#but I also just now keep wondering how the fuck Aaron ran his business before Paddy

[breitzbachbea]

One thing Lovino must learn against his will in the Rake courtship AU, if he is at the O'Connel's, is how horny his cousin is for his husband's physique. Sometimes, Michele just wants to watch Harry do the physically intense process of actually pressing the printing press and twirl his hair. Harry's fucking yoked and Michele is so into it.

[vanillann]

unsolved (spencer reid x reader)

a/n: i was watching buzzfeed unsolved when i came up with this idea so enjoy. also i know it’s not exactly right but i didn’t feel like going back and watching the ep so.

warning: swearing, talk of cases, and sexual innuendos

word count: 3.3k

“Hi, Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved! We’re your host Ryan and Shane.”

I sat in a spin by chair between the two, my legs crisscrossed as I spun as fast as I could with Shane picking at arm.

“This is (Y/N)-“ when I heard my name I dramatically grabbed Ryan’s arm chair, smiling at the camera “a good friend of ours.”

“I had never spoken to either of them before today,” I spoke directly into the camera, the widest smile on my face when Shane gasped.

“She exposed us!” He pointed an accusing finger at me, Ryan slowly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“We need her for this case,” Ryan spoke mysteriously, as if he was in a mob of some sort.

“Yeah why is that?” I rested my elbow on the chair, placing my chin in my open hand as I looked between the two.

I would normally be shoved in the corner of my desk trying to avoid another weird product video. I didn’t want to wear another weight blanket that made me almost fall to the floor.

“We are doing a case today and from the gossip around the office, you’d be pretty familiar with it,” Ryan said nothing more as he held a picture up to the camera.

I looked to the viewfinder, my eyes going wide as I recognized the mugshot immediately.

“That’s the Reaper!” I pointed at the picture, grabbing Ryan’s wrist so I could get a better look.

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” Shane added, looking over my shoulder at the picture in my hand.

“No, the BAU worked in this case!”

I didn’t know my intense knowledge of BAU cases would make it around the office, but I suppose when you have a printed article of you standing with Agent Gideon and Hotchner word moves fast.

“You actually know a lot about BAU cases from what I hear,” Ryan almost smirked at me and I was close to attacking him.

“Yeah-“ I turned to the camera, thinking I should explain myself before people thought I was crazy “so when I was young my mother had a stalker.”

The room suddenly went from light and breezy to scary and stuffy, something I hated.

“Anyways, when my mother died he disappeared into thin air. I then got an internship here at Buzzfeed and suddenly I was being mailed pictures of myself.”

I felt Shane give a knee a quick squeeze, which made me smile but I said nothing about it.

“It is really bad, I’m not going into detail, that the FBI got involved. Gideon was my savior that day, Hotchner too. Since then I’ve kept up with their cases and Gideon still sends me letters even after he left,” I finished my story, smiling down at the case file Ryan held between his fingers.

“Enough sad story, let’s talk about murder!” I clapped my hand, Shane laughing at my excitement.

“Okay, before we get started with this video I would like to clarify this isn’t a normal unsolved case. While the case was pinned to a murderer, the real unsolved piece is what happened to him,” Ryan got into character, slowly opening the folder and reading off the first words.

“On June 5th, 1996, Tom Shaunessy was called to investigate a murder in Boston. It was a couple, laided into their chair with multiple gun shots to their head and torso-“

“Wait, in the car in Boston?” Shane asked.

“That’s what I just read,” Ryan replied.

I smiled to myself, already knowing the editing that would take place with the black screen and the blue and yellow words floating across.

“Isn't Boston super busy?”

“It has like 700 thousand people,” I spoke up, wondering what color my words would be in.

“How do you just know that?” Ryan looked over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows raised.

“If you saw the article I was currently writing you would understand,” I shrugged, moving in the chair so I could get a better look at the case file.

Ryan coughed, looking back down at the file to continue.

“When another set of murders came in, this time an older couple, Shaunessy, panicked as he found the first victim, Harry Goodwill, watching at the scene.”

“That was his signature,” I held a hand up like a child in class, smiling as I already knew what came next.

“Bingo!” Ryan pointed to me, smiling at my excitement.

“When this happened again, this time alone woman, Shaunessy called in the BAU-“

“You mean the love of (Y/N) life,” Shane cut in, smiling when I hit his shoulder.

“If you saw a picture of them you’d be in love too,” I shrugged, not thinking much about my words.

“Agent Aaron Hotchner joined the team and worked closely on this case with Shaunessy.”

“So this man just texted the FBI,” Shane started laughing before he could get his words out.

“I’m pretty sure there are rules,” Ryan looked over at Shane, looking at me when we tried to understand why he was laughing.

“I’m sorry, death shouldn’t be this funny,” Shane took a breath, making a hand motion for Ryan to continue. I started laughing at that, keeping it low so Ryan could continue.

“After 18 murders, there were no leads. The only consistent thing was he mostly killed couples and he left an item from his last victim at the crime scene. The BAU conducted that he was most likely killing the couple because of his own failed marriage or possibly one close to him.”

“So he started killing because he hated to love? I bet he hates Valentine’s Day,” Shane shrugged, his smile breaking across his face when I spoke up.

“Nah, he seems more like a Halloween type guy,” I shrugged, laughing when Ryan hit his elbow on the table.

“Okay okay, back to the good stuff,” I pointed at the file, laughing when Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Now victims 19 and 20 is where the story starts to twist. Amanda Bertram and George Foyet-“ I shivered at the name “we attacked by the Reaper.”

“Did you say attacked?”

“Yes, while Amanda Bertram was killed in the struggle Foyet manages to survive with serious injuries.”

“So this dude just accidentally forgets to kill him?” Shane almost yelled, reaching for the file to read himself but Ryan moved it back.

“He saw the ghost of Valentine and just ran,” I played on the joke earlier, which made the two laugh.

“The heart-shaped boxes of chocolate really made him shit himself,” Ryan barely got the words out, his laugh slowly turning into a cough.

“We shouldn’t joke about a murderer when we don’t know his whereabouts,” I laughed along.

“Wait, you’re telling me they lost him!”

“Yep,” I popped the “p”, smiling when Shane looked to Ryan who only shrugged,

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Was all he said before he continued the case.

“After this no new leads were found, it was later discovered that The Boston Reaper sent Shaunessy a note that if the investigation was shut now he would stop killing,” Ryan read the words off.

“I bet he ended the letter with “xoxo from your worst nightmare” with a lipstick stain,” I spoke without thinking, covering my mouth when I realized what I said.

“Oh he’d definitely come at you now,” Shane pointed at me, wiggling his eyebrows in the process.

“No way! The BAU will save me,” I shrugged, smiling as I imagined the team busting in the door at the last minute like they always did.

“Oh yeah the one dude, what’s his name,” Ryan started snapping his fingers as he thought over his words “Sp-“

“Spencer Reid!” I practically yelled the name, my smile only growing large at the mention of the handsome Doctor from the BAU team. While he didn’t work my case, I heard a little about him and he called my house phone trying to reach Hotch.

To say I was infatuated would be a small understatement.

“Him?” Ryan pointed at him, smiling wider at me.

“Who is this Reid boy and what are his intentions?” Shane folded his arms on the table like a father, looking between Ryan and I.

“I hope it's dirty,” I blurted out, covering my mouth again as I looked at the camera.

“Cut that out,” I started laughing when I heard Shane wheezing beside me.

“No we’re keeping that, that was quality content,” Ryan was laughing, pushing my chair slightly as I slowly joined in.

“I’m so grateful he works a busy job and will never see this,” I started coughing, which made Shane pat my back.

“Please take the obsession back to murder, please and thank you,” I nodded to the case file once everyone has calmed down.

“Okay okay, the cast went cold after that. No new murders ever appeared and the BAU left the case.”

“Spencer went to (Y/N)’s house,” Shane commented quickly.

“Until 2009 when a murder took place right outside of Boston, a couple killed on a hill. While this seemed like nothing at first, an eye was painted on the side of the door and glasses were found on the victim’s face. The glasses belong to Foyet,” Ryan read in his special voice.

“So the dude got bored and was like “Fuck my promise”?” Shane looked between both of us.

“Let him finish,” I patted Shane shoulder, looking at the file again.

“It was later announced to the public that Shaunessy was dead,” Ryan read, looking at Shane with raised eyebrows.

“Ohh, you should have led with that!”

Ryan rolled his eyes, going back to the file in front of him.

“Hotchner took up the case with his BAU team-”

“Spencer had to leave (Y/N)’s house early to get there in time,' ' Shane pushed my shoulder, my finger slowly starting to play with the little ring on my finger.

“I wish,” I spoke up, smiling at Shane when he shook his head.

“The team quickly gathered all the information possible, slowly putting the eye signature on the car with the sign off on the letter.”

“He didn’t sign it xoxo?” Shane asked, I shook my head sadly.

“Sorry to get your hopes up,” I spoke gravely, my mask cracking when Shane started smiling.

“I was readying for him to sign A like that show!”

I started laughing, my hand covering my mouth as Ryan tried to explain the show he was talking about.

“Why do they have to be pretty liars, am I pretty when I lie?”

“No,” I said the words so seriously I was shocked with myself. We all three started laughing suddenly.

I hadn’t been at Buzzfeed long, I had only made a few friends and I pretty much got dragged into the video when they needed a test dummy. This was my first video that didn’t make me want to rip my eyes out, I actually was having a great time with Ryan and Shane with the jokes and all.

“Okay,” Ryan coughed, finally reading the file again,” Many tried to brush it off as a copycat but Agent Hotchner refused to drop the case.”

“That’s my bestie,” I smiled, remembering the photo I had with him when the local news decided to take pictures of us standing outside the station. The photo was awkward and I doubt he even remembered my case but I didn’t really care.

“Then a few hours later an older couple, Arthur and Diane Lanessa, were found stabbed and shot. When the earlier victim, Nina Hale, was found on Diane's wrist, people started to worry.”

“Wait I thought he left the one dude glasses, who is still weird to me,” Shane spoke up again.

“That’s what I’m saying! He had his glasses yet he’s a copycat? Cops can be so stupid,” I rambled, still pissed about that to this day.

“The BAU split up to find Foyet, who went into hiding after his attack, to get more details. Agent Hotchner and Agent David Rossi found him staying in a house in Boston.”

“Why would you stay in Boston?” Ryan was the one to speak this time, his nose scrunched up as he thought it over.

“Right, like yes I almost died here let me stay,” Shane mocked Foyet, which made me laugh.

“Later that night The Reaper boarded a busy bus and killed the occupants of it. Many had theories on why he changed his MO but nobody will confirm or deny.”

“I think he was made at Hotch,” I spoke up. I had thought about this alot.

“Why do you think that?”

“He didn’t quite like Shaunessy, I don’t blame Shaunessy, but still. He stuck around even when he could have walked away,” I crossed my arms, slightly proud of my theory.

“You think he gave the same deal?”

“You don’t?” I looked at Ryan, his arms shrugging before he went back to the case.

“There was a cryptic message left on the side the bus along with the Reaper eye,”

“Cryptic message? Is this real?”

“Unfortunately,” I nodded, looking back to Ryan as he spoke.

“The BAU managed to decipher the code into a line of Foyet addresses-”

“Spender did it!”

“And how would you know?” Shane looked to me, raising his eyebrow at me with a little smirk.

“Because he had an eidetic memory and has an IQ of 187,” I spoke proudly, as if I actually knew the person I was talking about. Okay maybe I searched them on the internet one too many times.

“How do you know that?” Ryan asked, laughing at me now.

“Google,” I shrugged, laughing when Shane looked up from his hands.

“What does he even look like?” I held up my finger, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. I quickly unlocked it, placing my thumb print and moving on, and tapped the searched bar. I quickly typed in his name, thankful it didn’t pop up in purple because I couldn’t handle that much teasing.

“Here,” I placed the phone on the table, laughing when Shane moved closer.

“He has a Wikipedia,” Shane looked over his shoulder at Ryan and I, speaking like a kid on Christmas.

“You both have Wikipedia,” I shrugged, not seeing the appeal of the whole life on display.

“You don’t,” Shane pointed out. I jokily pouted, acting all sad as I looked up to the ceiling.

“We can make you one,” Ryan patted my shoulder laughing when I smiled.

“Can we say I’m married to Doctor Spencer Reid?”

Both nodded at the same time, my hand going over my hand and I laugh at their telekinesis response.

“Okay finished this case so (Y/N) and I can stalk Mr. Reid,” Shane patted Ryan shoulder and I lightly smiled to myself.

He seemed like nothing but I finally made some friends, I mean friends I could talk to outside of work.

“Once they arrived at Foyet house they found gallons of blood pulled from the back of the house.”

“So they killed him?”

“Just wait,” I held my finger up, smiling when Shane deflated slightly.

“Multiple police were attacked, even Derek Morgan with the BAU. The specific are not out to the public but a nurse claimed that The Reaper stole Morgan credentials,” Ryan read off the paper, smiling when Shane gasped.

“That’s insane, this case is insane!”

I laughed along with Ryan, all of ours eye scanning over the paper now and we waited for the next bit of information.

“After looking over past cases filed, the BAU were confused on why The Reaper would kill Foyet. Their tech analysis did research to induce that Foyet had multiple aliases, claimed he had them to feel safe from The Reaper, actually had multiple assault charges, and his parents were killed when he was six.”

“Oh my, he killed them didn’t he!” Ryan and I both nodded, Shane’s hands flying up to his hair as he looked between us.

“It was him the whole time! No way!”

“That’s what I said,'' I looked into the camera for the first time in awhile, it felt nice and easy with them. The video was coming easy unlike trying to do awkward yoga poses with strangers.

“They managed to trace everything back to Foyet, concluding he was The Reaper. After more research, Foyet’s phone was tracked to Roy Colson's house. A journalist would recently wrote an article on The Reaper.``

“This feels like a Scooby-Doo mission at this point,” Shane sounded out of breath, looking to the camera with wide eyes.

“We got some work to do now!” I jokily sang the theme song, making the two laugh lightly before moving on to the end of the case.

“The local police arrest Foyet at the house, Colson thankful survived. Foyet was taken to prison immediately after arrest.”

“I thought they lost him?”

“If you don’t let him finish,” I joked, Shane laughed as we finally let Ryan finish.

“Foyet was found in his cell later throwing up blood and convulsions. As being rushed to the hospital, the ambulance was ambushed and Foyet escaped. No more information has been released on the whereabouts of Foyet.”

“They really lost him!”

Shane was in shock at the discovery, my hand covering my mouth quickly before I answered.

“I bet he’s working for the FBI, they hire people when they’re too dangerous.” I tried my best to be serious about the theory but I knew my smile was peaking thought.

“He’s probably the BAU’s personal hitman!”

I laughed with Ryan, my chair had slowly moved closer to his as I kept leaning to see the case file.

“Where do you think Foyet it?”Ryan spoke into the camera, talking to the people that would watch this in a few weeks.

“I think (Y/N) should call her smarty-pants husband and ask,” Shane spit out his last joke before the video ended.

“Yeah, Doctor Spencer Reid please call me with information about the case.” I pointed into the camera like Uncle Sam and winked dramatically.

“He doesn’t have your number,” Ryan reminded me. I let my finger fall, thinking over my words before I pointed back at the camera.

“Email my business email,” I nodded. Shane and Ryan both hit my shoulder. both hands going to my arm to cover them.

“Say bye to our favorite guest ever,” Ryan waved in my face.

“Bye!”

I laughed as the video played on my laptop, laughing when my voice was replaced with light green words floating on the screen. I scrolled down lightly, reading a bunch of comments. I smiled when most were asking if I would ever be on another Unsolved.

My phone went off beside me, my hand reaching for it as I paused the video and moved to my email. I was waiting for an email about an article I was writing and I couldn’t stop hitting refresh.

Shane: i’ve seen two ship edits of (y/n) and spencer reid on my instagram already

Ryan: i saw an edit of shane fall out a chair

I laughed at the messages, the group chat the three of us had formed titled “The Reapers Bitches” never stopped as we had grown a close bond.

I heard the little ding from my laptop, also most screaming when I slammed the refresh button and screamed when I saw an email with a little unread dot beside it.

I didn’t think twice, pushing the email and reading over it quickly.

From: reidemail@gmail.com

Hello, this is Doctor Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I recently saw a video of you mentioning me and my team about a case we worked on a few years back. While I legally can’t share any details with you in this case, I would be open to speaking with others. Please email me back!

I was going to scream, maybe cry, maybe both at this point. I read the email two or three more times, trying to comprehend what I just read.

He did see, shit he did see it. I heard my phone going off beside me, my hand picking it up and typing without reading what they were saying before.

Me: Spencer Fucking Reid just emailed me

I let my phone fall to my lap, reading the email one more time.

“Thank you Buzzfeed Unsolved,” I whispered under my breath.

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[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 5)

Chapter summary: Aaron and the rest of the BAU finally make an arrest on their case, and you spend the weekend at Aaron’s.

