacted when Anakin was first brought to the hospital? He needs to know this. He needs to know as soon as Anakin is hurt. He can’t stand the idea that Anakin had been injured halfway through his set, maybe at the end, maybe before it even started.

He needs to know as soon as it happens, if it ever happens again.

He never wants it to happen again. He never wants Anakin to be hurt, to be unresponsive, to be so far from him that Anakin’s sister has to let him know what’s going on.

He needs to be something different, something more. Something that makes everyone understand that he needs to be informed immediately when anything happens to Anakin, his Anakin. His….

Husband. Husband would work. If Anakin were to marry him, Obi-Wan would get preference to every medical incident experienced. Obi-Wan could be there. Yes. Husband

Husband.

Obi-Wan wipes the tears from his eyes slowly as he stares at the backside of the seat in front of him. Husband. If he were to be Anakin’s husband, he’d never be third in the information chain. He’d know immediately when something happens to his...to his husband.

Anakin could be his husband. Obi-Wan would ask him. It would make everything easier. It would mean Obi-Wan would know anything wrong as soon as it happened. He’d be the first in the chain of information.

He wants that, he decides as he cries into his airplane food napkin somewhere over the Great Plains. He wants to be the first. He wants to know. He wants to be there everytime Anakin wakes up from an injury. He wants to hold his hand.

Nothing else will ever make him feel any better. He needs it.

[simplee-dreaming]

The Great Escape

A/N: So this was requested by an anon and I had so much fun writing it, I think it's the longest fic I've ever written so I hope you enjoy! (Also, reading back over this, I realised I've mentioned Vision and Jarvis in the same story which I know isn't possible but I cba to change it because I love them both...even though they're technically the same...)

Word count: 2458

Summary: The reader tries to sneak out to a party, but Tony, Steve and Bucky are onto her.

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

“Are you coming tonight or what?” Your friend asked at the other end of the phone.

“Yes, yes I am. I’m just thinking of ways to escape without being caught.” You replied.

“You’re not in a prison, just walk out of the front door,” they said.

“I wish it were that easy. Tony’s already said no to me going so he’s gonna be on high alert. Don’t worry, I’ll find a way,” You said.

“Okay, meet me outside the party at 9, no later. Good luck, agent Y/L/N” your friend teased.

“Shut up, I’ll see you later.” You hung up the phone. It was half 5 in the evening and it took about 45 minutes to get to the party by walking. You decided you were gonna attempt to leave at quarter to 8, so you would have time to escape without being seen and enjoy a gentle stroll to the party.

“Everyone normally eats dinner about 6, then they tend to go off and do their own thing. This should be a doddle, right?” You thought to yourself.

At 6, everyone sat round the table together to eat.

“So, what’s everyone doing after this?” You asked, trying to work out everyone’s movements.

“I’ll be working on my latest model,” said Tony, shovelling a load of pasta into his mouth.

“I’ll be in the gym, pumping iron,” said Bucky.

“Vis and I have got a date night booked,” said Wanda. Sam made gagging noises next to them.

“Are you gymming too, Steve?” asked Bucky before spilling pasta sauce on his leg.

“Nah I did my workout earlier. I may chill with a film. Fancy joining me, Y/N?” He asked.

Shit. That backfired.

“Oh, uh, thanks but I can’t. I said I’ll phone some friends tonight.” You said, thinking quickly.

“Surely that won’t take long though, would it?”

You paused. Tony looked at you suspiciously.

“You know Y/N, she won’t shut up once she gets talking to her friends.” Peter piped up. You relaxed.

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll be up there for hours.” You said.

“Aren’t they all going to this party you talked about?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, no, not this lot. This is the nerd group I’m part of, they don’t party.” You said quickly. Tony grunted but said nothing more.

Once everyone finished eating, you raced back upstairs to find an outfit. Once you had gotten changed and done your hair and makeup, it was quarter past 7. Half an hour before you were due to leave. You were sat on your bed, scrolling through TikTok until half past 7.

“Sod this,” you thought. Waiting around for any longer would heighten your anxiety so you decided to put your plan into action now.

You left your room and decided to scan all exits of the building to see which one was the best option to use.

“Sir, I don’t mean to alarm you but Y/N seems to be acting pretty suspiciously,” Jarvis informed Tony. Tony was in his lab working on his latest project.

“What do you mean suspicious?” Tony asked.

“She’s wandering back and forth around the compound.” Jarvis replied.

“Maybe she’s just taking a walk.” Tony said.

“Sir, she’s wearing make-up.” Jarvis informed him. Tony stopped what he was doing.

“Makeup? She never wears makeup unless…” Tony stopped in his tracks.

“Jarvis, does Y/N appear to be scanning all the exits?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And does she look dressed up?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That little minx.” Tony said. “Jarvis, get Steve and Bucky up here please.”

“Of course, sir.”

A few minutes later, Bucky and Steve appeared in Tony’s lab.

“What’s up?” asked Steve.

“I’ve got a mission for you both. Y/N is trying to sneak out of the compound to get to this party of hers tonight. I’ve got eyes on her through Jarvis but I need your help to stop her leaving.”

“Tony, she’s just going to a party. What’s the big deal?” Bucky asked.

“The big deal is that she’s 16 and she’s going to a big party where there will be loads of people and most likely alcohol...or worse. Plus she’s already asked me if she can go and I’ve already said no so now she’s disobeying me.” Tony said.

“Oh. Right.” Bucky replied.

“Here are some ear pieces, I’ll stay here and tell you where she is and you go and stop her from leaving,”

“Roger that,” Steve said. “Mission: Trap Y/N is go.” He saluted Tony and left the room with Bucky. Tony sighed.

“Alright Tony, where she at?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Jarvis, I need eyes on Y/N.” Tony said.

“Sir, she is currently heading to the north exit.”

“North exit guys,” Tony spoke into their ear pieces.

“I’m closer, I got this.” Steve said. He quietly ran to the north corridor and saw you walking to the exit.

“Hey you, finished your phone call already?” He asked. You jumped and turned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, um, I was just going for a walk.” You said.

“Oh sweet, I’ll join you.” Steve said.

“Oh, um, well I just wanted some alone time,” you said, hinting at him.

“I’ll be quiet, I can do with some fresh air too.”

“Actually, on second thoughts, I really need to pee so um...yeah…” you said, jogging past him and back upstairs.

Shit. Back to square one.

You gave it a minute then decided to head to the east exit.

“Guys, she’s going east.” Tony informed the boys.

“On it,” Bucky responded.

He was closer to the door than you were so he decided to open it and lean against the threshold, as if he was just admiring the garden. You turned the corner to see him stood with his back to you. You froze in your tracks.

“Dammit,” you thought to yourself. You tiptoed backwards and headed for the south exit instead.

“Nice work guys, she’s going south now.” Said Tony.

“My turn,” said Steve. He, once again, appeared the same time you did.

“Oh did you pee? Fancy going for a walk now?” He said behind you. You rolled your eyes and turned around.

“Hey, um, yeah I did, but um I’ve changed my mind I don’t actually wanna walk anywhere now.”

“But you’re heading for the exit?”

“Uh, yeah, um...I...I got lost.” You said, shrugging.

“Lost? You’ve been here for 16 years…”

“Yeah, um, bit forgetful it seems,” you laughed nervously, “alright well back I go.”

You walked past him. Once you knew you were out of sight, you headed for the final exit to the west of the building.

“Alright guys…” Tony began.

“Going west, got it,” Bucky finished. He headed in your direction and deliberately walked straight into you.

“Whoa, watch where you’re going.” He teased.

“Sorry Buck,” you responded.

“Where exactly are you going?”

“Just going to get a drink then back to my room,” you lied.

“....dressed up like that?” He asked. You blushed.

“Um, yeah, we decided to dress nicely for our call earlier. Bit of a treat, you know?” You said.

“So...what are you doing at the exit if you’re getting a drink?”

“Thought I’d go around the outside to get some fresh air before entering the kitchen.” You lied, again.

“Without me?!” Steve said. You jumped.

“Oh uh, hey, um, yeah I changed my mind again.”

“Well can I at least join you this time?”

“Oh, uh..”

“What do you mean this time?” Bucky asked.

“Well I found her at both the north and south exits and she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to go for a walk or not. I offered my company and she said no.” He said.

“Maybe that’s why she said no.” Bucky teased. You giggled a little.

“So how come Steve caught you at the north and south exits and I caught you at this one and the east exit?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, I...um...I...wait, how did you know I was at the east exit?” You asked.

“Because we have eyes everywhere, Y/N.” Tony said, appearing behind Steve. He held up his tablet that contained Jarvis’ map. “I told them to follow you.”

“What? Why?” You asked.

“Because, you’re sneaking out to that party. Don’t think you can outsmart Jarvis now, Y/N.”

“Damn you, Jarvis.” you mumbled under your breath.

“I have been programmed to protect everyone in this compound, especially children.” Jarvis said over the speakers. Bucky, Steve and Tony all laughed.

“Oh very funny. I’m not a child.” You said, sarcastically.

“No you’re not, but you’re also not 18 yet which means you’re still legally under our care. And when I say you can’t go to a party, it means you cannot go to a party.” Tony said, taking a step towards you.

“But Tony, if I miss out I won’t be one of the cool kids.” You said.

“You live with all the cool kids here.” said Bucky, you rolled your eyes at him.

“I can’t believe you disobeyed me and tried to sneak past even Jarvis.” Tony said.

“I’m sorry for disobeying you, I really am. I just...I need to go to this. People are waiting for me.” You pleaded.

“No. Maybe I would have considered it if you didn’t break my trust. But now I want an apology.”

“I just said sorry.”

“No no, I want a proper apology.”

“What do you mean by a proper apology?” You asked.

Tony took a step towards you and you subconsciously backed away.

“Come here.” He said, sternly. You looked to Steve and Bucky for help but they just kept a poker face. You stepped closer to Tony.

“Now, I need to make sure you mean your apology and that you’re not going to break my trust again. Any ideas on how I’ll do that?” Tony asked.

“By putting a Jarvis tracker on me….oh wait,” you said, sarcastically. Bucky chuckled. Tony cleared his throat.

“Keep talking like that and this will be much worse for you.” Tony said.

“What will?” You asked.

“This.” Tony said. In one swift motion he had swooped you up and pinned you to the ground, careful not to hurt you in the process.

“What the hell?!” You complained, now trapped under Tony.

“I’m not going to stop until I know you’ve learned your lesson.” He informed.

“Stop what??” You asked. He pulled your arms up and pinned them above your head. He then took a single finger and wiggled it into your armpit. You instantly started giggling.

“Nononono wahait shit plehease,” you giggled.

“Not until I know your apology is sincere.” He said, wiggling another finger into your armpit.

“Please please please I am sohohorry,”

“No you’re not, not yet.” He said. With that, he let go of your arms and stuck both hands into your armpits. You pulled your arms straight down, trapping his hands in the process.

“WAIT NO PLEASE!” You screamed as he tickled deep into your armpits. Bucky and Steve both awed at your giggling mess.

"Come join, agents. You deserve some down time too.” Tony said to Steve and Bucky. They exchanged a look and smiled before walking over to you.

“NO NO NO NOT YOU!” You screamed, watching them approach. Tony was still tickling your armpits so Steve sat to the side and started kneading your hips. Bucky grabbed your legs and went for the back of your knees. You yelped and screamed and arched your body violently.

“AHAHAHAHA NOHOHO STOHOHOP!” You cried.

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson.” Tony repeated.

“I HAHAHAHAVE!” You cried.

“What do you think guys? Has she?” Tony asked the others. They both said “no” in unison. “Right then,” Tony continued.

He removed his hands from your armpits and started tickling your neck. You hunched up your shoulders and squealed. Steve noticed you were trying to pull Tony’s hands away so he shuffled up next to your head, grabbed your arms, pinned them above your head again and sat on them.

“WHAT THE HEHEHELL?!” You screamed, now unable to protect yourself from Tony. Steve gave an evil laugh then proceeded to drill his fingers into your armpits. You screamed louder than ever and frantically tried to twist away.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEASE!” Tears started forming in your eyes as the boys tortured you. Bucky adjusted himself so he was now sat on your legs. Having just taken your shoes off, he was now tickling the soles of your feet.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE I’M SO SOHOHOHORRY!” You yelled through the laughter. Tony felt your legs trying to move and looked over his shoulder to find Bucky holding your toes and scratching at your soles. You screamed loudly again and fell into silent laughter, your face going bright red.

