#every week i have to resist the urge to text my coworkers like ''okay how did it go today''

[boyfeminism]

this job is so stressful to me like. im doing okay im doing better than i started but ive basically been put into a pseudo management position with very little real responsibility other than "fix it" and "advocate for it" and even less power to make it happen but like. i Hate management and i have a hard time sticking up for myself and keeping a cool head when doing so, which means when someone who i Know doesnt do his job is giving me bullshit numbers its hard to know where to give ground and where to be firm. and this kitchen is a disaster but like other baking jobs have Such a high standard that like. would i even manage a job where the kitchen Wasn't a total sinking ship? ive got less than a year of baking experience, mostly in bread, and everyone wants pastry. a chef from corporate asked me if id been to culinary school and it was both flattering and made me feel like kind of a fraud. a sous chef (who i really liked but her last day is tomorrow) asked the same and when i said no elaborated that i carry myself and have the attitude of someone who did (in a good way) which was Also flattering but like. she sent me a pastry position she found online that wanted someone who knew how to do laminated pastry and it just. i feel so small!!! this is something i like a lot and the new head chef of the baking department says he can tell i have talent and im eager to learn and he knows i can do this and that im doing a good job so far but its genuinely so stressful i think about work constantly ive never worked a job where ive had this much expectation put on me.

plus its so insulting when they tell me my product "doesnt look good" bc theyre 1) premade frozen bullshit and 2) packaged poorly bc we have no other options. fuck off dude you come and make these shitty turnovers, asshole. i know how to tell when a cookie is done. fuck off. like i am the First to tell you when something ive made is not up to my standard, not in a self depricating way but in a constant effort to do better. i Know when the cookies are too dark. I know when the turnovers didnt get egg washed. i know when the batter was overmixed. i know when something is Off but i dont know the cause and know when to ask someone who should know more than me. i dont need you to tell me when something is off, Especially when like. it isnt lmao

[daisynik7]

OMG I love your party idea it's so cool!! how about "slow down baby" by Christina Aguilar for Eren Yeager 💓💓 one of my favs

Slow Down Baby

Slow down baby and don't act crazy, don't you know you can look all you want but you just can't touch

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: modern-day au, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implications of cheating, cheating, sex toy use (vibrator), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, princess)

Summary: Your boyfriend Jean is working late again, and you can’t help but be suspicious that there’s something nefarious happening behind your back. Pent up from not seeing him this whole week, you take this alone time to treat yourself to some much-needed self-care. 

Eren Jaeger knows that his friend is cheating on you, and he hates it. You don’t deserve it, not one bit. When Jean asks him to do a favor to try to cover up his infidelity, Eren seriously considers telling you the truth, ultimately deciding against it because of “bro code”. But what happens when he walks in on you taking all your sexual frustrations out on a little toy? Can he really keep his mouth shut?

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request @shepnicolo! Love me some Xtina, great song for the y2k karaoke party! This was a fun one for me, so I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading everyone! MDNI banner designed by @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest.

“Hey babe. Sorry, but I’m going to be at work late again tonight.” It’s already past nine in the evening when Jean calls you, informing you of this last-minute change of plans.

“Again?” He’s had overtime every day since last week. He’s also been leaving early in the mornings so by the time you wake up, he’s gone. It feels like you’ve barely seen him at all. “How about dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah. I already ate.” There’s shuffling in the background. And maybe it’s just your paranoia, but you swear you hear a woman giggling quietly beside him.

You swallow hard, asking, “Is someone with you?”

“Huh?” His tone shifts, as if you’re asking the most ridiculous question. “What do you mean?”

Immediately regretting it, you rephrase, not wanting to sound accusatory. “I was just wondering if anyone else is working overtime with you. That’s all. Didn’t want you to be lonely there.” The last statement is a lie; you sincerely hope he’s alone and not doing what you’re suspicious of.

He clears his throat nervously. “Oh. Well, yeah, there are a few people here with me, so you have nothing to worry about.” 

Too late for that, you think, listening carefully for any more clues. When you can’t hear anything else, you sigh into the phone. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you later then.” You wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t. Quickly, you add, “I love you – ” 

He hangs up before you can get it out completely. 

Jean had been pulling away from you for a while now. It didn’t just start with the overtime. It began over a month ago, when you noticed how glued to the phone he was while the two of you watched TV together. When you asked who he was texting, he answered, “It’s my new coworker. She’s asking some questions about work.” At the time, it didn’t raise any alarms in your head, so you dropped it. Every day, he was immersed to the screen, sometimes excusing himself to take a call outside on your balcony. You resisted every urge, every temptation to eavesdrop on his conversations, look through his text messages, interrogate him further. 

You continue to give him the benefit of the doubt. There’s no way Jean would ever cheat on you. While you haven’t been together for that long, you like to think that you know him well enough to be sure he’s a faithful boyfriend. You don’t even have proof of his infidelity. It would be unfair to accuse him of such atrocities over some silly speculation, right?

Since he’s been in the office late this entire week, the two of you haven’t had sex in what seems like forever. Pent up and frustrated, you take this time to care for yourself, since Jean’s not around to do it. It starts with a serving of your favorite dessert, then a warm bath, soothing the tense muscles in your body. You surround yourself in a comfy robe, brushing your teeth with the full intention of falling asleep as soon as you do the one thing you need to make yourself feel better tonight. 

With all the lights off, except for the dim glow of the lampshade on the nightstand, you snuggle into your bed, untying the robe so it’s splayed beneath you. Inside the drawer, you retrieve your favorite vibrator and a small bottle of lube, pouring a tiny bead on the tip. Spreading your legs wide, you smear it on yourself. Using your free hand, you navigate to your favorite dirty audio, playing it out loud. 

~~~

Eren hates this. Absolutely hates it. 

He’s driving towards your apartment with a set of keys in his pocket and a bouquet of roses sitting in the passenger seat. All because your friend is a piece of shit. 

Eren’s known for a while now that Jean is cheating on you. It started with a not-so-subtle comment in the group chat. My new coworker is fucking hot. That alone disgusted him. Connie, of course, laughed it off. Armin didn’t say anything, probably unsure how to respond at such a statement. It only went downhill from there. 

She’s got the best body omg.

 I’m in trouble now.

This is bad guys lol. 

Don’t tell the girls okay? 

Jean has always rubbed Eren the wrong way, ever since they were kids. But at least he respected him. Now, not so much. Not at all, actually. You don’t deserve this, not one bit. No one does, but especially you. And maybe the reason he can’t completely berate Jean is because Eren’s harboring a secret of his own: He’s head-over-heels for you. 

Of course, he’s never acted on it. Bro code, right? Thou shall not hook up with another bro’s girl, or whatever the unofficial rule is. But what if said bro is acting like a total asshole? And what if this bro would treat you the way you deserve and more? Then what?

It’s because of this stupid code that he finds himself in the most ridiculous, aggravating situation. Earlier in the night, Jean texted the group chat. SOS SOS SOS. Armin and Connie were both busy, so didn’t respond, leaving Eren to answer the cry for help.

Jean explains it quickly through the phone, voice all panicky and guilty. “Dude, I need you to do me the hugest favor right now. I would you owe big time if you could help me out.” Basically, he needs Eren to buy a big bouquet of roses and deliver them to your apartment, where you can see them first thing in the morning. 

“Why?” he asks, irritated by this request.

“I think she’s suspicious. So I need to do something to throw her off the scent,” he explains. Eren can already see the cocky, shit-eating grin on his face. Why is he friends with this douchebag? And why did he agree to do this? He’s complicit in this mess now, not only for keeping his friend’s infidelity a secret, but for helping him continue it. He wants so badly to tell you the truth so you can escape this relationship. At the same time, he’s supposed to have his friend’s back no matter what, even if he is being a massive prick. 

So, he decides to help his buddy out, no matter how much it’s killing him. He meets Jean at an unknown address, most likely his side chick’s place. “Dude, seriously. I owe you one,” he says, patting him on the shoulder.

Eren nods silently, not wanting to speak in case he lets his true feelings slip. Jean hands him the spare keys to your apartment. “Just sneak in and set the flowers on the kitchen counter. She won’t suspect a thing.” It takes all of Eren’s willpower not to punch him in the face, so he quickly turns around to get into his car and drive off. 

It’s almost midnight by the time he arrives to your apartment. Surely, you’re asleep by now, still completely unaware that your bastard boyfriend is cheating on you. Still, he shouldn’t meddle in your relationship, even though he wants what’s best for you, which is not Jean.

He unlocks the door quietly, tip-toeing into the kitchen to set the flowers down, as instructed. He notices your bedroom door is ajar, a faint streak of light coming from the inside, and the undeniable sounds of a man growling expletives like, Come for me, slut. Yeah, give it all to me.

His eyes widen, surprised that you’re still awake, even more so that you’re listening to something like this. Curiosity gets the best of him; he stealthily makes his way beside your door, peering through the tiny opening to get a glimpse of you. 

You’re laid out on the bed, bare and exposed, gripping a vibrator to your pussy. The sight alone is enough to put him into a frenzy. Hearing your soft whimpers from your mouth along with the electric buzz from the toy fluttering on your clit sends him into a trance that he can’t snap out of. Before he can think logically, he’s pushing against the door, making his presence known. 

~~~

“Eren!” You sit up in bed, flinging the toy off to the side, covering yourself with your robe. “What are you doing here?”

He stands before you, a crazed look in his eyes, an obvious bulge protruding from his pants. He stutters, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, glaring at him. 

His mouth is agape, unable to get the words out. You’re losing patience, watching him struggle to explain why he’s here, inside your home, watching you masturbate. You grab your phone, making sure to exit out of whatever filthy audio that’s still playing, fingers ready to dial your boyfriend’s number when he blurts out, “Jean is cheating on you.”

You freeze on the spot, heart sinking from having your worst fear confirmed. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, staring down at his feet. “I’m so sorry.”

There are no tears in your eyes, surprisingly. Instead, your throat is heavy with emotion as you repeat for a third time, “So, what are you doing here?”

Still avoiding your gaze, he answers, “Jean thought you were catching on to him, so he asked me to bring you flowers to throw you off.” 

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you ask, “How long have you known about it?”

“A few weeks.” He looks up at you, saying your name this time. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

After a deep breath, you sigh, relaxing against the headboard. “I’m sorry you’re involved in it.” You smile at him. “And I’m sorry you had to see me…you know.” Embarrassment catches up to you, heat rushing into your cheeks, aware that you’ve just been caught touching yourself with your vibrator, which is still in plain view beside you. 

He steps forward, inching closer towards the end of the bed. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. Jean is a fucking asshole. You don’t deserve this.”

“What do I deserve, Eren?” You peer at him, tears welling in your eyes now, desperate for any ounce of comfort he can give to you in this moment. 

He sits near you on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. “You deserve to be loved by someone who’s always going to treat you right. Someone who’s going to love you from head to toe.” 

“Someone like you?”

A gentle smile forms on his face. “Yeah. Someone like me.”

No matter how badly you want to close the distance between you, want to feel the love he says he can give to you, guilt holds you back. Sensing your hesitation, he scooches nearer. “Let me help you. Tell me what you want.”

Eren has always been sweet to you. Too sweet, in fact. You’ve always gotten the sense that he cares more for you than he lets on. And maybe it’s because you’re hurt right now, fragile, heartbroken, even a little scornful towards Jean. Whatever it is, it makes you realize you’ve been too busy with the wrong man to notice the right one has been here all along. However, two wrongs don’t make a right. Even with the confirmation of Jean’s adulterous behavior, you’re still his girlfriend until you officially end it, which will be soon. 

In the meantime, you manage to come up with something you can do to take advantage of this moment. 

You let go of your robe, letting it fall to your sides, displaying your nude body to him, arousal wet between your legs from earlier. He watches you carefully, cock straining against his sweatpants, breathing heavily.

“I’m not a cheater like Jean,” you mutter, spreading yourself wider, showing off your glistening cunt.

“I know you’re not,” he whispers, scooting forward, hand drifting to his lap.

Reaching for your vibrator, maintaining your gaze on him, you say, “I’m a good girl.” 

He swallows hard, palming his erection through the fabric. “Fuck. You’re a good girl. Such a good girl.”

“You can look, but you can’t touch. Understand?” Your finger hovers over the button, tip pressed to your throbbing clit.  

He nods erratically, licking his lips. “Yes.”

“Good,” you smirk, turning the toy on, ready to give him a show. “Tell me all the things you want to do to me.”

He shoves his boxers down, cock sprung stiff against his abdomen, the slit shiny with precum, veins bulging on his shaft. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, better than what’s-his-face by a longshot, though you might be biased now, given the circumstances. Eren wraps his fist around it, jerking himself off while he watches you tease the tip on your swollen bud. “I want to fuck you into this mattress,” he moans. “Pound this pussy until we break the bed.”

“Yeah?” you purr, pressing the fluttering tip deeper into your clit. “What else?”

“Want to bounce you on this cock, watch you cream all over me,” he huffs, stroking himself faster. “God, this is hot. So fucking hot.”

Pleasure ripples through your body, toes curled from the sensation, so close to your climax with his soothing voice spitting his nasty fantasies at you. “I wish you could fuck me right now,” you confess, limbs quivering from ecstasy, pussy fluttering around nothing, aching to be filled. 

“Me too, princess. Me too. But you’re a good girl. And good girls don’t cheat.” He readjusts himself onto the bed, kneeling in front of you, stroking his hard dick. “I can give you this cum, though. That’s not cheating, right?”

You blindly agree with him, approaching your climax. “Yeah, give it to me. Give it to me, Eren.”

He swears loudly, shooting his load onto you, spilling over your clit, dripping down your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, marveling at how pretty you look covered in his seed. 

You smile at him, relaxing against your pillows, dipping the tip of your vibrator in his mess. His mouth hangs open, eyes half lidded, watching as you stuff it inside your cunt. 

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, stroking his cock again, eyes fixated on your pussy. 

Do technicalities even matter anymore? All you know is that you want to be loved from head to toe by Eren Jaeger. You set aside the toy, sitting up to close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his. He hesitates before deepening the kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth, sloppy and eager for more.

When you break apart to catch your breaths, he leans his forehead against yours, whispering, “Are you going to be a bad girl now and take this cock?”

Grinning, you nod, pulling him in for another kiss. 

[sunfleurry]

II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.” 

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information. 

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last. 

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building. 

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless. 

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it. 

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart. 

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa. 

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity. 

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place. 

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks. 

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart. 

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake. 

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned. 

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side. 

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!! 