Warnings: SMUT, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms

prev. chapter || masterlist || read on ao3

I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I’m wasted

And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you tasted

- Harry Styles, “Medicine”

 ~~~~~~~

The investigation was slow going, and every day when you got off the metro to get to your internship, you would see the undercover van that you knew had BAU members cramped inside, sitting and waiting for somebody, anybody , to slip up and say something incriminating. 

  It was weird being at work knowing that it was bugged, but it did wonders for your productivity. Whenever Chris or another one of your friends at the office started to ask you about your personal life, you were able to deflect it with a quick “Sorry, I’m in the zone right now, and I’ve really got to focus!” Usually, you had no problem sharing, but you really didn’t want the FBI to have audio evidence of your retelling of you double fisting vodka Sprites the night before until you passed out in your bathtub. 

  You also hadn’t seen Aaron since that first night together, which was almost a week ago now. The two of you had been texting back and forth pretty consistently, but you quickly found that there was a variable that wasn’t there two years ago - Jack.

You should have realized that, of course , Jack would be living with Aaron now, but it never crossed your mind. Jack used to live with Haley, and Aaron rarely brought him up to you. Now that Jack lived with Aaron, it made things a little more complicated. It also meant that you couldn’t just show up at Aaron’s doorstep whenever you were feeling lonely, or vice versa. After a long and awkward phone call, Aaron and you had both agreed that it was best that Jack just didn’t meet you, just in case he got attached.

  “For now, at least,” Aaron had added at the end, and holy shit, you did not have the time to unpack whatever the fuck that meant.

  Especially not with Chris throwing a crumpled piece of paper at you like the two of you were in middle school and passing notes.

  You held up the ball of paper with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? You have the desk across from me, you could have just said my name.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked you, pointedly ignoring your question. “Nina just got the Catan expansion pack and she wants us all to come over.”

  You pursed your lips as you thought about the offer. You did love game nights with your friends, but it was Friday night and you were still holding out on the possibility of Aaron maybe being free and inviting you over. It was almost pitiful how touch starved you were after just a few days of not being with Aaron.

  “I’m not sure whether or not I’m busy tonight,” you admitted, maybe speaking a little too loudly in the direction of the listening devices, just in case Aaron was listening in. 

  Chris gave you a knowing smirk. “Oh, are you waiting to hear from your secret lover?”

  “Okay, don’t use the word ‘lover’ again,” you groaned. “And what makes you think that it was anything more than a one night stand?”

  “Because when you’re not actively texting, you’ve been checking your phone every 20 minutes.”

  Your face turned red as you sunk into your seat, trying and failing to hide yourself. Maybe if you willed it hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow you whole, just to save you from the embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were checking your phone so often, but you also didn’t doubt it. 

  “Fine,” you grumbled, deciding that coming clean to your friends was going to be much easier than having to deal with them bringing it up at every moment possible. Besides, you didn’t have to give them all the details. “I will tell everybody all about him, but later . Not now.”

  Chris smirked as he leaned back in his chair, obviously proud of himself. You turned back to your work, mindlessly doing edits as you came up with a cover story in your head.

  Ran into an old friend, you could say. We got drinks, and then one thing led to another. That could work, except you came to the realization that you didn’t have any photos of Aaron, which would be suspicious if he was an old friend. You would have to look him up, which you were sure would just lead to a slew of FBI ID photos and news articles, which would mean that they’d just do some major googling of their own. You had avoided looking up Aaron, maybe in fear of what fucked up cases he had been involved in, but your friends would not hesitate.

  You could come up with something so ridiculous that they would just laugh about it. Yeah, I got a sugar daddy and he made me sign a nondisclosure agreement, sorry! You giggled to yourself just thinking about it. Aaron would probably be mortified at the thought. Although, he did wear a Rolex, so you guessed that anything was possible.

  “Holy shit, Y/N,” Chris mumbled, and you just gave a lazy hum as a reply, not really paying attention. “The FBI is here.”

  Your head snapped up at that . You whipped your head around so that you could face the entrance, and sure enough, the entire BAU team was walking in like they owned the place, with Aaron in the lead. They all had their FBI vests on, a sight which was way more attractive than it should have been. JJ and Reid stayed at the entrance to make sure nobody got out.

  “Everybody, please stay calm,” JJ called out, putting her hands up non threateningly. “Everything is okay, but we need you all to stay sitting exactly where you are.”

  A commotion came from the conference room and against your better judgment, you turned your head to watch what was going on. It wasn’t just one person getting arrested, it was every partner. You watched as Aaron spun Julian DuPont around by the wrist and pushed his face down on the conference table and oh, the FBI vest was nothing compared to watching Aaron arrest somebody.

  If anybody asked you if you got turned on during an FBI raid, you would vehemently deny it, but watching Aaron take out his handcuffs made your mind flash back to all those times you were in that same position, cuffed and bent over, completely at Aaron’s mercy. 

  Just as quickly as they came in, the BAU made their arrests and made their way back out. As Aaron passed your desk, his eyes met yours for a brief second and the corner of his mouth quirked up smugly. It was so subtle and quick that even you barely caught it, but you knew that look.

  At least you weren’t the only one in this situation with your mind in the gutter.

  Once the rest of the BAU was out of the building, JJ and Reid started the process of getting everybody else out of the office so that CSI could come in and finish looking around. When you passed by them, both agents greeted you with a warm smile, like the three of you were old friends.

  “Y/N, we’re going to need to get your statement before you go home,” Reid told you as you walked by, and you just nodded in confirmation.

  Once you got outside, you were immediately greeted by some agent named Anderson. He needed to get your statement on the work you did with the team, and you quickly gave him the PG version of the story. Your mind, however, was more focused on finding Aaron, who you knew had to be somewhere in the crowd. God, how long did it take to write down a simple statement?

  “I’ll take it from here, Anderson. Thank you.” 

  Aaron’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you spun around to look at him. You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Nice arrest, although I’m surprised. Mr. DuPont doesn’t even drive himself to work, I can’t imagine him waiting out to kill somebody.”

  “That’s because he hired hitmen,” Aaron explained. “The victims were all bribing judges to get their cases dismissed, and all of those dismissed cases looked really bad for his prosecuting record.”

  You shrugged, placing your hands on his hips. “Probably not as bad as prison, though.”

  That actually got a laugh out of Aaron, but he quickly composed himself as another agent walked past the two of you. “Yeah, he’s not going to be practicing law ever again.” 

  You opened your mouth to say something - maybe to invite him over? You weren’t totally sure - when one of the CSI’s came over to ask Aaron something.

  Aaron waved him off, telling him that he would be there in a moment, before turning back to you. “My house will be empty all weekend,” he whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was watching. “Pack a bag, come over.”

  Before you could even answer him, Aaron had already taken off. You made your way towards the metro so that you could run home before heading to Aaron’s. You had to fight the smile that was growing on your face when Aaron mentioned packing a bag. Not only was it an unspoken promise of a weekend full of sex, it also meant that he was planning on making room for you to keep some of your stuff at his house. The two of you were quickly falling back into your old routines, and it was weirdly comforting.

  When you got to your house, you made a split second decision to change out of your work clothes into a more casual outfit, although it didn’t matter much what you were wearing. It’s not like it was going to stay on for very long. As you packed your bag, you ordered an Uber, knowing it would get you to Aaron’s place faster than the metro. 

  Sure, you were a little impatient, but it had been so long since you had spent the night at Aaron’s place. It always intrigued you how different it was at his house than it was at yours. You were just staying in a shoebox apartment while you were in college - something liveable and temporary until after you graduated and got a job where you could put actual roots down. Your decor was fairly minimum, an assortment of knick-knacks and photos of your friends.

  Aaron’s place was different. It was a certifiable, adult house with framed art and random decorative bowls scattered around. All of his kitchenware was a part of a matching set and his living room looked like all the pieces were picked out by an interior designer. In a weird way, being at Aaron’s house gave you a glimpse of the life you could have in just a few years. Sometimes, it was easy to imagine that you were a part of his world.

  You couldn’t think like that, though. Especially not when he greeted you at his door with an eager kiss, pulling you in so that you were pressed against him.

  “I’m going to use this entire weekend,” Aaron mumbled against your lips in between kisses. His hands slid up your sides, pulling your shirt off almost immediately. “To thoroughly and completely ruin you, until you can only say my name.” 

  Your fingers tangled in his hair as you smiled into the kiss, your fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips, which only encouraged him to deepen the kiss.

  The two of you stumbled towards Aaron’s bedroom, only detaching your lips when absolutely necessary and leaving a trail of clothes behind you. You needed to be naked, to feel your bare skin pressed against his. His hands were impossibly everywhere all at once - running up your thighs, cupping your breasts, and gripping your hips so hard that it was bound to leave bruises. Your body burned everywhere he touched and soon all you could think about was him and how badly you wanted him to touch you where it mattered.

  Once you got to his bedroom, Aaron pressed you against the wall. You tried to grind against him, but he moved one of his hands onto your hips so that he could hold you in place. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking just enough to make your back arch. “You have no idea how often I thought of you this week. How hard it was to listen to you and not think about how you sound when you’re begging for me. How badly I needed you.”

  Your nail scratched down his back lightly, just enough to elicit a soft hiss from him. “Desperation is unbecoming on you, Aaron,” you teased, knowing that would get a reaction out of him.

  It worked. One of his hands stayed on your hip, pressing you firmly against the wall, while his other hand tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back so that your face was lifted up towards him. He kept you at an arm's distance as his eyes raked your body up and down hungrily.

  “I’m desperate?” he said scornfully. “Coming from the girl who is so needy that she couldn’t stay away from her phone for more than a few minutes, just waiting for me to want you. I could have called you at any time, and you would have dropped everything just to let me use you, isn’t that right? You’d let me do anything to you, just like the filthy slut you are.”

  You visibility gulped at his statement but you nodded obediently, which earned you a sharp tug of your hair.

  “Yes, Aaron, fuck ,” you gasped out. “I would have let you do anything at any time, just please…”

  Aaron gave you a predatory grin as the hand on your hip slowly made its way up your stomach until it cupped your right breast, thumbing lightly over your nipple. It wasn’t enough to get any real pleasure, but it made you moan all the same.

   “You did such a good job this week,” he murmured, looking at you almost worshipfully like he wanted to commit you to memory.  “I was going to give you whatever you wanted tonight. But maybe that would make me too desperate .”

  You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. “I- I-” you stuttered out. You couldn’t think straight.

  “I- I-,” Aaron mocked. “I thought you were a lot more intelligent than that. Come on, Y/N, whatever you want. Use your words. Unless pleasure’s turned you into a stupid whore.” He punctuated the last word with a light spank to your clit, which made you cry out and your legs instinctively try to close.

  “I want you to use your mouth,” you begged, arching your back in a pitiful attempt to create some form of contact. Your shoulders pressed against the wall was the only thing keeping you upright.

  “Where?” he asked all too casually.

  Your breathing was still shaky at best, but you forced yourself to make eye contact with Aaron. He looked back at you expectantly, waiting patiently for your answer.

  You slowly raised your hand to point to your left breast, which so far had been woefully ignored. “Here,” you said hesitantly, not sure whether or not he was going to tease you. While Aaron always gave you what you asked for eventually, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make you beg for it first.

  To his credit, however, Aaron immediately bent down and attached his mouth to your nipple, his teeth gently scraping over the sensitive flesh. His eyes never left yours, he wanted to watch your reaction. 

  Feeling more confident, you cupped the sides of his face and pulled him off you, and the sound it made was obscene. “I want you to eat me out,” you whispered, blushing as you said it. “I want to feel myself cum on your face, please .”

  Aaron smirked as he slid down to his knees, kissing all the way down your stomach. “Good girl, you asked so nicely,” he mumbled against your skin and it sent shivers up your spine. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him a perfect few of your pussy, slick with your arousal. “Look at you, dripping down your thighs before I’ve even started. Desperation is unbecoming on you, Y/N,” he mocked. He was using your words against you, and you didn’t even care. You just wanted him to do something, anything.

  Aaron ran a finger through your folds, ghosting over your clit. You hips bucked, desperate for more contact, but his finger was already gone. “Look at me,” he ordered, and as soon as you did, you were greeted with the image of Aaron admiring the wetness that was covering his finger. Then he stuck the finger in his mouth, smirking as he did, and you moaned out at the sight. “You taste so good, Y/N.”

  “Please, Aaron, I need you to- oh! ” you begged, but you were cut off by Aaron licking a strip up your center, still avoiding your clit.

  His hands came around and grabbed onto your ass as he got to work, lapping through your folds. You tangled your hands in his hair, rocking your hips against his mouth, craving more . His tongue teased at your clit, humming every once in a while in a way that sent vibrations throughout you. Without warning, he pushed two fingers into you curling them in just the right spot.

  As Aaron’s fingers pumped in and out of you, his lips focused solely on your clit. He flicked it once with his tongue before sucking, relishing in the way you moaned out his name. You tightened your grip in Aaron’s hair as your first orgasm hit you, your whole body shaking and a string of expletives leaving your mouth. But that didn’t stop Aaron.

  He added a third finger and replaced his mouth with his thumb on your clit. “You’re going to give me another one,” he practically growled. “And then I’m going to fuck you until you’re a whining mess. This is what you asked for isn’t it?”

  When you didn’t answer right away, he turned his head to the side and bit down on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, causing you to cry out. He sucked on that same spot for a little before dragging his tongue over the newly formed bruise.

  “Yes, I want that, Aaron,” you cried out. “I want you .”

  He reattached his lips to your folds with newfound vigor, making tight circles around your clit. His free hand snaked up your sides to your breast, pinching and twisting at your nipple. You continued to beg, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. All you knew was that you were so full of want , want for your second orgasm, and want for Aaron.

  Aaron fucked you with his fingers with ease, as if he had all the time in the world. You ground down on him again, chasing your orgasm the best you could. Your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, but you needed more. You opened your eyes, only to be met with Aaron’s blown pupils, eyes full of desire. You could almost feel his smirk as he wrapped his lips around your clit and pulled .

  The heel of your foot dug into his back as you cried out, your second orgasm twice as intense as your first one. Aaron’s fingers kept pumping into you lazily, and even your panting couldn’t cover the filthy sounds it was making. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs.

  Aaron slowly removed his fingers from you and lightly swiped them over your clit once more as he stood up, which almost made you completely lose your balance, a sob tearing from your mouth.

  He held his glistening fingers in front of your mouth and you opened obediently, moaning as you tasted yourself on him. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, making sure to clean every trace of you off him.

  Aaron removed his fingers from your mouth. “Do you have one more in you?” he asked, and it was softer than you were used to. “It’s okay if you don’t. We have all weekend.”

  “I need your dick in me,” you said in lieu of an answer. “Please, please fuck me.”

  Aaron pulled you to his bed and you all but collapsed onto your back, your legs still shaking from your back to back orgasms. Aaron crawled on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, all the way from your stomach to your mouth.

  “You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. All of his movements were gentle, bordering on caring. “Yelling out my name so that everybody can hear that you’re mine .”

  He pressed into you slowly, his first few thrusts shallow, and you could see that it was taking all of his willpower to keep teasing you like this. You dragged your nails down his back, not caring if it left marks on him.

  “Aaron,” you whimpered, bucking your hips to try and get more movement. “Please fuck me. I need more.”

  Aaron was always good at giving you what you wanted.

  His hips snapped into you harshly, and you had to attach your lips to his shoulder to keep from screaming out. Aaron thrusted into you hard and fast, wanting to feel every inch of you. He stretched you in all the best ways and your back arched off the bed. You were holding on to Aaron like a lifeline, and all he could do was grunt out your name over and over, repeating it like a prayer. 

  Your third orgasm came fast, spreading through your body like a wildfire, and you could feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the overstimulation. Aaron’s thrusts became more desperate and harsher as he felt you squeeze around him. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his breathing ragged and you could tell that he was so close-

  “Cum for me… Fill me up,” you purred into Aaron’s ear, and that’s all it took for him to finish, holding himself deep inside you as his warmth filled you. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath. You brought your head up to kiss Aaron, slowly and deliberately and filled with… something . You couldn’t figure out what it was yet.

  Aaron pulled out of you slowly and flopped onto the bed next to you, but he reached over and held your hand. The two of you laid like that for several moments, giving yourselves time to come back down to reality. Finally, Aaron rolled on his side to check on you. You admired the flush on his body, especially as it rose to his cheeks and made him look like he was practically glowing.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your hand. “Can I do anything?” 

  You turned your head to smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze, before sitting up. Aaron was always so careful about aftercare, which you were immensely appreciative of. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m just going to go to the bathroom. A UTI might ruin the mood,” you joked.

  When you returned, Aaron was already in a pair of pajama pants and sitting in bed. He had also laid out one of his shirts for you, which caused your stomach to do flips. Despite the fact that you actually did pack pajamas, you chose to wear his shirt. You could feel his eyes watching your every movement as you made your way back into bed, leaning back against the headboard.

  Aaron placed an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, catching his lips in another kiss, this one soft and sensual. You placed your hand on his bare chest as the kiss deepened, and Aaron’s fingers ghosting over your skin sent shivers down your spine.

  “So,” you murmured against his lips. “What are your plans for me this weekend?” It was partially a joke, but you wanted to be as prepared as possible for just how sore you were going to be on Monday after an entire three days of being thoroughly wrecked by Aaron.

  Aaron’s lips curved up into a smile as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, letting his lips linger for just a second too long. “Hm, we can play it by ear. Although, I was thinking Indian for dinner tomorrow night?”

  You were too old to get butterflies, but there was something so soft and so sincere in his reply that it made your stomach do flips. Aaron yawned, probably not even giving a second thought to his reply, and pulled you in closer to him. 

  “Yeah,” you conceded, closing your eyes. “Indian sounds good.” You could deal with the butterflies later.

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #19

#19. “Does your life revolve around embarrassing me?”

“Aaron, I need a favor.”

His boss, Rich, catches him as he’s arriving for the day, shuffling a few piles of papers on his desk as he waits for the clock to strike 8. Not a moment before, not a moment after, he thinks. Their shifts are carefully timed, every minute on the clock accounted for. The budget is tight; Aaron’s heard the rumors, questioning of why Ambassador Prentiss needs the amount of security she has. Whispers of cuts have become more and more frequent over the last few weeks. He’s grateful to still have a full schedule of shifts. Others haven’t been as lucky.

“Sir?” Aaron asks as evenly as he can. It’s about to be a long day and from what he’s learned in the months of working there, visits from Ambassador Prentiss’s head of security typically entail some special assignment, one he didn’t sign up for, but is volun-told for. “Is there something you needed?” He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he needs a good letter of recommendation when he ultimately puts in his two weeks sooner rather than later. He has his eyes on something a bit more ambitious, potentially the FBI. He’s already started the grueling application process.

“A big favor.” Rich sounds slightly out of breath, as if he ran the whole way to his office, judging by his red face. He looks annoyed, his face a little pinched, etched with a few more lines than it had the first time they met. Aaron still isn’t quite sure what makes his job so stressful - the Ambassador’s residence runs like clockwork, and now that it’s fall and things have settled down, it’s been relatively quiet.

“I need you to drive to New Haven this morning. I’d ask Harris to do it, but he called off sick and we’re short-staffed already.” It’s the way he says it that Aaron knows he just learned the news too, as if trying to coordinate logistics in his own head.

New Haven. Fuck, Aaron thinks, briefly closing his eyes. What he wants to say is Harris called off for a bachelor party in Ocean City and to find someone else. Instead, he sinks into his desk chair, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. Driving to New Haven can only mean one thing, and while he’s almost certain no one knows what happened over the summer, he can never be too sure. “New Haven, Sir? This morning?” He glances at the calendar on the wall - shit. It’s the coming weekend before Thanksgiving -more traffic is all but a given, and it also means Emily will be home for almost a full week.

Then he remembers he’s scheduled to work doubles most of the holiday week.

Great.

“Ambassador Prentiss called me to her office an hour ago. She’s asking that Emily be driven home from Yale tonight. I don’t know the details, but she was pretty persistent that one of us would go up there and get her. My guess is she got into some kind of trouble, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Aaron tries to hide his annoyance, and more so the slight tug of worry in the pit of his stomach. “What are you talking about? What kind of trouble?” He does the math in his head - it’s  a five hour drive to Connecticut without traffic. There and back will be at least a twelve hour day, if not more.

“I don’t want to speculate, but the last time this happened, she got caught underage in a bar and nearly got arrested. We never found out exactly what happened, but from what I heard, it wasn’t good.”

Aaron grimaces; it’s exactly like Emily’s mother to sweep something like that under the rug and completely ignore the bigger issue at hand. From what he’s learned, it’s been a familiar pattern for years.

“The Ambassador approved time and a half for whoever makes the trip. I know you said you need the -”

“I’ll do it,” Aaron says quickly before he can think too much about the circumstances, wondering just what could be so pressing at such a last minute.  His situation with Emily is complicated, one that should have never even become a thing in the first place. But it did, and even three months after she’d left, she remains at the forefront of his mind most days, a constant reminder of those hot summer nights in mid July.

There’d been nights at his apartment and early mornings in her room; behind closed doors he’d fallen for her. She’d careened into his world completely unexpected, a welcomed change from his familiar pattern of soft-spoken, yet well-intentioned blondes. Emily was the exact opposite. There had been secret meetings tucked amongst the endless gardens, dinners in dive bars and a few trips to nicer restaurants under the city lights when his paycheck allowed.  It was exhilarating and all consuming until it wasn’t, when it all came to a screeching halt a few weeks later.

They haven’t talked since the night before left for New Haven. The night ended with an argument, along with tears (hers) and a ridiculous sense of guilt (his) as he dropped her off just outside the gates of the mansion. Yet she’d been the one to end it, explaining through thinly veiled frustration that it just wouldn’t work, that everything would change and none of this could continue. His pushback had only angered her, his attempts to assure her it could in fact work fell on deaf ears. And as she’d all but fled from his car, it was fear he saw in her face. Fear of possibility for what could be.

All of this, along with their months of silence, means he’s probably the last person she’ll expect to see outside her door. Aaron has a feeling she isn’t quite prepared for what is about to be a very unexpected visit. What he also knows is that neither is he.

…

It’s been awhile since he stepped foot on a college campus, and he doesn’t exactly blend in wearing a full suit and dark sunglasses in a sea of jeans and sweatshirts. He ignores the stares he gathers from the small groups of students all over the campus, finding her building with relative ease.

He nods a thanks to the girl holding the door open, quickening his pace just a little. She gives him a once over, lifting an eyebrow at his attire. “Campus security is the other way, you know. You look a little lost.”

“I’m in the right place,” he retorts quickly, brushing past her and up to the third floor. As he climbs the stairs with a slight burn in his lungs from the exertion, Aaron remembers Emily complaining about that three story climb over the summer, and the memory of her, warm in his arms, almost makes him smile. Almost. But she most likely has no idea he’s coming; it’s impossible to tell what her reaction will be. Anger? Indifference? But by now he’s standing outside her door, and it’s too late to turn back.