Tony looked at Steve and they both stopped instantly, but you were still screaming. They looked over and realised Bucky was still going, tickling both of your feet simultaneously.

“Buck, ease up now, don’t kill her.” Steve said.

“Oops,” said Bucky, climbing off your legs. Steve got off of your arms but Tony was still sat on your waist.

“I….I...I really am sorry, Tony.” You breathed out.

“I believe you,” he said. “Will you do it again?”

“Absolutely not,” You giggled softly.

“Good.” He climbed off of you and helped you up.

“What time does this party start?” He asked. You looked at your watch, it was now half 8 .

“In half an hour,” you said.

“Go and fix your hair and makeup. I’ll drive you there.” He said.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes, really. I was too hard on you earlier. But you’re still only 16 so I’ll be collecting you at midnight, okay?”

You stood up and smiled at the three of them. Then you thought for a moment.

“No.” You said.

“Excuse me?” Tony responded.

“I’m not gonna go. I want to spend the night with my family.” You said. Bucky clutched his heart and let out a long “awww”, which made you giggle.

“Movie and snacks?” Tony asked.

“Movie and snacks.” You agreed.

You all walked back down the corridor together.

“So, does this mean you’re definitely not going for a walk?” Steve teased. You laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. He put his arm around you.

“Wait, let me get changed into something more comfy,” you said, running up the stairs. When you came back down, you got your phone out and messaged your friend.

“Sorry, can’t make it, got caught. See you another time.”

You then placed your phone on the side and sat down between Tony and Steve.

One by one, the other avengers slowly joined your little film group. It really was the perfect family night.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

What if all three Yuus (from the novel, manga, and game) were sent to the same world?

Part 8

(Link to previous)

In Grim’s defense, he was left unsupervised.

‘What about Kuroki?’, you may be asking. Well, Kuroki… was also left unsupervised.

‘What about Ito and Enma?’ Yeah… no.

Really, Crowley should have expected something to happen when he sent out three teenagers to be janitors.

Of course, it had started out pretty civil.

Enma and Ito had looked at each other with identical exasperated expressions before getting back to work. And, to be fair, Kuroki had expected Enma’s attention to wane the moment the conversation stopped being interesting to him… but he had thought Ito, at least, would stand up for Grim. Except they didn’t, only bothering to shoot Ace a dirty look before grabbing the power washer they had been trying to figure out for the past hour and starting to mash buttons again.

“Pft! I can’t bear it anymore!” Ace laughed openly at them, leaning back against the statue of the Queen of Hearts and crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys are the ones who went crazy at the entrance ceremony, huh? What’re you still doing here after that? What, did you do too much property damage and now you gotta pay it off? Pathetic!”

“What did you just say?”

The way Grim puffed up was accentuated by the sound of Ito finally figuring out how to turn on the power washer. They gasped a little at harsh blast of water that came from the tool, their eyes lighting up, and then began spraying down the stones at their feet. It was much faster than scrubbing by hand, they were very pleased by this new development.

“You don’t even know who the Great Seven are,” Ace continued to taunt, reaching back to rap his knuckles against the stone rose bushes gathered around the Queen of Heart’s feet. “It’s no surprise you didn’t get into NRC, I mean you couldn’t have even passed kindergarten if you’re that ignorant.”

Enma hummed a little, tipping his head to the side as if making a note of that to look it up later.

There was something dangerous in the cat-like slant of Grim’s eyes, and Kuroki would have been stupid not to notice the fight that was brewing… but, hey, he was a firm believer in the idea that you shouldn’t dish unless you can take – unless your name is Kuroki Yuuya, then it’s totally fine.

(Besides, he may have been a little pissed at Ace as well. Sure, he wasn’t going to go around getting in unnecessary fights – especially when he was at a clear disadvantage, what with his lack of magic – but he understood where Grim was coming from… and, admittedly, he might have been in a bad mood. Getting sent to another world without warning only to nearly get murdered several times in one night, sleep in the world’s most uncomfortable bed, have nightmares about how none of your old classmates will care that you’re gone, and then being forced to wake up early for a terrible janitorial job… well, it tends to be a lot to deal with for the average person. Forgive him for being a little bitter.)

Grim began to make a low growling noise in the back of his throat.

Ace either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I thought I’d just mess with you a bit, but you really blew my expectations out of the water –.”

He nearly fell over when Ito hit him with their pressure washer. It wasn’t a long blast, and it had been on the lightest setting to make sure that it didn’t hurt, but it was more than enough to thoroughly soak the student.

“What the –?!”

“Ah! Sorry!” Ito said, sounding genuinely apologetic as they stepped forward until they were just barely standing in front of Kuroki… but their eyes flashed strangely in the light as they scratched the back of their neck ‘sheepishly’. “For a second there I thought I saw some grime on the statue!”

Enma leaned against his broom, expression perfectly bored. “I don’t blame you, Ito-san, it’s an easy mistake to make.”

“You –!”

Even Kuroki had to join in from where he was half-hiding behind Ito:

He gasped and snapped his fingers as if he had just gotten an idea. “Don’t worry, I know just how to make it up to you! Hey, Grim-chan, you think you can dry him off for us?”

“Gladly,” said Grim. Blue flames flickered to life in his throat and he sent a blast of fire towards Ace that he barely dodged.

“Hey! Watch out! You could have hit me!”

Kuroki snickered. “Don’t worry, Ace-chan, we’ll do better next time.”

It was funny, really. You could see the exact moment Ace realized he had severely misjudged the situation.

“I’m going to light up that fire-head of yours!” Declared Grim.

All traces of the amusement from earlier had disappeared from Ace’s face as he pulled a pen topped with a brilliant ruby from his chest pocket. “You’ve really got guts to try and fight me. I’m going to turn you into taxidermy, you dumb raccoon!”

The three humans watched on calmly as Ace and Grim fought. Maybe they would have put more effort in but, really, they probably would have gotten in the way more than anything. Besides, Ace was only using wind magic to direct the flames away from himself, so it wasn’t like they were all that concerned about Grim getting hurt.

(They did take turns spraying at Ace with the power washer when he got too close, though. Sometimes this was because he had actually gotten hit by a fireball and, surprisingly, they didn’t want him to die… but mostly it was just for funsies.)

But, apparently, Grim getting hurt shouldn’t have been their priority, they should have been paying more attention to their surroundings.

Because one of the fireballs Ace directed away from himself hit the Queen of Hearts’ statue in its too-smug face.

Enma’s hand flew to his mouth. Kuroki stared, wide-eyed at the statue. Ito made a squeaking sound in the back of their throat.

The two people fighting didn’t even seem to notice until they realized it had been too long since any of the humans had done anything. They followed their shocked gazes to the statue and went still.

It was very quiet for a good minute.

And then Kuroki was gathering Grim into his arms and Ito and Enma were grabbing their supplies and they were all sprinting away at top speed. Maybe they could act like they had been late and had just found the statue that way or something –?

“Whip of love!”

Well, that hope didn’t last long at all.

The four residents of Ramshackle dorm (the living ones… or, at least, they were alive for now, maybe they would join the ghosts that night) were dragged literally kicking and screaming back to the scene of the crime.

“Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit –,” Ace hissed, frantically trying to rub away some of the char with his sleeve.

Grim didn’t know when to be quiet. “This is all your fault! You should have just let me fry you!”

“Who would just let you – you –!” Ace realized who was talking and turned around to glare at Grim, only to find the Headmaster there as well.

And the Headmaster was… well, not happy. The lights in his eyes had winked out again as he looked down at the troublesome group before him. The tendrils of his Whip of love had already sept away, but they were held firmly in place by something else.

Ace, apparently, did know when it was time to shut up. His mouth closed so quickly that his teeth made a loud clicking noise.

Kuroki’s grip tightened on Grim.

“The five of you… you all caused trouble during orientation, and now you’ve charred one of the Great Seven’s statues! You seem pretty eager to be expelled.”

Kuroki very much wanted to argue that they hadn’t chosen to get in trouble during orientation, but he figured now wasn’t the time.

Enma was quick to kneel into a seiza, because he’s a suckup and a nerd. “Sorry, Headmaster. Please don’t kick us out, we have nowhere else to go.”

… okay, maybe Enma was right. (But he was still a suckup and a nerd.) Kuroki dropped into a seiza as well and, after some insistent tugging on a very confused Ito, they mimicked the position that their dormmates were in.

Ace seemed to get the hint, dropping to his knees. But, it seemed that, even now, he couldn’t help himself from being a little cheeky, as he pressed his hands together in an overexaggerated pleading gesture. “Don’t expel us, please, anything but that!”

“My goodness… you, what is your grade and name?”

Ace’s head tipped forward exhaustedly and he sighed. “Ace Trappola. First year.”

“Causing this much trouble on your first day…” Crowley shook his head slowly. “But, I suppose, it wouldn’t do to expel you all this soon… right, the five of you will be tasked with cleaning 100 windows around campus.”

“Eh?! Me too?” Ace said, eyes wide with genuine shock. He gestured at the Ramshackle residents. “I was defending myself! They were trying to kill me!”

“Nah. Talk sh–...” Grim’s eyes flicked to the Headmaster. “... I mean… talk crap, get slapped? Besides, you’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Silence!” Crowley snapped. “You five will meet in the cafeteria after school for your punishment, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

~

Apparently, despite the fact that Ace had agreed, it wasn’t clear.

They had waited a while. After all, it was a cafeteria. The four of them were more than happy to fill their plates after an entire day of cleaning. Enma looked up at the chandelier hanging above them with interest, his head resting in his hands as he watched the way the lights glimmered with a pale yellow light. Ito skimmed a book on dimension travel, absently swirling what was left of their coke bottle as they read. Kuroki leaned back against them, stroking a purring Grim on his lap and starting to nod off…

Enma clicked his tongue. “He’s not showing.”

“Oh, yeah, he definitely bailed on us,” Ito said absently, turning the page.

Kuroki’s eyes snapped open and he blinked several times to get his mind working again. “Should we go find him?”

“I mean… it’s only five more windows each,” Ito said slowly.

Grim sat up suddenly and Kuroki flinched. He hadn’t thought that the monster was awake. There went their free will.

As if to confirm this thought, Grim jumped off of Kuroki’s lap and rested his hands on where he would have had hips if he were a human. “I’m not gonna let him get away with putting all the work on us! C’mon, henchmen! Let’s catch that Ace and make him do all of the window-cleaning!”

And then the monster was dashing away before any of them could protest.

Ito sighed deeply and closed their book with a snap.

~

They probably would have exerted less effort if they had just let Ace run off, to be honest. But, hey, they had committed… apparently.

Enma had quickly gotten tired of Kuroki slowing them down – he swears that he used to be better at physical exercise, guys, it was just a bad week for him… or something – and had thrown him over a shoulder so they could have an easier time keeping up with Grim.

Kuroki sighed, propping his arm on Enma’s shoulder and resting his head on his hand to save himself from an aching stomach.

But it was all for naught. They burst into the classroom that a random third year with a diamond on his cheek said they should check if they were looking for Ace, only to find it empty.

Grim huffed, sending a tiny puff of smoke into the air. “There’s nobody here?!”

“No, I’m here,” said…

Kuroki turned his head every which way and found that he couldn’t find where the voice had come from. Unless one of his dormmates had randomly had a huge voice change, it seemed that the voice had come from no one at all.

“Over here.”

Enma (and, by extension, Kuroki) turned to follow the voice, only to find a portrait of a man with a large top hat and an even larger nose… of course, the contents of the portrait weren’t all that interesting when the portrait was talking to them.

Ito murmured something under their breath, Kuroki only caught the words “Potter knockoff”, before they pulled a smile to their face and waved at the portrait. “Hi, sir! We’re looking for someone, could you please help us?”

“The portrait is talking,” said Grim, who had apparently finally processed this.

“Yes, and?” The portrait asked. “I have a mouth, it is only natural that I possess the ability to speak, no?”

Enma smiled weakly. “Uh, back where we’re from, portraits don’t normally speak. Sorry for staring.”

“That’s quite alright, lad,” the portrait said, their lips pulling into a slight smile. “It simply seems that our definitions of ‘normal’ differ. For the record, everyone here can speak, including the Lady on the wall over there and the Gentleman beside me.”