Tag list: @mellamolayla​

[goldentournesol]

Mon Cher

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

Part 2 of Mon Lapin

The one where Spencer and Reader finally go on a date after pining over each other for too long. (Reader owns a French bakery)

Length: 2.6k

A/N: tooth-rotting, cheesy FLUFF! thank you to everyone who requested a part 2, i wasn’t going to write it but y’all--i think this might be my favorite thing that i’ve written so far!

masterlist

Spencer knew that across many cultures, pink lilies represented love, admiration, and compassion. All things he wished to convey to Y/N, so it really wasn’t difficult to pick a bouquet of pink lilies for her. His heart thumped against his ribcage as he neared the bakery where he told her he’d meet her. He hoped he wasn’t too forward with her yesterday, but he was getting antsy. Despite seeing her a couple times a week when he was in town, it was never enough just to chat casually. He wanted to lose himself in conversations with her. With all his ambition for knowledge, he couldn’t think of a subject he wished to memorize more than everything she is. 

He cleared his throat and made sure his tie was as straight as it possibly could be before pushing the glass door of her bakery, the chime of the small bell reaching the corners of the store. His eyes swept across the familiar scenery, but she wasn’t there. He approached the counter nervously.

“Hey, Marissa. Is Y/N here yet?” He asked her coworker and she beamed upon seeing him.

“Hey! She should be here any minute. I kind of forced her to go home to get ready and all, it’s really hard getting her out of the bakery!” She laughed and Spencer nodded, smiling, grateful for the extra minutes he needed to compose himself. 

He found Y/N’s dedication to her job endearing. He glanced down at the bouquet and adjusted the flowers in an attempt to find something to do with his hands instead of tapping nervously against the counter. Why was he so nervous? She wouldn’t have agreed to the date if she wasn’t interested. Well, then again, he didn’t really give her an option. Was that the wrong decision? 

Just before he could spiral into his thoughts any deeper, the bell chimed again, causing him to turn to face the door. The air evaded his lungs as soon as his eyes settled on her, an occurrence Spencer didn’t think happened in real life. He’s read about it, sure, but he never thought he’d ever experience it. She strolled in, a dark emerald dress flowing with her movement. Spencer had to remind himself what the function of the respiratory system was when she approached him. 

“Spencer?” She spoke softly, realizing that he hadn’t said anything. He blinked, snapping out of his daze with a prominent blush. 

“Y-yes. Hi, sorry, um,” he paused, a bashful, sheepish grin overtaking his face, “you look beautiful, Y/N.” She mirrored his smile, cheeks reddening as she glanced at the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Merci, mon lapin. [my bunny] You look just as dashing as ever. I see you remembered the lilies.” She sent him a sly smile. He had forgotten about the bouquet in his hand under her intense gaze. He nodded, his arm extending the flowers to her. She graciously accepted them and immediately buried her nose in the center of the bouquet, emerging with a smile that could make Spencer’s knees buckle if he wasn’t careful.

“They’re beautiful, thank you. Give me one moment.” She scurried off into the kitchen of the bakery and returned with the largest cup she could find. She settled the flowers in their new home before picking one out of the bunch and securing it to one of the bobby pins near her left ear. Spencer was positive he resembled a love-sick puppy as he took in the sight. Marissa was pretending to wipe down a table in the background, but really she was fawning over the two lovebirds. 

“Shall we?” Spencer managed to speak, gesturing towards the door. 

He tried to contain his grin as he stared at her ethereality. She smiled up at him and nodded, taking one last look at Marissa before she left. Her coworker sent her a teasing look and waved goodbye. Spencer offered his arm to Y/N as they stepped into the chilly air. She gladly took it and beamed up at him. He tried not to focus on the way his arm felt tingly with hers around it.

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this, Spencer.” She spoke and he nodded.

“Me too, Y/N. So, I wasn’t sure what you liked so I settled for a reservation at an Italian restaurant. Would that be okay?” He tried to swallow his nerves.

“Yeah, that’s perfect!” It didn’t really matter, she knew she’d go wherever this man asked her to go. 

The nervous energy in the air was lighthearted and it made her feel like she was a teenager going on a date for the first time again. They caught each other up on their lives as they walked. Both of Y/N’s hands ended up around Spencer’s arm and he found himself relishing in her warm touch as well as every little squeeze she gave when she got excited about something she was saying. He wanted to pay attention to the direction they were walking in, but it was too damn hard with the way the lamp lights reflected in her irises. He’d almost walked right past the restaurant.

“Oh, we’re here.” He laughed lightly, leading her to the entrance and they were seated immediately.

Dinner went smoothly. She’d known that he was an interesting man, but he made it so easy for her to get lost in him, what he was saying, his eyes- oh man, those eyes. She knew all about eyes being the windows to the soul, but she didn’t know how one man’s eyes could possibly convey so much emotion. She watched him talk about his work family and his real family, although not in great detail. They were so captivated by each other, the waiters had to make noises with either their throats or mouths to get their attention.

Once they were out of the restaurant, they continued walking down the same street, still deep in conversation about a topic probably wouldn’t interest anyone else. Spencer hadn’t really planned the night out, he didn’t know what exactly she would like, so he decided he’d let the leaves fall where they may. All he did know was when she giggled, his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, they stopped in their tracks and she let out a loud gasp.

“Oh! You know what I just remembered?” Spencer stared at her curiously, “There’s a tiny theater up ahead that plays some really cool foreign films, you probably know about it. I know the owner, she texts me whenever they add a French movie. Tonight they’re playing one of my favorites, Les Parapluies de Cherbourg! [The Umbrellas of Cherbourg] Oh, you would love it! Would you like to go? It’s totally fine if you have something else planned, though.” Spencer grinned at her excited nature and nodded eagerly.

“Are you kidding? I always have to beg my friends to come see foreign films with me, I’d love to go.” Spencer couldn’t believe this was happening. They arrived at the theater soon and she was disheartened to hear that they didn’t have subtitles for the movie.

“It’s okay! I don’t mind if there aren’t any subtitles.” Spencer said once he saw the smile dissipate from her face. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her that he’d already seen the movie before anyway. The gleam in her eye was much too precious when she spoke of the film.

“Are you sure? I can probably whisper-translate to you, uh, i-if you’d like.” She stated somewhat shyly, a blush creeping up to her cheeks.

“I’d like that.” Spencer smiled as he realized that the roles were usually reversed and he’d usually be the one whisper-translating a movie to someone.

And so they sat in the small theater, arms tangled in each other over the arm of the chair between them. She had one hand on his bicep as he leaned the top half of his body closer to her. They were probably sitting closer than they normally would have sat, but she used the excuse of whisper-translating to her advantage. She felt a strand of his caramel hair tickle the tip of her nose as her lips whispered in his ear. Spencer fought to regulate his breathing every time she came near. He was glad he’d seen the movie before because he was sure that if this had been his first time seeing it, he’d have absolutely no clue what was going on. She also fought to resist the urge to press her lips to his clean shaven jaw--and basically everywhere else. 

The movie ended before they knew it and they could finally see each other in the gentle light of the theater. Spencer turned his face to send her a grateful smile just to find her face inches away from his. His eyes involuntarily flickered down to her lips. The same lips that were by his ear a few moments ago. She smiled back softly and they enjoyed the closeness for a short moment before Spencer shyly broke eye contact. They broke apart, both blushing from head to toe. Both far too shy to initiate anything. He cleared his throat before standing from his seat. Y/N followed him out of the theater.

“So, did you like it?” She asked as they stepped out, noticing that the streets were a lot darker and quieter than they had been prior to entering. It must have been late. 

“Yeah, I loved it.” Spencer said, almost breathlessly, but he wasn’t talking about the movie, of course. She grinned with triumph and courageously slipped her hand into his as they walked back in the direction they came from. He took it one step further and laced their fingers together. She swooned over his smile. 

An aggressive gust of wind suddenly washed over the two of them on the sidewalk, which made them instinctively close their eyes to brace themselves against the dust in the air. She only opened her eyes as she felt the lily in her hair slip out of its secure place from in between the prongs of the bobby pin.

“No!” She gasped and Spencer quickly -and ungracefully- leapt to catch it before it flew too far. She laughed as he turned to face her with a pleasantly surprised expression, almost in disbelief that he actually caught it. He approached her again and gently returned the lily to its rightful spot just above her ear. He moved a stray strand from her face and she gazed up at him with a certain type of adoration. His hands moved to cup the plumpness of her cheeks as they relished in each other's tender gazes. She let her hands rest right under his ribs and pulled him impossibly closer.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, his breath washing over her face. He felt the skin under his fingertips warm up.

“Merci, mon cher.” [my dear] She whispered back, a definite level-up from mon lapin. That he did know the meaning of.

Spencer grinned slightly before finally leaning down to close the gap between both their lips. It was gentle and sweet, neither of them rushing it. To many onlookers, they were just a young couple sharing a kiss on the sidewalk in the middle of the night. To them, it was a silent declaration. A statement that conveyed more emotion than any of the thousands of words that existed in all the languages they spoke between them could. Y/N found herself following through after Spencer reluctantly pulled away for air. She stopped herself, blushing profusely at her involuntary movements. He only grinned wider in response before stepping back and grabbing her hand again.

“Let me walk you home.” He told her as they began walking again.

“Actually...the night doesn’t have to end yet, if you don’t want it to, I mean.” She smiled up at him.

“I don’t want it to, what do you have in mind? Everything’s closed down.” Spencer pointed out.

“Um, I might know a place.” She said in a teasing manner with a slight smirk, “The owner and I go way back.” She giggled.

“Oh really now?” Spencer played along, laughing.

“Mhm, we’re practically like this.” She laughed as she crossed one finger over the other on her free hand to represent a bond.

She unlocked the door to her bakery and pulled him in, closing the door again behind him. Before Spencer could even register what was happening, she had grabbed a hold on his tie to gently guide his face back to hers and enveloping his lips with her own. Spencer responded immediately by wrapping both arms around her waist securely. The kiss was significantly more passionate than the first, but just as sweet. She pulled apart first and bit her lip sheepishly.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” She admitted and Spencer stood in a daze. 

She giggled and moved away to turn the lights on, but only some. The soft light illuminated the empty bakery and he realized then just how beautiful the place really was. Or maybe he thought everything would look ten times more beautiful after a kiss like the one he’d just received. The thought had extended to her, of course. Spencer didn’t think it was possible that she could look any more beautiful. But there she was, in all her glory, proving him wrong as each second passes.

“Come with me, I have something to show you.” She hooked her pointer finger around his and dragged him to the kitchen. He was in awe as he took in the sight of all of the kitchen appliances. It wasn’t a large kitchen, but it was oddly spacious and organized. 

She smiled wide at his reaction, “This is quite literally where the magic happens. Ooo! Come look, I made these right before I left, Marissa must have taken them out of the oven before she locked up. They’re for tomorrow.” She pulled him to a tall bakery rack and he spotted his favorite treat, pain au chocolat. She took one off the tray and gave it to him. It was still warm on the bottom. He couldn’t hold his excited grin back as he took a hefty bite out of it. She giggled as she watched him close his eyes dramatically.

“I’m truly at a loss for words, Y/N. They’re so good. How do you get them right every time?” He asked with fascination and she propped herself on the counter of the kitchen, taking one for herself.

“Well, it took time and effort to perfect the recipe, Dr. Reid.” She giggled, biting into it. “I can show you how to make them one day. Maybe our next date?” She looked at him hopefully and he nodded eagerly.

“Yes! You can finally show me how to make pain au chocolat.” He tried to imitate her accent, he really tried. She burst out laughing at his cuteness.

“Pain au cho-co-lat.” She emphasized, separating the syllables.

“That’s what I said! Pain au chocolat!” He laughed, although the pronunciation was still slightly off.

“Alright, close enough.” She giggled again as she pulled him closer, locking her legs at the ankle behind his waist. They’d have plenty of time to perfect his accent later.

“Embrasse-moi, mon cher.” [Kiss me, my dear] She whispered. 

Right then, he thanked himself for having the foresight to brush up on the language enough to do exactly what she asked. 

Half-eaten pains au chocolat were long forgotten.

Mon Lapin (part 1)

[half-bakedboy]

Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz | Rated T | Chapters 1/11 | Posting Every Other Day 

When Maddie showed up at the one-eighteen covered in bruises and needing a place to stay, Buck didn't hesitate to let her into his home and the new life he had created in L.A. While he was happy to have his sister back, he was tired of insisting to her that he wasn't as lonely as she accused him of being. So when she assumes he's in some secret relationship with his coworker and best friend, Eddie, Buck decides it couldn't hurt to tell a little white lie, especially when it meant his sister could focus on something that wasn't her own past.

Now Buck is stuck trying to navigate through a ruse of his own creation while dealing with newfound feelings for his best friend that seemed to sneak up on him.

Oh, and did he mention the mysterious accelerant that kept finding itself in his path, putting everyone he loves in danger?

read chapter one on ao3

“I’m just worried about you, Evan,” Maddie sighed into the phone. Buck’s heart did that stupid little stutter directly correlated with disappointing his sister and he held the phone away from his face as if that would lessen the guilt he felt. 

“Mads, I’m—”

“You’re not fine.” 

Buck sighed. “I wasn’t going to say fine. I was going to say—” Buck thought for a second, but his sister was right—as she usually was—and who was he to argue with her? “Alright, I was going to say fine, but it’s because it’s true!” Buck urged, hoping that the more times he said it, the more likely she’d be to believe it. (Maybe he could convince himself of the fact along the way.)

“It’s been almost two months since Abby—”

“Really, big sis? You just gotta bring that up?” He complained, groaning more than audibly as he stared up at the firehouse ceiling. He had found in the last few weeks of overtime shifts that counting the tiles and slabs that made up the structure was a great way to pass the time. 

“Yes, little bro, I have to bring it up because I’m—”

“—Worried about you.” Buck finished the sentence with her and prepared for annoyance or, at the very least, another deep sigh, but instead, she stayed quiet as if giving him the chance to speak up. 

Another sigh resonated before Maddie said, “You’re all alone in this big city with no family. You have to understand my worry.” 

“I do, I really do, but I’m finally finding myself here. The 118 has really taken me in as their own; they’re friends who almost qualify as family at this point!” Buck argued, running a hand through his hair. Maddie couldn’t possibly understand what his fellow firefighters had meant to him. 

“Have you at least started dating yet?” Maddie asked. Buck resisted the urge to hang up on her and took a deep breath as he considered her question. He could tell the truth, which was that he hadn’t so much as touched a woman since Abby tore his heart out of his chest and stomped it into the ground. 