Aaron knocks three times, crisp and precise, then waits a few perfunctory moments. No answer. He knocks again, this time a little more insistent, and he hears a soft grunt, a muffled voice from behind the door. What he doesn’t expect is what he sees when the door swings open. A guy, about her age give or take, blinks away the confusion from his eyes, his defenses rising immediately. He’s clearly not expecting visitors, and Aaron, half expecting him to close the door in his face, briefly wonders if he has the right room.

319. It’s right, and this just got significantly more awkward, even as a small bubble of jealousy rises in his throat, one that takes him by surprise. “Who the hell are you?” Aaron asks, instinctively propping the door open with his foot.

“Name’s Rob.” There’s a cigarette in his hand; the room smells like an ashtray and slightly of stale wine, even though it’s the middle of the day. He flicks his eyes over Aaron’s suit and scoffs with an air of arrogance. “What are you, some kind of cop or something?”

“I’m here for -”

“Aaron? What are you doing here?” Emily suddenly pops up behind Rob out of nowhere, looking just as surprised, and slightly embarrassed as realization dawns on her face. “Tell me my mother did not send you here.”

Rob visibly tenses at the mention of the Ambassador. “Your mom’s got the cops chasing you now? I thought you said she wouldn’t find out about  -”

Emily’s cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes, taking a sideways look at Aaron. “He’s not a cop, Rob. He just works for her.”

“Basically the same thing, right? You said she basically had her own secret service. You know this guy?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighs with frustration. “I know him.”

Aaron shifts from foot to foot, staring between them both. Being here suddenly feels invasive; he wishes he would have never said yes to this in the first place. It’s clear nothing has changed between Emily and her mother, and everything has changed between the two of them. She’s clearly moved on. Maybe it’s best to make this as detached as possible - a business transaction, no emotions or feelings. “I’m your ride home. Start packing.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Emily narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Just following orders.” He scans the room - the counter is littered with empty cans and cups, a deck of cards strewn over the desk in a corner, an ashtray full of cigarettes. “How soon do you think you can be ready to leave?”

“Leave? What about tonight?” Rob cuts in. “Brian and Dan got bottle service tonight. I thought you were going to bring that hot friend of yours. Dan wants to meet her.”

“Bottle service?” Aaron says incredulously, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Rob’s face. “You do know she’s underage, right?” He doesn’t have to look at Emily to know that is enough to set her off, and she shoots him a look that could cut glass.

“Listen man,” Rob begins, swaying on his feet. “I don’t know who you are but -”

“I’m  the guy who's going to kick you out-” Aaron begins tersely.

“Just go, Rob. Please just … go.” Emily snaps, presses her fingertips to her eyes, the heat rising to her face like two blood red stains on her cheeks. “I’ll … I’ll call you once I figure this out. Just go without me.”

“Or just ditch your babysitter.” He scoffs but still leans in closer, all but towering over her. Aaron doesn’t miss the way Emily recoils when Rob kisses her cheek. He reminds him of the type of guy who would go from her room straight into another girl’s without a second thought, say all the same things and no one will be the wiser. But the door shuts, leaving them alone for the first time in months. Aaron shoves his hands in his suit pockets and stares out the window as Emily sneers.

“Does your life revolve around embarrassing me now?”  she huffs, looping her hair behind her ear, shoes obnoxiously clunking against the floor as pulls a suitcase from under her bed. “Because if so, you’re doing a real bang-up job.”

“No. My job,” he says, placing emphasis on the word, “is getting you back home like I was ordered to do.”

“So they sent you this time?” She sighs, dumping some empty cups into the trash. “Why am I not surprised?” It’s mid afternoon but she looks exhausted, and Aaron wonders if she even got any sleep at all the night before.

“I’m just following orders,” he says again, following her with his eyes as Emily starts tossing clothes into a bag. There’s no thought to her packing process; she opens drawers and slams them shut, pulling out clothes with a little too much force.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks a little more softly this time, keeping space between them both.

“No.”

As expected.

“You can tell me, you know.”

“Nothing happened,” she says crisply, zipping her suitcase shut. But she doesn’t look at him, which confirms that something definitely happened.

“Then why am I here?”

“Aaron,” Emily says almost teasingly, as if any memory of the last time they spoke has seemingly evaporated from her mind. “This is certainly not the first time my mother has sent one of you up here to come get me for some reason or another. It certainly won’t be the last.”

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for her to go to.” From the tone of his voice it’s clear he doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You have met her right? The only person my mother cares about is herself. And her career. She doesn’t care who else is inconvenienced by that.”

He can’t argue with her, and decides to drop it for the time being. There’s a five hour car ride awaiting them; plenty of time to peel her walls down. “If we don’t leave soon we’re going to hit rush hour,” he says patiently, checking his watch. “The sooner we get back, the better.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, finishing the last of her packing. But finally Emily meets his stare, and for the first time since he arrived, offers a smile. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.”

This time, he almost believes her.

...

“So, who’s your friend?” Aaron asks casually, a half hour into their five hour trip. She’s hardly said a word since taking the passenger seat; her only request was to stop at the gas station for coffee and a pile of sugary candy that she’s started to work her way through. “Rob?”

His question gets the shortest of laughs from Emily as she tips her sunglasses down her nose. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.” Yet she gives nothing else, and he knows he has to push her a little harder.

“He’s kind of an ass,” Aaron says without taking his eyes off the road. “You hang around him a lot?”

“Why?” She challenges, less out of anger rather than amusement. She’s known this question was coming since the minute she saw him standing in the door. “Are you jealous or something?”

He says nothing, only turns his head to stare at her. “Answer my question.”

“Sometimes.” Emily picks at the seam of a bag of peach rings, her eyes on her lap. “You’re not wrong, though, in your assessment.”

“And yet you still hang around him?” He doesn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. “Seems like bad news. Is he the reason why I’m here?”

“You’re worried,” she says quietly, crossing and recrossing her legs. “I can tell.”

“Of course I’m worried, Emily. I’m fucking worried to say the least. Can you blame me?”

“You shouldn’t. It’s under control.” Her silence is telling, an indicator that the conversation is over as she pointedly turns to face the window. Aaron swallows in frustration, knowing he pushed a little too far.

Connecticut turns into New York, the miles already starting to blend together in the tense quiet. As the traffic thickens and the SUV comes to a stop, the George Washington bridge looming in the distance, Emily speaks for the first time in more than an hour.

“Aaron?” She says hesitantly, her bottom lip between her teeth with worry. “Can you keep a secret?”

[imagineaworlds]

Rules & Roses

“you’re late”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2046

“You’re late,” I said to him while grinning. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from laughing so that he could focus on running up to me.

Aaron Christopher Hotchner was his name. Though I had learned a lot about him since we officially started talking on that cold Tuesday morning, I still thought of him as that six foot Nordic God. He hated that nickname, though. No matter how many times I used it, he never gave in, but I liked teasing him with it. Only two weeks had passed since we first started talking, and yet it seemed like we knew each other a lifetime. More than that, actually. My worries of talking to a stranger faded quickly the more we passed each other on the trail, then would chat as we walked to our cars. It was a nice, unspoken ritual we had. But it always started like this. No matter if it was warm or cold, sunny or cloudy, busy or quiet, we met at that park bench at the top of the U-turn. Usually, we ran beside each other, or he would be waiting up for me. This time, I was waiting on him. That wasn’t usual.

“How am I late?” he asked.

I looked at my watch. “It’s 7:17.”

“So?”

“You never reach the bench later than 7:15.”

Aaron smiled and put his hands on his hips to help him catch his breath. “Who’s stalking who now?”

“I never said you stalked me. Those are your own words.”

“Ha. Ha.” He panted for another second. “My son woke up late, so I got here late.”

I froze. During our little conversations here and there, he had never once mentioned anything about having a family. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, he seemed more than happy to flirt with me, and he never, ever said anything about having a son. This whole time, I thought he was an available man. I would have never flirted with him if I knew that he was taken, that he had other promises and responsibilities besides meeting me, practically a stranger, in the park every morning. Of course someone like him would have been snatched up by someone else. Of course the one person I saw myself potentially getting involved with since moving to D.C. was the one person I couldn’t have. My fucking luck, right? I was so stupid. How did I not see it before? Why did I get involved in all of this in the first place? I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to a stranger, and I broke that promise for him. I promised that I wouldn’t let my desperate urge for sex and love blind my ability to read social queues and dictate what was good and bad for me— and I fucking broke that promise. I saw him— I felt his hands on my hips— and everything I had learned from past experiences flew out the window. For a moment, for a blissful, wonderful moment, I forgot about Lauren because I had all of my focus on the Nordic God. A Nordic God that was taken. How fucking ridiculous.

Aaron sat down next to me. I scooted away, and he immediately noticed. A couple of days ago, I asked him what his job was at the FBI, and he told me that he studied the behavior of serial killers in order to find them. When he cracked a joke that his ability to “profile” serial killers was a curse that affected every aspect of his life, I asked him if he could profile me. Profiling was putting together all of the behaviors he spotted in someone in order to tell what kind of person they were, are, and could potentially be. Aaron laughed. He said that he had already profiled me the day we met. “Your eyes were on my friend the entire time,” he said. “Her name’s Emily, by the way.” So, that had confirmed that it wasn’t Lauren I saw. Though I was somewhat relieved, I was also disappointed, and Aaron noticed. He asked me why I was staring at her, and I simply dodged a real answer by telling him that I thought she was someone else. His profiling skills seemed to tell him I was lying. Despite the fact that he knew I wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t pry. He never did. When I moved away from him on the bench, however, and he noticed, that was the first time I ever heard him get serious with me.

“What is it?” he asked me quietly and sincerely. I shook my head. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Why…” I hesitated for a beat. “Why would you keep flirting with me if—”

“My wife died years ago, Y/N. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

If I wasn’t embarrassed before, I was as red as a fucking tomato, and this time for all the wrong reasons. Originally, I had simply assumed that him having a son meant that he was still with someone. My first mistake. Then, I thought that it all meant that he didn’t like me, that he had been stringing me around for no reason, that maybe I was seeing between the lines. My second mistake. Now, I was embarrassed because I had made a complete fool of myself by tensing up at the thought of him having a kid— something I really didn’t mind, actually— and then I admitted that I thought he was flirting, all while practically pushing him away. I fucked this all up. Why was it that he made me trip over my tongue like this? I mean, he was always in my head since that first day we met and I felt his hands on my hips; and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him and impressing him. All of that had just been flushed down the drain. Any chance I had to keep being this happy and distracted had just disappeared because I had been stupid.

“I’m sorry.” I did a lot of compulsive apologizing around him. Because he made me trip over my own tongue, I always happened to say the wrong thing, so I constantly needed to apologize, which I could tell he found adorable, but I found it to be humiliating. “I didn’t mean to force that out of you.”

“It’s okay. It’s been so long, and I’ve had to tell so many people; I’m neutral about it these days.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to start feeling bad.”

“Sorr—” I caught myself before laughing. “That’s going to be a bad habit to break.”

“All habits are hard to break.” He shrugged, leaned back, and looked forward to make the feeling between us casual again. “New rule, no more apologizing.”

Part of getting to know each other was making rules in order to make ourselves comfortable. I didn’t pry about his work, he didn’t ask me any more about his friend Emily. I didn’t stare below his belt (a personal rule I made for myself that I never disclosed to him), and he didn’t stare too long at my breasts when I would wear a low cut or tight shirt (a rule he made for himself that went unsaid). The rules would come up occasionally, but only when we were sitting on that park bench surrounded by roses. The parking lot, however, was fair game. Because that was the last time we would get to see each other until the next day, which was never guaranteed since he traveled so much— just like Lauren always did— we both got to break our staring rules until we would get into our separate cars. This new rule about apologizing didn’t seem like just a roses rule, though. If I had to guess, Aaron was going to keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn’t  break this new rule.

I nodded. “Okay, fine. But, no more being late,” I said. He also nodded. “And, I need a 6AM warning every time you won’t be here.”

Aaron looked at me. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Phone,” I demanded while holding out my hand. Aaron urgently dug into his pocket, racing to grab his phone before I could change my mind about giving him my number. He was too chicken shit to ask for it, so I didn’t mind taking that first step for him. Afterall, it was the most I could do since I totally messed up by getting uptight about his son. Speaking of which, when I turned Aaron’s phone on, I saw a picture of him holding his son, both of them smiling ear to ear after what looked like a victory after one of his son’s soccer games. I felt myself melting. “He’s adorable.” He had blonde hair, which wasn’t like his dad at all, but the brown eyes, lips, and nose were all a mirror image of Aaron.

“His name’s Jack.”

“How old is he?”

“Nine.”

I smiled at him before looking back down to unlock his phone and put my information into the Contacts app. When I was done, I turned it off and handed it back to him. “There. Now you can text me at 6AM every time you know you’re not going to be here.”

“And what about… other than 6AM?” He was biting his lip again. I always knew that he was flirting with me when he would bite his lip like that. He was the professional profiler, yet he couldn’t have been more obvious. One would think that he knew how to hide his tells better than that, but he really seemed to suck at it. “Can I call you tonight, maybe?”

“For what?”

He hadn’t anticipated that I would nudge him back with a question. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. I giggled. “Is it too late to take my rule back so that I can say sorry for being too forward?”

“Yeah. It is. Sometimes it’s okay to be forward.” I stood from the bench, giving him the idea that it was time to go. He stood, too, taking my lead because he seemed like a lost puppy that needed to be told what to do. “I get off work at seven. You can call me for whatever it is you have on your mind any time after that.” I jumped on my toes to warm myself up, also testing to see just how long he could keep his eyes on mine and not one any other part of me that was a little more… distracting. “I’ll race you to the parking lot.”

“What happens if you win?”

“Who said there needs to be prizes?”

“The new rule I just made,” he said like it was a tease.

I squinted at him. “You can’t just make rules up for your benefit, Aaron.”

“Well, if you win, Y/N, I’ll stop making up random rules.”

“And if you win?”

I saw his answer coming from a mile away, but I still felt myself smiling when he said, “I take you out for dinner after our call tonight.”

“Deal.”

Aaron wasn’t prepared at all yet, but that didn’t stop me from beginning my dash down the path. Though I was inevitably going to let him win, I still had to put up somewhat of a fight to make his win believable. Aaron seemed to notice immediately. Before I could make it very far, he was already speeding past me, intent on winning so  that he could take me to dinner. Dummy. I wasn’t trying very hard to win. He didn’t seem to notice, though,even as we reached the parking lot where he claimed his victory. He slowed to a stop. As I caught up, he turned around and smiled.

“You’re late,” he teased me.

I rolled my eyes. “Pick me up at eight.” I immediately started making my way towards my car, which gave Aaron the chance to break his rule so that he could stare at me for a little longer than he was supposed to. “And don’t be late!” I called back to him.

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

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​  @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​ @absolutemarveltrash​ @bshelley322​

[sincerelyella]

RAMifications Chapter 2 -  Almost Is Never Enough

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella); Drake x Alyssa Devereaux

Song Inspiration: Almost Is Never Enough by Ariana Grande & Nathan Sykes

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me; Alyssa Devereaux was created by the brilliant mind of @burnsoslow​ and used with permission.

A/N: This entire idea came from Burnsy and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake x Alyssa. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia. This doesn’t follow much of TRR books, there is still a social season but not all of the players are present. Throw canon out the window! If you have not read unBEARable by @burnsoslow ​ (catch up here) I suggest you go and read that first. There are SPOILERS in this series!

Catch up here

Warnings: Swearing and some 🍋 - just a little.

Words: 3205 (it could be worse)

“Ella, I need you.”

Ella sighed with annoyance. “What is it Aaron? I’m off remember?”

She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry but the prince contacted us and ordered several bouquets to be delivered this evening.”

“So you guys need help getting the bouquets together? How long do you think? Couple hours? I still have some studying to do tonight.”

Aaron cleared his throat nervously. “No, we actually were able to get the bouquets done. But the prince specifically asked for you to deliver them.”

Ella’s brows furrowed in confusion. “The prince? Why would the prince-” Suddenly her eyes grew wide. Is Liam …

“Ella? Hello?”

“Umm, sorry, sure I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Thanks so much Ella, I’ll see you soon.”

Ella hung up the phone and let out a breath. It’s probably just a coincidence. She quickly changed out of her pajamas and put on some flats, jeans, and a plain black t-shirt. A quick look in the mirror to make sure she didn’t look completely haggard and ran out the door.

**

Liam was nervously pacing around in his quarters with a glass of scotch in one hand. This wasn’t too obvious right? He ran his other hand down his face and took a sip of his drink in an attempt to calm himself but it didn’t work. He had specifically told the staff that if someone were to come and deliver flowers tonight to escort them to the main ballroom and let him know.

A knock startled him out of his thoughts, he put down his drink on the kitchen island and went to answer the door.

“Your Highness,” a member of the staff said with a bow as Liam opened the door. “The florist is here with the flowers you ordered, sir.”

Liam nodded. “Thank you, I’ll be down in a minute.” He shut the door, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Liam reached over to open the door again, walked out into the hallway and headed for the ballroom.

**

Ella followed the palace staff member and rolled the cart of bouquets into the ballroom. This room is huge, no wonder he needed more flowers.

“His Highness will meet you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

Ella’s eyes wandered around the room, taking in the large crystal chandeliers and ornate gold crown molding.

“Hello again.” She heard his deep voice behind her, she turned and the breath she took in got stuck in her throat. He black dress pants, a white polo shirt that outlined his chiseled chest and loafers. Holy fuck. Ella’s eyes widened and wandered down his chest, down his legs and all the way back up to his eyes.

“Hi, uhh … Your Highness,” she stuttered, she attempted a curtsy and hoped she didn’t look like a moron. “You … are the prince I take it?”

Liam had an embarrassed look on his face and nodded sheepishly. “Yes, well I don’t really introduce myself along with my title, except to maybe foreign dignitaries,” he explained.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry about the other day, I almost ran face first into … the prince,” she said slowly, then felt horrified from hearing herself say it out loud and began to babble. “I’ve never actually bowed or curtsied to anyone before since we don’t have royalty in the States and … I’m just so sorry.” I wish the ground could just swallow me up right now. She felt the heat in her cheeks so she tucked her chin down and tried to hide behind her hat.

Liam noticed her starting to blush and hide her face; he chuckled and walked towards her. “I was the one that almost ran into you. Also, you don’t need to bow or curtsy, nobody is around,” he waved his hand to show off the empty room. “I ordered these bouquets for the ballroom and right outside the door. The flowers looked like they were … wilting.” Smooth.

“Oh!” Ella shook her head slightly to remind herself why she was there. “Yes, I can put these around the ballroom, if you like.” She busied herself taking a bouquet and looking around for where she can place it.

Liam studied her as she bent to pick up the flowers and walk around the room, the way her jeans fit tightly against her round ass and hugged her shapely legs. How her shirt wasn’t too tight … but tight enough to make his imagination run wild.

Ella continued to distribute the bouquets around the large ballroom with her and Liam making small talk, him helping her with placing them. Finally, the last couple bouquets that were to be displayed outside the ballroom doors were left. “Here, I can grab one and you can grab the other,” Liam offered and Ella nodded.

They both approached the same bouquet and grabbed it at the same time, her hands on the vase and his on top of hers. They both felt the instantaneous jolt in their hands as they touched and as their eyes met over the flowers their gazes locked. Ella’s mind went absolutely blank. She couldn’t look away if she tried. Her lips slowly curved into a small smile. “I got this one first,” she whispered.

Liam nodded, but his brain doesn’t register what she said. He kept his hands where they were, never taking his eyes off of hers. He unconsciously started to stroke her knuckles with his fingers. She’s so soft. His eyes dropped down to her lips and he licked his own. He watched as her lips started to move, and he realized she was speaking to him.

“Oh, my apologies, what did you say?”

She giggled softly and repeated her words. “I said I got this one first.”

Liam shook his head out of the daze he was in. “R-right,” he reluctantly let go of the bouquet and turned to pick up the other one next to it. They made their way out the double doors of the ballroom and he put one on one side while Ella placed the other one on the opposite end. They turned at the same time and somehow ran into each other. Liam grabbed Ella’s hips to steady her while she grabbed his upper arms.

“We just … keep bumping into one another,” Liam murmured. Her lips are right there. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Ella’s softly, sweetly, timidly. Suddenly it was over and he quickly pulled back and let go of her waist. It was so abrupt that Ella flinched at his reaction and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my God, I am so … sorry. Ella … I …” he trailed off. “I shouldn’t have done that, it was a mistake.”

“Oh,” Ella looked at the floor, trying to hide the hurt from showing on her face. She took in a breath, looked up and made eye contact with him. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, no harm done,” she gave him a tight smile. “I should get going, you have a good night, Your Highness.” Ella attempted another awkward curtsy and hurriedly walked away. God I looked like an idiot. Just keep speed walking, Ella.

She made it into the truck a split second before the tears started to fall. Fucking shit! She punched the steering wheel and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. She took a deep breath in, started the truck and pulled out of the palace driveway. Why am I even crying? I hardly know the guy.

**

Liam watched as Ella walked hastily toward the front doors of the palace and he put his fingers on his lips. What the actual fuck were you thinking? He let out a sigh and walked back to his quarters, deep in thought. The problem wasn’t that he kissed her, the problem was he wanted to do something more than just kiss her. Ever since he ran into her, quite literally, she had plagued his thoughts. He saw fireworks whenever he saw her, when she spoke he felt like he was swimming in an ocean of her. It’s like he couldn’t get enough. And when his hands were on her waist a few minutes ago, his self control slipped. What now? He still wanted to call and order flowers, have her deliver them. But he also saw her face after he told her it was a mistake to kiss her. She probably doesn’t want to see me. He shook his head, unlocked the door to his quarters and settled in for the night.

**

Drake and Alyssa walked through the palace hallway, carrying on light conversation just in case anyone was around to hear them. She was, by all technicalities, still a suitor in Liam’s social season. They had to keep their relationship a secret for now and it was killing them. The pair went on talking about Drake’s upcoming move and the new job that he would be starting in a couple weeks.

“Are you excited?” Alyssa squealed.

Drake gave her a side glance. “Sure, I’m excited to start a life outside of the palace. To not be known as Prince Liam’s best friend.”

“Also, to start life with your new girlfriend?” she whispered.

“Of course I’m excited about that,” he murmured. “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Just kiss?” Alyssa pouted, her bottom lip sticking out.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, as he stared at her mouth. “You know what that does to me Devereaux.”

Alyssa grinned wide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she taunted as she turned seductively and hurriedly walked in the direction of her room with Drake hot on her heels. Suddenly she stopped walking, Drake almost running into her.

“Ahh! What’re you doing?”

Alyssa looked around, taking in the hallway. “Have you noticed all these flowers around?”

He rolled his eyes. “Now why would I notice that?”

Alyssa huffed in frustration. “Drake. There’s entirely too many flowers around the palace, more than usual. I feel like I’m in a conservatory of flowers.” She grabbed his hand, tugged him towards the front door and they both saw a dark haired woman in jeans and a plain white t-shirt bringing in bouquets and floral arrangements. They overheard her speaking with one of the staff.

“I’ll be back tomorrow as ordered, Thomas.”

Thomas nods. “Yes ma’am. His Highness needs his daily flowers,” they both laughed, waved at each other and the woman walked out the door.

Alyssa’s eyes widened and whirled around to Drake. “Liam has been ordering flowers everyday,” she whispered loudly, the wheels in her head turning.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours, Devereaux?”

“We’re totally going to Inspector Gadget this shit!”

“We’re … what?”

“Come on!” She dragged him back down the other hallway, but he dug his heels into the floor.

“We were going to” - he nodded his head over to the opposite hallway where her bedroom was - “do some things before you got all these harebrained ideas.”

Alyssa arched her brow. “Were we though?”