The other two portraits in the room smiled. Only one of them had an arm, though, so only the woman could wave.

Kuroki tried for a smile.

“That aside,” the first portrait said, attention turning back to Ito. “You said you were looking for someone?”

“Mhmm! His name is Ace Trappola,” Ito said. “He’s got… a heart over one of his eyes and this red hair that kinda looks like fire.”

“Ah, one of the freshmen that started today, yes?”

Grim nodded. “He’s skipping out on a punishment!”

“That simply won’t do!” The Lady in a nearby portrait said, looking aghast as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth politely. “I believe I heard him mention that he was going to be heading back to his dormitory.”

Ito hesitated. “Thank you, but where is that?”

“The inner part of the East Wing. It’s a room full of mirrors, you can’t miss it,” said the portrait of the Gentleman.

“Thanks!” Said Grim, already sprinting out the door.

Enma, though, was completely still. His eyes had fixated on the portraits on the wall with the same look he had given the ghosts the night before and oh no they’ll never leave at this rate. Kuroki gently rapped his knuckles on the side of Enma’s had to try and startle him from his stupor.

When that didn’t work, Ito groaned softly and began tugging on Enma’s arm to get him moving. “C’mon. We can come back tomorrow and you can ask questions then, okay? Let’s catch Ace.”

Enma blinked himself back to proper consciousness and, while he seemed a little put out, he allowed Ito to drag him out once he had thanked the portraits for their help.

And then they were running again.

~

They barely managed to catch sight of Ace in time. He was walking towards a mirror decorated with what looked like playing cards, his hands laced behind his head lazily.

“Hey! You!” Grim yelled.

“Eh?!” Ace turned around, looking irritated, only for his eyes to widen as he recognized the group barreling down the hall after him. “Shit!”

“Stop right there!”

Ace scoffed and turned back around to run. “Really, who would stop just because you told me to?”

A boy with dark blue hair and a spade symbol over his right eye stepped out of the mirror – which, for the record, weird – but Kuroki couldn’t think too much about that at the moment.

“Hey! Can you catch him?” He begged, because he didn’t know if they could follow Ace through the portal when they didn’t have magic and Enma looked about ready to run straight at it, and Kuroki did not need to check off ‘running into a mirror headfirst’ to his bucket list (Ito already had that covered for the lot of them, thanks). “He’s trying to skip out on a punishment!”

Those seemed to be the magic words when it came to getting help in this place, because the blue-haired boy gasped.

Ace pushed past him as he drew his pen.

“Um… um… what do I…?!”

“Do something!” Ito yelled.

“Anything!” Agreed Grim.

“Right! Right! Anything! Um…!” He pointed his pen at Ace’s retreating back. “Come out… literally anything! Something heavy!”