Or…

“I’m dabbling,” he decided to say instead. 

It wasn’t completely a lie. He had decided a few days ago with a lot of pressure from Hen and Karen that he needed to at least attempt to get back out there and downloaded one of the most popular dating apps he could find. He set up his profile—albeit very scarcely—and had been waiting for those likes to come in. What he wasn’t expecting was almost complete radio silence and for his ego to take a direct hit when Chim got a date within the first hour of downloading it. 

“Anyone I should know about?” For some reason, Buck wasn’t expecting the question. He thought that Maddie would shy away from asking or just be happy that Buck had divulged even just that little bit of information, but no. She just had to put her brother on the spot and have him panicking about what to say. 

“Soon?” He sputtered, immediately regretting his words the moment Maddie’s small squeal echoed through the speaker. 

“Evan Buckley, I knew you were keeping something from me the second you said you were fine! You knew that I wouldn’t just take that laying down, right? You must’ve!” The happiness in her voice broke Buck’s heart a little further and he couldn’t back down; not when her joy was so obvious in her rambling and the way she giggled into the phone. 

“I— It’s really new, Mads,” Buck muttered as he tilted his head to the side and let his phone rest against his cheek. 

“New is good and you deserve good, Buck,” Maddie said, the words like a gentle caress to his cheek that he would have leaned into if she was there. As if an idea had just occurred to her, Maddie gasped and said excitedly, “I’m gonna come visit. I’ve gotta meet this family of yours and you can’t avoid introducing me to whoever is making your life a little less lonely if I show up at your door.” Buck was annoyed that she had a point, but the prospect of having his sister around after a few years of space had his heart warming in his chest. 

“You’re welcome here any time, Mads. I’ve really missed—”

“I’ve gotta go,” Maddie said, her voice quieter and a bit more panicked than Buck would ever have wanted to hear. “Doug needs me to— Well, he just needs me. Will you please stop being such a stranger and let me in on your life from now on, little brother?” Buck rolled his eyes at the term of endearment but agreed easily anyway. 

“You know everything there is to know, sis.” 

He wished he could be surprised when he got the text a few hours later that a trip to L.A. just wasn’t in the cards for her.

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

The one-eighteen was quiet—though Buck wouldn’t dare say the word—for the majority of his shift a few days after his call with Maddie, which he was grateful for because Bobby was tabling his famous pasta bar as Buck skipped up the firehouse steps. The rest of the team was already seated in their usual spots and Buck took his next to the newest recruit, Eddie, elbowing his side as he leaned to scoop up the first piece of lasagna. 

“Ay, the rest of us eat first, unless you’re planning on serving me, Diaz,” Buck teased with an over-exaggerated wink.

“You know I just live to serve you, Buckley,” Eddie shot back easily and Buck couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside of him. It had been their thing since the new guy started. Buck would flirt with him until the rest of the team groaned or stopped it and apparently, Hen was at her wits end already if the piece of bread that slammed into Buck’s head was any indication. 

“ Jeez , Hen, we’re just having some fun,” Buck pouted, taking a large bite out of the piece of food that landed on his plate. 

“Do you always have to flirt with the newbie? It’s honestly sickening,” Hen complained with a roll of her eyes but Buck knew there was no heat in her words. He realized that look was all too similar to the one his sister would have given him. Buck laughed and tossed a grape tomato in her direction in retaliation. 

“There’s no stopping us now,” Buck assured her with a wink.  

And there really wasn’t. Buck and Eddie had been like that since the very beginning, and they only grew more comfortable and in sync in the few months they had spent working together. Eddie had joined the team as an openly gay single dad with no hesitation and Buck had respected that immediately. He was not one to hide his interest in any and all genders, but he wasn’t exactly waving a flag when he started at the one-eighteen. 

There was about a minute of silence when Eddie introduced himself before Buck decided that the best way to smooth him onto the team dynamic was to hit on him. Buck made a ridiculous come-on about a firehose that was brushed aside by the rest of the team, but Eddie laughed and gave it right back. The two had been fast friends ever since, much to the dismay of the rest of their team. 

“What’s everyone’s plans for the next three days off?” Buck asked as he stacked both his and Eddie’s plates full of food, tossing an untouched piece of bread behind his back that Eddie caught seamlessly just before it landed in his salad dressing. 

“Christopher and I have a Marvel marathon planned that I couldn’t even try to get out of,” Eddie offered, slurping up a spaghetti noodle as Buck sat back down. “Which reminds me that he wanted me to ask you if you could come?” Eddie asked, peering at Buck out of the corner of his eye. Buck wasn’t sure where the sudden shyness had come from, but before he could ask or answer, Bobby was chiming in. 

“May and Harry are with Michael so I will be finally showing Athena that my cooking skills are not just for show,” Bobby said with a large smile on his face. Buck liked seeing him like that, unapologetically happy for the new life he was starting. 

“I’m planning on sleeping until my alarm goes off in three days,” Chim laughed from where he leaned back in his chair. “What about you, Buckaroo?” 

“Well, I was going to try and find a date because my sister won’t stop bugging me about being single, but…” He trailed off, cupping Eddie’s shoulder tightly in his hand, “I just got an offer I’d be a fool to refuse.” 

Eddie smiled and shrugged off Buck’s touch with a fond roll of his eyes before they focused on his plate. Buck glanced around at his team with an uncontrollable smile on his face as they bantered and laughed and listened intently to whatever story Hen was telling about her son, Denny. He thought back to his conversation with Maddie and how worried she had sounded for him, as if he was alone without Abby. 

He wasn’t. His team—their laughter and camaraderie, their friendship and love, their shared stories and experience—was everything he needed.

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

Buck was stuck with the dishes once the table was cleared, but he didn’t mind. He liked to get lost in the mundane task of scrubbing and cleaning, the clanging of the dishes a friendly reminder that he had spent much-needed bonding time with his team. Plus, doing the dishes meant he got to decide where they would go out after their shift and he had the best places in mind. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” Buck heard Chim’s voice softer than he expected from the second-floor terrace. 

“I’m— That’s just the question of the day, isn’t it?” Buck’s heart dropped as he recognized the all too familiar voice and before he could think twice, his legs were bringing him down the stairs in a sprint. “I’m looking for—”

“Maddie?” Buck asked. When she turned, he caught sight of the bruises littering her face and peaking out from underneath the collar of her shirt. The long sleeves did nothing to hide the darkness around her wrists and she didn’t even try to cover up the gashes on her cheek and lip.

“Hey, Evan,” she said weakly, a forced smile tugging at her lips. Buck had her in his arms before her legs could fully give out and he held her tightly to his chest, careful of the soreness he knew was probably hidden underneath her clothes. 

“Hey, hey, I got you. I got you, you’re okay,” Buck whispered into her hair as she sobbed, nails clawing at his back that probably would have hurt if he wasn’t so focused on providing his sister comfort. He caught Chim’s eyes over her shoulder, EMT bag in hand, and shook his head, searching the room for Hen. Chim seemed to understand exactly what he was doing and ran to the back where Buck was pretty sure Hen was resting. 

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Maddie choked out as she tried to pull away. Buck wouldn’t let her, though, as he threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her temple softly. 

“Here is perfect, okay? Don’t worry about it,” Buck reassured. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say to her. He had known her relationship with Doug wasn’t the best and there was no doubt in his mind that that monster had hurt her. The way her body trembled and her voice shook had Buck feeling uneasy himself as he led her to one of the more comfortable couches in the station. 

“Hey, sweetie, I’m Hen. You’re Buck’s sister? Maddie?” Hen said as she approached, carefully as if walking up to an easily spooked animal. Buck appreciated it as much as it hurt him to see. 

“That’s me, the overbearing big sister,” Maddie attempted to joke, but it fell flat to everyone that had gathered around except for Buck. 

“I don’t think I ever used the word ‘overbearing’ specifically. Maybe persistent, annoying was probably dropped in there a time or two,” Buck teased. He was too grateful when Maddie’s hand came up to swat his shoulder to focus on the wince on her face at the movement. 

“She can’t be worse than you, Buckaroo,” Chim chimed in from where he stood a few feet away, flanked by Bobby and Eddie, who Buck noted was paying closer attention to where he kneeled beside his sister than he was at Maddie like everyone else. 

“I promise I’m not,” Maddie said weakly. Buck held onto her hand delicately as Hen settled beside her, the EMT bag on her lap. 

“Any family of Buck’s is family of ours,” Bobby stated, nodding at Hen as if giving her the okay to fully check up on her. 

“He’s told me a lot about you guys, his family away from family. I—” Maddie’s breath hitched as Hen pressed her thumbs over the bruises along her collarbones and she pressed her lips together to compose herself before she continued. “I’m sorry for barging in this way, looking like—”

“—Like a Buckley?” Eddie offered, easing the bit of tension of what wasn’t being said in the room. Buck sent him a thankful nod as he squeezed his sister’s hand. “We’ve heard y’all are prone to accidents. The number of times I’ve had to patch up this one on company time is too many and counting.” Buck laughed and tossed a friendly finger in Eddie’s direction, smiling when Maddie seemed to relax at the banter. 

“This one is always tossing himself into the fire quite literally, huh?” Maddie asked. Buck could tell she was relieved to have the conversation moved away from her and he didn’t mind being the target for her benefit. 

“I’ve only been here for a few months, but I’m pretty sure Buck would put anyone before himself.” Eddie’s voice was a lot closer than Buck had expected and he didn’t realize how much tension was building up inside of him until Eddie’s hand landed in between his shoulder blades. He glanced up to catch his friend’s eye, smiling softly at the steady and comforting press on his back. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly who he is,” Maddie muttered. When Buck glanced up at her, her eyes were narrowed and darted back and forth between him and Eddie accusatorily. That was not good . Buck cleared his throat.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Buck asked.

Eddie ran his hand up to Buck’s shoulder, squeezing gently and Buck couldn’t resist reaching up to let his palm brush over the back of Eddie’s hand, letting him know how much the gesture was appreciated. Bobby and Chim hesitantly nodded in response before they all disappeared, leaving an even more tense Maddie and nerve-filled Buck alone with Hen who was treating the cut on Maddie’s cheek. 

As if scared for Buck to ask, Maddie offered, “It had been a few months, Buck. I thought— I really thought he had changed.” Buck sighed and rested his forehead on Maddie’s knee, relaxing only marginally when Maddie’s hand patted the back of his head. 

“What was it this time? Did you argue with him a little too hard? Maybe you didn’t reach the level of perfection he always required of you?” 

“Buck—” Hen warned, shooting a look that could kill in Buck’s direction. 

“No, it’s— It’s okay. He’s right either way,” Maddie relented with a deep sigh. “It had been building since I said I wanted to visit you in L.A. I told him that you had alluded to seeing someone and that I wanted to see if it was true. He said I couldn’t go, that he was the only family I needed, and when I argued against that…” Maddie trailed off, gesturing to her face and that was enough for Buck to put together what happened next. 

“He did this because of me?” Buck’s voice shook as he glanced back at his sister, reaching a hand up to stroke a finger over the dark bruise on her jaw. Maddie grabbed it and turned toward her brother, leveling their eyes together with a protectiveness in them that provided him the calm he needed. 

“This was not your fault, Evan,” Maddie said sternly. 

“It’s neither of your faults,” Hen added, resting her palm on Maddie’s arm softly. Maddie nodded and smiled at Hen as brightly as she could given the circumstances. 

“She’s right and I came here because I can’t have this happen anymore,” Maddie stated, holding onto Buck’s hand a little tighter. “You mentioned your captain’s girlfriend was a cop?” 

Buck nodded and wrapped his arms around his sister, wishing he had never let go in the first place.

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

Athena had arrived at the station quicker than Buck had expected her to. Upon seeing him, she pulled him into a tight hug that he didn’t realize he had needed so much before disappearing into Bobby’s empty office with Maddie. He didn’t trust just anyone with his sister, but the second the door shut, he felt like he could finally take a breath. 

He was flanked by both Hen and Eddie in a flash while Chim paced in front of them, chewing on a piece of beef jerky to stay occupied. Bobby watched from above, silently observing his team, and looking ready to step in if Buck needed it. They were all there for him and when the door finally opened after what felt like hours later, the smile that tugged at the corner of Maddie’s lips told Buck she had seen just that. 

“Again, I’m really sorry for—” Athena shook her head and pointed a finger at Maddie, effectively stopping her unneeded apology. 

“You’ll only have to be sorry if you don’t let this one take care of you the way you deserve,” she said, raising her eyebrows like a challenge. Maddie pressed her lips together and nodded bashfully as she leaned into the arm Buck had thrown around her neck. 

“Buck, shift’s just about over. Why don’t you show your sister where she’ll be staying?” Bobby said. It was an order as much as a suggestion but Buck was going to take him up on it either way. 

“Yeah, that sounds great. Let me know if you need me to come back in.” Bobby silenced him with one look.

“We can survive the next hour without you, man,” Eddie chimed in. He walked over and pulled Buck into a one-armed hug as if he knew nothing could pry him away from his sister. Buck was grateful for the extra warmth Eddie provided him, either way.

“If you guys need anything, you know where we’ll be,” Hen assured, rubbing a gentle palm down Maddie’s arm until their hands were connected. Maddie squeezed it tightly and mouthed her thanks at Hen who brushed it off with a wave of her hand. 

“I can’t thank you guys enough,” Buck began, but he stopped himself from saying any more before any of his team could argue. “I’ll see you in a few days?” He asked, directing his attention to Bobby so he could let his captain know that his sister arriving wouldn’t impact his work. As if he already knew, Bobby nodded and wrapped an arm around Athena’s waist. 

“We’ll probably see you before then,” Bobby offered with a slight wink and Buck laughed. 

“You guys sure I can steal my little brother away early?” Maddie asked nervously. 

“Now that you’ve teased us with him leaving, you can’t take it back,” Eddie said from beside Buck. They both had to laugh and Buck punched Eddie’s arm in retaliation only for Eddie to grab onto his hand tightly, not letting him pull away yet. His voice was low as he muttered, “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” 

It was meant to be a question, but Buck knew it wasn’t. Everyone around them was so focused on Maddie and her injuries—which Buck couldn’t blame them for—that none of them really stopped to think how tough the next few days may be for the Buckley’s as a whole. But not Eddie. Just one glance from his friend told Buck that Eddie was well aware of the toll this might take on Buck’s good-natured mind and that Eddie was going to be there through it all. 