It was Drake’s turn to tug her down the other hallway. “Yes. We. Were.” Alyssa grinned and let him pull her. Once they got to her door she unlocked it, looked around the hallway to make sure nobody saw them, pushed it open and used Drake’s body to slam the door shut.

“Devereaux!”

Alyssa slid down his body, undid his belt, popped the button on his jeans, pulled it and his boxers down and his cock sprang free. She took him into her mouth and Drake let out a loud groan. “Go go gadget dong!” she said, muffled since her mouth was full.

“What … the … fuck Lyss?” he started laughing so hard no sounds came out, just an occasional snort. Alyssa fell backwards, unable to catch her breath.

“We … were … gonna Inspector … Gadget this shit!” She laughed harder.

“You’re … fucking … crazy.” he gasped in between laughter.

Minutes later, Drake started to calm down a bit. “I love you, Devereaux.”

She got back up, still chuckling, and stood on her knees in front of him. “I love you too, now where were we?”

**

It had been a few days after Liam kissed Ella and she was still tasked with delivering the flowers to the palace. Thankfully, she never saw him while she was there, and to be honest she was grateful. She didn’t know how she would face him after their kiss the other night. Just get in and get out. She delivered all the flowers to the palace but didn’t distribute them like she did before. The staff just instructed her to leave them wherever they wanted them, so she followed their directions. Ella pushed the cart into a room, walked out and shut the large embellished door.

“Uhh, excuse me!”

Turning, Ella sees the same beautiful woman with dark hair that she saw in the cronut shop a few weeks ago, standing next to the tall, scowling man that was sitting next to her.

“Oh! Hello, did you need to get inside here?”

The woman shook her head. “I’m Alyssa, this is Drake.”

Ella smiled. “Nice to meet you both, I’m Ella.”

“Likewise! We just wanted to come say hi! You were the one who delivered those pink roses here for me a few days ago, right?”

Ella thought back to her first time at the palace. “Yes! Actually I did, that was my first visit here.”

“I wanted to thank you for that,” she looked up at Drake and smirked. “Those were the … softest roses I’ve ever felt.”

Drake turned a deep shade of red, raised his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Um, it’s nice to meet you, Ella.”

Alyssa giggled and looked back at Ella. “I’ve seen the flower truck here every day since then, I’ve never seen the palace have so many floral arrangements and bouquets.”

“Oh, I think the prince had something to do with that. He orders them everyday and my boss told me he requested I be the one to deliver them.” Ella looked down at the floor, biting her lip, then looked back up at the couple.

Alyssa didn’t miss the subtle change in demeanor. “Really? Did … something happen with you two?” She casually tried to start a conversation to get more intel, knowing something was going on with them.

Ella looked at the woman and she seemed really friendly and bubbly. “Ahh, well … he kissed me the other night and … then he apologized and said it was a mistake.” 

“Oh my God! For real?” Alyssa turned to Drake. “We have to get them together!”

“Devereaux, I don’t know about that …”

“That’s okay, really … he’s a prince,” Ella stammered, hoping the subject would be dropped.

“Just because he’s a prince doesn’t mean anything! We can totally do this!” Alyssa was practically yelling in the hallway, clapping her hands.

She has so much energy, Ella chuckled to herself. Then she remembered she had to return the truck. “Hey guys, it was really nice meeting you, but I have to go return the truck,” she explained apologetically.

“Okay, well it was nice to meet you, Ella! I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow,” Alyssa winked at her and they all waved as Ella walked outside.

**

Liam sat in his quarters, looking out the window at the front of the palace and seeing the floral truck parked there. He still called the florist asking them to deliver bouquets and floral arrangements; he still requested Ella bring them to the palace, but he couldn’t bring himself to go see her. I can’t do this, I have a social season. He closed his eyes, pressed his fingers to them and let out a breath. He knew his duty to the crown and his people, his father wouldn’t let him forget it. He had to choose a queen to rule alongside him, and it couldn’t be Ella.

He was brought out of his reverie by a knock on the door. He walked out of the living area to answer it and there stood Drake and Alyssa on the other side.

“Hey Li, how’s it going?” Drake and Alyssa had big grins on their faces.

“Hello,” he said suspiciously looking from Drake to Alyssa. “What brings you by?” he stepped to the side to let them inside.

Alyssa stepped forward. “Well, we’ve noticed … ” - Drake coughed - “Okay … I have noticed that you’ve got a lot of flowers and stuff around, more than usual.”

“Yes,” Liam eyed her questioningly.

“Soooooo, we did some detective work …” - Drake cleared his throat loudly and Alyssa rolled her eyes - “Okay … I did some detective work and dragged Drake with me.”

“Alright,” Liam said slowly, trying decipher what Alyssa was hinting at.

“And found out the cute floral delivery girl Ella has been coming here every day to deliver flowers. Isn’t that … weird, Liam? Why does the palace need flowers delivered every day?” She looked at him with a small smirk and an arched brow.

Liam shrugged convincingly. “Who knows why, it is a big building. They might need flowers to decorate different rooms.”

“Mmmhmm. Right. Well, I spoke with her, Liam.”

His eyes snapped up to Alyssa’s from the floor in surprise. “Wh-what? You spoke to her? What for?”

“She said you kissed her, apologized and said it was a mistake,” she gave him a disapproving glare. “What’re you doing Liam? You like her, don’t you?”

Liam sighed and gave up his nonchalant act. “Yes. Yes, I feel something for her. But you both know I am unable to pursue anything. I have a social season, I need to find a queen,” he let out an exasperated breath.

Drake finally broke his silence and stepped forward. “Li, there’s something we need to talk to you about.”

[aaronhart93]

incompleted discord thread featuring: Aaron & @river--holloway

When: march 2021

Mentions: @sxojun

Triggers: none

Description: river visits aaron at work and they catch up 

Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021

Aaron was hunched over his large desk at Club Delilah, trying to focus on this paperwork that was long overdue. Ever since getting back from Milan, he couldn’t seem to get on top of all of his paperwork. He’d been pulled later nights just get things for the day done. He knew he needed to delegate more, but his father always told him that if he wanted something done right, then Aaron had to do it himself. Even to this day, Aaron couldn’t get his dad’s voice out of his head in everything he did - the way he parented, how he worked, his dad seemed to be whispering to him about his relationship too. He knew he was disapprove, but Aaron was successful. He knew that’s what his father would care about the most. Aaron’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. “There’s someone here to see you.” His assistant told him. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/28/2021

River hadn’t seen or spoken to Aaron in quite some time and, truth be told, the professor missed his friend. Did their history make things somewhat complicated? Admittedly, yes. But, at the core of it all, the two were friends. And River preferred to keep it that way. He didn’t have many people that he considered his friends, after all. Arriving at Club Delilah and asking for Aaron, he waited to be allowed entrance into his office. When access had been granted, he stepped into the office and smiled politely at the younger male. Immediately, though, he could sense a disturbance within his friend that caused the corners of his mouth to droop slightly into a frown. “Hello, Aaron. Are you alright? I hope I didn’t come at a bad time.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021

It had been a minute since he’d seen River. In fact, if Aaron recalled correctly, the last time he actually say River was when they were fucking. He’d actually spoken with Seojun about his relationship with his former professor. Aaron was cool with it, of course. He’d had a relationship that was more than a friendship with both of them in the past, but Aaron was happy in his relationship right now. Besides, both River and Seojun were great guys. He was happy they’d found each other. “River…no.” He set his pen off to the side to give the older male his full attention. “How are you? Thanks for stopping by.” He smiled. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/28/2021

It was true that the last time that he and Aaron had seen each other, it had been in a much different context. With that in mind, the professor could admit that there was some slight awkwardness. But, overall, he was glad to see Aaron. The older male cared a lot about the businessman and considered him a good friend, despite the fact that their relationship had been more than platonic for quite some time. Not to mention they were both in relationships now, River’s in particular being one that he knew Seojun had recently made Aaron aware of. “I’m well, thank you. How are you?” River asked, taking a seat across from the other male. @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021

The small talk felt a little strange. Even though he genuinely cared about how River was doing, he could feel the elephant in the room. Aaron had a relationship with both Seojun and River that he wouldn’t exactly called platonic or casual. He had been friends with Jun for quite some time and there was always something…else there that Aaron couldn’t quite explain. And River was one of the most exciting flings he’d ever had in his life. Thinking about it made him excited even now. “I’m well. Des is in the talent show at school so she’s getting ready for that. How’s your kid? And, erhm….how are you and Seojun? I’ll admit I was a little surprised when I heard the news.” He confessed to the other male, a small smile on his face. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/28/2021

The interaction did feel strange. It was so much different than all the other times they’d interacted. He nodded his head, smiling as Aaron informed him of his daughter’s upcoming talent show. Sometimes, he forgot that Aaron was also a father because it wasn’t something they talked about often. He loved that they were both girl dads, though. “Oh, how lovely. What’s her talent? I’m sure she’s going to do a wonderful job at whatever it is,” He told him. “Haven is well. She’s coming home for Easter break on the 29th and then her sixteenth birthday is on April 2nd. I’m planning a nice sweet sixteen birthday party for her.” At the mention of Seojun, River chuckled a bit nervously. He supposed he should’ve figured that he would come up somehow. “We’re great. Were you? I didn’t know that you two were friends until he told me.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬March 29, 2021

Aaron.BOT — 03/29/2021

"She's a woman of many talents." He joked, chuckling to himself softly. "She's singing and dancing. I think that's where she's meant to be actually. Got her talents from her mom that's for sure." He smiled because there was never a time that thinking about his daughter's relationship with her mother didn't want him smiling. He missed her, he really did. "I don't even want to think about Des turning 16. Damn, that's something I just don't ever want to have to do. Be a dad to a teenage girl. You're going to have to give me some pointers." He gave the older male a tiny smirk. It was a bit flirtatious, but he was also being genuine. Haven was a great kid, so River must have been doing something right there. "I was." Aaron nodded, pressing his lips together. "We go way back. You guys seem happy though. So I'm happy for you." He told his former lover. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/29/2021

The professor listened fondly as Aaron gushed about his daughter. He could relate. His own daughter was undoubtedly his favorite person on Earth and he could go on and on about her for days on end if given the opportunity. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure she did inherit those gifts from her mother. And did she inherit your intelligence and wit as well?” He chuckled as Aaron talked about fearing the day that Des turned sixteen. “I can hardly believe that I’m going to have a sixteen year old myself. I’m blessed though, Haven is an angel. She’s never given me the typical teenage rebellion. We’ve always had very open dialogue, so she has no trouble expressing her feelings to me in a healthy manner. I do have to worry about boys though, on occasion. I mean, naturally. She’s a beautiful young lady.” He smirked back at the businessman, not missing the slight flirtatiousness of Aaron’s comment. “You’ve got a ways to go before then, but I’ll give you pointers when the time comes.” River nodded as Aaron gave a brief explanation of his and Seojun’s history. “I see. He did mention that you’re his best friend. Well, thank you. We are happy.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬March 30, 2021

Aaron.BOT — 03/30/2021

Aaron smirked over at the professor because of course Des had inherited Aaron's intelligence and wit. The kid was one of the wittiest and sassiest people he knew...including the adults. Of course she got it all from him. And now that she was living with Roman and Quentin too - she was even picking up some of their isms as well. Aaron was luck that his kid wasn't super weird considering all of the different adults she had in her life. "She got that all from me. Her good looks too." His smirk grew, then he started listening to River. "You know...Lan and I have always told each other that we were going to make sure Elle and Des got married. Like parent trapping them...but like...with our kids." He joked, knowing that idea was really twisted and wrong. But he and Landon still hoped for it anyway. It wasn't like he was going to force his kid to be with Elle or anything, and of course he wanted Des to do whatever made her happy, but the thought was still nice. "You know...I thought I had a long time until Des turned 6, and now here i am. I swear I'm going to blink and she'll be 16." He ran his hand through his hair because the idea of his kid getting old almost stressed him out. "Has Haven met Jun yet?" he asked, curiously. @Nix | Dorian & River & AmaniApril 4, 2021

RiverBOT — 04/04/2021

River laughed softly, shaking his head playfully. Something the professor had always admired about Aaron was his confidence. Sure, he’d been set up for success due to the family he’d been born in; but, without that charisma of his, he wouldn’t have that same flair and his businesses probably wouldn’t be quite as successful. He grinned as Aaron confessed to him and Landon fantasizing about their daughters ending up together. When Haven was born, he didn’t have any other friends with kids; and, now that he’s older, the other parents he knows still have much younger children than his. Sometimes, he can’t help but wish that he had more people in his life that he could closely relate with. That didn’t change the fact that he was very grateful for the friends like Aaron and Quentin that he does have. “I wish I could comfort you and say that’s not how it is, but that’s exactly how it goes. Children grow up so quickly. That’s why it’s so important to cherish every singular moment you have with them.” He shook his head at Aaron’s question. “Not yet. But she’ll meet him when she comes home Monday. They’ve spoken over the phone though.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬April 6, 2021

Aaron.BOT — 04/06/2021

No matter how old he got, he still valued that knowledge that River gave him. Even though this wasn't in a classroom setting, Aaron always found River so sexy because of how intelligent he was. He loved just looking at the man when he was delivering any type of information. Even if it was about how fast his daughter was going to grow up and leave him - at least the person who was delivering this terrible news was some excellent eye and ear candy. "C'mon, man. Don't get me all emotional in the middle of the day like that. I have a meeting later." He laughed, but he almost did feel himself getting a little upset at the thought of Des getting older. "Oh..well...I'm sure she won't like him as much as she liked me." He joked and even added a small cackle, though he wasn't sure if that was exactly a funny joke. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

[angstysebfan]

If You Love Me, Why Did You Hurt Me? 8/10

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Other Avengers Mentioned: Tony, Natasha, Steve  Warnings: cursing

Summary: You dated Bucky for 5 wonderful years! You thought he was the one! Then, without reason, he ends your relationship, and gets a new girlfriend 2 days later! While you are both Avengers, you still have to see him, and his girlfriend.

Series Masterlist

Bucky stands outside your room, after leaving. Tears still pouring from his eyes as he hears your sobs from the other side of the door. He really thought that you would forgive him and would take him back. He even had the ring he picked out for you in his hoodie pocket. But now he knows what an idiot he was. He hurt you more than he ever thought possible. He hated himself. Steve was right, if he loved you, he needed to leave you alone and be happy. He just didn’t know how long he could last without you.

____________________________________________________________

You wake up the next morning feeling hungover. But you knew it wasn’t from alcohol, since you didn’t drink anything, it was from the amount of tears you cried from your talk with Bucky. What were you going to do about him? 

You told him you were going to move out and live with Aaron, but you are not sure if that is the answer. You needed advice, and you knew who to get it from. You get out of bed and head down to the lab, where you knew he would be working.

Tony was busy re calibrating his Ironman suit, when you walked in. “Hey Tony, you got a sec?” you ask as you walk in the door. Tony turns to you with a smile that turns to a concerned look once he sees your face. 

“What happened kiddo? What did Barnes do now? I’m not afraid to kick his ass out of here!” Tony says angrily.

You shake your head, “No, we talked last night, and emotions ran high, and now I really need advice before I make a decision I might regret.”

“Well now I am even more concerned. Come sit.” Tony motions to the stool next to him and gives you his undivided attention. You tell him everything that happened last night. From Aaron asking you to move in with him, to your emotional conversation with Bucky. All the while tears coming down your face.

When you finish your whole story, you look at Tony. “What should I do? I think Aaron is right about living here with Bucky. I don’t think it’s healthy for me because I do love him, but how can I just forgive and forget something like that? But at the same time, I have only known Aaron a few weeks, and I am not sure if the feelings I have are more friend based or romantic based. How can I move in and give him hope when I have the potential to break his heart?”

Tony looks at you with his eyebrows raised. “Wow, kid. Your life is just one big soap opera. I really should sell it to TV stations and make some money on this.” You glare at Tony. 

“I’m sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. Anyway, I don’t think you should move in with this Aaron guy. I agree that you might set him up for heartbreak, but also I am not sure how I feel about him moving so fast in the relationship. Makes me not trust him.”

You roll your eyes at Tony’s last words. “However, as much as it pains me, because I would miss you so much. I think you are right. If being this close to Barnes all the time pains you that much, then maybe we need to fix that. I will reach out to my realtor and find a suitable apartment for you close the compound, so you can still get here quickly for training and missions.”

You jump off the stool and give Tony a huge hug. “Thank you, Tony! You don’t know how much this means to me!” 

Tony laughed and gave you a kiss on top of your head. “You’re like a daughter to me, of course I am going to take care of you.” You look up and give Tony a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” You turn and head out of the lab. Tony shakes his head sadly. He really will miss you.

_________________________________________________________

You were up in the kitchen grabbing coffee when Steve and Nat walk in. “Morning Y/N!” Steve said. 

“Morning guys.” You say with a smile on your face. Steve walks to the refrigerator and takes out the orange juice, while Nat comes and sits across from you at the table. Nat looks at you with a questioning stare. 

“You okay? You a little run down.” Nat says concern laced in her voice. Steve turns around at this statement, also with concern. You look at Nat then Steve and release the breath you didn’t realize her you were holding. 

“Aaron asked me to move in with him last night, and--” Before you were able to get another word in, Nat and Steve both started talking about how it was too fast, and you can’t leave. You hold up your hand to silence them.

“Look, I agree it is too soon to move in with Aaron, but he is right about me not living here. It’s too hard to live under the same roof as Bucky. Especially after our talk last night.” Steve came and sat next to you.

“What talk?” He said. You look at him and then down to your hands. “Bucky came to my room last night. He told me everything that happened leading up to the break up. Then he told me how I am “it” for him and that he wants to earn my trust and try again.” You heard Steve sigh. 

“What did you say to that?” Nat asked quietly. You looked at her, tears again threatening your eyes. You shrugged, “I asked him if he loved me, why did he hurt me? It doesn’t excuse what he did after the break up. Having Brittney here all the time. Then I told him I was moving out and I was moving in with Aaron. When I woke up this morning, I knew that wasn’t the answer either. So... I spoke with Tony, who agreed, and he will reach out to his realtor to get me a place close to the compound so I can continue to work and train here.”

Nat and Steve looked at each other in silence. They both hated when you were gone for the 3 months, when you were in the center. Now you would be gone indefinitely. Steve always saw you as a little sister. Someone he could protect and be there for when needed. He hated that he couldn’t protect you from his best friend.

“Well... we support you, and will help you with whatever you need.” Nat said, trying to keep her own tears at bay. She looked at Steve who nodded. “Yeah, we will always have your back Y/N.” 

___________________________________________________________

Bucky was lying on his bed, thinking about how much he hated himself for hurting you and losing you. He will never forgive himself for this, and he is sure no one else will either, especially you. 

There was a knock at his door. A part of him hoped it was you, telling him you changed your mind, but he knew that was far fetched. He opened the door to see his best friend. Without a word he stepped back from the door and went back to his bed, sitting against the headboard. 

Steve saw the redness in Bucky’s eyes and knew his friend was not taking this well. “How ya doin’ Buck?” Steve asked as he closed the door and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. Bucky gave an emotionless laugh.

“Well, I hurt the woman I love, more than anything, so bad that she is leaving the compound and moving in with that guy. I apologized and hoped she would forgive me, but instead she wants to keep seeing him. So all in all I am fan-fucking-tastic! Thank you for asking.”

Steve scoffed at his friend. “You know you don’t have a right to be upset with her decision, right?” Bucky looked at his friend. “Yeah, I know. And I’m not upset with her about her decision, I’m upset I brought her to that decision.”

Steve nodded. “I know how much you love her, pal. But they say if you love something let it go, if it’s meant for you, it will come back, if not, then...”

Bucky wiped tears away from his eyes. “That’s what I am afraid of. The then...” Bucky closed his eyes for a moment to gain control of his emotions. “But, I am going to do right by her. I love her enough to let her go. I just really hope it is not forever. Especially to that guy. I still thinks she deserves better than him. Better than me too.” he said softly.

Steve looked at his friend with sympathy. “She isn’t moving in with Aaron. She told me that’s what she said to you last night, but she realized she it’s not the best decision. Tony is helping her get her own apartment close to the compound.”

Bucky felt slightly better with this knowledge, but still had an aching feeling in his gut. “What if I can’t get her back? What if I really lost her forever?” Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder. “You will survive. But maybe you should just try and be her friend, or teammate. Let her know you still care for her, without all the other stuff. But I would even hold off on that until she is ready.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, as much as it kills me, I am going to give her space. I should have listened to you to begin with, but I had to tell her the truth. She deserved to know. She deserved a lot of things.” 

Steve stood up and headed toward the door. “Everything will work out the way it should in the end. It’s not going to be an easy ride for you, but just remember, after everything she and you deserve happiness. Whether that’s together or apart.” With that Steve turns and exits the room, leaving Bucky to his thoughts again.

_________________________________________________________

Chapter 7   Chapter 9

Got to love Captain Steve with the sound advice. I have to say, I have no idea how I am going to run the ending. All my thoughts are up in the air. While I agree Bucky is an inconsiderate moron who broke her heart, I still hate when he is unhappy. However, the reader deserves happiness, I just have to figure out how to get her there. Leave your thoughts!

[aaronhart93-archive]

therapy || aaroman

Discord thread featuring: Aaron & @romanbeckett

When: October 12, 2020 before Quentin and Roman get mugged.

Where: Roman’s apartment

Description: Aaron and Roman argue about Roman going to therapy. 

Trigger Warnings: mentions of depression, and depression meds - alcoholism, mentions of relapse, mental illness, arguing, mentions of coke use/addicition

Roman.

Roman sniffed after blowing out the toke he’d pulled from his blunt, eyes watering as he stared at a television that wasn’t even on. His depression was getting the best of him today, and no wonder how hard he tried to pull himself together KNOWING his boyfriend was on his way — he just couldn’t. He was cold, his toes almost painful when he finally sought out a blanket, his Sherpa lavender comforter that he’d purchased while high on shrooms. It was his favorite though, a good choice, and he could only hope Aaron wouldn’t prod him too much about his current state.

Aaron

Aaron was doing relatively well. All things considering. He was still trying to stay as busy as possible, while also trying to leave as much time for his family as he possible could. And Him and Roman had both been busy helping Alison out with the twins. Tonight was one of Roman and Aaron's first nights alone in days. He had gone to Whole Foods and planned on making a romantic meal for just them - without having to accommodate a picky six year old. "Honey, I'm home!" He sang, laughing to himself as he walked into Roman's apartment. The smell of weed instantly hit him. Not that it bothered him. Since dating Roman and quitting drinking, Aaron had actually learned to really like smoking. "Hope you saved some." He said, putting the grocery bags down on the table and walked over to sit next to his boyfriend on the couch, pecking him on the cheek. "How was your day?"

Roman.

Roman at least managed a small smirk when he heard Aaron, because he couldn’t help it. He loved the man, and hearing his voice after a low day. Still, he was having a hard time, and it was hard to keep that off his face, even after Aaron kissed his cheek. “I didn’t do much honestly. I jus’ haven’t felt like getting off the couch.” He admitted in a rasp, and then wiped at his eyes because for some reason he was getting emotional JUST from Aaron being here.

Aaron

Aaron swallowed hard and his face twisted with confusion because he could tell something was off with Roman as soon as his boyfriend spoke to him. Was he crying? Aaron knew all the well about the days when you just couldn't get off of the couch or out of bed. That was him the entire time he was in rehab and several weeks following his discharge when he wasn't taking his medication properly. "Roman..." He ran his finger through his hair. "What's wrong?" He asked, worry clear in his voice.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman cleared his throat when he was asked what was wrong, not really knowing what to say even though he was desperate to answer. He didn’t want to only for Aaron, but for himself as well. He loved to know what was wrong, what drove him to act like this, and yet the truth was also terrifying. “I dunno...I don’t — fuck.” He shook his head, already starting to tear up again, this time with the tears actually breaking through to fall down his cheeks. “I wish I knew. I’ve just been in my head all day I guess.”

Aaron