Ace was promptly flattened by a cauldron.

~~~

(Link to next)

[theasstour]

𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟐.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE! ARCHITECT!HARRY! 🏛️❣️✨ It’s been ages since I posted writing on here and it feels good to be back! Believe me when I say that though nothing much happens in this chapter, something will go down in absolutely every chapter, so you’ll hopefully be entertained at one point AOIJFOIREJ! I absolutely adore architect!harry (yearly as much as I adore you lot), I hope you lot will too! Now, let’s start this journey, shall we? 🥰🌟

Friday, 15 September 2017

Monday September 8th 2014. Y/N had spent an abnormal amount of time thinking about that day over the last three years. Sometimes, even if she were in the middle of something else or thinking about a topic completely unrelated, it would just come back to her. Like a flash, as if someone turned on the dim light inside a dark room, she would be taken back to a time, a moment, that would be burned into her brain forever. It would paralyse her for a few seconds, making her unable to do or think or be anything besides that memory. It was almost like, at this point, she thought the ghost of her sister would never quite leave her.

The countless times she had recounted this specific memory, Y/N could never remember exactly what it was that had woken her that late Monday night, or morning rather, in September 2014. One second she was asleep, and then the next, she was awake. She remembered herself looking at the blinds of the window, how they weren’t fully closed that night for some reason, so the orange light from the streetlamp outside shone through the small slits, her room completely silent. This must have been what woke her up from her trance. The blinds were always closed, and the window was always open, letting in fresh air and the noises of Nottingham into her room. It was like her conscious had done it for her, alerted her that something was off and she needed to check her surroundings.

Y/N blinked, realising that the only sound in the room was her eyelids meeting and parting, and the rustling of her bedsheets as she made to sit up in bed. That was when she noticed a flicker of movement in the shadow beside her door. Something unexpected, something unlike what normally was.

“Hello?” Y/N asked, voice hoarse as she sat up completely in bed.

The room was quiet save for the sound of a trainer against Y/N’s carpeted floor. It was faint, and had Y/N’s window been open, she probably would not have heard it. She didn’t remember how she felt in that moment, it was like all emotion was stripped from that memory in order for her to objectively pick it apart over and over and over again. She could therefore not remember how she had felt when she recognised her sister, but she knew she must have been shocked.

“Marcela?” Y/N asked when she recognised the short brown hair of her sister in the shadow on the wall.

A small sigh and Y/N’s older sister stepped forward, letting the dim light of the outside streetlamp wash over her. Y/N had always envied her older sister for right about anything. The colour of her brown eyes, the way her hair looked almost bronze-coloured if the sun hit it just right on late summer afternoons, her wide and pretty smile, charming personality, and slim body were some of the many things that Y/N was jealous of. It just seemed like her sister lived a better, more eventful and meaningful life than Y/N ever would.

Even standing there, wearing a white and lilac floral summer dress, dungaree jacket and white Vans, in the middle of the night or early morning, Y/N thought Marcela had everything together. But whatever happened next to Y/N’s sister, Marcela could never have had it fully together, Y/N realised that now. Nothing that gruesome, that unknowable, could happen to someone who had it all figured out.

“Mari, what’re you doing here?” Y/N asked, reaching for her glasses on the nightstand and pushing them onto her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Newport?”

“Yeah,” Marcela answered, smiling at Y/N as if her being in her little sister’s room that late at night, when the world was asleep, was completely normal.

“What’re you doing here?” Y/N asked again.

“I forgot some things. Kit and I are on the way back. He’s waiting in the car.”

In that moment, Y/N did not think to ask Marcela of what exactly her sister had forgotten in Y/N’s room, which was again something she had beaten herself up for since.

“Y/N,” Marcela said, cocking her head to the side and smiling ever so slightly. “You should be asleep.”

Y/N forgot how to speak, just looking at her older sister as her still slow and sleepy brain tried to comprehend what was going on.

“It’s late, you’ve got school tomorrow.” Marcela walked backward towards the door, still directing that same reassuring smile at Y/N on the way there. “You know how grumpy you’re gonna be tomorrow morning if you don’t get your eight hours.”

“When will you be back?”

Marcela smiled. “Next weekend. I told you this.”

Y/N nodded again, feeling like this was all some sort of hallucination. Maybe it was just a dream.

Marcela held up her right hand and showed off the tattoo just below her thumb. One letter, for Y/N. Y/N’s hand immediately fell to the M just below her own right thumb. A M for Marcela. They had gotten it four months earlier for Y/N’s 16th. Y/N still remembered how scared she was, she did not want to be in pain. Marcela had informed her that it would hurt, but it would all be worth it in the end. Her sister had gotten a few tattoos, most of them up and down her arms, but Y/N knew she wanted even more of them. Y/N supposed her love for tattoos had started because of her sister. After her sister died, Y/N had just gone on to get more and more tattoos. She supposed it had been a coping mechanism in the beginning, to somehow feel close to Marcela, yet forget about her and everything for a little while as the smell of fresh ink, the sound of the needle, and the feel of a tingling pain took over all she knew.

“I’ll be back next weekend. Promise. Just let me have this week with Kit, yeah?”

Y/N swore she could hear a slight tremor to her sister’s voice. However, Marcela was not shaking as she took a hold of the door handle, and she did not look the slightest bit scared or like she was crying for help. No, she just looked like the Marcela Y/N had always known. And that was the problem. Nothing had been out of the ordinary. Something had to have been out of the ordinary.

“Y/N?”

She blinked, realising that she had been fixated on the M tattoo by her thumb again. She would sometimes drift off like this, thrown back to that moment in time that haunted her still, three years later.

“Amorzinho?”

Y/N looked up at her father who glanced over his shoulder at her, a slight furrow to his brows as if he knew exactly where she had just been. Davi and Y/N had always understood each other like that, especially after everything with Marcela happened three years ago. They would sometimes just find the other one staring out into thin air, or at something significant to Marcela, and the other would know right away where the other one had gone. Y/N did not know what memory her papai went back to, she never asked and, quite frankly, did not want to know. That whole experience was hard enough as it was, she had enough with her own memories and regrets.

“Y/N, you alright?” Davi asked, reaching for his daughter’s knee and squeezing it lightly. His positioning was a bit awkward from where he sat in the passenger seat and she sat right behind him in the car, but she felt reassured by his tender action nevertheless.

“Alright, pai,” Y/N answered, laying her hand on top of his.

Her father had always been the affectionate type. He would always go around touching the people that meant the most to him, whether it was a light caress to their cheek, a squeeze to their shoulder, a long hug, or a kiss to their cheek. Having grown up with a single mother and an older sister, he had learned from the best, and had not changed, even for his wife who had never been huge on showing affection. Y/N guessed that, in the case of her parents, opposites really did attract.

Where her father was loud, welcoming, and vulnerable, her mother was a bit more reserved, quiet, and tough. However, when Lottie had, at the ripe age of 24, travelled around South America with her mates after finishing her business degree, she had met Davi in Santos in Southern Brazil, the state of São Paulo, and they had fallen in love right away. It took a year for Lottie to leave Santos after that, bringing her then fiancé with her home to meet her family in Nottingham. Since then, the two of them had been together, and had brought Marcela and Y/N into this world.

It would be weird to not spend every single day with her parents. Everything was about to change drastically. The last time abrupt and extreme change had happened was that morning when Y/N’s parents realised Marcela hadn’t made it home from their cabin in Newport, Wales in time. It had been the day she disappeared. When they had gotten the news that she was murdered.

Y/N hoped her papai couldn’t tell that she was shaking.

“It’s not far now,” Lottie said from the driver’s seat. “Just a few minutes.”

Y/N nodded, looking out at the busy streets of North London as they drove on.

“You know what?” Davi said.

“What?”

“I think this is gonna be amazing.”

Y/N smiled at that, squeezing her father’s hand. “Yeah… I think it might be, too.”

“You will meet so many new people and learn so much. It will be the best time of your life.”

“I’ve told you, love. University was the absolute best time of my life.”

Davi looked at his wife.

Lottie clicked her tongue. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

“I do not. You say the best thing to ever happen to you is me, and yet-“

“-Darling, uni was the best time of my life, but meeting you was the best thing to happen to me.”

Davi threw his hands up in the air in exaggerated frustration, muttering something in Portuguese that Y/N did not catch. However, she couldn’t help her slight chuckle, and the grin on her face only widened when she saw her mother smiling, and then her father taking her hand, planting a lingering kiss to her skin before putting it back on the steering wheel. It was nice to witness casual affection between them like this. It was normal for Y/N to see it at this point, they had been like this her entire time growing up, but it was nice to be reminded that her parents loved each other.

“We’ll be on Orsman Road in five minutes tops,” Lottie said, looking back at Y/N as she stopped at a red light. “Nathan’s gonna meet you outside with your flat keys and such, yeah?”

“Yeah, he said he’d pick them up for me at the letting firm before I arrived.”

“Good,” Davi said.

“It’s nice that you get to move into an actual flat your first year of uni so that you get to be with someone you already know,” Lottie said. “As long as the uni’s got your address and knows you’ve got someplace to live, not living in uni accommodation is alright, if I understand correctly.”

“That’s what they said, anyway,” Y/N said.

“You just need a home. You’ll be home with Nathan.”

Y/N nodded, looking out at Hackney as they drove on. “Yeah.”

“He’ll take you to campus after, yes? So you can register and everything?”

Though Y/N had gone over this plan with her parents countless of times these last three hours, as well as the days leading up to departure, it seemed that her mum needed to be reminded one too many times. Taking a deep breath, Y/N said, “Yes.”

“Good. It’s important that you make it there by your time slot at 5. Reckon there’s heaps of students that are going to register at Helmond today.”

“Probs.”

“It’s important to be on time.”

“We will be.”

“Yeah, remember-“

“-Charlotte,” Davi said, putting his hand on his wife’s thigh. “Y/N’s got it under control.”

Lottie chanced a look at Davi as she turned off the main road and onto a smaller one. Y/N recognised this street from the FaceTime calls with Nathan where he had shown her around the street and flat. Though Y/N had been looking forward to this day for what felt like centuries, parts of her were still nervous, and Nathan’s video guides around her new flat and new neighbourhood had calmed her nerves considerably. She felt like she had already been here, but she could not wait to explore the areas of Hoxton and Hackney that she had yet to see.

As they drove down Orsman Road, Y/N could make out a figure in the distance that she felt like she had not seen in ages. A grin was instantly planted on her face and she fidgeted in her seat, wanting to jump out of the car and in Nathan’s direction. Her tall, lanky, slim, red-haired best friend stood by the entrance to what Y/N assumed would be 36 Orsman Road, squinting in the direction of Y/N’s car. At the sight of it, he started jumping up and down, waving enthusiastically as if he was stranded on a deserted island and a plane was flying by over him. Davi laughed, recognising his daughter’s best friend from the countless sleepovers, dinner parties, and drives home drunk from house parties on the other side of town.

Nathan banged on the window as Lottie parked the car by the side of the road, walking as the car was reversed into place, grinning at Y/N the entire time.

“Oh, my life,” Nathan said through the window, hands pressed against it. Y/N pressed her own against his. “I swear, you’ve taken ages. Thought you were gonna stand me up there.”

“Mate,” Y/N said, opening the car and throwing herself into Nathan’s arms. “Couldn’t miss going to uni with you, could I?”

Nathan squealed and hugged Y/N back, though he had to bend at an unnatural angle in order to do so.

“Nate, how are you?” Lottie asked as her and Davi started unloading the boot of the car, putting bags and boxes on the pavement to be carried upstairs.

“Can’t complain, Lottie, I really can’t. Just moved into a flat with me mates, we might go out tonight, and I have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful face today.”

Lottie laughed, squeezing Nathan’s arm before putting one of Y/N’s bags on her shoulder.

“Right, it’s the first and second floor,” Nathan explained, and upon seeing Davi’s confused expression, added, “It’s split-level.”

“Ahh!”

“Right.” Nathan bent down, taking one of the cardboard boxes. “I’ll show the way.”

“Stay behind, will you, darling?” Lottie asked Davi. “Just so we don’t leave anything on the pavement for anyone to nick.”

“Yes, you go ahead,” Davi answered, waving them off.

Nathan opened the front door and let Y/N and Lottie enter first. From the video calls, Y/N knew that once she arrived at the first story landing, the door to the left would be her and Nathan’s flat. Her new home. She was unsure if it would really dawn on her that she was going to be living on her own, without her parents, for the next three years, two of which were spent with Nathan in this flat. Living without her parents seemed liberating, but also terrifying. How was she going to survive without her papai’s cooking? Without the sound of her mother’s sewing machine? Without hearing their laughter as they watched something on the telly in the living room right below her room? How would she just go on living normally without them being close, like they had been all her life?

Nathan used his elbow to open the door and walked on in first this time to hold the door open for Y/N and her mum. Now, with her own two eyes, Y/N took in the place she would be living in over the next year, maybe two. The foyer they entered wasn’t long, but it had no particular furniture in it except for a painting on the wall opposite the stairs. Y/N suspected the landlord had printed out the popular painting and put it in a frame.

To her left was a slim white door – which matched the rest of the walls of the flat – that she knew to be the very spacious wardrobe. She would put her cardboard boxes and bags there once she was done unpacking, at least that was what Nathan had told her over FaceTime because he had done just that himself. To the right was another white door, this one with a window over it, and yet again, she knew this was where the kitchen would be. The door was open as she walked by, so she sneaked a look at it. The European Oak parquet stood in nice, warm contrast to the white cupboards and black countertops that went along the right wall and the wall right opposite to the door. Above the counter to the right, along the white tiled wall, was a long and small window. The view was nothing to brag about, just a greyish brick building and the pub on the other side of the road, The Stag’s Head.

Further along, the door into the living room stood open. As Lottie studied the kitchen, Y/N stood in the doorway to the shared space to just take a good look with her own two eyes. This, along with the bedrooms upstairs, was the only place in the flat with carpeted floor. The grey carpeted floor looked worn, as if it had been stepped on and used for countless of years prior, there were stains some places from what Y/N could only assume to be red wine and coffee. The left wall had four sets of windows; two smaller ones on the side and two bigger ones in the middle, where the smaller ones were the only ones it seemed that the tenants could open. The windows overlooked Regent’s Canal and the dark brown brick buildings on the other side. Not the prettiest view, but then, they were students and there weren’t many places in Haggerston, London that offered something pretty to look at.

Right underneath the windows, there was a radiator, and right beside that, positioned with its back against the wall opposite to the door where Y/N stood, was a blue sofa. In front of it, positioned against the wall facing it, was a table where a small telly was propped. A PlayStation was already plugged in and Y/N hoped it would be possible for her to somehow play Mario Kart on it as any other games did not interest her. Beside the sofa and the wooden coffee table in front of it, stood a red Poäng Ikea armchair with a footrest to match. That one also looked as worn as the rest of the living room. Y/N was sure that if she sat down, the chair would simply give out and turn to dust under her.

“Up we go,” Nathan said, walking straight past Y/N and up the stairs that leaned against the wall opposite to the living room and kitchen.