“Yeah,” Buck confirmed, resting a hand on Eddie’s neck in a friendly gesture of comfort, “I’ll call you.”

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

“I’m not going back there,” Maddie said the minute the door to Buck’s apartment shut. 

“I know you’re not,” Buck agreed because even if she hadn’t made the choice herself, he wasn’t going to see his big sister hurt like that again. 

“I grabbed what I could before I left and it’s going to take me a little while to get back on my feet, but—”

“Hey,” Buck said gently, wrapping his arms around his sister once more, “we’re gonna figure this out. It’s always been just the two of us, right? Sure, a few years have gone by, but you’re still the most important person in the world to me and we’re going to figure this out.” He repeated, believing the words so fully that Maddie must have, too. Her shoulders slumped in either relaxation or defeat, Buck couldn’t be sure which, and she pulled away enough for Buck to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“Can I stay here for a little? Just until—”

“Maddie, stop. You’re staying here whether you like it or not,” Buck said with a laugh, ruffling her hair in his hand before she could swat him away. 

“I just don’t want to impose on any guests you might have around,” Maddie said, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing around his apartment as if looking for signs of additional life. 

Buck sighed, “Go take a shower while I make up some dinner.” Maddie’s laugh was so refreshing, the tension of the last few hours seemed to fall right off of his shoulders. 

When he heard the water turn on, he busied himself with finding dinner even though he was still full from the large lunch at the station. He wasn’t sure when the last time Maddie had eaten was but her skin was too pale even through the bruises for him not to offer her something good. He rummaged through his cabinets for way too long, losing track of time as he listened to Maddie’s voice stop and start in the shower. 

He used to love listening to her sing. She had always been carefree and beautiful and that was always something he admired. He could hear the hesitance in her voice as she weakly sang through the chorus of one of her favorite country songs and wished he could heal whatever it was inside that had her balking. Buck loved her more than anything in the world.

With a deep breath, he reminded himself that she had made that first step, the one he had wanted her to so many years before. He smiled to himself, grateful that she made it back to him mostly in one piece. Even though she didn’t have that fire in her eyes that he remembered, he knew that her deciding to come home to him was the spark she needed to light it back up. 

A knock at the door had him cursing because the water had shut off and he still didn’t have dinner on the table. When he opened the door and saw Eddie, two pizza boxes in hand, he thought he might cry. 

“I figured you usually go grocery shopping with Chris and I and we’re running low on food for two so—” Buck interrupted him by wrapping him another suffocatingly tight hug. 

“Man, you could not have arrived at a better fucking time,” Buck sighed with relief. “I can’t believe you did this for her,” he muttered mostly to himself. Eddie opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Maddie trotted down the stairs, patting her hair down with a towel. 

“Eddie, right?” She asked, a twinkle in her eye that Buck wasn’t too fond of given the situation. “Did you bring us dinner?” 

Eddie nodded and mumbled, “Yeah, for, uh, you actually.” Buck took the pizza boxes from his hands and Eddie immediately ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as if suddenly bashful. Buck thought he looked more adorable than usual but brushed it aside. 

“That is so sweet of you,” Maddie said, knocking her hip against Buck’s. “Isn’t that so sweet of him, Evan?” Eddie snickered and Buck knew it was because of the use of his first name. He shot an unimpressed glance at Eddie who pressed his lips together in return as if holding back more laughter. 

“Eddie’s just a regular old saint if you ask anyone,” Buck explained with much more sarcasm in his voice than he really intended. Maddie didn’t seem to notice as she smiled up at Eddie. 

“Are you staying for dinner? I’m sure Buck would appreciate the company,” Maddie said happily, side-eyeing Buck as if he’d even thought to go against her words. 

“Oh, no, I gotta get back to my kid,” Eddie said, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. Buck knew Christopher wasn’t with him or else he would have asked them both to come inside. 

“You have a kid?” Maddie asked, mouth agape for reasons Buck didn’t know but would definitely ask her about later. 

“Yeah, Christopher. He’s—”

“—The best kid in the entire world,” Buck interrupted, turning to his sister. “Maddie, this kid is a spitfire and he’s got jokes and comebacks for everything, I swear! And he’s like the smartest 8-year-old I’ve ever met, not that I’ve hung out with many 8-year-olds, but still. You’re gonna love him!” Buck decided. He must have been rambling as both his sister and Eddie were staring over at him with amused looks on their faces. “…What?” 

“I mean, I was just gonna tell her his age, but I guess all that stuff is true, too,” Eddie teased. He flinched when Buck swatted at him with the hand that wasn’t holding the pizza. 

“He sounds incredible. I hope I get to meet him?” Maddie asked. Buck nodded quickly and a smile Buck wasn’t sure he had ever seen before tugged at the corner of Eddie’s lips. Buck was just about to offer for them to come over the following night when he remembered what he had already agreed to. 

“Oh, crap. The Marvel movie night!” Buck exclaimed as he finally set the pizzas down on the side table. “Did you already tell Chris I was gonna join?” 

“Yeah, but it’s totally fine. I’m sure he’ll understand that your sister is here and—”

“Nonsense! You promised that kid a movie night, he’s gonna get a movie night!” Maddie shouted as she opened up the pizza box and helped herself to a slice. Buck was glad she seemed to still have the appetite he remembered. “I don’t mind having a night to myself. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to just cry over a sad Hallmark movie with a glass of wine, you know?” Buck didn’t, but he also really wanted to hang out with the Diazes. 

“We can always reschedule. Marvel isn’t going anywhere,” Eddie offered, but Maddie just shook her head and slapped Buck’s arm like it was his job to convince Eddie he would be a fool to do that. 

“I’ll be over tomorrow at five with sandwiches to pay you back for tonight, okay?” Buck said softly, holding Eddie’s bicep in his palm. A blush covered his face and Buck wasn’t sure why he was being so nervous all of a sudden; they bantered and touched like that all the time. 

“Yeah, okay. Maddie, thank you for letting me steal him and enjoy the pizza. Buck, I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.” He waved as he backed away and Buck watched as he jumped into his car and drove off. 

Once the door was shut, Maddie smacked him on the arm and Buck recoiled, sending a confused glance at his sister. 

“What the hell was that for?” Buck asked, rubbing his skin even though it really didn’t hurt that bad. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were dating a coworker !” Maddie shouted, gaping at Buck with joy in her eyes that he had missed more than he realized. He was so focused on her happiness, it took him more than a few reasonable moments to realize what she had said. 

“I’m— Wait, what?” Buck asked, pausing mid-bite on the piece of the pepper and sausage pizza he made a mental reminder to thank Eddie for tomorrow. 

“Eddie?!” Maddie repeated in a squeal. “I knew after our conversation that whoever you were dating wasn’t just any old person, but another firefighter? A male firefighter at that? No wonder you didn’t want to tell me yet!” Buck blanched and finished chewing his pizza carefully so as to not choke. 

“Maddie, I mean this with no malice and all confusion; what the absolute fuck are you talking about?” Maddie scoffed and grabbed the pizza boxes, wandering to the living room and placing them on the coffee table. She made her way into the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge before settling down next to Buck who had to sit on the couch and think before he fell over. 

“Oh, you cannot even pretend that you guys aren’t head over heels for each other. The hand on your back at the station? The side hug? Bringing you pizza after a rough day? The blushing?!” Maddie raised her eyebrows at Buck and he honestly didn’t know how to respond. 

He should have said it was nothing. He should have said they were the only two openly not-straight men that he knew of who worked at the LAFD and were closer because of that. He should have said that they were just friends who put their lives at risk for each other every day so their relationship was bound to be special. He should have said all of that. 

But Maddie looked so happy and carefree so instead, he lied. 

“It’s… really new,” he said, echoing the words he had told her before she came to L.A. Her squeal of delight was enough for any regret he might have had to wash away and for his heart to soar that he could put that bright smile back on his sister’s face. 

“Evan Buckley, you have to tell me everything !”  Maddie crossed her legs on the couch and settled back against the cushions, making herself comfortable in the place Buck had started to call home. Even with the bruises and cuts littering her face, she looked at ease, and Buck smiled over at her widely. 

“There’s nothing to tell, Mads. He started at the station a few months ago and we just… hit it off. Like I said, it’s new and he’s… good.” He wasn’t sure why he had hesitated but he hoped she didn’t read too much into it. When she rested a gentle hand on his bicep and squeezed, he knew she had believed every word of what he had said. The fact it wasn’t a total lie was the only reason he didn’t let his guilt build up too much just yet. 

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” Maddie said softly, moving her hand up to cup the side of his face and brush her thumb along his cheekbone. He melted into the touch and closed his eyes, the words resonating through him as the ones he always longed to hear. 

“What for?” Buck asked. 

Maddie sighed and said, “For being you.” She tapped his nose with the tip of her finger before she added, “Now tell me all about him!”

[starlocked01]

Beautiful Mistakes

AO3 @tsshipmonth2020

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary-  Remy can't think before he has his coffee and that causes problems for him and his soulmate.

A/N- Slightly altered so that the marks disappear a few minutes after they’ve been received.

Day 9 Remile- Whatever you draw on your skin shows up on your soulmate

Emile could feel the slight itch on his cheek that indicated a message from his soulmate had appeared. He flushed with embarrassment but kept his composure. He quickly scrawled on his wrist.

Not now, Rem. I'm with a client.

He turned back to his patients with a smile and his wrist itched as Remy replied.

Oops

"Doc, you okay?"

"My apologies, my soulmate likes to send messages when he wakes up. Except he works… at night," Emile sighed, affectionately yet exasperated.

"Well the flags look cute, I guess as long as you're okay with your patients knowing..." Dot smiled and nodded encouragingly.

Emile paled, "he didn't…"

"I think he did," Larry replied.

Emile put a hand to his cheek, "it's a pride flag isn't it?"

"Oh don't worry, Doc! It's so cute! Larry, isn't it cute?"

"He's going to be rather upset with me. I can't check it, and he's not out at work yet… but enough about me, back to Dorry! Or if you prefer, Larrydot?? " Emile grinned despite the looks of confusion the couple were giving him. His cheek and wrist continued to itch but he insisted on staying focused on the session.

By the time Larry and Dot were leaving, the itching had crawled up his forearm. Remy must be rather upset.

He checked his watch. The next appointment was in 20 minutes. He could take 5 to read through the tirade and would still be able to review notes for the next couple. He rolled up his sleeve to see a block of text that grew more frantic the farther it got up his arm.

Babe check out the drawing!

I worked hard on that girl pls appreciate me

Em i have work in an hour

Look. At. Your. Cheek.

This isn't funny!

Okay it was supposed to be funny but i can't have a gay flag on my face at work they will kill me!!!!

Bitch

Bitch

You don't love me im gonna die because you don't love me

No one is gonna believe me if i have to lie about this

Please????

>:[

Emile chuckled and wrote back quickly.

This is your fault for drawing on your cheek. You know I work and can't check messages right away.

He checked the time again and pulled out his phone, opening the camera app. He admired the little gay flag crossed with a pan flag. He took a quick selfie to preserve the drawing on his phone. It really was sweet, if unfortunately timed. Luckily, most of his clients would be fairly understanding. Remy's coworkers on the other hand would not.

The tirade on his arm had faded and  been replaced with a new line from Remy.

Don't judge me I didn't have my coffee yet girl

Emile chuckled and pulled his sleeve back down, finding the file and notes he had for the next couple's session.

Remy sat in his car, obsessively checking the mirror until the flags on his cheek faded away. The last thing he needed was to get outed by a soul mark. He was usually late anyway because of the line at Starbucks, what harm would one more day do?

A lot of harm, apparently.

His boss was waiting by the loading dock, impatiently tapping his foot as Remy strolled up.

"'Sup? What are we-"

"Don't even bother clocking in. You don't do shit here and this is the fifth time you've been late this month. You're done."

Remy sputtered, "this is homophobic!"

His boss stared hard at him, eyes narrowing, "You're lazy and you're gay? You're FIRED!"

"Whatever! Your loss, you prick!" Remy turned and flipped the man off as he walked back to his car. He got in and locked the doors, taking some deep breaths. He considered writing to Emile, but decided this was probably an in-person topic.

He restarted the car and drove home, mentally preparing for a lot of explaining.

Emile was surprised to see Remy's car in the driveway when he got home and more than a little concerned. He parked and hurried inside. He found his soulmate sitting in the dark, sipping coffee, and scrolling instagram.

"Remy? Are you okay?"

"Got fired."

"Oh my stars! What happened?"

Remy gave an exasperated sigh, "he didn't like me being late. He also blamed me being gay so idk maybe there's a lawsuit there."

"Was it because of the flags? I tried to check as soon as possible…"

"No… I'm usually late anyway," Remy sank deeper into the couch and Emile moved to sit down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe it was time for a career change. You can find somewhere more accepting with less crazy hours."

"Maybe I'll become a stripper. They make good money right?" Remy mused, leaning into Emile’s side. The other man wrapped him in a one armed hug.

"While I am sure you'd be a natural, I'd be very concerned for your safety as a sex worker, dear. What about something you're passionate about?" Emile tried to be encouraging, numbers running through his head calculating exactly how long they could live off a single salary.

The outlook was not super promising.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll do some research tonight and fill out some applications. Promise," Remy gave Emile a smile that was skin deep, "what do you want for dinner? I'm starving."

After a week of Remy submitting applications and hearing nothing back, Emile was about ready to suggest the exotic dancer route himself. It wasn't that they were under financial stress (yet), moreso that Remy was a lot more rambunctious being cooped at home during the night. He kept waking Emile up too early and the loss of sleep was starting to affect his clients.

"Hey Doc? You're kinda unusually quiet today…"

Emile shook himself back to alertness, "sorry about that Elliott, where were we?"

"Um," they tapped their fingers together while thinking, "I think I was talking about how my soulmate never writes back. They check every message but I never get any from them. It doesn't… feel good."

"Remember what we've said before, Elliott, your worth isn't based on your soulmate. Whatever reason they choose not to write back, the fact of the matter is that you're still an amazing and powerful person in your own right."

Emile was interrupted by an itching on his wrist. Remy would usually still be asleep by now it was late enough in the morning.

He resisted the urge to check the mark as he spoke with Elliott and he could feel the itch crawling up his arm.

After the session, Emile quickly pulled up his sleeve, praying for good news.

I GOT IT!!!

Finally got an interview for tomorrow!!

<3 <3 <3

There were several more hearts and Emile allowed himself a small smile of relief. He doodled back a heart or two for Remy before returning his focus back to work.

They could celebrate when that interview turned into a position.