Aaron felt like his throat literally closed when Roman spoke to him the way he did. Fuck, he was crying. He took a deep breath, trying to calm him down when he realized nothing majorly awful happened today. Aaron got under the blanket with Roman and snuggled up next to him. He knew he was selfish for thinking this - but this was hard for Aaron to keep seeing. And triggered his own depression as well. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked him. Roman really needed to be in therapy - Aaron did not know how to deal with this.

Roman.

Roman watched as Aaron got under his blanket, and then tried his best to get some answers out of ro. Of course he couldn’t stop himself from the wave of guilt that hit him at the fact that his boyfriend wanted to know if there was anything he could do, shaking his head with a sniff, because no, unfortunately there wasn’t. “No. I mean, you make it better, don’t get me wrong.” He tried to assure the other male, and then chewed on his lower lip. “I’m so sorry. This is not how I wanted to be when you got here.”

Aaron

He had to admit, hearing that he made it better made his heart swell a little bit. Still, he was far from happy. “It’s okay.” He told him. The billionaire took a sharp breath in before speaking next, knowing that what he was about to say wasn’t going to be received too well like it had been in the past. “What do you think about revisiting the idea of going to therapy?” He asked his boyfriend. “Because honestly, Roman. I don’t know what to do here and it’s really hard to see you like this.” He confessed, looking over at the Brit.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman took in a sharp breath when Aaron suggested therapy again, the idea of it alone making his stomach turn. Ro had been running from his past, his trauma, his whole life. He didn’t even know HOW to talk about the stuff he’d been through past the surface, and someone picking at his brain? He didn’t even want to think about it. Still, Ro hated dismissing Aaron’s concern, so he at least pretended to think on it for a moment. “I jus’...I don’t think therapy is bad. It’s just not for me.” He looked down while he fiddled with his fingers over the blanket, his cheeks heating up from the added emotion now coursing through his body. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad.”

Aaron

Ugh. Aaron was starting to believe that Roman was literally never going to attempt to help himself. That was frustration. Especially because Aaron had put himself through hell to help himself after Roman called him out on his drinking habits. His shit still wasn’t together, that’s for sure. But he was working on it — like going to therapy, taking his meds the right way, staying away off the booze, and keeping himself busy with other things like helping Alison and being with Des. “Well then what is going to help you, Roman? Because nothing is going to change if you don’t start helping yourself.” He snapped. He stood up and walked into the kitchen because now he needed to cool off.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman felt his heart sink when Aaron snapped at him, and then chose to walk off to the kitchen. That immediately set something off in Ro, and made the actor come out from under his blanket to follow the smaller. He was getting angry now, like an upset animal backed into a corner, and he very well wasn’t just going to buckle, and let this go. “Why are you being like this today? I’m going through a rough time, but that doesn’t mean I have to do things a certain way. You’re my boyfriend, i need you to support me. I stopped coke, I barely drink, I’m just struggling — is that not allowed?!” He snapped right back at the business owner, his brows furrowed in his own frustration. He didn’t even know what he was saying, all he knew was that he was upset, and it needed to come out.

Aaron

Okay. Fuck. They were gonna argue about this. It was honestly probably about time since it had been bothering Aaron for quite some time and he had pretty  much exhausted all the nice ways of telling Roman that he needed serious help. Aaron angrily started throwing the groceries in the fridge and cupboards as he listened to Roman speak, then turned towards Roman to speak. "Being like what? A concerned boyfriend? Someone who really fucking hates seeing you like this? I'm also going through a tough time, but Roman...this has been longer than 'a time'" He made air quotes with his fingers. "This has been the entire time I've known you. And I know it's been going on for a lot longer than that. You - " He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he wanted to bring it up. "You have so much shit -trauma - that you need to unpack with a professional if you're ever going to get better. Way more than me and I have just started trying to get better because you told me to." He pointed towards him. "If this is about you wanting to drink...I have taken full responsibility for my relapse. You can drink as much as you want. In fact, have a drink now." He said, almost a little too sarcastically. Then he looked in the fridge. There had to be an old beer in the back of the fridge somewhere.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman was shaking his head through all of Aaron’s words because they hurt. They hurt because they were true, but it’s not like he wanted to believe that now. All he wanted to cling to now what that he was fine, it was normal to be depressed sometimes, and it didn’t always have to resort to therapy. “Oh stop, I don’t want a fucking drink.” He countered to his boyfriend, finding it almost insulting that he would even joke, or assume about something like that. This was about the drinking. “I want to be able to be allowed to feel how I feel, and then move on. It’s what normal people do every day. I don’t need someone to tell me things i already know.”

Aaron

Aaron knew that it was ridiculous for him to suggest that this was about drinking because he knew full well that it wasn't. He closed the fridge and turned back to Roman. He knew he was hurting, but Aaron wasn't going to tip toe around that anymore. Roman just needed some tough love right now and Aaron was willing to get into a fight with him if that meant he was finally going to get some help. "Roman! No one is saying you can't feel a certain way! I'm telling you that you need to listen to what those feelings are telling you and do something to help yourself. Roman, you told me I need to get help. With all of my shit. I went to rehab because you wanted me to get my drinking under control, I'm going to therapy, I stopped working as much, I started taking my medicine that I don't even think is helping but you asked me to. Why can't you take your own damn advice?" He yelled.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman looked at Aaron when wide eyes when he was yelled at, feeling his chest start to rise and fall as he got more, and more angry. To him at the moment, this was bullshit, and all he wanted to do was walk out, even though this was his own apartment. Of course that’s what he’d wanna do - run. It was typical, and he knew that, he knew deep down that Aaron was right, but. It was hard to hear. His jaw tensed as he looked at Aaron, trying to find his words, but he really was just thrown off, having not expected any of this. “I didn’t ask you to take medication.” He countered, and then shook his head. “I asked you to get help with your alcoholism because alcohol can fucking kill you. There’s a difference.”

Aaron

Aaron felt bad for just throwing this at Roman without warning, but it had also been such a long time coming. This had been brewing inside of Aaron for far too long now and it was all coming out - maybe not in the most appropriate way but there was no turning back now. "Okay. Maybe you didn't ask me to take it, but you told me I couldn't just stop taking medicine like that. And I'm taking it because you said something about it and that I couldn't just stop taking meds like that! And I thought it would make you feel better if I did. Even though all it's doing it making me tired." He confessed, rubbing his face with his hand. "It's literally no different. Depression and other mental health disorders can also kill you." Aaron would not have known the physical effects that mental health has the body if it weren't for rehab. He sighed, and started speaking a little more calmly now. "If you aren't going to get help for yourself, then at least do it for me and Des."

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman shook his head, annoyed by this conversation to begin with for many reasons. It felt like Aaron was just attacking him out of nowhere, which clearly meant this was something brewing inside of him for awhile. That hurt as well. “If you don’t want to take the damn medication, then come down off of it. I meant it fucks with you, and you can’t just STOP cold turkey, but do what you want.” Ro was clearly really upset now, angry tears flowing down his cheeks as he talked with his hands. “Therapy isn’t the magic key to everythin’, I wish it was. Maybe I’m just fucked up.” He shook his head once again, and turned to go back to the couch.

Aaron

Aaron decided to just completely ignore that bit about the Lexapro. He really thought Roman wanted him to take it. And yes, Aaron noticed that Roman was crying. Yes, he felt bad. But he wasn't going to tiptoe around Roman's sensitivity any longer because that clearly wasn't doing anything. Aaron angrily stormed after Roman back to the couch. "Have you even tried it? Even if you have, have you actually tried it? Like being honest with the therapist and everything. You're right, it might not work. But you can't sit here and do nothing while you're mental health gets worse and worse. Roman! Can't you tell I'm scared?" Now Aaron was the one getting a little emotional.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman closed his eyes when Aaron came after him to argue further, trying to make his case about seeing a therapist, which only made his chest get tight. Would he do pretty much anything for Aaron? Yes. Would he probably give in eventually and go to therapy? Yes. He loved Aaron and Des enough to do that, but his stubbornness was being a little extra right now. It was hard to give in when he felt emotional, and attacked. “I have tried it, and it makes me feel worse. There’s nothing to be scared about Aaron, please.” He begged, looking over at the smaller with desperation in his eyes.

Aaron

Aaron was so frustrated. He wasn't sure if he was getting through to Roman or just making things worse at this point, but he wasn't turning back on this now. He was finally getting everything he'd been feeling out in the open. It hurt them both now, sure, but hopefully this would help in the long run. "It's always going to get worse before it gets better, Roman. You have to stick something like that out." He waved his hand and shook his head in protest. "No, no. Don't tell me that. There's no way you actually believe that there's nothing to be worried about." He told him.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman sighed, and looked straight up at the ceiling, because he didn’t AT all want to deal with this right now, or continue to talk about it. He’d just wanted a nice night with his boyfriend, but he’d opened the door to ruin that for sure. “I do believe that.” He countered while turning to look at his boyfriend. “I’m struggling, but I’ll be fine. I’m always fine, Aaron.”

Aaron

Roman was not always fine. That was for sure. He was almost shocked at Roman's words. There was no way the other male actually believed the words that were coming out of his own mouth? "Ugh!" He huffed in frustration and struggled not to punch a whole in the god damn wall. He sat down on other side of the couch and put his face in his hands. Aaron needed to have control, and he felt like Roman was spiraling out of it. The fact that he couldn't seem to help his boyfriend out of it was hard for Aaron.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman was silent for a moment when Aaron reacted the way he did, because he was clearly upset and annoyed with Roman. He took a deep breath, letting the silence blanket them for a moment before he was finally responding. “It’s gonna be okay.” He tried to assured the other, though of course he had an Easter to his voice. It was clear Roman was annoyed, but that definitely made two of them.

Aaron

Aaron shook his head. He didn't believe the actor for a second, and it - in fact- made him even more upset that Roman was continuing to bullshit him. "You cannot keep doing this to yourself." He said, finally. He grabbed the half smoked blunt from the coffee table and re lit it to take a hit. Because two months ago he would have went straight to the bar after leaving here. He set the blunt down, got up and went to the kitchen again. He wasn't sure what the fuck he was doing in there, but it was better than being in the living room right now.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman watched as Aaron reached for the blunt, sniffing once again as he wiped at his eyes. He stared at his lap. Why was he supposed to say to that? When Aaron got up and went to the kitchen, Roman didn’t follow him this time. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, and clearly Aaron was getting way too upset with the actor. Ro just...wanted to break down completely, his anxiety at a level that was making him twitch, but he didn’t. Instead, he just sat there, and stared at the coffee table like he was in a trance.

Aaron

The silence was fucking deafening. He walked into the kitchen and decided to finish putting the groceries away, and organizing the items he’d carelessly thrown in the fridge and the pantry a few minutes prior. He wasn’t sure if he was the one who was supposed to go in there and say something, or if Roman was going to be the one to do that. He was being stubborn as fuck though, just standing in the kitchen in complete silence as putting the groceries away turned into Aaron completely cleaning out Roman’s refrigerator.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman knew Aaron was working away in the kitchen, and he wanted to just go in there and wrap his arms around the smaller, maybe bury his face in the side of the other’s neck. Get over this. He wanted to do that more than anything, but instead he just stayed rooted on the couch, fidgeting, feeling his heart start to beat faster. He was so upset, for multiple reasons, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be the first one to break here.

Aaron

Time seemed to pass so slowly even though Aaron was keeping busy in the kitchen. What was it about cleaning while you were angry that was so therapeutic? He was still fuming. He should just leave. They could cool off and talk about this later. But every other time Aaron had left or kicked Roman out after an argument had never seemed to work out for them and Aaron always ended up feeling worse about it later. He had no idea how much time had past before he finally felt calm enough to walk back into the living room to sit back down next Ro. He didn’t say anything to his boyfriend though. He just kind of sat there and looked over at him blankly.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Dammit. Aaron was good at this game too, and was going to make Roman have to say the first word, wasn’t he? He simply shook his head when the other male sat down, picking at his blanket before he sucked in a deep breath, and let out a shaky sigh. “I dunno what to say, Aaron. I don’t know how to be what you want me to be.” He said dryly, voice heavy with rasp as he tried to steady himself, and not be so emotional.

Aaron

That was kind of fucking dramatic, and honestly annoying because that’s not at all what Aaron was saying. “Don’t twist my words, Roman. I love you exactly how you are.” He was a bit more calm now, but still stern. “I just want you to be happy and healthy. You have a lot depression and an eating disorder that were probably the result of all your trauma. I can’t let it go on without saying anything for much longer. I tried being nice about it. But that didn’t work. I had a kick in the ass, and maybe that’s what you need to.” He spoke. Maybe an argument was the only way this was going to get through to him.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman couldn’t help but look up at the ceiling, his knee bouncing as he was criticized. He knew Aaron was right deep down, how could he not? He’d probably say the same to anyone else, but as far as accepting it himself? That was HARD. “I don’t want a kick in the ass about counseling. I don’t want to fight, and I’m done talking about this.” He snapped, pushed to his limits as he ran a hand through his growing curls to get them away from his face.

Aaron

This really was not getting through to him. “I didn’t want a kick in the ass about drinking, but here we are!” He sang, too sarcastically but he was too pissed off the care. “I don’t want to fight either, but I care about you too much to let you do this to yourself any longer. Are you really not even considering getting help right now?” He asked. He would’ve stormed out of here a while ago, but he was holding out for Roman to hopefully change his mind.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman was really getting pushed. It was obvious by the way he was practically jerking now, bouncing his knee even harder, his nose scrunching, and twitching like it often did when his anxiety was getting worse, and worse. “I’m doing better with my eating, and I’m working through my depression.” He defended himself, not even looking at Aaron, because he couldn’t. “Please. I don’t want to discuss this anymore.” He said with an edge to his voice once again, on the verge of just exploding.

Aaron

Everything inside of Aaron was screaming at him to just let this go and his his boyfriend to make his anxiety go away. But he knew that that would only be a very, very temporary fix because up until that had been what he was doing. Aaron was mad. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve - telling him exactly how he felt. Which was hard for Aaron.  He felt like Roman wasn't even listening to him. "Fine. If we're done talking about this, I'm leaving." He stated coldly, getting up to collect his things.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman rolled his eyes, because tonight literally could not have gone any worse. He wanted to protest, because Aaron leaving felt like it was just going to make him feel worse, but he simply stayed silent again. After a few moments, he just muttered a quick “fine”, and then got up to storm off to his bedroom so that he didn’t have to watch Aaron leave. Yes, that was dramatic, but he was already being dramatic enough as it were. He might as well add to it.

Aaron

The bar owner paused for a moment when he heard Roman get up to go to his bedroom. Aaron wished that Roman would have asked him to stay, but he needed to make his point. He was stubborn, sure, but this was bigger than his ego. He wanted to share his life with Roman, but he wanted to make sure that Roman felt fulfilled on his own before he felt fulfilled in this relationship. He just...wanted his boyfriend to be okay. He really didn't think he was asking all that much. Aaron really didn't want to spend one of their only nights alone together this week apart, but he couldn't go in there and pretend like everything was okay. Because it really fucking wasn't. He froze in place for a minute or so before he finally left the apartment.

[13-reasons-ideas]

Finding Peace in Another Part 15

A/N: I’m sorry this chapter is out late. I got sick right when school started and then got busy with school stuff. I had to split it into at least 3 parts so the next few weeks are set to be posted on their days. I hope you guys like it! As always, feedback is appreciated. Much love 

Word count: 1655

After Zach left, I sat back down with Montgomery. “Monty?” I asked, shyly.

“Hmmm?” he responded, distracted, clearly still trying to process all of the information he had been told tonight.

“A-are you mad at me…?” I picked at the hem of my shirt, avoiding eye contact. I was afraid of his answer. He was silent for a long time. It felt like hours in my mind but was actually only a handful of minutes.

“I’m not mad Rebecca. I’m hurt that you felt like you couldn’t tell me about Jake. Now that you’ve explained why I can sort of understand but it still hurts.” He told me, placing his index finger under my chin and lifting my face to look at him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I-I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. And the way you looked at me. I haven’t seen you look at me like that since you came to me that first night to clean and care for your wounds.”

Montgomery pulled me into his lap gently rubbing my back in soothing circles.

We sat like that for a while just thinking over the past 24 hours and the past few weeks. We had been through so much in such a short time that it was hard to comprehend. I wondered what it could mean for us going forward. Will this change anything? Is he going to look at me like everyone else now? I know he hadn’t indicated that he would, but he also didn’t answer the unspoken question either. I deliberated if I should ask him or not. Biting back my fear, I decided that would be the best course of action. I needed to know. “Monty?”

“Yeah Becks?” he responded. He sounded almost resigned and that scared me more than anything.

“This isn’t going to change anything, will it? You won’t look at me differently now?” my voice had a lilt to it that I could not hide, indicating my fear of his answer.

“No. This isn’t going to make me look at you differently.” He answered quickly, though it didn’t do much to put my mind at ease. He seemed to want to continue so I remained silent, trying to contain my emotions and stop myself from physically giving away my fear. “I can’t say that this won’t change anything about our relationship. I also can’t say that it will change anything. We just have to move forward from here. I can tell you that this won’t change how I feel.” I nodded, relieved. “It also won’t make me not fight with you because you’re a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Well you can be a stubborn prick sometimes.” I responded, cheekily, my head still stuck in his shoulder. He mussed up my hair and I felt him shake his head.

“We can continue this chat in the morning babe. It’s getting late.”

“Really? Its only like-” I looked at the clock on the wall behind the couch “Eight o’clock. That’s not late. Unless you have… other reasons for wanting to get me into bed?” I said, nipping at his neck softly. He cleared his throat.

“N-no. We’ve had a long day. You’ve had a difficult day. You need to sleep. And no. You can’t argue with me on this. Stubborn prick remember?” I sighed heavily, knowing that arguing would do no good. Monty placed me back on the empty couch cushions briefly. After he adjusted himself, he picked me up and carried me bridal style up to my room. I ran my fingers through his hair, determined to get my way, though my efforts were futile. When we got to my room he simply placed me on my feet and grabbed me some pyjamas. He went so far as to go into my bathroom while I changed, just so I couldn’t change his mind. “You better be in those and in bed by the time I get back Miss. Samuels.” He told me, his dominant tone leaving no room for argument. I finally resigned myself to the fact that we really were just going to go to bed and nothing more. Begrudgingly, I changed and grabbed a book to read before going to sleep. If this boy thinks I’m going to sleep at fucking 8:20pm he has another thing coming. When he returned, I was still feeling rather cheeky.

“Do I have permission to read a book for a while Mr. De La Cruz?” I asked, smartly. He rolled his eyes playfully while trying to keep up his dominant role and climbed over me to get into his spot. He nodded his consent as I got comfortable against him. “Could you maybe…” I started.

“Yes Becca? Could I what?” he urged me on.

“Could you maybe read to me? You were right earlier. It has been a long day.” I finished, burying my head in his broad chest to hide my blush. He chuckled as he took the book from my hands and opened it. Pulling me closer, he began to read to me. It wasn’t long before his soothing voice had lulled me to sleep, my body finally letting go of the tension from the day.

The following morning was quiet but the tension I expected yesterday finally surfaced. I realized that Monty had stayed up much later than I had as soon as my alarm went off. He’s not a morning person on a good day, but he was particularly short and snippy about the alarm. His grumpiness continued even after he had his morning coffee and shower. I knew he was still trying to process yesterday and he wasn’t exactly thrilled about learning just how close Zach and I had grown. With that being said, he didn’t need to be snippy with me. We made it clear last night that there was nothing more than friendship between us and he seemed to understand. Looking back on his response however, he may have been a little too understanding. I decided it was best to let him cool off before broaching the subject again. Before we parted to go to school, he kissed me the same way he had any other day. I counted that as a small victory and light of hope that all was still good for us. On my way to school I texted Tony to see if he wanted a coffee, which he politely declined.

Arriving at Monet’s I ordered my usual, swapping Monty’s black coffee for a chocolate raspberry muffin for Tony. I thought he could use a peace offering for my being so short yesterday. And who says no to a free muffin?

Upon my arrival at school I quickly spotted Tony and Clay talking by his car. “Tony!” I called, trying to get his attention as I walked over. He looked up past Clay’s shoulder and waved. I held up the muffin bag when I got to them, weaving my way through the crowds of students. Why do people hang out in the parking lot here? Some things about this place still confused me even after the adjustment period ended. Clay smiled and waved as I gave Tony the muffin.

“Where’s mine?” Clay asked, his eyes shining so I knew he was kidding.

“Hmm… I seem to recall someone’s brother gets free leftovers, so I think you’ve had enough muffins man.” I laughed, shaking my head. Justin pulled up in the Prius citing forgetting his jacket at work the night before. Low and behold, he had a bag of muffins on his person. “Speak of the muffin man and he shall appear.” I laughed harder, pointing out the bag with my arm. Poor Justin looked so confused Clay couldn’t help himself and doubled over in laughter. Ah, brotherly love. Once he had recovered, we made our way inside to our respective lockers. Clay and Justin stopped at their lockers before joining Tony and I on the overcrowded waltz to my locker. Zach immediately caught my eye and arched his prefect brow as I opened it to retrieve my books. I shot him a confused look and shrugged, not understanding the unspoken inquiry nor noticing the absence of my favourite defensive back.

“I see she-Yoda got Yoda a muffin. Where’s mine Becca?” Bryce asked, smirking.

In unison, Tony and I responded “is that a crack at our height?” Bryce and the rest of the team looked surprised at our response but I caught Zach and Scott trying not to laugh. The suppressed laughter quickly died down as Cyrus came running over.

“Hey Walker, you want to call off your watchdog?” He seethed.

“What are you talking about man?” Bryce asked him, his pretty teeth showing in a smile though he looked confused.

“I’m talking about Monty giving my friends a hard time.” I froze at the mention of his name and did a quick headcount. Matt, Clarke, Scott, Aaron, Zach… no Montgomery. Fuck. Zach shot me a ‘now you see?’ look as my eyes widened. Waiting for someone to jump into action seemed to take forever. I couldn’t be first because that would be suspect. As his best friend, Scott was quick to step up and lead the group over to a growing number of students crowding in the courtyard. When students noticed the blue and white leather coming their way, the crowd parted quickly in hopes of avoiding teachers getting involved. Clay, Tony, and Justin hung back behind the group trying to pass off their interest. Zach and Matt, being the bigger members of our mismatched group got involved and pulled Monty away from Eric and Chad who were trying to protect Tyler. Cyrus jumped in and checked that his friends were okay. I felt dwarfed by the crowd until they started to disperse, realizing they weren’t getting any action this morning. So much for everything being fine.

[askjaaryl]

Episode #002: “Emotional Problems”

Paul talks to Maggie...and then Alex. Relationships take two steps forward and one step back.

Paul slipped out of his bedroom, wincing slightly as he did. He couldn’t cook very much, but the least he could do was make some coffee for the boys when they woke up to start the day. He smiled softly when he saw the two curled up on the pull-out couch together, under a blanket, with Dog sleeping on their legs.

“Hey, buddy,” Paul said softly, “Wanna go outside and run?” he asked him.

Dog jumped up at the mention of the word outside and ran towards the door.

Paul opened the door to let him out and waited for a moment, deciding if he should keep the door open or not. Dog could easily scratch on the door when he wanted inside, but it would be easier if he could run back inside on his own, especially if he was in the shower, since that took a lot longer with his injuries.

He decided to leave the door open, since the chill of the air wasn’t too bad this morning, and watched Dog run out.

He walked over to the coffee maker and started it. When he lifted his arm, he felt the familiar twinge of pain in his chest and he took a shaky breath, leaning back and wincing. He had pain pills, but he wanted to save them in case someone else needed them.