Before following her best friend, Y/N looked out through the windowed door, leading out to a mini terrace. You could barely fit two people out there, but she reckoned it would be a lush way to start her mornings. A fresh cuppa and the dreary sight of Haggerston.

“Y/N, you coming?!” Nathan called, making Y/N jump.

She looked back at her mum who just flashed a tight-lipped smile her way. Taking that as a good enough sign, Y/N followed Nathan upstairs. The hallway she was then presented with looked exactly like the one downstairs. However, right in front of her were two doors; the one to the left leading to the small toilet room, and the one beside it to the sink and shower. There was a door to her right as she came upstairs, two to her left, and another one right above where the terrace would be downstairs. That was the room Nathan was in now, putting down Y/N’s cardboard box.

“I’ll run downstairs and let Davi up so he can have a look,” Nathan smiled, walking past Y/N and Lottie to run down to the ground floor again.

The only things the room had to offer were a queen-sized bed, which at 204cm, took up all the space from wall to wall, but luckily enough, there was a drawer behind the door where Y/N could at least put all her clothes. This was the smallest room she had ever lived in.

“This is… rather spacious,” Lottie said, walking over to the windows above the bed and opening them both to let some fresh air in.

“Can’t really expect much if I’m gonna live in London, though. And I’m a student.”

“Precisely.” Lottie took her hands on her hips, looking out at the view from Y/N’s window. It was the same one as from the terrace just under them. The weather that day had been just as nice as Y/N had suspected of the South; a little-too-hot early autumn afternoon, partly cloudy, with busy pavements and crowded parks. She knew that the weather would soon match what she was used to from the Midlands. Even though she would now live farther south, she knew lousy weather was just as likely in London as it was in Nottingham. Y/N was suddenly very happy her mother had opened the windows to let in some of the canal wind.

A small sniffle sounded, and Y/N immediately looked to Lottie who still had her face turned away from her daughter.

“Mum?”

“Look at that!” Davi exclaimed, entering the room with a massive grin on his face.

The different reactions her parents had to the flat just reminded Y/N of how different they were.

“I know, pai,” Y/N said, looking around her room. “A wee bit small, but I’ve never needed much, have I?”

“With all those clothes you’ve brought?!” Lottie asked, looking down at the bag where Y/N’s clothes were, still not meeting anyone’s gaze. “You have too much clothes for your own good. When do you even use most of it?”

“Well, I don’t usually bring out the crop tops and see-through shirts for family gatherings, mum. Might be it.”

“Thank God.”

Y/N watched her mum for a few seconds, knowing something was wrong the moment she started fussing over the bare bed in front of her.

“You need a nightstand,” Davi pointed out, walking over to stand by the bed, indicating with his hand where the nightstand would go. “And a desk.”

“Nathan and I talked about popping by an Ikea. Nearest one’s in Greenwich, I think. Or Wembley.”

“Good! Nathan hasn’t brought his car down, has he?” Davi asked.

“No, he left it-“

“-Speaking of Nathan, I’ll go downstairs and let him carry the last box upstairs.” Before either Davi or Y/N could say anything else, Lottie was out the door and down the stairs, walking down to the car again.

Y/N looked at her papai, seeing a slight furrow to his brows as he regarded his wife retreating downstairs.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked in a low voice, listening to the sound of her mother’s footsteps down the stairs.

Davi met Y/N’s eyes, shrugging one shoulder. “Think she’s a little sad.”

Y/N bit the side of her mouth, sighing slowly.

“It’s a weird day. You’re moving away to University, and last time… last time we drove one of our daughters away like this, she didn’t come home.”

For some reason, Y/N had seen something like this happening. Though her mother had a weird way of showing it, she was constantly terrified after what happened to Marcela, and she was especially protective of Y/N. It had been hard for Lottie to let Y/N have any sort of social life that first year after Marcela. She would want to know everything about where Y/N was heading, who would be there, what they were going to do, and when Lottie could come and pick her up. Though this had been alright in the beginning - Y/N had known even then that it must be her mother’s way of coping with everything – it got a bit much as months, and then years went on. Y/N loved her mother, she really did, but she acted as if Y/N could not protect or take care of herself, something she was more than capable of.

“Pai, I won’t die at uni.”

“I know,” Davi said, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “But your mother still has a hard time taking it all in. You won’t be home, and she won’t have you near anymore. It’ll be a lot.”

Y/N nodded, resting her head back against her papai’s arm.

“Cosy moment,” Nathan smiled as he entered the room with the last box, placing it down on the floor beside the other ones.

“Is mum downstairs?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, she’s by the car. Think she’s waiting for you two.”

Y/N and Davi nodded, Davi then taking a last look around his daughter’s room, smiling as he already knew she would make the bleak setting one many would envy. Y/N, after all, had always had a sense for these kinds of things.

“I’ll wait in my room, which is the one by the toilet,” Nathan informed, pointing to the open door behind him. “Just come knock when you’re ready to head for the uni, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll only be a minute.”

“No worries, babes, take all the time you need.”

Y/N smiled, walking past Nathan while Davi gave him a hug, wishing him good luck to come in the approaching first semester of University. It would be Nathan’s second year, so he knew what he was going into compared to her, but she knew Nathan appreciated Davi’s encouraging words regardless.

Y/N walked down towards the ground floor, her papai right behind her as they exited the flat building. Lottie stood by the car, arms crossed and eyes on something further up the street. It was as if she was looking for something, making sure it was safe for her Y/N to live there without her mother’s supervision.

“Mum,” Y/N said, now recognising the worry on her mother’s face. “Mum, it’ll be alright.”

She walked straight for her mother, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. Though it would normally have been the other way around, the parents reassuring their kid they would be fine on their own, Y/N now patted her mother on the back and felt her bury her face into her daughter’s shoulder. Davi walked over as well, placing a hand on Lottie’s arm, squeezing her lightly. Some time went by without any one of them saying anything, just feeling and processing the words left unsaid.

Soon, Davi let out a small sigh, hugging the back of Y/N’s frame and mumbling her name against the top of his daughter’s head.

“We’re going to miss you,” he said, leaving a kiss against her hair.

Too caught up in her mother’s sadness, Y/N did not realise until just then that this was the moment she had been dreading. This one, where she stood by her parents’ car, saying goodbye to them and watching them start on their drive back home to Nottingham without her.

It was a complex state of being. Going away to University, starting a new life for herself, was something Y/N had dreamed of for as long as she could remember. She wanted to experience new things and to study something she was passionate about. But part of her was still pulling her back towards Nottingham, home. It would feel wrong, maybe even like being abandoned, thrust into adult reality, when she watched her parents drive off.

The thought of her living in the biggest city in the country by herself, did not sit right with her in that second. She was suddenly six again, her papai teaching her how to ride a bike. She was eleven, getting her period for the first time and her mother showing her how to use a pad. She was sixteen, having forgotten she had an important maths exam the next day, resulting in her and Davi sitting up for hours until she knew what she was doing. She lived at home, where her parents could protect her, help her, guide her, and provide for her at any given second. They would always be there whenever she needed them, always close and ready to pour every ounce of love onto her.

But now, even though she knew her parents would still love her the same and always be at her service whenever she needed them, now they would live separate lives. She would still be part of their lives and they would be part of hers, but they would not intermingle, get stuck, and weave themselves together like they had done since Y/N’s day of birth and until now. Y/N had not lived a single day in her life where she had not physically been close to her parents in one form or another. She had known it would be hard to watch them leave, she knew she would hate herself for this once she sat in her room all alone that same night or when researching information for an essay in a month’s time. Even though part of her was looking forward to what was to come, another part did not want to be left. She wanted a new life, but she was terrified of letting the old one, the safe one, go.

“Oh, my baby,” Lottie said as she pulled away, taking Y/N’s face in her hands. “My wee Y/N.”

Y/N went back in for another hug just so her mother wouldn’t see how glassy her eyes were. She felt them stinging and knew she would shed a tear soon.

“You will have no problems at uni,” Davi said, squeezing his daughter.

“How do you know that?” Y/N mumbled into her mother’s shoulder, closing her eyes as to make sure no tears escaped. She felt pathetic, but the overwhelming realisation that her parents would leave her in a few minutes had hit her like a brick.

“Because we know you. We know you’ll make friends; we know you’ll excel.” Davi took a step away, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Deep down, you know that, too.”

“As much as I hate the fact that I won’t get to see you every single day or know what you’re doing, I know you’re going to love being at University and you’re going to love London,” Lottie said, rubbing Y/N’s back.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Y/N sounded like a wee child, refusing to let her parents leave her at kindergarten for seven hours.

Davi squeezed Y/N’s shoulders again. “It’ll be alright, querida.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I do. You feel like this now because this is a huge change. University is the beginning of adult life, it’s scary, but you’ll love it.”

Y/N chose not to argue with her papai as she knew he was only trying to make her feel better. And also, though she did not want them to leave, she knew that the longer she stayed there with them, the higher the risk was for her to bawl her eyes out into her mum’s shoulders. Slowly, making sure to wipe her eyes discreetly against her mother’s shoulder, Y/N stepped away from her parents, trying to smile at them both. She knew they could tell she was about to cry, but was grateful that neither one of them pointed it out.

“Goodbye, my baby,” Lottie said, stroking Y/N’s cheek. “Please call us tonight or tomorrow, we want to see your room when it’s all finished.”

Y/N nodded. She always kept her mouth shut when she was about to cry, it was as if speaking made all emotion float out of her through her open mouth, and she started crying uncontrollably.

“We’ll see you soon,” Davi smiled. “Remember to have fun, yes? This is going to be so much better than you think.”

She smiled, watching her father sit down in the passenger side and her mother climb into the driver’s side.

“Remember your time slot, Y/N. Remember to get to the uni on time to register-“

“-Lotts,” Davi warned.

“Right, alright,” Lottie sighed, getting the car going. She turned back to Y/N one last time blowing her a kiss. “Love you.”

“Te amo!” Davi shouted, waving and grinning at his daughter.

Y/N was left standing there looking after the car as her parents drove off. She was unable to move for a moment, the only thing she managed to do was stare after the car until it was out of sight. When it was, Y/N felt an instant sort of empty feeling in her stomach. She was on her own. Her parents were on their way back to Nottingham, and she was here. In London. Alone. Momentarily, Y/N’s excitement about uni and everything she would experience these next three years, was all insignificant. The lack of her parents’ presence was like stripping reality of warm colour, replacing them with the dreary and cold.

She felt her eyes begin to sting and let one tear roll down her cheek. Then, wiping the next few off her face, she started making her way up to her new flat. She closed the ground door behind her, and then the front door of the flat when she reached it. Nathan was out on the balcony with a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He did not notice Y/N as she walked up to her room again and she was very happy he did not.

Walking straight for the bathroom, the door right in front of the stairs once you reached the first storey of the split flat, Y/N closed and locked the door afterwards. She turned water on, scooped some coldness into her hands and splashed it over her face. Without hesitating, she did it again, turning the tap off before looking at herself in the mirror above the sink. She wiped the water off her face with the sleeves of her jumper, cursing herself for not having brought a towel in with her.

“You’re a bad bitch,” she hissed at her reflection. “Why’re you crying?”

A small gasp left Y/N’s lips and she turned the tap on again, splashing her face with more cold water. She had no idea if it was helping any, but she had a strange sense that by doing it, she would feel better afterwards. However, looking at herself in the mirror again, she did not feel the least bit better.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked herself in a whisper. “Can you stop crying? There’s literally no need to cry.”

But there was, her brain retorted, and that alone brought more tears to her eyes. Y/N knew that had she been driven down here by her parents to be on holiday for a week or two, she would not have cried. Maybe she would have cried the day before going home because she would rather be in London than Nottingham because she loved it so much, but she would not have cried when her parents drove off. In fact, she was sure she would have loved to see them go and known she was free to do whatever she wanted, when she wanted.

But this was different. She lived in London now. Her mother couldn’t just come whenever Y/N needed her, and her papai couldn’t stop whatever he was doing to help her with whatever she was struggling with. It was a new life. A new beginning. And she had to do it all alone. She was used to being alone by choice, she didn’t like this feeling of alone.

“Y/N?!” Nathan called as he walked up the stairs. “Y/N, you in your room?!”

Taking a deep breath and wiping a little excess water off her cheek, she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped outside just as Nathan stood in the doorway of her room. Nathan took one look at her and said, in a quiet and low tone, “They left?”

Y/N inhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

Nathan walked over to her, bringing her in for a hug. Y/N hugged him back tightly, appreciating the reassurance. She knew she wasn’t alone, she had Nathan after all, but it was still strange to be here without her parents.

All her time throughout school, Y/N had looked forward to moving away to University. Her and Nathan had planned out their lives once they got to uni, in detail, and could spend hours on end just making plans for Freshers Week and the parties they would attend. Having been friends since year three of school, the two of them had made a lot of plans throughout the years. Most of the plans, they had never gone through with, but it was still fun to imagine. Neither could remember what exactly had gotten them to talk to one another that first time, but they had always suspected it was their mutual friend, Ella, who had gotten them talking. Since then, Nathan and Y/N had been inseparable.

They always did the stupidest things together, annoying all their friends and family. They got their license on the same day, would often sleep out in one of their gardens just because they could, always made the other a Build-a-Bear for their birthday, knew each other’s favourite scents, tastes, turn ons and turn offs, and everything in between. It was a friendship that was seen as maybe a little too close, but once you found your soulmate, there were no boundaries anymore. At least that was how Y/N and Nathan saw it. Besides, there was a sense of bond between them that only people identifying as queer could understand. Though neither of them had known at the age of seven when they met that they would grow up to identify as gay and bisexual, they knew now that their bodies, on some level, had known, and therefore drawn them to one another.

When you’re around other people from the LGBT community, there is not only a sense of understanding between you, but also undeniable, immeasurable comfort and support. No matter what. It’s a home, someplace to be completely you, without feeling like you need to tone it down or be ashamed, something the outer world sometimes could make you think you needed to. Y/N was therefore incredibly happy that her, as a bisexual, had found Nathan, who was himself with his whole heart, and who encouraged her to be the same.

“You ready to go to uni?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just change into a tee shirt.”

Nathan let go of her and followed her into her room.

Having always been plus size, Y/N broke a sweat rather easily. She therefore knew that she might freeze a bit in the beginning, but if her and Nathan were supposed to walk up and down stairs at tube stations and walk indoors at Helmond, she would need to wear a tee shirt to cool herself down some.