He greeted the next couple with a broader smile and a tad more exuberance, much to their dismay.

Remy was nervous. This job sounded too good to be true and they'd practically hired him on the spot. He wasn't about to let his soulmate down though.

He followed the man down the hall, sipping his tea for comfort.

"Honestly just don't let anyone eat anything inedible or hit each other and you'll do great," the man smiled, showing Remy into a room with a dozen kids and two other frazzled looking adults.

Piece of cake right?

Emile was in the middle of a session when he felt the itch on his cheek. He tried to smile through it, but then he felt more itches on his legs and arms and nose. His clients were too preoccupied actually talking through their issue with each other so Emile checked his arm to find a rainbow of scribbles that kept growing.

He put a hand to his face to cover his nose and cheek. What had Remy gotten himself into?

Pretty soon his clients were used to seeing Emile with colorful marks all over his face. He explained that his soulmate worked with kids and almost everyone nodded knowingly. He did ask that if they ever saw an inappropriate drawing they let him know so he could check it right away.

Some days he would draw little cartoons for the kids to fill in. They loved that and he always sent them little hearts back when they did a good job (they always did a good job).

And most importantly, Remy was having a great time with his job and got to be home at nights, so they saw each other a lot more often. They both enjoyed that.

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

Sometimes Speed-Dating Works

Commission for the sweetest @depressedstressedlemonzest! Commission info can be found here!

~

Temperance, called Tami, inspected herself in the mirror, and was pleased with what she saw. Ever since she’d started making her own clothes, she’d felt drawn to early Edwardian fashion, and her newest outfit showed her growing skill. With the addition of her hat and purse, she cut quite the dashing figure.

She also knew that there were few who would admire her talent with her body underneath. But honestly, fuck them.

The speed-date she’d signed up for was being held at a rather low-end cafe a few blocks over that was at least big enough to contain a steady stream of moving people. She wavered on whether to walk or take the bus… then decided to walk. It would put pink in her cheeks, at least.

Her neighbors were used to her, and stepped out of her way easily. It was when she left her neighborhood that people started looking at her oddly. She ignored it. It was like this everywhere. So what?

The cafe was crowded. The person assigning seats at the door completely overlooked Tami, until she cleared her throat politely and said, “I’m here for the date, too.”

“Oh!” He smiled, but it looked more like a wince. “Sorry, sorry. What’s your name?”

“Tami Smith.”

“Right, okay. Uhhh, you have the eighth seat down from this direction, on the left side.”

“Thank you.”

“Mm-hm.” Another wincing smile, and Tami moved on, resisting the urge to shake her head. Honestly, these fast-fashion addicts were worse than her own family.

~

Settling in one of the folding chairs provided for this occasion, she heard it creak faintly. Cheap. She rearranged her skirts and waited.

The first man wouldn’t stop staring at her bosom, and answered her friendly questions with monosyllabic answers. She did not miss his relief when the timer went off.

The second man tried harder, but he seemed put off by her outfit, and was in general rather cagey.

The first woman was braced, and immediately started making comments on how “brave” Tami was to come to one of these things. Tami was polite back, but she was very annoyed and was quite happy when the timer rang.

It was disappointment after disappointment. Not that Tami had had high hopes; mostly this was just a way to pass the time, and maybe talk to someone who wasn’t her coworkers, neighbors, or family. But this was boring, and annoying, and she almost regretted signing up.

Then a tall, muscular woman sat across from her, and Tami’s expectations cranked up several notches. Because the other woman was dressed Edwardian, too, but somewhat lower-class than Tami’s preferred wardrobe. They just stared at each other for a moment.

Then the woman grinned, and said, “I’m Kimi.”

“I’m Tami.”

“Where’d you get that hat? It looks great with your face shape.”

Tami blushed faintly and smiled. “A milliner in London. I went to stay there for work for a few months.”

“London! I’ve only ever been to Stratford-Upon-Avond, and not for long.” Kimi seemed… genuinely interested, leaning forward on her brawny forearms, her sleeves rolled up neatly and showing her muscle. She wasn’t a body-builder type, but she certainly did some form of exercise that built muscle. Tami found herself being maybe a teensy bit more interested in Kimi than she’d expected. “Where do you work, that you got to visit England?”

“I’m in marketing, but I was flown out to work on details with the sister-firm in London.”

Conversation flowed so naturally between them, and Tami found herself becoming very interested. Kimi made her own clothes, too, and thought that Tami’s were excellent quality; she was an accountant, but she worked out because sitting for so long every day made her restless; her parents had been from Laos, but moved to America for her father’s work. Tami answered in kind: Kimi’s tailoring was impeccable, her taste in time periods exquisite (they both laughed at that); marketing was fine, but it was her coworkers who annoyed her so much that sometimes during lunch she would take long walks to work out her anger; her own parents were Michiganders, born and bred, but Tami had moved because she couldn’t stand her family. They talked about hobbies, and books, and when the timer went off, they scribbled their phone numbers on napkins and exchanged them, before the next “date” arrived.

Tami felt a glow of triumph throughout the rest of the evening, and when everyone was standing and leaving, a few folks found her and offered their numbers. She took them with thanks, but she knew she wasn’t going to call them. Actually, it wasn’t until she was on the sidewalk waiting for the light to turn green that she realized she didn’t want to talk to anyone but Kimi.

“’Ello, m’lady,” a familiar voice in a terrible English accent said beside her. She grinned and turned. It wasn’t very usual for her to need to look up at other women, but Kimi was several inches taller than her. Kimi grinned back. “Can I walk you home?” she asked Tami.

“That would be delightful,” Tami replied.

They continued talking all the way to Tami’s apartment building. It was… nice. Kimi waited until Tami was inside to leave. Tami couldn’t help grinning giddily as she ascended the stairs to her floor.

When she had divested herself of her suit and put on her nightgown, she texted Kimi to ask if she’d reached home safely. Kimi replied only three minutes later in the affirmative.

I really liked our date tonight. Do you want to go for coffee next Saturday?

Tami didn’t even hesitate. That sounds wonderful! When and where were you thinking?

~

The coffee date was a success. So was the dinner the next week. So was the kiss after Kimi walked Tami up to her doorstep.

Tami’s coworkers seemed baffled when she came to work happy, and were even more baffled when she said she’d started dating.

“You just, you always seemed so work-oriented,” David said weakly, glancing at her waist.

“I can be fat and date,” Tami replied calmly, sipping her coffee.

“That’s not...” Tami met his gaze steadily, and David decided not to be even more of a dick.

But that comment got Tami thinking. Kimi had never commented on her size, whether to praise or insult, and in fact, she never even seemed to notice. Her arms fit nicely around Tami’s waist and she made room for her in crowded places as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was lovely, and Tami was both pleased and puzzled.

They had another date planned that Saturday. A stroll through the park, and then dinner at a fancy restaurant, Kimi’s treat. Tami dressed in her newest suit, pink and peachy-gold, with white lace. Kimi was picking her up; she would text when she was there. So Tami spent time searching the internet for that glove-maker who had made those lovely silk opera gloves for her. Unfortunately, the glove-maker was not taking custom orders at that time. Not surprising, since they were now much more in demand. Still, a little disappointing. Tami would’ve liked to order some proper driving gloves for Kimi.

Her phone trilled, and she snatched it up eagerly.

I’m here! And there’s a lout by the door looking shady.

I’ll be down shortly. It’s probably Jacob. He’s always forgetting his keys.

Tami stood, fluffed her skirts, made sure of her purse, secured her hat, and swept out of her apartment.

When she reached the foyer, she found three girls whispering nervously to each other. Seeing her looking at them, they moved quickly out of her way.

“Are you alright?” Tami asked them, surprised. “I don’t recognize any of you.”

“There’s a guy outside,” one of the girls blurted.

Tami immediately straightened, and took out her phone. “Just a moment, girls,” she murmured, and texted Kimi.

There’s some frightened young girls in here. That lout might have been following them.

On it.

The slam of a car door. The door and walls were too well-made for Tami to hear words, but she definitely heard an angry male voice. And then that voice screamed, and Kimi rumbled something, and there was the sound of running and crying.

Kimi knocked politely on the door, and when Tami opened it cautiously, shielding the girls, Kimi smiled. She looked so handsome and dapper, her slightly-skewed hat the only indicator that there had been any kind of confrontation. “I broke his arm,” she said frankly.

There was a sigh of relief and a hysterical giggle from the girls behind Tami. She turned, and asked them, “Can you call yourselves a ride?”

“Yeah,” the girl who had spoken earlier replied. “We just… didn’t want to go past him.”

“Fair enough,” Kimi said. “Good luck. Stay safe.” She offered her arm to Tami, and with a final wave to the girls, they left.

They were both silent in the car for a few minutes. Then Tami asked, “Why did you break his arm?”

“I always break their arms,” Kimi replied calmly. “If a man scares or hurts a girl or woman, I break his arm. That’s how it works.”

Tami bit her lip, then asked softly, “Kimi, what happened?”

More silence. Finally, Kimi said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tami nodded, and didn’t mention it again.

The walk around the park was calm enough that they both relaxed, and Tami asked about work. Kimi grimaced and said, “Oh, they’re planning to fire people. For the good of the company. If I’m not one of the lucky few chosen to be booted, I’ll be the one tasked with removing them from the system. Which shouldn’t be so hard, except our software is bullcrap.”

“That’s not fair!” Tami exclaimed, straightening in outrage. “You told me they’ve already laid people off.”

“Yeah.” Kimi took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. “I need to find a new job. Kinda hard, though, when you’re a giant butch and don’t care about hiding it.”

Tami snorted derisively. “Any company would be lucky to have your skills. Can you get a job as a fashion designer?”

Kimi laughed. “Yeah, sure, let me just whip out my portfolio from college ten years ago and apply to the nearest fashion house,” she joked, grinning at Tami.

“I’m not joking,” Tami replied flatly. “I’ve seen your patterns and sketches, Kimi. You’d be an amazing designer. Tell you what—we’ll start our own business. You design, I’ll photograph, and we’ll both sew. You can sell patterns, too.”

Kimi’s smile slipped, and she looked genuinely surprised. Tami tucked her hand in Kimi’s elbow and said, “Of course, we don’t have to start tomorrow. Just… think about it, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Kimi said, and her voice was maybe a little breathless. “Yeah, okay.” Then she cleared her throat, and looked away, and asked, “How was work for you this week?”

Tami snorted. “Annoying. My coworkers don’t believe me that I’m dating you. And god, Nate was so annoying about his son’s birthday...”

Kimi relaxed as Tami continued talking, and soon they were both smiling and laughing again. They almost missed their reservation, walking around the park and talking. But they arrived in time, and even though the hostess gave them strange looks, they didn’t worry. The meal was quiet, but in a safe, content way. When dessert arrived, Tami asked Kimi softly, “Do you want to come over and watch a movie tonight?”

Kimi actually blushed, but grinned. “I’d like that,” she replied simply.

Tami couldn’t help feeling smug as Kimi put her arm around Tami’s waist as they left. When they got to Tami’s building, they snuck up the stairs with a delicious sense of getting away with something. The only moment Tami realized this might have been a bad idea was when she opened her door and led Kimi in—and realized her place was a mess of fabric scraps, tailoring supplies, and pieces of paper from modified patterns.

“Oh dear,” she said, beginning to blush. “Um. Please pardon the mess.”

Kimi laughed and kicked off her shoes. “My place is far worse,” she promised, coming up behind Tami and putting her hands on Tami’s waist. She surveyed the apartment over Tami’s head, while the shorter woman blushed deeply. She really wasn’t used to such intimate positioning. “At least your furniture matches.”

That made Tami laugh, too, and she leaned back in Kimmi’s arms tentatively, smiling wider as Kimi slid her arms comfortably around her. “Yes, well, I still don’t think puce couches work with lavender walls, but it’s something.”

“It certainly is. Oh, shoot, your hat! Sorry, I squished it a little.”

“Fuck the hat. Let me get out of this rig and we can lounge around watching silly home reno shows.”

Kimi laughed again. “Sounds perfect,” she said, with such warmth that Tami found herself reluctant to ever move from Kimi’s grip.

But move she must. So she did, and hurriedly chose her most comfortable kimono before taking off her suit and hanging it up carefully. Wrapping the kimono firmly around herself, she blushed to realize that she was, essentially, in just her underwear and a bathrobe. Was that… too much?

Probably. But she didn’t think Kimi would mind.

When she exited her bedroom, she grinned to see Kimmi taking up the whole couch, stretched out and propped up on either end, with the remote on her chest. She’d taken off her jacket and her suspenders, and when she saw Tami, she blushed furiously.

“Your house, you choose,” she drawled, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

“Wrong way around. House guest chooses program.” Tami walked over and stood beside the couch, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you going to leave some space for me?” she demanded.

Kimi grinned wickedly. “I did,” she replied, and patted her stomach.

It was out before Tami could stop it—“What if I hurt you?”

Kimi snorted. “Unlikely. If I can pick you up, you won’t hurt me.”

“You can’t pick me up,” Tami accused, trying to ignore the tingles of happiness.

A sigh, and Kimi sat up, stood, turned to Tami—and picked her right up, arms firm around Tami’s thighs. Tami yelped, and then laughed, and smacked the back of Kimi’s shoulder lightly. “Alright, alright, you win! Put me down!”

“Fine, fine,” Kimi sighed, and put her down, gently. But then she swept Tami up princess-style and plopped back on the couch in her former position, cuddling her host firmly and comfortably. Tami hid her face in Kimi’s collar to hide her increased blushing and frankly giddy smile.

“What show do you want?” Kimi asked, picking up the remote.

~

Three months later, Tami woke to Kimi stroking her hair thoughtfully.

They’d started spending more time at each other’s apartments, and agreed to call each other their girlfriend. It had been a while for both of them, but this was… a good thing, that they had. Tami closed her eyes again and smiled as Kimi kept running her fingertips through Tami’s hair. Maybe they could sleep in some more. It was Sunday, after all. Five more minutes.

“Tami?”

She wrinkled her nose, but answered, “Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking. About what you said a few months ago. About… starting our own online business, with clothes and stuff.”

Tami was instantly awake, and leaned her head back to look up at Kimi’s face. “You have?” she asked, surprised. She had thought Kimi had forgotten.

Kimi frowned a little, but nodded. “I was thinking… maybe you’re right,” she said slowly. “Maybe we could do something like that. Not full-time, I don’t think we could manage that, but… as a side thing.”

Tami smiled, slowly. “Kimi, love, that would be fantastic!”