He waited to make sure the old coffee maker actually worked before he hobbled over to his room and grabbed a small box from under his bed and a lighter from his bedside table, going out to the porch and closing the door behind him.

Paul sat down slowly on the chair Daryl usually used when he was smoking, since Paul wouldn’t let him smoke in the trailer. He lit up the joint, just as Maggie walker over.

“It’s eight in the mornin’, Paul,” she sighed.

Paul just shrugged, wincing as he did.

“How are you feelin’?” she asked.

“Fine,” Paul said simply, “Alex stitched me up.”

“He say anything to you?”  Maggie demanded immediately.

“No,” Paul said quietly and sighed, “How’s the family today?”

“They’re all still asleep,” Maggie shrugged, “I figured I’d let ‘em sleep in after everything. War takes a lot outta you,” she joked weakly, “Glenn’s been sleepin’ a lot more. Alex says it’s normal, with the injuries he’s faced, but I’m seekin’ a second opinion from the Commonwealth.”

Paul nodded, “Sounds good,” he said quietly.

Maggie glanced at the door, “How’s it goin’ with those two?”

Paul laughed weakly, “They’re fine. I’m just getting a little tired of playing third wheel.”

“They together?” Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m assuming,” Paul sighed, putting his head back, “You don’t just make out with someone you don’t at least have feelings for...well, most people don’t,” he smirked slightly, “Aaron and Daryl don’t seem like the type.”

Maggie stared at him for a moment before sighing, “Okay,” she said, leaning on the side of the porch, “What’s up? You’re upset, I can tell.”

Paul pursed his lips and sighed, taking a long drag. He looked up and blew the smoke out, but kept his head back when he was done, “Can I confess something?”

“Always,” Maggie told him.

“I’m absolutely terrified of being alone again,” Paul sighed, refusing to meet her eyes, “I’d never tell anyone this but you...not even Glenn,” he took a shaky breath, “I’ve been alone while surrounded by people my entire life. And I know I have you, Glenn, and Enid...but it’s not the same,” he whispered, feeling his eyes sting a little, “It’s not like what I feel for the both of them.���

“Have you told them?” Maggie asked.

“Oh yeah, just let me tell my friends who are a couple that I have feelings for the both of them,” Paul snorted. He smiled when Dog ran up on the porch and got up, wincing slightly as he did, opening the door to let him in.

“You should get back in bed,” Maggie told him, “You need to be on bedrest and I don’t wanna hear Alex coming to complain to me.

Paul sighed, “I know,” he winced.

“Take your pain meds,” Maggie sighed, “And...think about tellin’ them how you feel. You know they won’t mind,” she said before walking away.

Paul sighed, putting out the joint and tucking it into the box again. Before he could get inside though, another familiar voice interrupted him.

“Paul,” Alex called, walking up to his trailer, “I wanted to make sure you were taking your medication.”

“Yes,” Paul snapped.

Alex squinted at him, “Are you high?”

“No,” Paul sighed, crossing his arms.

“Don’t do that, it pulls on your stitches,” Alex sighed as well. He walked up the steps and held out a plastic bag, “Ginger. Put it in your tea, it’ll help with joint pain if you get stiff.”

“Thanks,” Paul said quietly, taking the bag.

“You should be taking your pain meds,” Alex said again.

“You should keep your nose out of my business,” Paul mumbled, “We aren’t together anymore. I’m not your business anymore.”

“You’re my patient.”

“Then let’s keep it professional.”

Alex sighed again, scrubbing a frustrated hand through his hair, “So that’s just...it? We’re over?”

“I think I’ve made that abundantly clear,” Paul mumbled, looking down at the bag and picking at it awkwardly, “If you want me to see someone else, I’ll stay in Alexandria through the rest of my recovery.”

“No, Paul, just…” Alex trailed off and let out a frustrated noise, “I don’t understand what you want here.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” Paul said quickly, “Why can’t you just get that I don’t...feel the same way about you now? You fucked up, not me!”

“I was drunk!” Alex yelled, “Give me a break! We’re both smart people, Paul, we know that’s not why!”

“Oh, please, enlighten me on the real reason,” Paul scoffed.

“Because of them!” Alex gestured to the house, “You have feelings for them both and don’t lie to me about it!”

Paul stayed silent and swallowed, “So what if I do?”

“They’re together, nothing is ever going to come of it,” Alex snapped, “So just accept it. There’s no need to be a homewrecker over this.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Paul demanded.

“What’s goin’ on out here?” Daryl finally demanded, swinging open the door.

“Sorry I woke you,” Paul mumbled.

“Coffee smell woke me, not you,” Daryl snapped, not taking his eyes off of Alex, “Then I heard a dumbass out here yellin’, figured I’d come to investigate.”

Dog’s head peered out the door, always close behind him.

Alex left pretty quick after that, not looking for a second break in his nose. He was kind of dumb, Paul thought, but he knew better than to cross someone who wouldn’t put up with his shit.

“Ya smell like weed,” Daryl deadpanned.

Paul just shrugged.

“You high?” Daryl asked, staring at him.

“No, just smoked enough to take the edge off,” Paul whispered, “I woke up and my chest hurt more than usual.”

“Take your pain meds, Paul,” Daryl said quietly, opening the door wide enough, gesturing for him to come inside, “And get your ass inside, it’s cold.”

Paul just rolled his eyes and walked back in.

Paul sat in his room, his back against the wall and his eyes closed as he leaned his head back. He didn’t like pain meds. These ones didn’t make him drowsy or anything, he just...never liked them. He came from parents who were both heavy addicts, though he’d never tell anyone that. They were the reason he ended up in the home, after he was taken away from them.

Paul always told the counselors at the shelter that they were the reason for his “emotional connection problem,” since they never showed any interest in caring for him.

Ron and Ann Monroe, A+ parents.

Paul wondered if they were still out there somewhere, sometimes.

Then he remembered he didn’t care.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his train of thought. He quickly marked the page of his book that he’d been stuck on for the better part of the hour and sat it on his bedside table before walking over to the door. He smiled slightly when he saw Aaron, “Yeah?”

“Uh...just wanted to check on you and bring you some tea,” Aaron said, holding up the cup, “Daryl said you finally took your meds.”

“Yeah, he pestered me long enough,” Paul said, taking the cup and setting it on his dresser beside the door, “Thank you.”

“He also said Alex stopped by,” Aaron pursed his lips, “And that he heard somethings.”

“He isn’t my keeper, he doesn’t need to worry about me,” Paul said and sighed, “That goes for both of you. I don’t need someone to baby me, Aaron, I’ve been on my own all my life.”

“Paul,” Aaron said, sounding genuinely frustrated for the first time since Paul met him, “You don’t have to be alone anymore. We’re here...we’re staying in Hilltop, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Really?” Paul asked quietly, shuffling his feet.

“Well, yeah,” Aaron explained, “There’s already people living in my old house, since I moved out and Daryl can’t live in Alexandria with him there, as much as he’d like to be closer to Rick. He just...doesn’t deal well there. We’ve tried, it’s just not happening.”

“Oh,” Paul mumbled, not saying anything.

“Hey,” Aaron said, making him look up at the tone of voice, “No one is babying you. Daryl and I...we’re so happy to see you just alive and breathing. Sorry if it seems like we’re hovering, but...we really thought we lost you for a minute there. A-And we can’t...we can’t lose someone else, especially you, Paul.”

Paul felt his eyes sting slightly and he quickly looked away, trying to hide it.

And then Aaron was kissing him.

Aaron was kissing him.

Aaron!

Aaron leaned down to meet his lips and Paul would never admit how easy it was for him to kiss back. He’d wanted this with him for so long..

The door opened and Paul pulled away quickly. He froze for a moment when he saw Daryl and moved away, slamming the door in Aaron’s face.

So maybe he locked himself in his room.

As he said...emotional problems.

[davieslandon]

Discord Thread || Landon&Roman-02

Discord text thread featuring: Landon & @romanbeckett

When: 15th April 2021

Mentions: @aaronhart93 @ancstasio

Description: Landon and Roman have a conversation about his fight with Aaron. 

Trigger Warnings: N/A

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Roman couldn’t think of a single time in the last nearly 24 years of friendship between himself and Landon, that he’d ever dreaded a talk this much. He was in between his partner, and his best friend, watching the two of them hurt each other time after time, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was supposed to pick sides here. But, regardless of what was actually said here, Roman needed to know both sides before even thinking about how he’d handle them. “Lan?” He asked from the doorway of Landon’s apartment, balancing bags of Chinese food in both hands, waiting for confirmation from his friend before he stepped all the way inside. 

LANDON

Throughout all their years of friendship, Landon could always count on Roman having his back. His sarcasm and tendency to sass people out sometimes got him in trouble but he always knew that Roman would be by his side to support him. Knowing that might not be the case anymore hurt and it was the biggest reason why he was so hesitant to hang out with the other today. He knew he couldn't run away from this forever though so when Roman walked in, he was sitting in front of the tv with a series going on that he wasn't even watching. "In here", he called out, muting the tv as Roman walked in. "Hey."

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

The second Roman saw his best friend, the taller Brit felt like he might actually burst into tears. The stress of all this useless fighting was starting to become a heavy weight on his shoulders, and the need to keep everyone afloat was suffocating. It was hard to ignore shit when all of this drama involved the people he cared the most about in his life. Was he supposed to pick one or the other? How was he going to fix this? “Hey. Got your favorite.” He sat the bags down on Landon’s coffee table, and then took a seat next to the smaller. “So. How’re you feeling? Be honest.” Ro went ahead and ripped off the bandaid, trying to keep a neutral tone in the process. 

LANDON

Be honest...like that was easy to do. Him and Roman might be best friends but he wasn’t about to forget that he was also dating Aaron. Landon would try his best to be as honest as possible but he would also make sure to keep the insults directed at Aaron to a minimum. The fact that ha barely gave a second look to his favourite was probably a good indication of how he was feeling. “How am I feeling? My best mate told me out of the blue that he doesn’t want to go into business with me anymore because of who I’m dating after Ashton called me a traitor.  Said guy also told me I’m overreacting when I was upset about it so how do you think I’m feeling?” Just talking about it was enough for Landon’s anger to make a reappearance but he made an effort to stay calm. Roman wasn’t the one he was angry with.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Roman simply looked at Landon while he spoke, feeling even more like shit as he was given information, all of which he feared he already knew. He loved Aaron so much, but what was going on between the two of them right now just wasn’t okay. As much as he’d like to be able to stand by his boyfriend, Landon was his oldest friend, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin, and now he was being mistreated because of someone he was dating, and that just...it was wrong. “I have to admit...I’m a little jarred by all of this as well. I know Aaron doesn’t like Stas, but that shouldn’t have anything to do with your friendship with Aaron, and especially the business side of things.” The actor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair before averting his gaze to the untouched food on the table. “I’ll admit, I don’t know the full extent of Aaron’s history with Stas. I’ve known Stas longer in fact, and have never had a bad experience with him. I also just want you to be happy, and that’s all that matters to me. Are you happy? With Stas?” 

LANDON

Landon couldn’t help the way his eyes widened a little at Roman’s words. He was expecting the other to defend his boyfriend and tell him that he was overreacting, just like Aaron did. So to hear Roman say that his feelings about this were valid was a welcome relief. “I don’t know either and that just angers me even more because every time I ask him he just says it’s a family thing and that it’s complicated. So I can’t date someone I like because of Hart family drama he can’t even remember? I asked Stas about it and he told me it was just stupid family drama from ages ago”, he said, getting more heated with each word. “I am...I’m very happy. He’s great with the kids and things are just easy with him.” 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Roman of course listened to his friend, feeling like there was a weight getting heavier and heavier on his chest as the words came out. Landon was clearly hurting, and it was because of Roman’s boyfriend. That was a hard pill to swallow, and it sucked that he technically had no choice but to be in the middle of it. “Well, that’s all I want, is for you to be happy. And, if Stas is good to both you and Elle, that’s all that matters.” He reached out to place a hand on the smaller’s shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze in an attempt to provide a certain level of comfort. “I’m always gonna be here for you. You know that, right?” 

LANDON

“But that’s obviously not all that matters, is it?” he asked, turning to look at Roman, eyes shining with tears that he refused to shed. “I told Aaron that he makes me happy and he just told me that as long as I’m dating him then he can’t go into business with me. That sounds like he’s making me choose between the business and dating Stas. According to Aaron that’s not the case though since that’s not the exact words he used.” He knew that Roman would always be there for him and that provided some level of comfort but it didn’t make him feel any less hurt over Aaron’s attitude towards him. “You know what the cherry on the cake was? That he came over to ‘talk to me like adults’ and when I made it clear I was upset with him and why he told me what I’m really upset about is you guys dating because I’m still in love with you. I mean...he treats me like shit but no there’s no way I’m angry about that it all comes back to you and I.”

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Roman caught Landon’s eyes when he looked at him like that, appearing closer to tears than he’d seen the man be in years. Landon wasn’t one to cry, or get overly emotional over things. This was really a huge deal, and clearly Aaron had hurt him more than the businessman could ever realize. Ro hated everything he was hearing, feeling like he was being punched in the gut with every word out of the smaller’s mouth. Aaron had told Roman that Landon was upset because he was still in love with him as well, but the actor never jumped to that conclusion for himself. He knew there was more to this, that Landon had simply been worn down with every swing at Aaron and Landon’s friendship, and Ro couldn’t fucking handle the thought of not being able to reconcile this. “I know this isn’t about me.” He assured the other, just wanting to clear the air in that regard. “I wish I had a solution here, or even the right thing to say. I guess I’m just...stunned.” 

LANDON

It was a relief to hear that Roman didn’t believe what Aaron said; that this was all because he was jealous of their relationship. Was he completely over Roman? Probably not and he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he may never completely stop loving him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be with other people and come to love them as well and he knew Roman was happy with Aaron and Quentin, that was enough for him. Did that mean that he could never be upset with what Aaron did because it would be assumed he’s jealous for Roman? “So am I. I thought I could be trusted, especially after everything. I mean, I’m still around after so much happened but apparently not.” Landon was in the same boat as Roman; he couldn’t really see a solution either. “I’m just tired of this Ro. I’m not breaking up with Stas, he’s been nothing but wonderful to me. Can you look me in the eye and honestly say that Aaron’s been the same?” He knew it wasn’t fair to put the other in this position but he needed to know; needed to hear it from someone else. 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

“Lan, I don’t think it has anything to do with trusting you, though I agree that it’s hard not to take it that way.” The actor sighed, and then reached to tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning forward to start getting out there food since they should at least consider eating it while it was hot. “Aaron was making it out to be like it was because he doesn’t trust Stas, but I’m not quite sure how that would effect anything  as well. I know him, and he wouldn’t do anything.” He turned to look at his friend, keeping eye contact with him through his question. “I know you two have had a rough go lately, but I can’t give up hope that someday things could be fixed. I have to believe that, because I can’t stand to even think of the alternative.” 

LANDON

It was good that at least Roman knew Stas as well and could vouch for him that he wasn’t the kind of person to do that. “He wouldn’t and even if he wanted to, which I know he doesn’t, he couldn’t actually do anything.” This was something that’s been giving him mixed feelings about everything. “Stas doesn’t actually know that I was planning on going in business with Aaron; I never told him. It’s not that I don’t trust him but I’m not a complete idiot unlike what Aaron and Ashton seem to think. I know the two are business rivals so I wasn’t about to say anything before we had anything concrete to go on. Maybe that makes me a bad boyfriend, I don’t know. But if that doesn’t prove to Aaron that I was serious about the soccer bar than nothing can.” Landon picked up the takeaway box with the fried rice and opened it up. He still wasn’t really hungry but if Roman went through all the trouble of getting food for them, he wasn’t about to let it go to waste. “That’s all well and good Ro but it’s not what I asked and you know it. You know me well but so do I and I know when you’re trying to deflect.” 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Roman blinked at his friend for a few seconds until he reached up to scratch his head. He wasn’t completely sure what the smaller wanted him to say here, he was already stuck in the position of a middle man here, trying to bring peace between his boyfriend, and his best friend. This was the shittiest place to be right now, but he wasn’t about to back out of anything now. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.” The actor muttered, looking down at his hands because he was honestly too worried to look in his friend’s eyes. “I don’t like what’s happened, but Aaron is still my boyfriend. I don’t want to put his intentions under fire. We all make mistakes, sometimes huge ones. But you still have every right to feel how you want to feel about it, or react how you wanna react.” 

LANDON

It kind of felt to him like Roman was going around in circles in an attempt not to give him a clear answer but that only confirmed Landon’s suspicions even more. “Nothing Ro, there’s nothing I want you to say”, he sighed, taking a few bites from his food. “I don’t want to put you in the middle and that’s why I didn’t even want to talk about this in the first place. I just...I’m the one who isn’t sure if I can trust him anymore, which is ironic considering what he said to me.” Where did that leave them? Landon wasn’t sure, but he was done getting over everything in an attempt to save their friendship. “I guess I’m not sure what you want me to say either. That everything’s okay? That we’re going back to how we were before and forget about everything? Because let me tell you straight away, that’s not going to happen.” 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

“I know you feel that way, and I’m not saying you don’t have a right to. Aaron hasn’t given me a reason not to trust him, but that doesn’t mean I expect it to be the same for you.” He leveled with his friend, looking over the smaller before letting out a soft sigh. This wasn’t going to go anywhere, and he’d already known that going into this conversation, but it wasn’t about that anyway. Landon needed, and deserved someone to talk to, to verbalize his feelings, and who better to do that with than his best friend? “I know it’s not gonna happen, and I didn’t expect you to say that. I just wanted to hear how you felt, that’s it. I don’t expect anything from you. I promise.” 

LANDON

It was hard not to assume Roman would want him to make up with Aaron no matter the cost, not when he and Aaron were in a relationship and he found himself in between their argument. There was even a time when Landon would have done just that. Aaron was in a relationship with the guy he used to be in love with after all and he managed to get over it. But that was the problem. He got over Aaron and Roman dating, the businessman giving away his longest kept secret and...now he was supposed to get over this as well? It was too much for him and, although he was sorry that Roman was in this situation because of him, it wasn't going to be enough this time. "Okay...thanks, I guess. And I am sorry that you're in this situation. I know it can't be easy. But I just can't this time." 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

“I know.” Ro sucked both lips into his mouth for a moment as he looked at Landon, and then averted his gaze to the ground. He hadn’t come here to make Landon feel worse, or to make anything awkward between them. He knew before he even walked through that door that nothing was going to change Landon’s mind, so lord knows he wasn’t gonna waste his time trying to convince him. It wouldn’t be fair anyway. Landon was the one who got hurt after all, it was his decision how to deal with it. “I’m happy for you and Stas. I can tell you make each other happy, and that’s all I could ever want for you.” @landon24 April 2021

LANDON

Landon hated that this is what they were reduced to...feeling awkward around each other because of his argument with Aaron. Maybe it shouldn’t shock him so much considering how they were pretty much always arguing but this time it just felt different. At least Roman was supportive of him and Stas. One would think that would be proof enough to Aaron that they were good together, with both Jaycee and Roman saying they were great together but Aaron was always stubborn; sometimes even more than him. “Thanks, it means a lot to at least have your support in this. Hart family drama aside.” He couldn’t help that last dig at Aaron, this was Landon after all. 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Roman sighed, clenching his jaw as he looked down at his hands while trying to think of an appropriate response to that. He knew Aaron wasn’t perfect, maybe even better than anyone else because he saw his boyfriend in every way a person could be seen. All of the good, the bad, and the indifferent. He knew how stubborn the man was, just as much as he knew Landon was the same way. They were more alike than either would probably like to admit. “He’s starting to see that now, and I guess better late than never. But, what is meant to happen will happen, and I’ll be here for you both regardless. You were my first friend when it felt like no one else cared. I’ll always be thankful for that, and to have you in my life.” 

LANDON

Landon almost said that it was too little too late but but his tongue at the last second. His problem wasn’t with Roman and it wasn’t fair to take out his frustrations on him. It was already surprising that Roman was still here at all, this was his boyfriend they were talking about. “Even if I say that I never want to talk to him again?” That’s not something that Landon really thought could happen but he wanted to see what his friend thought about it regardless. 

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Of course this was hard to swallow. Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more Roman just wanted to burst into tears. If he could have it his way, everyone would forgive and forget, and they could move forward as a family. That’s what everyone here in Kingsboro was to the actor anyway. They all loved each other so much, it was hard to imagine a life in which they were torn apart forever. “I mean. Obviously I don’t want that to be the case, but what can I do? I can’t force you to move past anything. I’d never expect you to. I just wish I could fix it.” 

LANDON

Landon knew this was a tough situation for Roman. His best friend and his boyfriend at odds and Landon was telling him that might never change. He didn’t want to be in his shoes, that’s for sure. But he did appreciate that at least Roman wasn’t trying to force him to get over it or expect him to forgive with no repercussions or second thoughts. “I know you do and I’m sorry, that you’re in this position because of us...because of me.” That was all he could really offer though as he knew that saying things would be okay would just be empty promises and Roman wouldn’t appreciate that. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I just want to spend some time with my best friend and forget about everything else going on.” Easier said than done but they had to try. “Thank you...for always being there for me.”

[dontshootmespence]

Through the Lens

Part 4

Back-to-back shows in one day was hectic to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. As you were readying your camera, Prentiss invited you backstage. Apparently, she’d seen a number of your spreads before and was wondering if you’d take pictures of life backstage at one of her shows. It was a spur of the moment thing, but it was also a rare opportunity; it was so insane between clothes and makeup and models and makeup artists that normally others weren’t allowed backstage, but Prentiss ran a smooth operation, where everyone and everything had its job, leaving room to move around.

“It’s a lot to take in isn’t it?” She asked, laughing as you spun around, your mouth hanging open as you realized she’d been talking to you this entire time. Between the craziness of everything and Prentiss’ up-close beauty, you hadn’t heard a thing, so you just nodded.

“It’s insane, but I love it.” With your camera ready to go, you started clicking away, watching as a sea of color – pastel pinks, deep reds, maroons, navy blues, and blacks – waved themselves in front of your eyes. Though you weren’t a journalist, you also asked a few questions of other models and makeup artists backstage, inching closer and closer to wear JJ was getting prepared with her first outfit, a black dress with a sheer top adorned with black flowers and a printed silk organza skirt inspired by Indian kalamkari.

Was it cheesy to say that JJ looked like a vision?

Because God did you want to go over and kiss her. She looked stunning, but your relationship was still a secret, so you made eye contact with her and took a picture of her. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that Prentiss had noticed. “Don’t worry. You’re secret is safe with me.”

“What secret?” you asked clumsily, trying to play it off. 

Prentiss, who’d insisted you call her Emily, just clicked her tongue. “I may be busy, but I notice things.”

Hopefully, she’d keep her promise. 

After taking a few more pictures, you thanked Emily again for allowing you backstage. “Seriously, thank you so much. Your work is absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you,” she replied sincerely. “With all the traveling I’ve done, I had to have my clothes reflect that.”

As she departed, you say that JJ was heading toward her makeup chair, so you decided to follow her. “I’ve been assigned to Elle Greenaway.” Elle was very well-known throughout the makeup industry for her cruelty free makeup line boasting 35+ shades of foundation, and her desire to continue serving as a makeup artist on occasion despite being a business owner. “She’s fantastic. She’s done my makeup before.”

“Hello, Ms. Greenaway,” you said, extending your hand as JJ sat down. “Jennifer has been telling me about you.”

Leaning down, she kissed both of JJ’s cheeks. “Stunning as always, JJ. Very neutral for this outfit. And please, call me Elle,” she said to you. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N, right? Up and coming photographer?” Was it okay to fangirl? You had a secret, hot girlfriend, a veteran designer had just invited you backstage and now a world-famous makeup artist and entrepreneur had heard of you. Life was pretty fucking sweet.

“I am her. I love your line. Foundation and lip gloss specifically.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, her own lip stain shining under the bright lights backstage. “Now, my beautiful canvas. Let’s get to work.”

Within 10 minutes, JJ had tasteful and neutral makeup on, and she was ready to go. As you looked around, you saw that it was just about time, so you said your goodbyes to Elle, wished JJ good luck, and headed outside.