She took her jumper off, lobbing it on the still empty bed before she opened her bag filled with tops. She dragged a tee shirt out at random, taking a look at the black tee shirt with a white half moon embroidered onto the chest. Dragging it over her head, she walked to the full-body mirror that her mother had insisted on her bringing. She said there were rarely mirrors in student houses, and she was right. Looking at herself, Y/N ran a hand over her black denim shorts, studying how her faux leather sock boots went with the rest of her outfit. The chunky soles were amazing for walking, and she knew her feet would be aching by the time they got back home.

“Hmm,” Y/N said. “Might change into jeans, actually.”

“Why?” Nathan asked, furrowing his brows. “You look good in that.”

“I know, but the chafing.”

Nathan, who had heard this before, only nodded. With his noodle legs, he had never experienced chafing, and therefore did not say anything. Y/N knew this and appreciated him not trying to relate to her problems as a plus size woman. He could understand many of her problems, but never that.

Bringing her trouser bag forth, she got a pair of black jeans out, putting them on, making sure the sock boots were on the outside of the tight-fitted denim, and then the two of them were on their way. Y/N brought a tote bag, putting her phone, purse, and flat keys in it.

They arrived at Haggerston tube station on Lee Street, and once they were there, Nathan helped Y/N set up her Oyster card. The card would be an easier payment method for public transport around London, and though she could easily just tap her bank card, an Oyster card was, according to Nathan, a better way of doing it.

“You can use it for right about anything,” Nathan explained as they stood by the Overground platform, waiting for the Crystal Palace / New Cross / West Croydon train to arrive. “We’re talking Underground, Overground, Tramlink, all buses, River Services, you name it.”

“You always take the tube to uni.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Nate, you literally send a snapchat every single day before you go to uni of you sitting on the Overground.”

Nathan tutted, shaking his head. “I also walk.”

“When?”

“Blimey, I can walk. I do have legs, have you seen them?”

“Pretty hard to miss when they take up 80% of your body.”

Nathan gasped, nudging Y/N before the two of them laughed. The train arrived, and they got onboard, sitting down on one of them orange seats along the walls. They got off at Whitechapel, weaving past people to get to the Underground this time. They took an escalator down to the District and Hammersmith & City lines, Y/N following Nathan as he made a right turn for the Eastbound route.

“I know that exact walk, from the Overground to the District Line, like the back of my hand,” Nathan said, grinning proudly as they stepped aboard the train, holding onto the pole in between two doors. The doors closed, and Y/N had to hold on tight as not to faceplant onto the tube floor. That would not have been an ideal way of starting her conversion into a proper Londoner.

“Thought you said you walked to uni as well.”

“Well, I still do!”

“Alright.” Y/N nodded. “When’re we getting off?”

“Stepney Green.”

“This is Stepney Green. Change here for Hammersmith & City-“

Y/N raised her eyebrows at Nathan. “Really? Not even one stop?”

“Leave off, you hag.”

“Please, mind the gap between the train and the platform edge.”

The two walked up to the surface again and started on their ten-minute walk to Helmond from there. Y/N thought it would take them longer to get there considering she was a slow walker, something Nathan always had to consider when walking around with her, but it did not. The lack of her parents’ presence still hung in the air around her, it was still thick as fog, and she knew the longing for their closeness would not clear away within the next few days, but the moment she set her eyes on her University, she forgot about everything for just a little bit.

Helmond, University of London rose up before them in beautiful red and white bricks, shining in the late September sun like a lone castle in the middle of a vast and dark forest. It felt like Y/N had been without food and water for days, and the sign of the castle, the sign of life, brought a new sense of meaning to her. The massive University took up an entire 175-acre rectangle in London, enrolling a total of 20 thousand students, and being the second biggest London University for that reason alone, only barely beaten by Battersea, University of London, who hosted 35 thousand. Regardless, Helmond was the oldest uni in London, the first one to be established in the capital in 1817. Y/N felt very small looking at it, even though it wasn’t a particularly tall building, but she knew how big it was from the Open Day she had spent walking around campus grounds with her parents.

Nathan led Y/N over to the stairs and the two walked on in. It was like stepping right into a Renaissance painting. The ceilings were tall and vaulted, grand pillars against the walls up and down the halls. This hall was white, but Y/N knew that in other places in Helmond, the ceilings were painted, making it look like a sort of Versailles rip-off.

Immediately as you walked in, you stepped into the entry hall that was filled with first years trying to find their way around the uni. Right ahead was the reception area and a statue of Victor Helmond, the founder of the school and the first headmaster. To Y/N, he looked right about just like those old statues from the 1800s did, he was no different with his medium height, messy hair, and beard. Through the tall French windows behind the reception and statue, Y/N glimpsed one of the two massive courtyards in the middle of the University. 

The uni was built around two quads, separating them was another quad just behind a red and white brick bridge, making it easier for students to get to lectures on time instead of walking their way through the long hallways, past lecture halls, cafeteria, and shops. Y/N could envision herself walking that bridge quite a few times over the next few years. There was another statue in the middle of the courtyard Y/N could see now, red and white tiled paths leading up to the fountain it stood on from each of the four walls facing it. The other courtyard was a replica of this one, only the statue was different. The one Y/N could see was Victor Helmond’s wife, Maud, and she knew that in the other courtyard, there was a statue of Queen Victoria. She had been told all of this on her Open Day months ago.

People were sitting in the grass of the quads, either with books in their hands or surrounded by friends. No one looked to have a care in the world, not even another oncoming year at uni. Y/N wished she could be as relaxed as them, and told herself that at one point, when she felt more at home here, she would.

“Coming?” Nathan asked after a little while, walking backwards while keeping his eyes on Y/N.

“Yeah.”

She followed him and the two walked further down the hall where there was a queue. Nathan stopped there and smiled at Y/N, nodding in the direction of the open door.

“Won’t be too long, there are tons of student representatives standing there, so it’ll take us ten minutes,” Nathan explained.

And he was right, it did not take them long to get to the front of the queue. They were stood in what Y/N could only assume to be a room specifically used for meetings. The table was fixed to look like a horse shoe, right about ten student representatives standing there, helping to register those that were there to start their first year.

“Next!” a woman called, and with one last look at Nathan, Y/N walked in her direction, giving her, what she hoped to be, a friendly smile as she approached.

“What’s your surname?” the student representative asked.

“Montes.”

She looked behind her, taking some time to find a M. She walked up and down the row of tables behind her, but once she finally came back to Y/N, she placed a manila folder on the table in front of her.

“Y/N Montes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Studying English Literature?”

“Yup.”

“Brilliant,” the woman said, bending down to retrieve something more Y/N had to bring with her. “Just sign your name, date of birth, and the student halls you’re living in on the paper in front of you, please.”

“I don’t live in halls.”

“Ah, well, then you just write your address down. The uni just wants to know where you live, really. Especially if you’ve moved here to attend uni.”

Y/N nodded, taking the pen laid before her and writing under Jack Williams that had been before her.

“English Lit?”

After only having signed her name, Y/N looked up at the girl to her left who had just talked. She was looking straight at Y/N with a small smile on her face.

“I’m doing English Lit, too,” the girl said, her smile growing.

Y/N smiled back. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she blonde said, grinning now. “I’m Chloe.”

“Y/N.”

Chloe made a small bow. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours.” Y/N cursed herself for not being funnier. This girl would not want to be her friend if she wasn’t funny.

“Not to be like this,” the bloke helping Chloe out said. “But could you do this outside? We need to register more people.”

“Of course,” Chloe said, sounding a little too charming for her own good. She glanced back at Y/N, hugging her manila folder to her chest. “See you around, Y/N.”

“And you.”

Y/N’s entire chest burst with a sort of contentment only strange encounters could bring forth. It was a sort of reminder that Y/N was appreciated and seen by someone she barely knew; someone she appreciated and saw in return. Knowing that, even though they might not stay friends for their entire time at uni, they would at least lean on each other as lectures began. She could find Chloe and sit down next to her, and it would not be weird.

“Wicked,” Nathan said as Y/N came walking in his direction with the Helmond folder in her hands. “Now, let’s go for dinner. I’m famished.”

And so they did. They stopped by a pub on the way home, staying there for two hours just talking, eating and drinking. It was nice to finally be with Nathan again. He had been in London for well over a month, and as much as Y/N wanted to come down there, she needed all those hours of work to earn money for uni. New Look did not pay well, but at least she had a bit of money to use right off the bat. She’d need a new job, though. And fast.

This time around they walked back to the flat, taking the hour it took to just take in the stroll that Y/N knew she would take more than she would take the tube. There was just a lot to look at, and no hills, meaning that the stroll would not kill her. Another bonus was the time she would get to spend just listening to music, something she adored. Once again, she completely forgot about her parents and them leaving, until they reached the flat an hour later. Remembering brought a white-hot ball of aching to Y/N’s stomach, making it hard for her to swallow properly. She assumed it would be like this for a few days, if not weeks. She’d have to find her place and her people before the feeling of longing for her parents and life back home in Nottingham, would dissipate.

It was very dark in the flat when they finally got home around 8. Nathan stumbled a bit when they walked through the door, making Y/N laugh her ass off. Nathan only flipped her off before urging her to walk on in. She did, taking her shoes off and leaving them by the door. The light in the kitchen was on, and because Y/N assumed they must have left it on before they left, she did not bother to take a proper sweeping look over the room before reaching for the light switch. She stopped.

Nathan was busy closing and locking the front door, humming to that Tinie Tempah song that was always played in any sort of club setting. He must have been clubbing the night before, she reckoned. The rest of the flat was quiet. It was left in darkness. It was therefore weird to Y/N that she saw a hallucination in the middle of the lit-up kitchen. Would it not have been wiser of her brain, a bit scarier also perhaps, to put that hallucination in the corner of her dark room? Why was she seeing it right there, in the kitchen, in vivid detail? She wouldn’t remember ever having hallucinated… him. Her sister sometimes showed up, but Y/N never saw her in detail, only as she remembered her from that last time she saw her. But this… this was different. Y/N fucking hated it.

“Y/N,” he said, voice darker than she remembered it.

Blinking a few times to get the sight of him out of her head, she turned the lights off and turned to Nathan who struggled taking his shoes off, now humming to another song.

“Nate, literally shut up. Chainsmokers is rank.”

“Oi! Closer is a fucking belter!”

“Y/N, could you turn the lights back on, please?”

There it was again. His voice. She closed her eyes and shook her head forcefully, as she did to get rid of Marcela’s image. With a hand on the strap of her tote bag, Y/N started on her journey towards the stairs.

“Oi, Y/N, why’re you leaving the man in the dark?” Nathan asked, frowning over at Y/N as she stopped moving. What… What did Nathan just say? Had he seen Y/N’s hallucination as well? Were they both hallucinating? What had been in the two pints they’d just had? Nathan wasn’t drunk, was he?

She could tell by the yellow light that flooded into the hallway from the kitchen that Nathan had turned the lights back on. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder at Nathan, meeting his gaze right away. Nathan glanced into the kitchen, giving the hallucination a smile before asking, a little too casually, “You’re home early.”

“Work was slow. Let me off early so I could get a few extra hours sleep in before uni starts.”

Y/N shook her head again, walking over and putting a hand on Nathan’s shoulder to check if he was real and not just another hallucination. Nathan looked to Y/N right away, a deep furrow to his brows as Y/N felt his neck and cheek.

“Have you cracked your skull? What’re you doing?” Nathan asked.

“You can see him?” Y/N blinked at Nathan, nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

“Of course, I can see Harry. I’m not blind and I did develop the ability to sense another human beings’ presence when they’re in the same room as me. He’s standing right there, isn’t he?”

“No, he… he’s not…”

Y/N looked at the hallucination again then. Harry Styles. She had not thought about him in months, had not seen him in years. They had not been in each other’s proximity since he lived in Nottingham with his father three years ago. Had not spoken properly since that day in late August 2014 when they spent the night together. And there he was, standing in the kitchen of her new uni flat. She could not believe it. There were so many questions running through Y/N’s head in that second that she did not know which one to ask Nathan, who, it seemed, had no problem with Harry Styles being in their kitchen.

“Yes, he is,” Harry answered slowly, looking at Y/N with his eyebrows raised. They rose even higher up his forehead once he caught Nathan’s eye. “You didn’t tell her.”

“What?” Y/N looked at Nathan. “Didn’t tell me what?”

Nathan raised his shoulders in a shrug that Y/N knew was only done to buy her best friend some time. He pursed his lips, refusing to meet either of their eyes. “Might’ve slipped my mind.”

Harry cocked his head, putting the glass of milk he was holding back onto the counter. “Slipped… your mind?”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?!”

“Y/N’s blind, you’re deaf. What’s next?”

“Nate, please, for the love of fuck, tell me you told her.”

“Nate?” That made Y/N retreat, two lines etched between her brows as she looked to Harry again, then back at Nathan. “You only let your mates call you that.”

Harry let out a short, high-pitched laugh. “Brilliant. You didn’t even tell her about me in general. What’s that about? You ashamed of me?”

“Oh, don’t take the piss, you wank-stain.” Nathan rolled his eyes. “I knew it would not go down very well.”

Harry crossed his arms. “And this way it would?”

“I was gonna sit her down and tell her, but I never got around to it. Alcohol called, she wanted us to have two pints at a pub.”

“Don’t blame this on a pint, you could’ve told her ages ago.”

“Can someone please,” Y/N called, making Nathan stop whatever he was about to say. “Tell me what the bloody hell is going on?”

Nathan and Harry looked at one another, exchanging a sort of glance Y/N could almost decipher, but in her confused state was too dizzy to try and comprehend. They stood like that for a few seconds, making grimaces at one another, having a telepathic argument that Y/N wanted in on.

“Hello?!” she called, making both boys jump and look at her again.

“Nathan,” Harry said, picking his glass of milk up again and taking a sip.

“Right,” Nathan sighed, turning his body in Y/N’s direction. “Y/N, Harry’s gonna be living with you for the rest of the year.”

Harry huffed. “Want me to move out next year, do you? Don’t wanna live with me our third year?”

“Oh, you know I do, but one year at a time, yeah? Don’t need to traumatise her more than necessary.”

Y/N did not know what to do. Out of all possible scenarios, out of all horrible happenings at University, she had not seen this one coming. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought this would ever happen. She quite frankly thought she had left Harry Styles behind her in her past, never to be in contact with or meet him again. But he was one of her new flatmates. She would be living with him for at least a year, two if she did not decide to move out. They had been each other’s first time, and then never spoke to each other again, despite everything else. That was three years ago, and now what? Were they supposed to talk it through? Were they supposed to ignore it? Ignore each other?

Y/N’s head was spinning, and it seemed the rest of the flat was spinning with her. Taking one last look at Harry and Nathan, she started walking in the direction of the stairs. Whatever the two were arguing about, they stopped the second they saw her strolling away.

“Oi, what’re you doing?” asked Nathan.

“I’m fucking going to my room to get away from you,” Y/N asked, voice razor sharp. “Unless you forgot to tell me there’s a corpse hidden inside my wardrobe?”

“It’s just 8. The night’s still young.”

“I don’t care.”

“Mate-“