Kimi smiled too, small and hopeful. “You think so?” she asked.

“Absolutely!”

“Good. Then we’ll do it.” Kimi kissed Tami deeply, then asked, “Shower or breakfast first?”

[lukemichaelcalumashton]

1,2, 15, 23, 42, 49 please! -hazel

hello hazel i love how i can always count on you to send me questions let's see @allsassnoclass

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) ok this one is the hardest question i had to skip it and then come back to it. and i still have no idea??? at first i would've picked one of my meet-cutes but after answering question number 2 for taylor and realizing i have more established relationship fics that might not be an accurate introduction to my fics ajdkjajd so maybe this prompt i wrote for maya? its cashton! there's fluff! there's 5sos dogs! there's humor! which are things you might see in more of my fics

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? already answered! here

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? i think it would have to be my Bake It Till You Make It fic where calum moves into ashton's apartment building and ashton bakes him muffins as an excuse to talk to him. it's not a particularly memorable au svfkjs but its a nice meet-cute and there's mashton and cake friendship and side muke and i feel like if i ever got any more ideas for it i could write another piece set in the same universe

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to? oh! well for trope i've always wanted to write a fake/pretend relationship fic which i already am for mashton (someday im picking it back up ahdkajd) and i have an idea for a cashton one too! as for au i would love write some kind of magic/supernatural au

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

yesss it was a comment from you actually <3 it was the one you left in this mashton fic specifically the part where you said "i feel very lucky to have you out here writing mashton because you're so talented and it hits right every time!!!!" like. i think i said it in my reply but that's probably one of the nicest things i've been told and it gives me so much motivation to keep writing mashton (they are motivation enough but its very fun to write them when i know you (and taylor and maya and anyone else who might stumble into our little mashton corner) will enjoy it) so yeah i wont get more emo than that. just know that i think about that comment a lot. <3 <3

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it! well it just so happens that i started a mashton songfic last week so im giving you a few lines! You might be able to guess which song it is just from this. or not ajkdjajd idk

Wednesday, at the cafe, at lunch

Don't be late!

Michael resists the urge to give Calum a call when he reads the text, just so he can tell him that he didn't agree to this, that just because Calum thinks he's miserable and lonely, it doesn't mean that he can go around setting Michael up with his coworkers. Okay, one coworker. That Calum insists is perfect for Michael, funny, charming and handsome, but unlike every guy Michael has ever dated, kind and gentle, too.

[lionheartedqlf]

dinner & daddy

Who: Quinton Fabray & Rachel Berry

When: 7/3 ; Evening - 7/4 ; Morning

Where: Berry Residence

What: What starts as a business dinner turns into a very interesting night for Quinn and Rachel

Warnings: Eating Disorder talk, self harm, almost sexy times with BDSM elements. It’s not safe for work babes.

Quinn really wasn't sure what he was getting himself into. With every weird thing going on with Rachel, applying to work for her father was possibly the worst idea he'd ever followed through on. However, he sucked it up. He needed a day job and  gay man was far less likely to care that he was trans. Unfortunately, this particular man was also Rachel's father and seemed, was shocked the right word, to be getting a job application from him. The man had been kind, inviting Quinn over for dinner. While he wasn't sure if this had anything to do with who he was or just the job, Quinn didn't know, but he got all dressed up anyway. It was the best he had, that also wasn't so formal he'd feel smothered. He'd debated not packing, but when looking at himself in the mirror without it was too much.

Five minutes before he'd agreed to be at the Berry residence, Quinn pulled up on his motorcycle. He took the fact he was early to calm his nerves and fix his hair before making his way up to the door. Squaring his shoulders, helmet under his arm, he knocked on the door. All he knew was that this was bound to be awkward and he really hoped his past wasn't brought up too much at dinner.

“Go answer the door for him honey.” Her dad calls out from the dining room as he set the table.

Rachel just huffs, rolling her eyes but places a smile on despite how sick she feels about all of this. How irritating her fathers think her playing hostess was the best idea considering who is behind the door.

“Welcome.” Rachel says as she opens the door, unable to stop herself from biting her lip. “It’s really nice to see you.” She admits before opening the door wider for him to step inside.

Quinn straightens up just a bit more as the door starts to open, a small smile on his face when he hears who is doing it. It spreads almost into a smirk when he sees Rachel bite her lip. "The pleasure is mine." His voice is soft and as he steps across the threshold, he leans in and places a gentle kiss to her cheek. "As requested." He whispers in her ear before pulling away. "Anywhere in particular I can put my helmet?"

Rachel shivers, there’s no gruffness to his voice but it still sounds seductive to her. “Of course it is.” She squeaks out before taking the helmet one hand holding it and the other touching at her cheek. “My dad invited some coworkers. You’re really going to get the whole performance. Consider yourself lucky.” Rachel removes her hand from her cheek and puts the helmet in the hallway closet. “I didn’t know you ride.”

Quinn laughs a bit at the way Rachel reacts, a smile still on is face. His eyebrow raised, in typical Fabray style at the mention of coworkers. "Is that so? Are we sure that's lucky?" He teases, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks around. "Last time I was in this house we got drunk in the basement." His voice was quiet, mostly to himself. "Oh, yeah. When my old car finally gave out, I got the bike."

“My dad puts on quite the show and my voice is something special. You know half of that is true.” She’s surprised it feels so easy. “That’s exactly what will happen this evening. I don’t last long.” She used to but now she had to get away from the food. “Is it fun?”

"That your voice certainly is. And I doubt you're lying about the  show." He smiled and he looked at Rachel. "Getting drunk or?" Quinn did his best to limit how often he got drunk and he never touched wine. Which was typically the kind of drink served at any sort of house event, that wasn't designated as a party. Well, no, he'd been to a few house parties that were definitely on the formal side and wine was the only alcohol served. "Yeah, I enjoy it. It's not really practical for the winter months but I've got a car for that."

“Usually.” Rachel nods, not planning on elaborating. “We’ve made mojitos if those interest you. Mango, pomegranate, and regular.” She shakes her head. “I still don’t really drive. But hopefully I won’t have to soon.”

"I think I can handle a mojito or two, though should I be worried my new possible boss is possibly trying to get me drunk?"He chuckled a bit, nodding as Rachel spoke. "I hope it goes well for you. I'm sure you're itching to get out of this town for good. You deserve to."

“He May have ulterior motive. I won’t disclose them. It depends on me. But he does believe you’ll be a hard worker. I know that you will be.” Rachel smiles. “I leave for my audition next week.”

"If he's trying to get me to sing he will be sorely disappointed, Quinn Fabray does not sing anymore." Quinn chuckled as he moved further into the house, taking it in. "Well, my work ethic hasn't changed so he doesn't have to worry about whether I'll be a hard worker or not. I might be a skateboarding occasional bum. But I know how to buckle down when it's needed of me." He smiles at Rachel. "That's good, I'm sure you'll blow them away."

“I forgot I could get you sing a duet with me. Or at least try. It gets old singing with your dads all the time.” She laughs. “You skateboard too? Color me surprised. I should probably bring you out. My daddy is eager to see you again.” She laughs. “We’ll see what happens.” Rachel speaks as an after thoughts she leads him out to the back yard. “Should have told you to bring a suit.”

"The closest I get to music, outside of my shower, is behind a piano or I play guitar. But yeah, no, duets are not on the table." Quinn chuckled as he follows Rachel. "I do. Something I picked up in Cleveland." He raised an eyebrow. "He is?" A grimace crossed his face as he stepped foot in the backyard. "I, uh... don't have one. I don't feel comfortable at a tailor." He mumbled.

“You play piano? You can play for me!” Rachel grins. Hiram and LeRoy great Quinn enthusiastically. “Help yourself. I’m sure Rachel will keep you company.”

Quinn sighed with a laugh. " I do, yes. You'll have to ask nicely, but I promise nothing decent after a few drinks." The idea of playing for Rachel was... well it wasn't the worst idea in the world. However he'd never tested his ability to play after more than one Jack and Coke. Quinn smiled as he was greeted. "Thank you for inviting me. I certainly will." He eyed Rachel, not entirely sure she actually would, just given things but he wasn't about to be rude.

“I ask nicely.” She promises, with a flip of her hair. 

 At his look she giggle. “Don’t worry. I’ve been spoken to. I’ve promised to be on my best behavior.” It was a bit cryptic but Rachel told her daddy everything and he tells her dad everything. “Do you want to mingle or come to the basement?”

Quinn resisted the urge to snort at the hair flip and couldn't help the raise of his eyebrow at her giggle. "Uh... okay." Quinn looked around. They were the youngest there by no less than fifteen years and that was not a crowd he exactly wanted to get chummy with. "I start in with trans jokes if I get comfortable enough and that is not the kind of impression I wish to be making tonight." He knew himself. If he got a drink in him and loosened up just enough he'd start talking and he really didn't want to accidentally shoot himself in the foot.

“The basement it is. I don’t exactly get chummy either. They’re all too nosy. They know too much.” Rachel grabs too mojitos and links arms with him. “You look nice, you know.”

Quinn grimaces with a laugh. "Can't blame you there." He smiled as Rachel linked arms with him. "Thank you, so do you. But then, you always do."

“We both know that’s not true.” Rachel keeps smiling, despite the way her stomach drops. “I’m glad you showed up.” Rachel leads him to the basement. A mini stage with a piano and microphone- bedazzled of course.

"Yes it is." He smiles, an almost inaudible, "At least to me,"added in under his breath. Quinn looks over at Rachel, a bemused smirk on his face. "The way you were texting me, I thought you didn't want me to be here." He can't help but shake his head at the sight of the basement. This brought back memories. "Now this brings back memories."

“A girl can be convinced. Alcohol loosens me up and that helps.” She’s reads to word vomit but stops herself. “Yes. Quinn the angry drunk. How badly I wanted to hug you the. Despite me being weepy.”

Quinn is slightly concerned by what Rachel says. Was this just alcohol induced chill? Could it get flipped? "Quinn is still an angry drunk, but he gets that from his father." He sighs. "Well, no, only when anything with wine in the name is used to get him there." It was true. His father had been a wine based alcoholic and it seemed anytime Quinn drank wine or even wine coolers he had a higher tendency to be an angry drunk. Any  other time he tended to be a flirty, and usually horny, drunk.

“I know he wasn’t a nice guy. You deserve a nice dad.” Rachel starts towards the stage, and takes a seat on the edge of it. “No wine. It’s not my families style really. I happen to like red wine, but only sometimes.”

Quinn shrugged. "C'est la vie." He joined Rachel on the edge of the stage, taking off the blazer he was wearing and rolling up the sleeves of the long sleeved shirt he was wearing. He needed to invest in nice, short sleeved shirts, that weren't button downs. He set the blazer on the stage off to his side and looked over at Rachel. "Nothing wrong with liking wine, it just doesn't agree with me."

“I’ve been thinking about you. I should say I still haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Rachel lifts her drink and takes a sip. “I wish I could give you what you’re wanting.”

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed at what Rachel said. She'd been thinking about him? "It took a long time," and a lot of sex, "before I could keep myself from thinking about you, honestly." He sighed, leaning his forearms on his elbows, looking down at his feet. "And then there you were again." Quinn took a sip of his drink, shrugging. "I made your life a living hell for three years, I should be grateful you even want to be around me."

“What did you think about?” Rachel follows his gaze to his shoes. “I figured you ran from all the bad stuff. That you wanted to get away from the girl you couldn’t stand. I want you to stand me.” She admits softly. “I’m sorry that I keep acting like I want you to go away.”

"A lot of things." He admitted quietly. "Your legs. The way you light up when you get into a song. Your smile. Your voice. All the times I made you cry, when I wish I hadn't. That slap at prom..." Quinn looked over at Rachel as she spoke, ignoring the urge to reach over and touch her. "It was never you. Everything I did, that I said... It was never really about you. It was me and miss-attributed hate." He took a sip of his drink with a chuckle. "Karma's a bitch, yeah?"

“I didn’t mind the slap.” Rachel whispers, a smirk playing at her lips as she reached for his hands. “I’ve always thought about how much your eyes say. Your fingers. How toned you are.” She rolls her eyes. “This isn’t karma. This is fate. You were the only one to see the bad in me. It feels good not to be alone.”

Quinn raised his eyebrow at her whisper, extending the hand not holding his drink out to Rachel, palm up. He can't help but flex his hand as she speaks. "I saw all of you, I just focused on the bad. If anything, I made them worse than they really were. Poked at what I knew would cause the most harm and kept going. I was manipulative, evil, even." His hand curled into a fist as he spoke, sighing.

“I forgive you. I need to because I know you didn’t mean it. My dads know you didn’t mean to.” Rachel smiles. “We’re okay, right?” Rachel lets go of his hand and jumps off the stage. “I meant what I said. I don’t think I can give you everything. I just want to find good feelings. Physical feelings. You’re looking for the internal good. My mind doesn’t want to be swayed.”

Quinn sighs, looking up at her a soft smile on his face. "And I stand by what I said, I won't make you do anything you don't want to. I just feel like one of us is going to regret it, doing this physical thing. And you'd be getting a lot more out of it than I would. I don't let people touch me, there. I don't let people get near there and as much as I'm sure you'd be a pillow princess, I don't really like non-mutual sex. I will do anything else, just not to that degree." He looked down at his shoes for a few minutes before meeting Rachel's eyes. "But, yes, we're okay. We can figure out something that works for you, for us, but... I know how to make people feel good physically."

“I’m not selfish.” She says s bit defensively. “But I’m not trying anything. I just want you to know where I am. I can’t let someone in the way you want to be. I don’t believe you don’t have ill intentions because I don’t deserve better then that. I really don’t. You thinking I’m selfish proves it. I haven’t changed. I’ll never change.”

Quinn sets down his drink and is immediately on his feet again. Closing the distance between himself and Rachel a resounding 'crack' echoed through the basement as Quinn slapped Rachel. Then his hands are at either sides of her face. "Shut up! Do not put words in my mouth!" The hand over where he slapped her his soft, rubbing her cheek, with his thumb. The other more firm, not wanting to let her go. "You deserve so much, Rachel. You deserve to love and be loved. I think you're stubborn and talented and brilliant. Being selfish can save your life and keep you safe. I am as selfish as they come, Rachel."

Rachel’s hand goes up to touch her face but just meets his hand. Her eyes are wide and she tries to shake him away. “You said it. You did. Saying I’d be a pillow princess.” She doesn’t want to hear him. She’s being selfish in an entirely different way than she was before. “You we’re doing what you needed to do to save yourself. Even if it meant to had to leave me.”