In addition to the vast array of colors Prentiss used, she was also a fan of floral patterns paired with black; JJ had told you earlier that she was a perfect mixture of sugar and spice. You barely stayed still the entire show. By the time it was over, you were practically sweating, and more than ready for a good night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, JJ got caught by a former model and friend Haley Hotchner, wife of Spencer’s agent, Aaron, which was probably how the group of them had become such good friends. But JJ didn’t want to bail because she’d have to tell them why, and the two of you were really enjoying your privacy right now.

JJ: You sure you’re okay with that?

Y/N: Of course, babe. I’m exhausted anyway. I’m going back home to sleep.

JJ: Okay good. See you tomorrow <3

Normally, you weren’t the type to read into emojis, but that was the first time she’d used the heart emoji and you might’ve melted into the floor.

The next two days went by quickly, with JJ walking for Nina Tiari and Balenciaga. The tabloids were going crazy over her; she was able to wear anything and people were all over her because of it. You’d also attended Hermes, where Spencer was walking again. JJ had a seat, but at the last minute, Blake had asked you to cover Hermes, so you and Spencer walked in the same entrance. 

An unbelievable ocean of lights caught you off guard, but Spencer placed his hand on your shoulders and ushered you inside. “Is that what the life of a male model is like? Constant cameras and men and women fawning over you?” You laughed.

“The model life in general. I don’t really understand it. I just like nice clothes.” Spencer said, snorting as he thought about the absurdity of it all. “I love wearing them. I love learning about them. The rest of it is…whatever.”

JJ felt the same way. It’s probably why they got along so well. Before heading toward the side of the runway where she could get some good shots, she was introduced to Aaron Hotchner, his agent. “Nice to meet you.” He had a strong and firm handshake, but was very friendly, his smile carefree, but his manner of speech was all business. “Maybe one day you can do a spread for Spencer here? An up-and-coming photographer? Might be good for your portfolio,” he said to Spencer. 

“Are you always business?” Spencer teased. “That does sound great though. If you wouldn’t mind of course.” 

“Of course not, I’d love to,” you replied, pulling Blake’s card out of your wallet. You always had one on hand. “Why don’t you give Alex Blake a call and we can set it up? I’m sure she’d love to expand the company’s portfolio as well.”

After the show was over, you caught up with JJ and Spencer met up with Luke. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a statuesque, muscular man and an eccentrically dressed woman making their way toward JJ. “Derek! Penelope! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” She gave them both a hug and introduced everyone. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, when I was trying to get those tickets to Marchesa, I was actually able to pull a couple more than I intended, and I haven’t had some one-on-one time with my babygirl and right hand man in a long time, so we’re headed to Marchesa too.” The two seemed an odd pair from the outside, but they talked to each other like they were made for each other.

On the way to Marchesa, everyone’s wind down at the end of a long yet exciting week, you sat next to JJ in the limo. “Are they dating? The CEO and the CTO?”

“No,” JJ laughed. “They’re like flirty best friends.”

Whatever it was they were, they were adorable together. Marchesa was always a big show, so you were able to blend in with the group you were with – designer, Luke Alvez, model, Spencer Reid, his agent, Aaron Hotchner, JJ, yourself, and two of JJ’s bosses. Anyone and everyone was here, as the tabloids liked to say.

The group of you made your way through the abundance of paparazzi before making your way inside and enjoying the show. Marchesa had a way of beautifully combining menswear and their signature flirty, femininity. “That pantsuit,” you breathed to JJ. “I’m not even a wearer of fashion, obviously,” you chuckled, “But I could rock that. It’s gorgeous.”

“You absolutely would,” Penelope said. Moments later another model came strutting down the runway in a beautiful red dress, the material of which was gathered to look like flowers. “I would rock that.”

Derek laughed and pulled her closer. “I’ll buy it for you and you can wear it around the office.” 

“Why aren’t we dating again?” She laughed. “You know how to make a girl feel special.” 

As a photographer it was your job to sell the clothing whether or not you liked it, and most of the time, you liked most, and disliked a few, but there was literally nothing in this year’s Marchesa line-up that you didn’t love; it was absolutely stunning, delicately crafted, and innovative as hell.

“Alright,” JJ said as the show came to a close and everyone started to get up. “You two and us. Dinner. Two days from now?” That firmed up your unofficial double date with Spencer and Luke.

You said goodbye to all your new friends and left with JJ, getting picked up by her driver and heading to your apartment to pick up some clothes. It was time for relaxing. Because she lived in an apartment, she’d booked the weekend at a gorgeous and isolated hotel just outside the city and within a few hours, you’d arrived. “This is gorgeous,” you said, awestruck at the warm and inviting lobby.

“I’m going to check us in, okay?” Her hand grazed yours and there was no one else in the lobby, so she pressed a kiss to the side of your cheek. You could not wait to be alone. This week had been amazing, but you wanted time with your girlfriend again.

When you got to your room, you pinned JJ to the bed and ran your hands up underneath her shirt. “I’ve been dying for some alone time,” you laughed against her collarbone.

“I can see that,” she exclaimed, taking your lips in a sweet, but searing kiss. “How about we go to grab a later dinner and then we can come back here for dessert?” She winked, the barely-veiled insinuation sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” you hissed. “I like that idea.”

Between checking into the room and getting changed for dinner, it was an hour before you were in the restaurant and placing your order. Suddenly, JJ felt a buzzing in her pocket. “Derek? What’s wrong?”

He must’ve said something that rubbed her the wrong way, because she said nothing else, hung up and started staring at her phone.

“JJ?” You asked, wondering if she’d gotten some bad news. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed hard, her brow furrowing as she turned the phone toward you. The headline read:

Does Stunning Model Jennifer Jareau Have a New Woman in Her Life?

Underneath the headline was a picture of them standing in the lobby. Someone had followed you here. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered. She looked distraught.

So your relationship was out? It wasn’t the end of the world, right?

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange @obsessed5sosfreak @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1 @ace-and-rosey @blakendores @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @offbrandcursewords @entelechysymphony @milkandcookies528 @pugs-cats-bb-8 @davidr0ssi @sarahkay-19 @alexialoveseverlark @gigglyprentiss @myhogwartslibrary @stunudo @the-slytherin-ice-queen @ultrarebelheart @arizonalovesher

If you want to be tagged in future installments, like this post! 

[amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes]

Reap What You Sow

Author’s Note: Oh dear, I’m late and I do apologize. This is my second prompt and second submission for #Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge. My prompt was Negan x Sasha. 

 Word Count: 2,127

Paring: Negan x Sasha

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, some angst when you realize how I set it up. I hurt my own feelings tbh.

Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @genevievedarcygranger, @negans-network

The breeze felt good against her warm skin. The hot Georgia sun had been unforgiving and a breeze was hard to come by. Sasha closed her eyes and tried to make the moment last as long as she could. If she could bottle the breeze and carry it around with her, she would. Closing her eyes, she felt the intensity of the wind die down and she knew her small reprieve from the heat was coming to an end. Oh well, at least she had something. And something was better than nothing.

Sitting in the driver's seat of the old pickup truck, Sasha took a deep breath and smiled. The soft smell of lavender filled her lungs and seemed to clear her mind. Exactly what she needed. This had been her favorite hiding spot. There would be many a day where she would sneak off with snacks and water and books and sit in the truck for hours. Not having any doors to restrict her movements, the truck was positioned in the perfect location so she had a good vantage point; she could hear the Geeks approaching and she’d see the living before they’d see her. She found it by accident on a scavenge trip with Aaron and it became her get away. Perfect for when she needed to be alone and clear her head.

Like now. Too much was going on at home. First issue was that Rick wanted to attack this group of people we didn’t know based solely on the word of another group of people we also didn’t know. And second there was trouble in paradise. Or as close as paradise would get nowadays. Abraham and his indecisiveness was diving Sasha crazy. One night he’s leaving Rosita and the next he’s back in her bed. Sasha snorted at the thought and tapped her fingers on the wheel. All this stress was enough to drive one to drink.

“Stupid men. Who needs them?” Sasha grumbled to no one in particular.

“Yeah, stupid me. Fuck em. Amiright?” a deep voice responded causing Sasha to nearly jump out of the truck. She didn’t hear anyone walk up on her and she instantly became upset with herself that she left herself be snuck up on. In a instant her hand was on the gun at her waist and she pointed it at the direction of the voice. Peeking out of the driver’s side, she saw a tall man leaning casually against the trunk bed. He was dressed in a white tee shirt with black jeans and black boots. A knife was fastened to the belt loops of his jeans and over his shoulder he had what looked like a baseball bat over his shoulder. Sasha eyed his cautiously as she pointed her gun at him. He smirked at her, not seeming to be alarmed that she was pointing a gun at him.

“Well aren’t you a beauty.” he complimented as he eyed her up and down slowly. Sasha frowned as she continued to take a mental note of him.

“Who are you?” she asked as he unceasingly drank her body in. She was on the verge of clearing her throat to bring his attention to his her face when he finally brought his eyes back to her face.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be.” he replied, his deep voice seductive. Sasha scoffed and lowered her gun but still kept it poised in his direction. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pointing a gun at you.” Sasha gestured towards the gun before looking back to him.

“And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pointing one right back at you. Except, you can’t see mine. But if you ask nicely, I’ll let you see it.” he mocked, gestured towards his crotch. Sasha scoffed again and shook her head. She assumed that this new man must have been crazy since he was out wandering alone with just a baseball bat as protection. She figured that maybe she’d try to get some information out of him.  

“Hey mister. Do you know anything about a group called the Saviors?” she asked as she moved the gun to rest against her hip, the barrel pointing towards the ground. Sasha studied his face and watched for any signs of deceit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked at her curiously.

“What about the Saviors? Who wants to know?” he asked amused. He shifted from one foot to the other and moved the bat to tap on his boot. Sasha was stunned to see that the bat was wrapped in barbed wire and eyed it warily. His eyes followed her gazed and lifted the bat so she could get a better look. Sasha reflextafly took a step back and her fingers twitched around the gun’s trigger.

“This is Lucille.” he announced proudly while pointing the bat and extending it towards Sasha. “And she is awesome.” he finished, speaking affectionately of the bat. Sasha nodded and for the briefest of moments she contemplated shooting him coming to the conclusion that he must be insane. Relaxing her grip on the gun, she studied him. He was handsome, there was no debate about that with hazel eyes that conveyed boyish charm but there was also another element there that was sending warnings to Sasha that she couldn’t decipher.

“So beautiful, you got a name? Why are you out here all alone and why do you want to know about the Saviors?” he asked taking a step forward, reaching the back passenger side of the truck. Sasha eyed the bat again as he began to twirl it now in his left hand away from the truck.

“Name’s Sasha, I’m taking a break and I just wanna know.” she answered matter of factly with a shrug. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Me?” he pointed dramatically to himself. “I’m Negan.” he said proudly. Sasha sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes and the man looked at her with genuine dismay. Seeing the look on his face was the fuel for her fire and she let herself laugh.

“So you’re a Savior. That’s why you asked why I want to know. God, everyone is Negan.’” Sasha laughed ironically. Eyeing the man who stared back at her just as confused, Sasha put her gun away. “You’re not gonna tell me what I wanna know so why bother? Just go.” she sighed as she climbed back into the truck, its worn polyester having cooled from her missing body heat. She placed her elbows in the nooks of the steering wheel and rested her head in her hands. Just what she needed, more stress. The man walked to the driver side and leaned against the area where the door should close and watched her quietly.

“What if I want to stay here with you a little longer? Shoot the breeze and whatnot?” he spoke low leaning close so she could hear him. Sasha snorted with indignation and turned her head to look at him, her head still near the wheel.

“You're a Savior.” she responded matter of factly. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a ‘so what if I am’ look. Inching closer to her, he brushed against her thigh and Sasha froze. Side-eyeing him, she lifted her head from her hands and propped her elbows up on the wheel. “What are you doing, mister?”

“What was that you were saying? Men being stupid or what-fucking-ever?” he asked flashing her a brilliant smile that nearly threw her off guard. Sasha withdrew into herself and placed her head back into her hands. His comment brought back all the thoughts of Abraham and Rosita being together and Sasha sucked her teeth in annoyance.

“Men are stupid. End of discussion.” she responded curtly. Laughing the man reached out and began ran a long finger down her exposed arm, the touch sending an unwanted jolt of electricity throughout her body. She didn't flinch away however and instead sat back in the seat to get a good look at him.

“You know I have a gun, right? Any funny business and I'll blow your damn head off.” she warned, her eyes staring up at his sternly.

“No funny business here, ma’am. I just hate to see a woman not be taken care of. I can take care of you.” he offered, his deep voice laced with unspoken promises. Sasha huffed and turned to face him, her legs crossed inside the bed of the truck.

“Men always make promises they can't deliver on. What makes you so different, mister?” Sasha taunted, exhaling impatiently. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, the man sunk to his knees and placed a hand on her thigh, the other propping the bat Lucille against the front tire of the truck.

“Trust me.” he cooed as ran his hand up her thigh and gently squeezed. “I always deliver.” Sasha swallowed hard as an involuntary shiver traveled down her spine and seemed to rest in her groin. Every inner alert system was telling her to run, to scream, to take her gun and blow his brains out and decorate the lavender field red. But in the back of her mind there was also a small voice telling her that one time couldn’t hurt, Abraham was having his fun so why can’t you and if you were to have a one time rendezvous this guy wasn’t bad looking. Biting her lower lip, thoughts of Abraham and Rosita laying in bed together flooded her mind and she uncrossed her legs turning to him slightly.

“If you do anything I don’t like, we’re stopping. I mean it. I’m serious when I say no funny business, mister.” Sasha cautioned as she fully turned to him, allowing him to be partially between her legs. He nodded in agreement and ran his hands slowly up the front of her jeans. She watched as he expertly unfastened the button and then the zipper, his hands moving swiftly and with urgency. Sasha attempted to reason with herself once more as she felt him grip the waistband of her jeans and underwear yank them down to her halfway her calves, nearly pulling her off the truck seat. Sasha yelp as she blindly grabbing for the back of the seat, catching it before she could be dragged out out the truck. She look down at the man in wonder and realized that he had also taken her boots off; Sasha not even feeling them come off her feet. He had propped her legs up on his shoulders and was examining her. Using his fingers, he gently spread her outer lips and ran his thumb over her sensitive area. Sasha squirmed under his prying eyes and sighed as his touch sent a surge of pleasure to her core.

Noticing the increased moisture, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her thigh. He kissed her up her inner thigh to her now swollen lips and kissed them as if he were kissing a lover. Sasha moaned low and continued t o squirm, anxious for him to get to the prize. Bringing a hand up, he parted her lips once again and dipped his tongue into her opening, licking upwards in a circular motion and just missing her clit. Sasha whined as he repeated the cycle, each time his tongue delving deeper inside of her. Shifting forward, his nose brushed against her nub and Sasha moaned loudly, the brief contact setting her aflame. He smirked as he used his nose to nuzzle against her again and swirl his tongue around her now very sensitive clit before he latched his lips around her and sucked. Sasha’s hands instantly flexed around the seat as her hips bucked and she came, moaning louder than she intended to. Her legs clamped around his head and he laughed as he pried himself from her clutches. Standing, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared down at her in amusement.

“Did I fucking deliver?” he asked, clearly proud of himself. Sasha sat up and located her discarded jeans. Standing on wobbly legs, she pulled them back on and next her boots.

“Sure, if you say so.” she quipped back. He scoffed and looked affronted. He picked up the bat against the tire and began to walk away.

“Better get moving, the sun is setting. Next time maybe we meet, we can do more. That is if you’re agreeable to it.” he mused as he walked away. Sasha shook her head as she watched him disappear into the wooded area whence he came. She smiled to herself as she gathered her things and began to make her way home and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

[batwayneman]

Accomplice Chapter 6

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The sound of loud, rambunctious voices made Jim suspicious as he walked into GCPD for the beginning of his shift.

It had only been a few days since Batman had literally dropped all of Tolbert's crimes on them, and those days had been filled with silence, punctuated only by sporadic whispering of worries and conspiracy theories.

Neither Tolbert nor the captain had been seen since they had left the break room.

The exuberant voices grew louder as Jim walked down the hall, until he turned a corner and nearly ran into the source of the noise. The group of officers quieted slightly.

"Whoa, sorry Gordon," said the man - Jim recognized him as Aaron Brenner. He made no move to get out of the way.

To Jim's knowledge, he wasn't actually affiliated with any of the mobs, but was far too eager to demonstrate and abuse the power that he had as an officer for them to be anything more than coworkers.

Brenner, and the rest of the group he was with were displaying the same frenzied excitement in person that their voices had been, shifting around restlessly, grinning at each other.

He looked them over quickly, immediately spotting a new model of bullet-proof vests that they were all wearing. Brenner and a few others were also carrying guns that Jim didn't recognize as the officially sanctioned models that they were supposed to carry.

One of the men mock-held the gun as if he was going to shoot the ceiling, tilting it to admire in the light, and Jim caught the edge of the GCPD logo on the side.

Oh.

The never-underfunded GCPD must have gotten a new shipment of weapons in; these ones looked like they were more suited for the military than the police.

"New guns?" He finally asked, taking the bait. The way they were flaunting their guns around made it clear they were desperate for someone to ask about them.

“Oh, this?" Brenner held up the gun like he had only just noticed it in his hand. "Commish put together a task force to take down the Bat vigilante. Spoke to the Mayor and got us some new gear to protect us." He was unable to keep a smirk off his face as he thumped his vest.

"Right," Jim said, inflectionless, hiding the anger flooding his veins.

They had gotten bullet-proof vests to protect against someone who had never once used a gun, and guns to shoot someone that few people had ever seen.

It was such a transparent, dishonest reason to bring more dangerous firepower into Gotham that Jim saw red. Last week Batman took down an arms dealer and they had celebrated, and today the commissioner brought in new arms himself.

How long would it take this time for the mobs and criminals to get this new model onto the streets?

It might already be too late, if the commissioner and Falcone used the same manufacturer.

Jim bit his tongue. Not only was the commissioner using Batman as an excuse to endanger Gotham's civilians by giving trigger-happy cops bigger and better guns, but he only seemed to care about the vigilante because Batman had gone after a cop for the first time.

The commissioner had ignored a potential threat against Gotham for months; only bothering to care after a move had been made against a police officer.

And the fact that Batman had probably already brought in more criminals than Brenner had in his whole career did not make Jim any less bitter.

"Well, good luck," Jim finally choked out, starting to side-step around them.

"Wait! Wait-wait, I just remembered!" Brenner said, suddenly excited again. "The commish wanted to see you in his office! Wanted to talk to you, or something."

Jim froze in place for a second, dread and annoyance settling heavy in his stomach.

"Great, thanks," he said, more sarcastically than he meant to, but the group didn't seem to notice his irritation.

When he ducked into one of the side hallways to go upstairs to the commissioner's office, Brenner and his friends had gone back to talking loudly in the middle of the hallway, ready to interrupt the next person to brag about their new guns.

Jim knocked once before entering the commissioner's office, not bothering to wait to be invited in.

He had once made Jim wait for half an hour outside of his office while he was on the phone, and Jim didn't intend to give him the chance to do so again.

"You wanted to see me?"

Commissioner Fred Eaton looked up from his computer, and his mouth ticked downwards into a frown.

Even just sitting behind a huge, rather ugly desk, Eaton had the air of smugness to him. He was a fit man; all the charity fundraisers and mob dinners didn't weigh on body him like it did some other men. Grey hair that was always kept perfectly neat, and a clean-shaven face with his expensive suits made him always look presentable for phoney photo ops.

He didn't look particularly ready for a picture now though, with his face twisted into a look of faint disgust, like he smelled something rotten but he was trying not to show it.

Jim's face probably looked the same.

"Yes, Detective Gordon. How's your, uh," he paused, "your, uh, case going?"

"It finished a few days ago, the paperwork will be done soon."

"Good, good," he said with a fake smile, glancing down a pile of papers on his desk.

"What do you want?" Jim said, sparing both of them from this going on any longer than it had to.

Eaton's mouth twisted further into a scowl, but he didn't say anything about Jim's rudeness.

"You were there, the other day, when the... Bat vigilante... left those files in the break room, yes?"

"Yes," Jim agreed slowly. Surely he wasn't in here to be punished for the near-fight with Tolbert, when other man had literally betrayed the most powerful mob in Gotham?

"Detective Tolbert has had to...leave the city, and-"

"Yes, I don't imagine that Falcone likes it when his people kill each other," Jim interrupted frankly. Eaton swallowed, visibly reining back his anger.

"As I was saying, Tolbert has had to leave Gotham, but unfortunately it seems Captain Graham has followed suit."

It took Jim a few seconds to process what the commissioner had said. "The captain left too? I didn't know he was named in any of the files."

"Er, no, he wasn't," he broke off again. The silence stretched between them, as Eaton tried to think of a reasonable excuse for why someone would abandon their prestigious job as a captain, that wasn't 'he was going to be killed by the mob'.  

"You can admit that he was with Falcone too, it's not a secret," Jim said sourly.

Sighing, Eaton ran his hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted and forlorn.

"Captain Graham was supposed to be supervising Tolbert's... activities," Eaton admitted.

Jim twitched his eyebrows down slightly. "Funny, as a captain, I thought he was supposed to supervise all of the detectives, not just the ones in the mob's pocket," he said, trying to keep the tension out of his voice.

They stared at each other for an instant, before Eaton huffed out a bitter laugh with a small shake of his head.

"Well Detective Gordon," he said, grabbing some papers off his desk and straightening them, before walking around his desk to stand in front of Jim, "since you know so much about being captain, why don't you do it?"

Jim stiffened, looking at the paperwork in his hand and back at the man himself. "Excuse me?"

"The reason that I called you to my office was to tell you that you're replacing Graham. Congratulations," Eaton said, voice dripping sarcasm. He was unable to keep the smug smirk off his face, thoroughly enjoying one-upping Jim.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Jim demanded, angry now. He had been qualified for years to be a captain, and he knew that it was his stout refusal to do business with the mob that had kept him from the promotion.

Until now, apparently.

The commissioner just tilted his head in mock-confusion.

Jim exhaled through his teeth. "Why now?" He clarified, once he was sure that had control of his voice again.

"Because it is required that someone is named captain for our files. Don't worry, absolutely nothing else is changing. It's a puppet title; all decisions will be made by me," Eaton smiled maliciously.

"If you don't want someone to do the actual job, there are lots of other officers who'd be better at it, I'm sure," Jim spat.

"Of course! But at least you'll actually be able to complete the paperwork." His fake smile faded into a deep scowl when Jim didn't respond. "Believe me, you were not my first choice. But here we are. So...?" He gave the papers in his hand a condescending shake and looked at Jim expectantly.

In an ideal world, Jim would like nothing more than to slap the pages out of the commissioner's hands and tell him to go fuck himself; to go find another pawn to do his bidding.

But Jim wouldn't. If he could do even one thing as a captain to help Gotham that he couldn't do as a detective, if he saved even one more person this way, then it would be worth it any indignity that Eaton could dish out.

Jim reached out and grabbed the paperwork from Eaton's hands.

"Wonderful," Eaton grinned, walking back behind his desk and sitting down.

Gritting his teeth, he turned to leave, but stopped before he reached the door.

He turned to look at the commissioner, who sitting peacefully again in his office, happy that he had gotten his way. For a moment, the image of the new firearms that Eaton had brought into Gotham - a city already drowning in bullets - was all that Jim could see.

"I ran into your new task force downstairs," he exclaimed, meeting Eaton’s eyes.

"Oh really? What did you think?" He flashed his poisonous smile again.

"I think that Falcone must be really upset with you for losing Tolbert and the ca- the former captain. It seems pretty desperate; trying to get back into his good books again by taking down the Bat," Jim said pleasantly.

Eaton's smile disappeared in an instant, and his hand clenched where it was sitting on the desk. "Just get to work Gordon," he grumbled, looking back at his computer.

Jim smiled slightly, and closed the door softly behind him.

The following months saw the last of Gotham's spring fade into a hot, humid summer, punctuated with intense bouts of thunder and rain storms.

As Commissioner Eaton had promised, nothing changed at the GCPD.