“-Is there a corpse in my room? Or lice in my mattress? Or any other rather big news you’d like to tell me?”

Nathan must have known this would happen, but he still looked nervous as he shook his head, indicating that there was nothing else he was supposed to have told her but hadn’t.

“Good,” Y/N said. “I’ll deal with whatever kind of situation this is, tomorrow.” She paused. “Or maybe the day after that.” Another pause. “Fuck this. Fuck you.” She pointed at Nathan.

“I’m just trying to make us all be friends here,” he said. “Besides, don’t fuck me, I’m gay. And…” Nathan nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Harry stood. “You’ve already fucked him-“

“-I’ll literally murder you, Nathan,” Y/N hissed, and she swore she could hear a grunt of disapproval from Harry’s end as well, not having appreciated Nathan’s comment.

Without another look at them, she walked up the stairs and to her room, locking herself in there. It was then that she realised she hadn’t gotten her bed ready for the night. However, in her infuriated state, Y/N did not care. She got her pillow out from one of her bags along with her duvet, opening the windows to let some fresh air in and pulled the curtains close. She wasn’t really about to go to bed, but she knew that she would cry in not too long because she missed home, and her anger at Nathan and Harry did not help. If she got angry enough, she’d cry. Hard.

She could not believe this. It did not feel real. Ever since that night in August, she had not talked to Harry, and she did not think she ever would again. However, here she was, living in the same flat as him. It wasn’t as if their time together had been more awkward than they had anticipated, but the reason why she could not stand him was because, even though had kept every single other promise he’d ever made, he had not even done as much as look at her after they had sex. He had not called like he promised he would. Had not kept in contact with her after moving away. Had not been what he had promised he would be: different. A mate.

They had promised each other at the time that this would not be awkward, they would just get it over with, be awkward with one another, and then forget it ever happened. They would go back to being mates. But then Harry had shut her out, and they had not talked since. At times, when Y/N thought about this not too long after it had happened, she was scared that the entire reason why Harry had even been friendly in the first place was so they’d fuck and forget about one another. Sometimes it was easier to tell herself that than to remember all the lovely times. Y/N chose to repress those. He was not worth it.

She heard Nathan’s voice and then Harry’s along with footsteps. They were walking up the stairs, talking in hushed voices as if scared to wake anyone up. Y/N supposed it was the last flatmate that she had yet to meet, and considering how Nathan had not told her she would be living with Harry for the next year, she was scared to think who the last flatmate would be.

There was a knock at her door.

Y/N rubbed a hand over her face. “Drink piss.”

“Y/N, I just wanna talk.”

“No, Nathan.”

He jiggled the door handle. “Please.”

“Nathan, I need to be alone or else I’m sure I’m gonna fucking choke you till your eyes pop,” Y/N said. “Harry Styles, Nathan!”

“Yes, Y/N, I know!” Nathan said, sounding genuinely conflicted as well. “I know I should have told you he goes to Helmond! And that we’re mates here! I know!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“’Cause I knew you wouldn’t live with me if I told you,” Nathan admitted. “I had been looking forward to you coming here for so long, and Harry, Mason, and I kind of agreed to move in together. I told Harry, but he never had a problem with it, but I knew you would, because… well… everything that happened in Notts.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“But believe me that I didn’t do this as a way for you and Harry to, like, start talking again-“

“-‘Cause if you did-“

“-Oh, I know I would’ve been dead by now if that was the case, I know.” Nathan sighed. “Y/N, he’s not as much of a knob-“

“-He is a knobhead. Now, then, forever. Now, leave me alone.”

Nathan knew there was no way for him to make this any better. Once Y/N had made her mind up, it was hard to change her perspective on things. Getting her used to Harry, to living with him, to accepting this fate of hers, would take a very long fucking time.

Nathan said a small, “Later” from down the hall, and Harry replied with a “Have a good one” that seemed a bit closer somehow. Before she knew it, the door just beside hers opened, a small creak to it as Harry stepped in. It closed just after Nathan’s did, and Y/N heard the sound of footsteps from the room just beside hers. Not only was Harry Styles, the person who took her virginity, and Y/N Montes, the person who took Harry Styles’ virginity, living in the same flat. No, their rooms were also right next to one another. Brilliant. Fucking brilliant. Not only had she cried an abnormal amount today, sprained her ankle some on her walk home, and been uncharacteristically awkward when meeting new people, but she had also moved into the same house as her ex-friend.

Y/N turned her face, burying it into her pillow, and screamed.

Monday, 18 September 2017

There were people everywhere. Y/N was used to there being heaps of people everywhere she looked and did not mind crowds. She liked the company of people around her, the sounds of civilisation. In fact, it relaxed her much more than a calm countryside ever could. When walking through Canada Water, she did not mind people bumping into her or them walking right past her. It just showed signs of people and she loved that. She hated being alone, hated the sound of her own breathing and nothing to accompany her.

That was one of the reasons why she had looked forward to moving to London in the first place. She wanted the comfort of never being alone, of always having someone around, which she knew she would appreciate about London. Of course, she knew there were places in London she could go to be on her own, but she liked the idea of never, truly, being alone. The prospect of being alone, terrified her. She was never lonely, she had a lot of friends, she was close with her parents, but being alone, with no one else around, was something else entirely.

She did not feel lonely, even though she did not know any of the people around her at this precise moment in the tube station, she was surrounded by people and there was a comfort in that. Years & Years blasted from her earbuds and it was hard not to sing along when Desire went as hard as it did. So, instead of singing with her whole chest in the middle of the tube station, Y/N settled for miming the words with her mouth. She loved Years & Years more than she could articulate, so it was hard for her not to go crazy while listening to them. She could not wait for their second album to drop sometime next year.

Y/N walked towards the Eastbound platform as she reached the Jubilee line level. Nathan would be waiting for her at Ikea in Greenwich, as he had gone for a few other errands in the area, which ones Y/N did not know, but she had no problem meeting him there. However, she would have much more preferred it if he could have gone there with her, as she much more preferred to hang out with her friends than getting to places by herself. She just needed to take the Jubilee line to North Greenwich, and then take the 161 bus to Millennium Leisure Park East, and there Nathan would be waiting for her. That was all she had to do on her own, then she would have company.

She had not yet forgiven him for not telling her about Harry, but she didn’t have anyone else to take to Ikea, so she’d just have to ignore it until she had the energy to talk it through. Until then, she’d be passive aggressive and make Nathan feel bad for keeping it from her. Not the best way to go about it, she knew, but it would do for now.

The train arrived and Y/N waited patiently before she boarded it, letting the passengers that were already aboard get off before she started making her way on. Too anxious to sit down, Y/N took to standing by the pole just by the door she just entered, holding onto it with two other business men, neither who paid anyone on that train any attention as all of it were on the phone in front of them. Y/N reached for her phone then, typing out a message to Nathan that she was on her way. Or… at least she hoped she was.

“This is a Jubilee line train to Stratford; the next station is Canary Warf.”

Y/N let out a small sigh of relief, mentally patting herself on the back for managing to make it this far on her journey to Ikea Greenwich without getting completely lost. She felt her phone vibrate in her hand, and she immediately raised it to look at her new notification.

Nathan

Glad you’re finding your way around London, can be quite challenging

Nathan

Especially when you have a pea brain

Nathan

Like you do

Y/N snorted, started typing a text out right away as she held onto the blue pole for dear life.

Y/N

Scientists have been working for years to find a brain inside your gigantic head, seems it’s too small to be found, even under a magnifying glass

Because of poor reception, the text did not send, and the thought of being so low underground that she had trouble reaching her loved ones, suddenly scared her a bit. Y/N closed her phone and looked up at the tube map as the speaker overhead announced their arrival at Canary Wharf, people milling on and off the train.

Y/N saw something just before the door closed. She stopped breathing. It was only for a split-second, but she could swear she had seen something. She recognised the denim jacket, the hair, the smile. No matter the scenario, where she was, what was happening, Y/N would remember and make out her sister. She would recognise her anywhere. This was no different.

However, it had only been for a single second, not even that. The doors had closed before Y/N got to take a proper look. Right away, she closed her eyes tightly, willing her violently beating heart and pulse to slow down. It had just been a hallucination; it had not been real. I had just been a hallucination; it had not been real, and she continued to tell herself that until the train started driving away from the platform. Once she finally opened her eyes and looked out of the train windows, the darkness of the underground tunnels had surrounded them. Marcela was nowhere in sight.

Y/N leaned her forehead against the blue pole, feeling a slight layer of sweat over her cupid’s bow and forehead. The Marcela hallucination had affected her more than she thought it would have. Taking a deep breath, Y/N kept her eyes shut and her mind closed until she reached North Greenwich. Then, forcing the image of her sister away, Y/N walked off the train the second it stopped and almost ran for the exit and fresh air. Marcela was not alive; she had been dead for three years. She had been murdered three years ago. Neither hallucinations nor will would bring her back, it was time Y/N made her brain believe that as well.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 28th February, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache​ 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh​ 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

[specialagentsergio]

baby kiss it better

summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff

a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!

a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.

Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.

It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.

He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.

“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.

Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.

He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.

Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.

He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.

“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.

They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.

“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.

“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.

“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”

“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”

“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”

He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”

He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.

“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”

“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”

“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.

“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”

“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”

You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”

“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”

“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.

“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”

The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”

You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”

“Yes?”

“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.

You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.

“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.

He hums. “Better.”

“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”

Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.

“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”

“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.

“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.

“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.

“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”

“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”

“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.

Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”

“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”

“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.

Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.

“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.

Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.

A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”

Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.

“Found out what?”

“Found out about... you.”

Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”

“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”

“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.

“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”

“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”

You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”

“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”

He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.

“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.

“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”

Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”

“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.

Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.

“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”

The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.

Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).

It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.

“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”

Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”

“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.

“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”

You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”

He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.

“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.

Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.

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

tell me what you thought here!

[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor - Part 4

Summary: Agent Walker continues your training.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 3.8k

Warnings: smut, Dom/sub dynamic (m Dom, f sub), dégradation kink, praise kink, slapping, rough sex, orgasm control, I think thats it?

Authors note: Not beta read, only edited by me. There will be errors, my apologies.

Masterlist

Part 3 Part 5

The Instructor Part 4

August took you to the surveillance room. The operation had the whole ninth floor to work from, you didn’t know how the CIA was able to pull off such a requisition, but you knew not to ask questions. Chances were, even August didn’t know how that was done.

Agent Thomas was there with two other Agents and although they were both men, they were so opposite in nature and appearance you wondered how they could possibly work together. One of them seemed to radiate constant joy and good humour, while the other seemed dour and uninterested in anything. You receive a handshake and a welcoming smile from Agent Ortega and got a short nod from Agent Turner. Despite August introducing you by your name, since Agent Thomas had beaten you to them, your name was New Girl.

Apparently, there were two more Agents you would meet when your shift finishes. The number of Agents on this case struck you as odd. Six agents plus August all in the field seemed overkill for any simple surveillance case. Four should be more than enough. Hell, you could probably do it with three.

Ortega was the agent you would spend the next 8 hours with, and you were relieved. You were confident you knew how to do your job, but since this was your first field assignment, you were nervous and Turner made it worse.

So did August, if you were honest with yourself. You found yourself playing with the golden circlet around your neck a lot and chided yourself for bringing attention to it. It was meant to be discreet but if you constantly played with it, eventually someone would notice. You frequently found your concentration lapse and you would focus on August instead of your job. He was becoming an obsession, he invaded your mind constantly. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, anticipating your next visit or, remembering your too few encounters.

During one such daydream, you caught Ortega staring at you, expectantly. You quickly realised it was because he had spoken to you but you hadn’t responded. “Sorry,” you say. “I tend to get really focussed on my work and block out other sounds.” You lie smoothly. Ortega waves away your apology and repeats the question.