Quinn growls, one hand slipping from her cheek to behind her neck. "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant you'd make a good one, given I wouldn't let you return the favor." He sighs, forehead resting against Rachel's. Her words register but the last get stuck on repeat. Everything about them told him so much. Because she took it personally. She took his leaving to mean something more than it was. He has a feeling he knew why, just given everything, but he needed to hear her say it. "Why were you upset I ran away, Rachel? Tell me the truth and then tell me why you're fighting it now."

She feels hot, all over, and his questions just send her into a tailspin. “Because it meant is never get you to.” Rachel pauses, fists clenching. “I’d never get you to like me back.” She can’t help herself and closes the space between them to kiss him deeply.

Her words hit him but before he can do anything her lips are on his.  He returns the kiss, the hand on her cheek leaving to slip around her waist and the hand on her neck held her closer, tangling in her hair. As he pulls away, he swallows hard. "Well I'm here now and I do like you. I have for so long."

She whimpers at the loss and looks to her feet. “It’s different now. I’m different  now. I’m not who you like anymore.”

He uses the hand in her hair to somewhat forcefully make her look at him when she looks at her feet. "So am I. That's what time does. It changes us. So how about you stop fighting and let me decide for myself if you've changed too much."

“Fine.” She whispers, the forcefulness getting through to at least a little. “Time just didn’t change me for good. I feel that. I know that. I want you to get what you deserve.”

"I don't care. When I say I want you, I want all of you. And yes, that means the bad stuff too. Because you can't tell me I'm not part of that bad. You can't tell everything I did and said to you didn't fuck you up." He places a soft, tentative kiss to her lips. It's quick and barely there. "I can't fix the damage I caused but I'd give everything to be around to help when you do. If that's what you want."

“I just want you.” She says after a while. Choosing to ignore most of what he said. Not because his words aren’t meaningful, but she doesn’t want to admit that there is damage. That she can’t be fixed.

"But will you give me all of you? Will you give me the honor of getting to take you on dates, even if they're just foreplay for the physical? Will you give me that?" His words are quiet and he finds himself pulling away, scared of the answer she might give him. Scared of the rejection he's gotten every time from her. "Will you give me a chance to get something out of giving you the physical?"

“Okay.” She nods, slowly, unsure. But wanting to make him happy. It would make her happy. “You don’t owe me the physical. It’s okay.”

He smiles at her, surprised by her acceptance and he can't help but chuckle as he steps back into her face, a hand once again returning to the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss. His other hand found one of hers. "But if you want it, I will happily give it to you."

“I just need something. I need a new kind of release.” She admits softly. “It’s not something I can do for myself.” Rachel sighs, just looking him in the eyes.

"I think I can manage that." He smiles at her before kissing her again. He then begins to kiss his way to her ear. "Tell me, would you think about me when you were alone?"

“You were the only one I ever thought of.” Rachel whispers, blushing. “It was so easy to pretend when I had an audience. But alone- always puts.”You*

Quinn grins, nipping at her neck. "Will you put on a show just for me? Here and now?"

“What kind of show?” Her eyebrow raises, already beginning to slide the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders.

"Whatever kind of show you want to put on for me." At that point Quinn wasn't sure, but he wanted it. He wanted whatever Rachel would give him. He kissed her neck, tempted to bite down, to leave his mark. But he thought better of it. It wasn't in anyone's best interest to mark her. Even if he wanted to.

“You’re teasing.” Rachel mumbles, biting down on her lip hard. “I’d like to put on many shows for you. But there’s not enough time.” She whines

"Am I? What do you want me to do?" He breathed against her ear, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "So put one on for now and I'll invite you over later."

“I want more than you just...doing that. Only getting so close.” Rachel doesn’t know where her bravery has come from, but she starts inching the skirt of her dress up her legs to reveal more of herself. “Invite me over. We should probably head upstairs.”

Quinn chuckled at her words. His eyes catch the movement down her leg and grins. "If we go upstairs are you going to show me more of you?"

“Shall I show more of you now and take my turn in teasing you?” She lifts up her drink from the stage and finishes it. “I’ll do anything you want, Quinn.”

Quinn grins. "I'd love to see more of you, m'dear." He licks his lips as he grabs his own drink and takes a long drink of it. "Tease me if you can." He takes a seat on the edge of the stage, leaning back on his elbows. "Show me what I want."

Rachel swallows down the nervous lump forming in her throat and she slowly begins pushing her dress down further off her shoulders, revealing her lack of bra and just enough cleavage. “Okay?”

Quinn grins as he watches Rachel, licking his lips. His eyes travel down her form. "I thought you were trying to tease me. C'm'ere." He beckoned her closer with finger as he sat up.

“I was.” She whispers, listening to his words and going back to him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Quinn smiles at her, taking her hips in his hands, pulling her between his knees. "The key to teasing is all in the hips, dear. Pick a song with a good beat. Move to that beat. Make every movement count. It's not just about showing me, it's about making me wait. Do not be fast to please."

She can’t help but feel like she’d done something wrong, but Rachel finds it easy to fall into the negative. “Later.” She whispers, biting her lip again. “When we aren’t a floor away from my dads. When I can. When I can really dance for you.” Rachel quickly grabs his hands and pulls them from her hips, but easily placed them on her chest. “Later.” She repeats, to herself more than Quinn.

Quinn sighs. "Fine." He grumbles. He can understand why but it annoys him and not in the way teasing might. It annoys him in a way that makes him want to leave. To be angry. But its not on her. He knows that. He knows he keeps expecting too much. Sighing, he pulls his hands back from her lays  back on the stage with a groan, staring at the ceiling. "This was a bad idea. I'm too sober, you're too tipsy. And they're too close." He covers his face with his hands, nails digging into his hairline.

Rachel can’t help but twist his words. But she says nothing, just nodding along to his words- thankful when her dad pokes his head down announcing dinner. “We should go.” She’s quick to her feet, hoping she could get away with divvying up everyone’s plate so she could ignore her own.

"Go up without me, I need a minute alone, please." He racked his hands through his hair, trying to keep from hissing as his nails scraped his scalp. Quinn needed to get himself under control. There was old rage rising to the surface. Rage he'd buried, mixed with newer anger. Rage he could so easily take out on Rachel, like he once had, but he wasn't that person anymore. He refused to be that again.

“What can I do? What do you need?” Rachel can’t help but hold a hand out to him.  “Let me help.” She whispers. “Please.” It’s not hard to see he’s not okay.

Quinn huffs. "I need you to give me a minute alone, please." His voice was pleading. He needed her gone. He needed to be alone. Old habits died hard and he could just as easily slip down a rage fueled rabbit hole, taking everything out on Rachel but he didn't want that. He didn't want to hurt her. But he didn't want her to see what was to come. What he would choose to do to himself instead.

“But what are you going to do?” Rachel steps back, but doesn’t leave. “Let me do something Quinn. Please.”

"Leave. That's all you can do right now." His voice is steeled. He needs her to leave but he doesn't want to yell at her. "Rachel, please. You're only going to make this worse for all involved."

“Make what worse?” Rachel sits back beside him and reaches for his hand. “Let me understand, please. Let me be here.”

"I refuse to hurt you. Please. Don't force my hand on this. I don't need  to backslide that far." He pulled his hand away, crossing his arms, doing his best to not dig his nails in. They were short but he knew had to cause damage and pain with them.

“But what if I want you to?” She has no idea what she’s saying. But she knows she means the words. “I love you. You’re not backsliding. You’re so much better.”

"No one will appreciate what I'd do to you. Please, don't do this to me. I need you to leave." He groans. Why won't she leave? "If you stay I will! Please, don't name me into that person again. Don't do this to me."

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Rachel stomps her foot. She didn’t understand anything right now.

Quinn clenched his teeth. "For fucks sake, Berry! Just leave me be before I do something to you I will regret!" He's seething, nails digging into his arms. "Do not turn me back into the person who took out his anger on you because I can't handle that again! I can't handle torturing other people anymore."

“Like leave me?” She gets back up and leaves him, like he’s asked. Rachel wasn’t going to watch him leave. That is the worst he could do now, it had to be what he meant.

She stands beside her daddy at the piano and sings a song with him- how they tended to start their meals with guests and she’s quick to help dish out food, the smile staying plastered on her face.

Quinn just growled at what Rachel  said, letting out a sigh of relief when she made her way back upstairs. With a hiss, he racked his nails down his arms. It was stupid. He knew that. He knew that taking it out on himself wasn't productive either, but this was better than lashing out. It was better than hurting someone else. 

After a while, feeling far more like himself, even with too many stinging lines down both his forearms, he rolled his sleeves back down, grabbed his blazer and the empty glasses and headed back upstairs. He made a point to apologize for his tardiness,  making up some sort of excuse that didn't include clawing the shit out of his arms.

The minute Quinn comes back Rachel places his plate down and is quick to exit the dining room. She has a plate in her hands, but she has no intentions of eating it. She takes one look back before rushing up the stairs to her bedroom. She no longer wanted to do that. Act like she’s fine. Entertain the questions that we’re sure to come.

Quinn wanted to follow Rachel as she left but he was in no position to make sure someone else was okay. He was barely together himself. So, he settle in, not sure he had the stomach for actually eating but he knew how to pretend. He knew how to get away with not eating how much he should be.

The Berry men want to question the issue but instead the ignore that Rachel isn’t there- used to her absence and make small talk amongst their guests and including Quinn in when relevant.

Quinn did his best to be an attentive guest, but between the stinging in his forearms and the nagging worry about Rachel in the back of his head, he wasn't sure what kind of impression he was making. He also just didn't have much to say on most of the subjects they touched on, being too young and inexperienced to really have an opinion.

As the night started to come to a close Quinn slipped upstairs, knocking gently on Rachel's door. He wasn't sure if she'd answer but he at least wanted to try and bid her goodnight before he left.

“It’s open.” She calls out softly, curled up in her bed. She’s just assumed Quinn had left. Rachel has no intentions of going back up the stairs.

Quinn opened the door and stuck his head in. "Hey you." His voice is gentle. "Can I come in?"

“I’m not going to stop you.” She mumbles, rolling over so she isn’t facing him.

He steps into the room, closing the door softly behind him. Part of him wanted to move over to the bed but chose to keep his distance. "I just wanted to say good night." He bit his lip, looking down at the ground. "And I wanted to say I'm sorry about how I acted in the basement, especially before dinner." Quinn absentmindedly rubs his arms, biting back a hiss as the stinging starts up again.

“Just don’t. Just go. It’s what you need, you said so yourself. You don’t need to sugar coat it. We all know you didn’t before.” Her words are bitter.

"What?" He moved over to the bed, sitting on the edge. "I said nothing about needing to leave, Rachel. And I'm not sugar coating anything."

“You said you didn’t want to hurt me. The worst thing you did was leave me. That’s the only thing that would hurt me.” She still doesn’t face him.

"I meant physically. Had you'd stayed down there with me, I can't guarantee I wouldn't have left you bruised. I couldn't do that. I couldn't risk it." He looks down at his feet. "I wouldn't forgive myself if I did that. If I'd taken out what I was feeling on you."

“Can’t you just.” Her brows furrow. “I liked when you slapped me.” Rachel says after a few moments. Unsure what else she could say in the moment.

"The state I was in, I wouldn't have just slapped you, Rachel. I'd have kept going, I probably would have thrown punches. I couldn't do that. Not and feel okay. That's not me anymore. Lashing out at other people." He leans forward, forearms on his thighs, hissing at the increase in pain.

“I want you to hurt me. And stop hurting yourself.” She doesn’t even know the extent of it. “I’d let you. Just not punching and not my nose.”

"No. I promised myself, no matter what happened, I wouldn't do that to someone else, not how I had been. But especially not to you." He wasn't going to do that to her, or anyone, ever again. Even if it meant hurting himself instead.

“You can’t give me what I need.” Rachel says after a while of silence.

Quinn scoffed. "There's a difference between lashing out on someone and hurting them and getting rough with them on purpose. One is abuse, the other is consensual pain. You want the latter. What would have happened in that basement, would have been the former."

“Why did you come up here?” She turns so that she can face him. “I don’t need the difference, you know.”

"Like I said, I wanted to wish you goodnight and apologize. I guess I've done that, so I guess I can go." He stood, looking over at her for a few moments before sighing and making his way back over to the door. "Getting someone else to cause you pain is no different than causing it to yourself. Just so you know."

“I don’t hurt myself.” Rachel says with a raise of her voice. She climbs out her bed- nearly falling at her quickness but she’s quick to get between him and the door. “Don’t go.”

"But you want me to do it. And believe me, I know what I'm talking about." He sighs as she comes between him and the door. "Why not?"

“Then do it. Please.” Rachel bites down on her lip, hard. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Quinn sighs, closing his eyes briefly. "Why? So I'm punishing us both tonight?" He leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'm just going home. That's all. I'll still just be a text and a quick ride away,"

“Yes.” Rachel breathes, not taking the weight of his words. She turns her head and kisses him, hard and bruising. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Quinn sighs into the kiss before biting her lip, pulling it back before letting go. He forces her up against the door. "Why do you need punishing, hmm?" He'd seen the plate, knowing well enough it hadn't been touched and he wondered if she'd tell him. If she'd admit to it or if there was something else.

Her eyes widen as she looks at him, shaking her head. “I just. I like it. I-I want it.” Rachel stumbles over her words. “Please.” She pleads.

Quinn takes a deep breath, rolling his neck for a few moments. "Safe word. Now."

“I don’t want to safe word.” Rachel whispers. “I don’t. I don’t want to be safe.”

"If you want this, you will give me a safe word or I'm walking out. Because a safe word isn't just for you." He moved his hand to the doorknob.

“Red.” She breathes. “Don’t leave me!” Rachel says desperately.

At her answer he smirked, pulling his hand away from the doorknob. "Now I don't have to." He leaned in and bit her neck, hard. "You're going to dance for me. Be naughty for me, and I'll punish you for it. Is that what you want?"

Rachel whimpers, nodding her head. “Yes. It’s what I want. I need it.” She takes a shaky breath. “Need you.”

"Then you'll dance for me. Do you need me to show you how?" He growls out, raking his teeth down her throat before pulling away.

Rachel just shakes her head, the minute he lets her go she moves to turn on some music, hips swaying to the beat. “Better?”

Quinn chuckles, moving over to the bed and taking a seat. His eyes move up and down her form. "Much."

She can’t help but beam. She’d rid herself of the dress the moment she’d entered her room and traded it in for silk pajamas. The shorts show off her long legs and as she continues to move her hips she begins to undo the buttons of the top- slow.