The mob fighting had fizzled out gradually, in fits and starts, as casualties on all sides became too high for anyone to continue their warpath. The only thing left behind from the months of fighting was a pile of bodies, and further strained relationships between the mobs.

Gotham's summer heat and storms had not deterred Batman, who still seemed to stop crimes nearly every night. Predictably the task force had had no success in hunting him; the closest they had come to finding something new was when they discovered a dulled bat shuriken, which they had officially called batarangs. The dulled ones seemed to be used in combat, while the razor sharp ones were always found far away from the fighting.

Jim hadn't been able to get his hands on any of the dulled ones; the only batarang - which he thought was a stupid name - that he had was the original one from the would-be arsonist case. It was kept hidden in the bottom of the drawer in his desk that also housed his secret mob files in his desk.

Despite himself, Jim found himself begrudgingly grateful that Batman was sticking with Gotham for the summer. After all, Gotham in the summer was hardly a nice place to be, the longer days and warmer temperatures caused an increase in general crime every year. The humidity brought out smog that was thick and heavy in everyone's lungs, and the stench of the hot litter mixed with seawater was known to make entire blocks on the east side reek during hot spells. And then the dampness, the humidity and fog, the endless drizzly days and torrential downpours that soaked the city.

Jim loved Gotham in the summer.

He loved it throughout the entire year of course, but the summer meant going to Robinson Park with Barbara, now that she was done school for the summer, and getting ice cream from the little shop on the corner that had been there since Jim was a kid. He could go to her gymnastic classes more often with the summer schedule. When the instructors told her that though she had executed the flip perfectly, but that she should work on being more graceful, she found his gaze in the viewing area and rolled her eyes before throwing herself back in, and he was so proud.

And if all the extra shifts and extra crime made things more difficult in the summer, having Batman helping out this summer was certainly making things easier.

When the call came in for a dead body found in Old Gotham, Jim chose Bullock to come with him. Sarah was technically available, and absolutely would have come if he needed her to, but she had never been as comfortable with dead bodies.

Besides, the body was found right outside one of Falcone's main properties, so  Bullock's familiarity with mob politics might be needed, if the crime turned out to be mob related.

"Where's the body again?" Bullock said, starting the car with vigour. Jim was letting him drive for once.

"Two blocks north of Crime Alley. Body was found near that new bus stop they put in."

"Aye aye," Bullock responded with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows. It had taken nearly two months for Bullock to stop responding to everything Jim said with "yes sir Mr Captain", but apparently he wasn't quite finished with the pirate jokes.

Yawning, Jim took off his glasses and ran his hand down his face. There wasn't much time left in his shift, and it had been a busy night. Just a few hours earlier Batman had beat him to the house of a suspected kidnapper by just a few minutes. Jim had been in his car on his way to arrest the man when the call had come in that Batman had already been there, and the suspect was apprehended and the victim was safe.

Jim was mostly just glad to have that messy case done with, and was only slightly bitter that Batman had beat him by mere minutes.

The drive seemed to take a long time, or maybe Jim was just too accustomed to racing around at breakneck speeds.

There wasn't much need to rush when the body was already dead and there were no witnesses.

When they finally did get to the crime scene, Jim took his time, pausing to wrap his trench-coat more firmly around him. A cold front was starting to blow in, bringing with it a promise of a storm that would break the heat wave they had been in. The wind ruffled his hair as he followed a few steps behind Bullock towards where the body was.

He must have been a little more tired than he realized, because it took him a second to realize that the dead body wasn't lying anywhere on the ground. He peered around Bullock's large frame, looking for it.

Jim froze, exhaustion replaced by alarm in an instant. Dread and fear formed a hard pit in his stomach; radiating cold throughout his whole body, all the way to his fingertips.

They hadn't described the body on the call, and Jim had assumed that it would be like most dead bodies in Gotham; lying on the ground from a gun-shot wound.

It wasn't. The body was sitting upright on the bus stop; umbrella propped up next to it.

And Jim already knew that the man had died of a slit throat.

"What?" Bullock asked, sensing that Jim had stopped moving, turning to look at him. "Gordon?"

"This is Zsasz's work,” he said dully, walking up and standing squarely in front of the body of the dead man. The hat had been pulled low on the corpse's face, hiding its neck from view.

Bullock froze too, whirling to stare at the body.

"Could be a copycat killer," he pointed out optimistically.

"No, we kept all the details of the murders out of the press, specifically to prevent imitators. This -" Jim gestured to the whole scene in front of them; the recreation of the first murder scene from years ago- "was only ever in police records."

“Yeah, but those police records aren't exactly private anymore." Bullock chuckled darkly under his breath. "Hey, do you think that maybe Batman-"

"Oh, what the hell is wrong with you?" Jim snapped at him.

"Alright, alright, sorry," Bullock said, not really sounding sorry at all. He took a closer look at the body, lifting the dead man's hat off his head, and leaning closer, before suddenly recoiling slightly. Humour drained from his face like water into a storm drain. "Oh fuck."

"What?" Jim leaned closer, the ball of dread growing larger. What could possibly make Zsasz's return worse?

"This is Dan Gotti," Bullock stepped back, revealing the middle-aged, balding, dead man. "He was in charge of controlling Falcone's labour unions. He's tight with Falcone, has been since forever."

Jim ran his hand down his moustache, forcing himself to think around the fear knotting in his stomach. "Why would Falcone have one of his own men killed? Unless Gotti betrayed him?"

"Not Gotti," Bullock shook his head firmly, "He and Falcone were real close. Falcone even had him under his own personal protection." Bullock paused. "I guess not anymore."

They both stared at the body; the sightless pale eyes and the gash along the neck. Bullock swore vigorously under his breath, walking away from the body, pulling his flask out of a pocket, and taking a swig. Jim took a deep breath and knelt down closer to study the corpse.

It looked similar to all of Zsasz's victims; slit neck, propped up in a terrible parody of life. But looking closer, there were differences with this one.

Jim furrowed his eyebrows. This body's lip was split, and there was a purpling bruise on the right cheek.

In theory, Jim supposed that the man could have just gotten into a fight before he was killed, but his instincts told him something else. He rolled up the man's cuff, on a whim.

There was a ring of bruising around the wrist; like the man had been tied up too tightly before he had died.

And the hands themselves, Jim now noticed, had several broken fingers, with three fingernails missing.

"Harvey, come look at this."

Bullock lumbered back over. They were both quiet while he looked over the body the same way that Jim had.

"So, Zsasz had some fun before he killed him, I guess," Bullock said, standing up and taking another sip from his flask.

"But none of the other victims ever showed any signs of physical torture before. It was always just the slash to the neck. Why is this one different?" Jim asked, narrowing his eyes at the body.

"Maybe it really is a copycat killer," Bullock said, but he sounded more bitter than optimistic.

"No, this is definitely Zsasz's work. Something else has changed." Jim pursed his lips together tightly, trying to rearrange the facts in his head into a something that made sense. "He killed one of Falcone's own men. Tortured him and left his body outside Falcone's main territory but why-" he broke off, a terrible thought taking hold of his brain - "You're sure that he couldn't possibly be a traitor?" Everything would be so much easier if he was.

"No, he was as loyal as they come."

"Goddammit," Jim swore under his breath.

Only one explanation was left then, and it was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Jim heaved himself to his feet. "Zsasz isn't working with Falcone. Someone else must have broken him out in the first place, and now that person is using him against Falcone." Jim looked at Bullock desperately, hoping that he might have hidden information about who could have pulled off using Falcone's former hitman to murder his right-hand man, and leave the body in his front yard.

"Well, it's not Fish or Maroni. There's no way they're patient enough to wait this long before using Zsasz." Bullock sounded so much older, without his typical humour colouring his words. "I didn’t think..." He trailed off, muttering under his breath.

"What?" The dread that had been slowly disappearing as Jim managed put together the story returned with full force, cold and heavy in his chest.

"There were... rumours... months ago, of a new guy trying to start up his own gang. Apparently he was the one who took out one of Fish's men a while back. She was furious, but never found him. They barely recognized the body after everything the Penguin did to him. I guess torture is his thing."

Jim raised his eyebrow. "He's called 'The Penguin'? Seriously?"

Bullock snorted, a harsh, abrupt sound, but didn't say anything more.

"You never mentioned him before," Jim said mildly.

"Didn't really think he was the real deal. Definitely didn't think he had the balls to taunt Falcone."

The rumbling of a stuttering engine made them both look up, as a crime scene cleanup van rolled up. Jim nodded at them as they got out of the car, signalling that they were done with the body.

He spared one last look at the dead man, before walking to stand a little ways away, Bullock right beside him. He leaned against the rough stone wall of a nearby building, momentarily sheltered from the cool wind that was getting harder and harder.

He pulled out his pipe, loaded and lit it quickly, the actions automatic from years of practise.

"Seriously?" Bullock said, staring pointedly at the pipe.

"What?"

"You were smoking when the call came in!"

He exhaled smoke and glared at him witheringly over his glasses. "I'm not accepting any judgement from a guy who carries a flask in his pocket," he said, holding the pipe between his teeth as he spoke.

"You can't prove that it's not a healthy smoothie," Bullock said indignantly, but he couldn't quite keep a smirk off his face.

Jim snorted loudly.

They stood by the wall for several minutes, Jim smoking and Bullock drinking side by side. It could have been a nice night, except for the gruesome murder, and the knowledge that there was yet another gangster to worry about.

And this one, in a city known for being gruesome, was considered ruthless by Fish of all people.

In the quiet of the night, Jim started to chuckle lowly under his breath.

"You wanna share the joke Cap’n?" Bullock looked at him sideways.

"It's just, it's just that," Jim forced back a near-hysterical chortle, "we've got Fish, Batman, and now a Penguin." He turns to look at Bullock. "We're in a fucking zoo!"

Bullock burst into barking laughter. "What'll the next exhibit be?"

"Well," Jim said between chuckles, "Maroni always kinda reminded me of a peacock. Always trying to show off."

"Not to mention his fucking strut!" They both broke into renewed laughter, ignoring the strange looks the clean-up crew was shooting them.

"Do they even have peacocks in Italy?" Jim snickered.

"I don't fucking know," Bullock said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Wait - wait. What does that make Falcone?"

They both fell into silence, thinking. A gust of wind blew some litter down the street, which disappeared into the shadows.

"He's a snake," Jim finally said, taking one last draw of his pipe. Bullock huffed quietly.

Cunning and deadly, choking the life out of Gotham to feed himself; the metaphor worked well for Gotham's longest reigning gangster.

Jim's exhaled smoke floated away, as the weight of Zsasz's return and the Penguin's entry weighing on them again, stealing the good-natured laughter from before.

"It's a helluva zoo," Bullock muttered under his breath.

Jim furrowed his eyebrows, staring into the dark shadows of the street corner.

"Batman doesn't know about Zsasz," he said suddenly, giving a voice to the unease in his chest.

"What are you talking about? Batman's been in the police records for months. He can definitely find out about Zsasz."

"No, I mean -" Jim broke off, trying to put his distressed thoughts to words -"I mean that he doesn't know about how Zsasz worked for Falcone. I left that out of the official reports, after Renee had to leave."

"So?" Bullock sounded exasperated now.

"So Batman won't see that this murder was a threat against Falcone. It'll just look like Zsasz the murderer is back, not that Zsasz the fucking mob hitman is back."

"Jim," Bullock said, eyebrows climbing increasingly higher on his face, "are you worried for the Batman?"

"No," Jim said quickly, but his gut twisted when he realized that he wasn't sure whether he was lying or not, "No, I'm just pointing out that Batman doesn't have all the information this time. He can't exactly fly in and solve the case like normal without the info."

Bullock continued to look at Jim like his hair had turned bright blue. "Well, what are you going to do about it? And since when have you cared about what Batman is doing in the first place?"

"I was just pointing it out," Jim repeated, sounding meek even to his own ears.

Bullock stared at him, but thankfully let it drop, and they fell into silence again, watching the crime scene cleaners move to gather up the dead body.

"We might as well head back. If Penguin was confident enough to taunt Falcone with the body of his right-hand man, he's not going to leave clues around," Jim said dejectedly.

"Want me to drop you off right at your apartment?"

"You are not driving after chugging your flask," Jim said, raising his eyebrow, judging. "And I have something I need to do in my office anyway," he added on, an idea blooming in his mind, despite the pang of the anxiety in his stomach.

Jim's office was very similar to most other offices in the GCPD building. It wasn't used for impromptu meetings with Sarah and Bullock as often as their offices were, because Jim's was tucked away far from the hustle of high traffic hallways. There were only two things in Jim's office that made it unique. One was the window, with a view of eastern Gotham.

The other was the stack of files, hidden under more mundane paperwork, that detailed all the information that Jim been gathering about the mob over the years.

The official police report may not mention that Zsasz had anything to do with Falcone, but Jim had kept a record nevertheless. The file in his desk had held all the details of the case, including the records and proof of how Falcone had used Zsasz as a hitman to intimidate and attack the other mobs.

That particular report was no longer sitting hidden inside his desk.

Jim splashed cold water on his face, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. It was nearly dawn, not that anyone could tell with the pouring rain outside. It had been hours since he had gotten home, and he hadn't been able to stop himself from fixating on the stupid pile of paper.

He still can barely believe that he dared take it out in the first place.

But he had, had taken Zsasz's truthful report and had haphazardly cleared a spot of it in the middle of his cluttered desk and-

He sighed, staring at his reflection - blurry without his glasses - in the mirror. "You can't even admit it to yourself," he muttered at his reflection, which thankfully didn't reply.

When he had returned to the GCPD building, he had gone to his office and put Zsasz's accurate report on the middle of his desk. He put new batteries in his biggest flashlight, and he had propped it up against some files so that it shone out the window. He had left the window closed, but unlocked. Most people who could see it from the street would just assume that he had left his lights on.

Jim's plan really counted on Batman's ability to recognize the difference between the normal lighting and a single flashlight.

He sighed again, breaking eye contact with himself as he rubbed tiredly at his moustache.

At the office, he had been so full of anger and fear at Zsasz's reappearance in Gotham, so full of desperation to do something more than just send a mere memo to the GCPD and tell them that a serial killer was back. And so he had left out a clue for a vigilante.

The guilty writhing in his stomach forced him to bend, leaning against the sink, with his head in his hands.

He couldn't even explain to himself why he had done it. Whether leaving the information was a cry for help, showing Batman how dangerous Zsasz really was, to try to get him to take him down - or whether he was just trying to warn the vigilante, so that Jim wouldn't have to respond to a call that ended with the Batman with his neck slit.

Even now, despite the horror and shame he felt at what he had done, the image of the shapeless form of Batman's dead body on the ground made his blood turn cold.

But did it even matter why he had left the information? He had done the one thing he said he would never do.

He had colluded with a criminal.

He had willingly shared information - information that was so outrageous that it had literally driven Renee out of Gotham - with a vigilante that he knew almost nothing about. His whole career had been spent lamenting and complaining about his fellow officers' dealings with the mobs, only to turn around and do the same thing.

But it wasn't the implied plea for help, or the nonsensical worry for Batman that was making Jim feel like scum, and it wasn't even the fact that he had shared information with a criminal.

It was that he didn't feel remorseful at all for leaving Zsasz's information. The fact that he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions was by far what was making him feel like his gut was digesting itself.

He had made a solemn promise to himself, when he first got his badge, that he would never work with criminals; that he would be different than the corrupt police that he had grown up with and worked with. He should be mourning his broken promise, cursing himself for doing the unthinkable.

He was not.

Because times had changed; there was a vigilante flying around Gotham nightly, and for Jim to continue to deny that Batman was helping Gotham far more than he was hurting it would be negligence.

He met the gaze of his own reflection again. Was it was better to break his promise, and give information to Batman; or to uphold it, and let Gotham suffer for his stubbornness?

His mouth twitched slightly upwards. He already had his answer, much as it pained him; had had it since he had shone his flashlight out the window. It was a decision made of months of watching Batman save people, months of fewer muggings, of drug dealers off the streets, of murderers and rapists and child abusers put behind bars.

If his ultimate purpose for being a police officer was to truly help Gotham, then he had to give Batman - someone who had proven again and again his commitment to putting away its criminals without killing them - every opportunity to help, to do more than Jim could.

And if Jim's information helped Batman at all in bringing down Zsasz, it was absolutely worth all the guilt and pain that the decision was causing him.

Helping Gotham always came first.

Besides, he thought, finally settling back into his bed, even if Batman did see his meagre signal for what it was, if he would have to be able to reach it.

And Jim still wasn't convinced that Batman could fly.

[fablewoven]

Kassidy Verse Drabble

“Do you ever wonder if it’s you?”

Of course she wondered if it was her, but when the question was asked by your ex-boyfriend, it was harder to take seriously. Especially when the conversation hadn’t originally involved him. Some days, being friends with her ex was hard...other days it was easy. The friend group had had to adjust to the buildup and the fallout, and so had the two of them, but today was a little harder. It had been easier for Rhys than it had been for Kassidy to warm back up to being friends, but out of the two of them she had been more emotionally invested in their relationship so this question stung a bit.

“I’m going to regret asking but: why do you think it’s me?” Kassidy asked, too curious about his answer to keep her mouth shut.

Giving a little shrug, he looked at her. “Because you have a really bad habit of going after emotionally unavailable men and getting too attached too fast.”

The problem with that answer, was that Kassidy couldn’t even argue that he was wrong. Twice, she’d been in relationships that weren’t defined, and the one that actually had been labeled, had been with Rhys, who was never emotionally available, even during sex. She felt a pang in her chest as she thought about it, still feeling like it was a sore subject. It hurt to admit that the only guy she’d ever slept with wasn’t even that into her, and the guy she actually wanted to sleep with now, wasn’t even sure what it was he wanted.

When she was 16, Aaron, her first boyfriend, hadn’t even really been her boyfriend. He just liked hanging out with her, and holding her hand and leaning his head on her at lunch. Labels weren’t his thing, he just wanted the comfort, but when kissing entered the equation and he still didn’t want to pull the trigger on the relationship, Kassidy walked. A year later, she and her friend Caleb had a similar relationship. By that point she had been ready to finally get to make out and grope a bit like all her friends were doing, but it had for some reason made her feel so guilty, not even being able to call him her boyfriend. He was always busy too, so it was always on his time table, and eventually the guilt won and Kassidy couldn’t do it anymore.

Through all of it, Rhys had been that acquaintance of their good friend, Miles, who introduced them in the first place. At that point, Kassidy was pretty over guys and wanted to focus on her classes and her extra curriculars, and Rhys had a new girl every few months. She convinced herself that he wasn’t her type, but then college happened and she published her first book and something changed. He was nicer to her, and she was too naive to realize it was just to get sex, and he did what the others didn’t: he asked for a label.

“What was your excuse, anyway? Aaron and Caleb were my own fault--I’ve come to terms with that already--but you asked me, remember? Yeah, I moved way too fast with Teddy, and I shouldn’t have jumped the gun like that, but there’s a tiny childish part of me that wants to blame you. You starved me of affectionate intimacy and made me feel like shit, and he gave me all of it before anything even started with whatever we almost were.” Kassidy admitted to him.

Rhys nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I did want to define it. I knew you because we were friends, and I knew that any form of sexual intimacy would be unattainable unless I made a gesture of commitment. High level of douchebaggery, I know, but it’s not like I hated you, Kass. I still care, I just didn’t want the responsibility of catching stronger feelings than mild affection. I liked our banter, and I liked that you were a little jealous of my ex that month before I asked. Men like feeling wanted too, you know? Also, you knew me too, before you agreed to being my girlfriend. You knew I kept people at arm’s length and you still ran headfirst into it thinking I’d change for you, even though we both knew you hated to be that girl. You still became her.”

“Yeah, because the hopeless romantic in me thought that being friends meant you respected me,” Kassidy responded, hearing the resentment in her voice, but he was right: she had become that girl that she hated, that thought she was the exception to his rules. She’d set herself up for this disappointment, and it hurt.

“I did respect you. We only ever had sex on your time table, and the biggest issue you ever had was me not sticking around to cuddle. I barely liked cuddling during movie nights with our friends, but there had to be a compromise,” Rhys reminded her, which only made Kassidy feel that pang return, a lump in her throat forming as well.

Sighing, Kassidy shrugged her shoulders. “Forgive me for thinking at first that something nice would come from losing my virginity to a guy I trusted. You’ve really set the bar, Rhys.”

She could still vividly remember how that night had almost ended things before they had really begun. How he’d acted like he was fine with her nervousness and faked being sweet, because then he’d reacted to her quite negatively when they had to stop when it hurt. The mood got killed, but he toughed it out for her and she thought it would all be fine, until he got off and she didn’t, and he left ten minutes after, leaving her with a mess to clean up, and crying her eyes out for a few hours because she felt vulnerable and inadequate. They barely texted, didn’t see each other for a week after, and then he pretended like the whole mishap hadn’t happened, making her feel the need to bury it deep down and just act like she was perfectly fine until they got a rhythm down and things started being mostly pleasant for her.

A feeling that always got ruined when he would never stay after, and she realized he’d already gotten the ‘prize’ of her virginity and it was just sex for him and nothing more.

“Some guy will come along and make it all better for you, but until then, you’ve gotta stop blaming the rest of us. You’re the one picking these guys to let in that can’t commit 100% to you. You even know it going in, and you still think some miraculous thing is going to change the odds, and it doesn’t. I’m not saying I wasn’t an ass,” Rhys said quickly, Kassidy glaring at him. “I was, okay? I was an ass. I’m only saying that you figure out what you want and who you want it with, and you put blinders on. You act impulsively, and then have a breakdown about it later. You forget: I know you. I know how much time you spent upset after I left sometimes. Yeah, I could have tried to make you feel better, but I figured you were a big enough girl to handle your own feelings. I apologized for the tear I gave you that first time, and I only ever initiated things when you were in the mood for it and sending me the signals. Besides, it wasn’t bad sex--you were just the one who was more emotionally attached to what it meant rather than what it was. I never stayed because I knew it wasn't going to last and I didn't want you to get that deep in it.”

Justifying his actions of being emotionally closed off about something she viewed as so intimate, made her want to punch him in the face, but it also made her sad. Mostly because, he wasn’t wrong...not really. She was an emotional person, who used her writing as an outlet and did go after what she wanted, the consequences be damned, and she was doing it again. Dwelling on something that was beyond her control, pining for something that hadn’t even really become a thing. She’d just latched on and told herself it was something great, and it was really just an ‘almost’ that might never take full hold. Still, it bothered her that he was acting like he'd been cold for her benefit, when it was really to help him justify his crappy behavior.

“It is complete bullshit that you're sitting here right now telling me you were a douchebag so I wouldn't catch feelings. I already had the fucking feelings, Rhys, you just didn't. You needed a reason to not feel guilty that you were using me in between sex buddies, but… at least you’re saying I wasn’t bad in bed,” she decided to say, realizing she really didn’t want to discuss Teddy with him, nor really get into this what happened between them had happened, and she had tried her best to ignore it so they could all be friends again. Not only that, but where Teddy was concerned, it was not her place to explain a thing and she didn't want his opinion on the subject because it didn't matter. “I’ve been lowkey worried I was bad in bed and that’s why you always got dressed so fast.”

Rhys shook his head. “I just don’t like cuddling after, it has nothing to do with your performance. If anything, I just didn't want to risk a chance of feeling any guilt. You’re not the only woman I’ve run out on after the deed was done.”

“I don’t know why that makes me feel better, but it does,” Kassidy admitted, taking a breath and then nodding. “I guess it is me.”

“You’re never gonna find the right guy if you keep the blinders up,” he explained, giving her a little smile. “Just...stop letting guys walk all over you, and stop expecting to get 100% when you know they can only give you less than that. That’s how you end up here, pining over someone that showed interest, but isn’t ready or sure or whatever his problem is. Interest only means so much, and you can’t bank intimacy on it. Now...I wanna do some PVP instead of dwell on feelings. Are you up for it?”

“I’d rather do the Halo Campaign again, but yeah, I’ll honestly do anything else to not have to talk about this with you anymore.”