You enjoy your time with Ortega, he was friendly and warm without being lecherous. Perhaps his simple wedding band helped to put you at ease. He doesn’t offer information about his partner and you don’t ask. You both eat a lunch of sandwiches made in the kitchen and while the work doesn’t stop, you and Ortega start chatting and you find yourself growing more comfortable with him. Even though he calls you New Girl, he doesn’t treat you like a rookie and you found your confidence increase as the day went on. You even found yourself sharing jokes with him.

However, an hour before your surveillance shift finished, August came back to the room requesting an update. As he comes in the door you were smiling, still getting over a laughing fit with Ortega. Although he shows no obvious reaction, you notice a slight tightening of his jaw. You keep the smile plastered to your face as you look away, but you know there isn’t a hint of a smile in your eyes.

August checks in with Ortega who reports the day’s events. He leans over Ortega’s shoulder resting one hand on the desk while the other held one side of a pair headphones up to his ear as he listens to some audio. You can feel August’s gaze boring holes into you, and you can almost hear him say, “Look at me, Pet.”

Slowly you raise your eyes and look at him. You had to smother a gasp. He wasn’t just staring at you, it felt like he was stripping you bare with his eyes. The fire is his blue orbs was scorching with desire. His gaze holds you captive, and you know if Ortega sees what was taking place, your secret would be out. Scandal at this point in your career would mean you were chained to a desk for the rest of your life, if you didn’t quit in frustration, which was usually what most people did.

But August doesn’t take pity on you, he knows the risks too and doesn’t avert his gaze. He licks his lips, drawing attention to his mouth. With a leering look he mouths, “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you tonight, Pet.”

You make a strangled noise and Ortega looks up at you started. “You ok, New Girl?” he asks.

You reach down and clutch your foot, slipping it out of your shoe. “Yeah,” you say, hiding your face while you rub your foot. “Just a cramp.”

August ignores the situation and keeps listening to the audio. You avoid looking at him and he leaves a few minutes later. Even after he is gone, you still feel your ears and cheeks burn and you doubt you will be able to regain your concentration. Then you receive an email from August that simply reads “8 pm.” The rest of your shift is a write off.

Not long before eight pm you stand nervously outside August’s apartment. With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You feel tipsy, you can’t think straight, you’re giggly with nervousness and your legs are unsteady, ready to betray you at any moment.

“It’s open,” you hear August call from inside.

You take a deep breath in a useless attempt to settle your nerves and open the door. You see him sitting at his dining table reading from his laptop and nursing a tumbler of what looked like gin or vodka. He didn’t get up, just flicks his eyes up as the door opened, saw it was you and flicks his eyes down again.

“Lock the door,” August says and you do as he asks.

He is wearing his suit pants and button up shirt, but he had taken his jacket and tie off. His sleeves are rolled up and a few of the top buttons on his shirt are open and you can see tufts of his dark hair on his chest. His hair is still impeccably groomed, but a five o’clock shadow dusts his jaw. Even without the suit, he exudes authority, from the set of his jaw, to his posture, the only thing casual about him was his laxed attire.

“You’re early again,” August says. You still can’t tell if he thought being early was a good thing or not. Until he said otherwise you would continue to be early because you were sure August wouldn’t tolerate tardiness.

You half shrug in reply, but don’t say anything. You realise you hardly say anything in front of August, he intimidated you more than else did. He made you nervous in a way that was so intoxicating that you found it hard to even think of anything you wanted to say. Unless, he asked you a question, then you can hold nothing back. Perhaps it was because you know there is no one in the world that has more power over you than he does.

“Take your clothes off, pet.” August says, still not looking at you. “All of it this time, except your stockings and heels.”

You try to swallow, your mouth feels dry, but you don’t hesitate to obey, his tuts of disappointment that morning still lingered in your mind. Your hands shake as you undress and fold your clothes neatly. You aren’t sure why you feel like its important to fold your clothes, maybe it was because even when August was relaxing, he always had an air of clean order around him. Like he needed things to be just so. However, you know that’s not completely true, you have seen the chaos dance in his eyes, the thin veneer of civility he wore like a skin suit couldn’t hide all of his primal urges and tendency towards recklessness.

“Come sit next to me,” you hear August say the second you had folded your underwear and placed them on top of your clothes. You didn’t think he had been watching but he must have been, because even now he seemed to still be focussed on the screen in front of him. You feel a little silly that you had undressed like you would have at home, you didn’t even try to make it look good for him.

So, you make an effort this time, to show him you want to please him. You let your hips sway just slightly as you walk, the movements feel natural, yet seductive as you near him. You pull a chair away from the table but August stops you, putting his hand over yours. His fingers are warm on your skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

“Not there,” he says.

You walk around to the chair on the other side of him, but August stops you again. “Not there.” He looks at you, then with a small movement of his head and a smirk, he indicates the floor. “On your knees, pet.”

You’re shocked and before you can stop yourself you say, “On my knees?” You look at the rug under the table. It was fairly plush looking and soft so your knees wouldn’t hurt. You wondered if he wanted you to take him in his mouth again, you couldn’t think of another reason he would want you on the ground.

“Yes,” August says, with little patience, but his smirk holds. He must find your bemusement funny. “Now.”

You slowly sink to your knees next to August, you feel a little humiliated, but you are curious to see where this was going. August lets out a content hum as you obey. The sound makes you smile and you look up at him, his smirk now looks more like a smile and he pats your head. “Good girl.” He praises. All thoughts of humiliation left you as those two words warm you. August places his large hand on the back of your head and guides it to his thigh.

Again, you’re confused, until you feel his hand stroke your head. He pats you, soothing himself as he finishes his work. He occasionally lifts his hand to do some typing and you find yourself watching his hand impatiently until it is returned. Occasionally he touches your collar, running his fingers along it, as if reminding himself that you as his. Sometimes his fingers slide up and down your back, with long tender strokes that make you break out in goose bumps and when he makes you shiver you hear him hum with satisfaction.

Eventually you hear August give a big sigh and he stretches his neck before closing the laptop and moving it out of the way. He takes a last swig of his drink before putting it aside as well.

“Pet,” August says. You look up at him and he gives his head a little jerk again and you stand up. He looks you up and down, his eyes seem critical as he inspects you, but you know he likes what he sees because his tongue licks his lips before he bites his bottom lip.

August guides your leg over his and you stand in front of him now, your legs on either side of his and your bottom rests on the table. You feel exposed while he continues to study you, and you want to close your legs as you see his eyes linger on your bare slit. You know he would see the slick wetness of your arousal, you could feel it on the inside of your thighs. You close your eyes, a little embarrassed by your obvious display of desire.

August starts to run his hands over the outside of your thighs, hips and waist and back again, while he leans in and kisses the soft skin of your belly. You involuntarily giggle and your hands reach for his head as his stubble tickles at your sensitive skin. Still smiling he takes your hands in his, pulls them behind your back and holds both of them in his huge paw. He returns his kisses to your tummy, but this time they are bigger, wetter and you can feel his tongue lick at your skin as he does. You try not to wriggle, you try and hold still for August, but his teasing touch is too much and you find yourself squirming as he plays with you.

Between kisses he says, “I think its time I got to know you better, Pet.” You feel the heat rise in your body and you feel your heart beat everywhere. God, he has barely even started and you were so ready for him. “Time I explored you.” His eyes looked up at yours as his tongue slid up your body and over your nipple briefly. He held his face in front of your breast, letting his breath tickling your hard bud. “Time I tested your limits.” He takes you in his mouth, sucking on your nipple, and letting his teeth graze you, your body shuddering with pleasure.

Looking up at you August’s voice is suddenly serious, “If you need me to stop, say Red.”

“Red to stop,” you repeat, letting him know you understand.

Letting go of your hands, August lifts you by your waist and sits you on the table. “Lay down, pet.” He says, pushing against your shoulder. He lifts your legs so that your heeled feet rest on his thighs. You moan, and want to draw your knees together, but you feel his hands on the inside of your thighs pushing them further apart. You are completely on display for him, you can hide nothing as he continues spreading your legs. You shut your eyes, tight. Your mind and body were in conflict. You were on fire, hot with lust and need, but your mind wanted to say no, to stop, you couldn’t stand the embarrassment.

“Spread your lips wide for me, pet. I want to see your cunt dripping wet for me.”

You shake your head, you can’t do that. It was too much. Already so exposed and naked, the thought of holding yourself open to him was too humiliating. “Please August,” you murmur “I can’t.”

The loud smack against your breast takes you by surprise. You hear the noise before you even register the pain. “August,” you cry. Your hands reach up, covering your breasts, and you try to rub the sting away.

“Hold yourself open. I want to see inside you.” August’s voice is low and firm, not angry, just stern. You lift your head to see him, he tilts his head and his whiskered lip curls in a cruel grin, almost like he was daring you to say no again.

Laying your head back on the table and squeezing your eyes shut, you move your shaking fingers down to your slit. You’re so wet and so aroused you struggle to hold your swollen petals apart. You hear August’s breathing start to quicken and his voice is barely above a whisper as he says, “Good girl.” You feel a finger slide teasingly over your exposed core and despite your shame your hips roll in desire. “You have such a pretty wet cunt, Pet.” His finger sweeps up your slit, his rough pad pausing on your clit. You gasp as he does, and a low moan escapes you parted lips.

August chuckles, “You’re very responsive, Pet. I like that.”

His finger moves back to your entrance, and with agonisingly slow movements he pushes his finger into you. You feel yourself clamping down on him already, you’re so desperate to be filled. Your hips start to rock as he curls his finger inside you, searching for your spot.

“Oh fuck,” you cry when he finds it, you unconsciously try to curl up into a ball as every muscle in your body contracts. Your hips move faster now, and you eagerly beg, “Please August.”

“You are an impatient little slut sometimes, pet,” August says as he lays an arm over you, stopping your undulating hips. “I think patience will be your next lesson, but lucky for you, today I want to watch you cum.”

Without warning, August pushes a second finger inside you. You cry out as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. You were so close to coming, your whole body felt pulled tight like an elastic, ready to spring apart when the tension got too much. Your fingers start to hurt as you hold yourself open. Even your fingers feel tight, ready for the release of your orgasm.

Your thighs start to tremble and you feel the warm wave start to rise from your toes. “Are you about to come pet?” You barely hear August through the fog bliss you’re feeling as his fingers dance inside you, coaxing you to your peak.

“Yes,” you say through your moans.

“Ask permission,” August says.

You’re so close you can’t make sense of his words. “What?” you ask.

“Ask me if you can cum. This is my cunt pet, I will control when you cum. Or I can stop now.”

You understand that threat, “No, no, please don’t stop.” Panting, and breaking out in sweat you say, “Please August, can I cum?”

“Yes, my needy little slut. Cum for me. Now.”

And you do. You don’t know if it was because he told you to or if it was because you were so close anyway, but when he said now, you felt a wave of warmth flood you. Your body pulsed and your core milks at his fingers and they keep hitting your spot. It feels like your orgasm lasts for an age and even as you come down from your high, you tremble in little after shocks.

You are in such a haze you don’t notice August removing his fingers until you feel both his hands on your knees, pushing them up and out as he stands. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he gives them a tug. Your ass is barely on the table and in your malleable state, you feel like you’re going to fall off, but he holds you there.

There’s a new sensation at your core, and you groggily sit up, resting on your elbows. You see August, cock in hand lining himself up. You whimper, not yet, you think. Augusts lifts his eyes and you’re caught once again in his piercing blue eyes. His shows you his teeth and grabs your throat as he impales you with his cock.

You would have thought that you would adjust to his size quicker after the euphoria of your orgasm, but you were wrong. You feel yourself reluctantly stretch around him, and despite the pain, as he fills you, tears you apart, it feels good, he feels good.

August pulls you up by your throat, and you wrap your legs around him for stability. You think he’s going to kiss you, but he studies your every facial expression, listens to every little moan as he starts to fuck you. Still feeling weak, every thrust from August throws you, his firm grip on your throat was the only thing stopping you from falling back on the table.

“You look so good, pet,” he grunts at you through his gritted teeth. “You look like a slut, with your pretty mouth moaning for more.” He leans in close to you, and growls into your ear, “But you’re not just a slut, pet. You are my slut.”

You cry out as he says it, his claim of you relights the fire between your legs and you start moving with him, trying to fulfil the growing need inside you. You grasp his shoulders, holding onto him as he keeps whispering in your ear, “You greedy girl, you want to cum again don’t you?”

“Please, August,” you say. He raises his head and sticks two fingers in your mouth, pushing them in deep, almost making you gag. As you build to your peak so does your boldness and this time you find Augusts eyes. You run your tongue around his fingers, before starting to tease them and suck on them.

August snarls as he watches, and increases his pace. You want to cum again, but you don’t want to stop sucking his fingers. But then August breaths a curse, “Fuck.”

You couldn’t hold it off now, you say around his fingers, “Pease August, can I cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” August is as lost as you are and as you fall over the edge, and your pulsing walls grip his cock he thrusts into like he wants to tear you in two. On his last pump he lets out a deep rumbling growl, before his whole body shudders. You had never seen a man who came like him, the way he doesn’t hold back, the way he lets his primal urges over take him, the noises, all of it was so fucking hot.

August leans his sweaty forehead against yours while you both get your breath back. His hand still holds your throat but he moves it under your chin, and with the gentleness that always surprises you, lifts it and kisses you with soft lips and a caressing tongue. You kiss him back, matching his mood, softly licking at his lips.

With a final kiss, August pulls away and helps you to your feet. “Ok?” he asks. You nod and he chuckles briefly, “Who knew you had both a degradation kink and a praise kink?”

You look away from him, embarrassment filling you. August sees it and lifts your face to his again. “I fucking love it,” he says. “Much more to explore.”

You smile, still a little shy about it, but not as embarrassed. “Come,” he says and takes you to his bedroom where you both get in bed and you lay like you had that morning.

You stay awake, pretending to sleep, keeping your breaths long and steady. Eventually August drifts off, and you wait until he falls into a deep sleep.

You slowly get out of bed and creep over to the dining table. You lift August’s laptop from the chair he had left it on. You open it and enter the password you saw him use on the plane. Your hands start sweating as the machine connects to the CIA network. You think you hear a noise and you look behind you, but you can see or hear nothing.

You type August’s CIA log in and enter another password. You are worried about this one, you aren’t sure if you had been able to catch all of it. You release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding when the CIA logo fills the screen.

You feel eyes on you and the hair on the back of your neck starts to rise. Terrified you turn around and come face to face with August and his unforgiving eyes. “What do you think you are doing, Pet?”

Part 5

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