His eyes were mostly on her legs, those legs he'd watched for so long and now they moved just for him. When she started to undo the buttons on her pajama top he found his eyes rising to watch, licking his lips at how she moved. "You were holding back, earlier. How rude of you." He growled out.

“Hmmmph, I needed you to show me.” Once she has the top completely open, Rachel watches him, eager for his response as she slides it off. She hooks a thumb on each side of her shorts and turns so that her backside is facing him. Her hips continue to circle and roll as she begins to slide them down.

Quinn's eyebrow raised at her words, but the other quickly joined as she finished opening the shirt, swallowing hard. "Such a naughty girl for me." He bites his bottom lip, groaning slightly as she turns her back on him. There's the spark of something he hadn't truly felt in so long and he moans.

“I’ve always been naughty for you.” Rachel murmurs as she ride herself of the shorts, leaving her in black lace panties. Part of her wants to cover herself but the other part knows she deserves to be ridiculed this way. She easily turns back to face him, biting her lip seductively.

Quinn's jaw drops open and he inhales sharply. God she was gorgeous and she was all his. This was just for him, no one else. Some part of him is glad he's not had bottom surgery because there was no doubt in his mind he'd be sporting a raging hard on. "Look at you, so exposed for me. " He stands up as he speaks moving over to Rachel, immediately reaching around to slap her on the ass, a grin spreading across his face.

Rachel can’t help but shiver at his words, never having felt so desired before. Not with Finn or Jesse or the boys she’d met in school. “That’s not enough.” She whispers

He chuckles at her words, immediately repeating the action a few times in rapid succession, aiming to hit her harder than he had.  "Such a naughty girl aren't you? Wanting me to do this to you here." He growls out, his free hand tangling in her hair and pulling it, hard, before kissing her, biting her lip.

She yelps as he pulls her hair, and is happy for the kiss. Relieved even. “Anywhere.” She whines at him. “Anywhere you want.”

He grins into the kiss before biting his way down her neck. "You like your pain, hmm? How do you do it to yourself?" He's genuinely curious if she does, and if so, how. It's so interesting how reactive she is to it all. Pulling her hair again, the hand on her ass reaching down to his nails up her thigh, knowing just how to drag his nails to cause pain.

“Yes.” Rachel purrs our, liking the way he focused on her neck. “I could show you.” She can’t help but back up into his hands, always wanting more.

Quinn grins. Some part of him is highly aware that they are in her bedroom, in her fathers' house, and he was only supposed to be wishing her goodnight. The reality that they could get caught doing this almost made it better.  He bites down on her pulse point, working to leave his mark before pulling away.  "Show me."

She cries out, but is quick to put her hand over mouth to stop herself from being too loud.

Rachel turns the music up and leads him to the bathroom inside her room. “Sit.” She motions for the edge of the tub.

Quinn chuckles and follows her into the bathroom. Taking a seat on the edge of the tub, he watches Rachel, curious to see just what he's about to witness.

She bends down, still covered in her under clothes, black and lace, and she opens up the bottom drawer attached to the sink. She pulls out a few items and places them on the counter. A pink flogger, a small purple paddle with a gold star painted on it, and nipple clamps.  "Pick one."

Quinn watches her move, licking his lips. As the choices are presented to him he grins, impressed by the selection. Standing, he slides one of his sleeves up, making sure not to roll it up too far. He then picks up the flogger and tests it on his exposed wrist before rolling his sleeve back down. Setting the flogger down, he picks up the paddle, smacking it few times against the heel of his palm. Setting it back down he ran his fingers over the nipple clamps, thinking. The flogger could be used on multiple parts of the body far easier than the paddle. The nipple clamps, well, the had one purpose and one purpose only.

In an executive decision, he picked up the flogger and the nipple clamps. Slipping the former into his pocket he held out the nipple clamps to Rachel.

Rachel just watches him, eager to seethe choice he will make. She’s pressing her thighs together as he tests them all out and the slightest sound leaves her as the coolness of the clamps on her palm.

Rachel undoes her bra, revealing little bruises along her breasts but she doesn’t wait for a reaction and instead she applies the clamps on each nipple.

“Give me the flogger.” She begs

Quinn grins as he watches Rachel, an eyebrow quirked at the little bruises. A chuckle escapes his lips when she begs. "Oh no, dear, I'll be using that." He grinned, picking up the paddle and handing it over instead. Quinn honestly wanted to see how Rachel managed it. He also just didn't want to properly choose and he can't imagine Rachel will object. He is vaguely aware of an ache between his legs, something he hadn't particularly felt, much less indulged in ages. Hopefully he could make it through this and get home without it getting too bad, or maybe he'd just get lucky and a boner killer will come along between now and then.

Rachel’s face falls when he denied her, but she takes the paddle eagerly and slowly presses it against the chain of the clamps, for the slight pulling sensation.

But then she’s quick to bend herself over the counter, sticking her butt out. And though it’s nowhere near as good as someone else bring in control of the instrument she begins to let it crack down on her back side without warning.

Quinn can't help the moan that escapes his lips, silently cursing his decision to pack because all it did was make it worse. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, swallowing hard.

“How many does a naughty girl deserve?” Rachel looks over her shoulder at him, noticing his discomfort and unsure how to approach it.

Quinn thinks for a moment. "Ten is a good number for a naughty girl." He growls out as he moves over to her, running his hand down her back, nails digging in, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Rachel whimpers at the feel of his nails. When his hands pull away she gives herself ten cracks with the paddle on each cheek, leaving herself a whimpering mess as she drops the paddle to the floor.

Quinn moans as he watches Rachel, oddly surprised at how much it turns him on. As she finishes and drops the paddle he steps up behind her, leaning over her, keeping her against the counter. "Such a naughty girl." He growls against her ear as one of his hands reaches around to run a finger along the front of Rachel's panties. "You imagine it's me doing it, don't you? That it's me causing you pain. Because that's what you like. You like it when I hurt you, when I punish you." It's almost like a certain switch has flipped and where Quinn would normally be unable to say those words, they simply come easy. His finger teases against her panties as his other hand tugs periodically on the chains of the nipple clamps.  "Do you want more, my naughty girl?" He asks as he bites her neck.

Despite Rachel being in a constant state of turned on, she hadn’t thought this would turn sexual. Despite the being half naked part. But then he begins touching her and the growl she hears escape him sounds more primal than she’d ever thought it did before. “It’s always been you.” She admits for what has felt like the millionth time. “I want more, daddy.” She whimpers

Quinn loves the power that he seems to have being with Rachel like this. The way she reacts to him. He likes hearing her admit it. That she thinks of him. It shouldn't turn him on, but it does. And then something else he never expected happens and he moans into her neck. "Daddy's naughty girl wants more, does she?" He breathes out, still in minor shock that he likes it. Maybe it was the kick it seemed to give his dysphoria, the validation wrapped up in something so obscene. What he knew was that it was really hot and he was going to need a cold shower and maybe dildo he kept for when someone else just didn't cut it, when he got home.

"Tell daddy what you want from him."

She’s getting a taste of her own medicine, having him ask all the questions. Leaving her in a state of anticipation and wondering what it is she really wants from him.

Her slip of mouth has her tensing but hearing him say it back to her as her moaning for him. “I want you to hurt me, daddy. Make me earn my rewards.”

He relishes her moan and as he hears her speak, he pulls his hand away from where it'd been teasing her. Standing up straighter, he grabs both her wrists in one hand and pulls her up and to him, staring at her through the bathroom mirror from over her shoulder. "Such a beautiful girl. Just wait until you're so clearly mine." He drives his point home by biting her shoulder. "I'm going to let you go and you're going to go get on the bed and present yourself for me. If you have a scarf to keep yourself quiet, get it. If you don't, well, you better hope you don't get me caught." And like that, he lets her go.

She didn’t think she’d miss his hand but she cries out at the loss but it’s quickly silenced by the slightest yelp as he pulls her by her hands.

Rachel wants to yell at him for complimenting her but it would be all too telling.

So she just nods her head and makes her way to her bed, she grabs a scarf for good measure but instead of putting it in her mouth as a gag she uses her panties instead- all sprawled out and open for him.

Quinn takes a few moments once Rachel leaves the bathroom to collect himself. He feels like he's burning up and he splashes water on his face to no real avail. Drying off his face, he adjusts his packer, biting back the groan as it rubs into him. God, he hasn't been this turned on in ages and there's no current relief in sight.

When he no longer hears noise from the bedroom he leaves the bathroom, gasping at the sight before him. He pulled the flogger from his pocket, swirling it in his hand as he walks over. For a few moments he just looked at her, flogger still spinning in his hand. Then, in a quick motion, he brings it down across her upper thighs. First one way and the the other. "You've been such a naughty girl."

Rachel sits up when he spots him exiting the bathroom. Part of her wants to gasp, but instead she stays quiet just following him as he gets closer, teases her with the swing of the flogger and flick of his wrist. When it finally hits her skin her eyes close, feeling slight relief, but she realized she doesn’t want to stop how into this he is and her eyes open again.

Quinn watches Rachel react, smirking at the way she looks. He's not entirely sure what he's doing but he knows he likes it. He brings it down directly between her legs, just to see. Marveling slightly at the way the tips come away wet. Lord, he'd never imagine this would be something he was into. He liked being on the receiving end of a rough night, but there was something intoxicating about being the one dishing it out. An old power he never imagined he'd feel again, much less be okay feeling again.

Her hips arch off the bed when the pink leather hits her where it counts the most. There’s a muffled whimper that you could hear if waiting for it, but the panties closed between her teeth really do their job in keeping her quiet. Her legs press together and her eyes are just wide as she stares at him. This very scenario having run through her head for so many years.

A Cheshire grin spreads across Quinn's face at the way she reacts, the muffled whimper. It's a shot directly to his core. As her legs press together he gets an idea, grabbing the nearby scarf and using it to tie one ankle to the bed post. However, he isn't sure what else to use for the other and before he can think twice about it the flogger is between his teeth and he's pulling his shirt off. He just has to ignore the angry lines on his forearms as he finishes tying Rachel down.

Smirking behind the flogger he eyed his handiwork. And then he's back at it, striking between her legs in rapid succession.

Rachel doesn't even resist him as her ankle gets tied. Her eyes just widen and darken and she wants to say so many things, but stops herself. She just watches him rid himself of his shirt and then both ankles are held back. He's really a piece of art, all smooth skin, obvious importance in his body, but then there is the marks. Rachel is pulled out of her thoughts though as he is back striking her and she's crying against the fabric of her panties- unsure how to communicate for more.

Quinn can't get enough of the way Rachel looks at him, the sounds she's making. With a few more strikes between her legs he moves to kneel on the bed, positioning himself between her legs. He strikes her abdomen, watching the way wet streaks were left in the leather's wake. His other hand begins to rake repeatedly down her thigh.

A thought occurred to him and he changes his grip on the flogger, he struck his own palm a few times with it, grinning slightly before testing it again on his wrist. Satisfied that it's what he wants, he strikes Rachel's abdomen with the handle end, just to see how she reacts.

She doesn't know what to expect when he moves positions, but she watches, eager for it. There is no fear, no worry, she just feels ready for him. Rachel's nose crinkles as he hits himself instead of her- grabbing for the fabric to take from her mouth right as Quinn hits her with the other end. There's tears stinging behind her eyes but she just cups her mouth in hopes to muffle the loud cry that leaves her. She's never been so thankful for music before.

Quinn raises an eyebrow at the way Rachel had reacted just before he'd struck her. "Daddy isn't going to something to his little girl that he isn't sure he'd like. He has to make sure he's punishing her right." He explains as he strikes her again on the other side of her abdomen. Quinn then flips it over and strikes her between the breasts.

Rachel just nods slowly. She believes she understands his intentions- that he’s just giving her what she so badly wanted and making her wait for the things she didn’t believe she could@be patient for. Her chest heaves at the strike and her hands reach out for him, nails digging into his lower arms. “Please.”

Quinn hisses at the nails in his lower arm, demeanor faltering at the pain registered in his brain. He pulled his arms away, having to catch his breath to sink back into character. "Please, what?" His tone isn't quite back to where it had been before, still working to block the pain out of his mind.

“I didn’t mean to...” she breathes out, trying to sit herself up without use of her legs.” His voice had changed, the hiss didn’t seem to be one of pleasure. “I just need more. Everything. Anything. I don’t know. Whatever you can give me. I can give you.” She’s not making the most sense but she just felt tired.

Quinn has to stand up from the bed when she starts talking. Between her not entirely making sense and the pain in his arms, he can't focus. Running his fingers through his hair he tries to refocus. Anger is bubbling back up and something snaps. He gets back on the bed, letting the rage take over, going at Rachel with the flogger hard and fast. "You and those skirts, teasing me day in and day out. Acting like nothing effected you. You were the real little miss high and mighty, weren't you? You and your gold stars. Doing anything and everything you could to be special. But you never saw it. You never saw the way I watch you walk away. The way my eyes would follow you as you stormed off. Just pissing me off more. Running through my head for years. And still you didn't know how special to me you were." He isn't sure when he started talking but it'd tumbled out of his mouth in the same manner he'd used the flogger against Rachel and as he stopped, it fell out of his hand.  "Is that enough for you?"

Rachel’s not there, the words that leave him are spinning through her mind but she’s not present anymore. Instead she’s listening to the flogger hit her skin. She’s focusing on the ache. But at his question Rachel really begins to cry, legs kicking to get out of the restraints. “Yes daddy.”

That word does it and he's leaning in to kiss her. "Has daddy's girl learned her lesson?" He asks against her lips. "Is she ready for that release she was wanting?"

“No.” Rachel shakes her head. “No, just, just undo my ankles and hold me. Please.” She begs, holding out for him.

"Okay." He kisses her gently again and then straightens back up, actually moving to undo the nipple clamps first. "Do you have cream for those?" He asks as he moves off the bed to properly untie her ankles, making sure to inspect each one for marks and give them a gentle rub before setting them back on the bed. He makes a point to clear off the bed and kicking out of his shoes, realizing he hadn't earlier, before settling onto the bed, arms out for Rachel to make herself comfortable.

Rachel kisses back just slightly, needing to be able to move. Needing to get her hands on him. She sniffles at the feel of the clamps coming off and shakes her head at his question.

He’s so gentle with her and when she’s finally free Rachel lunges for his arms, hiding her face in his side. “Your arms.” She whimpers

"Get some, please. Anything that works for runner's nipple will work. I need you to have some by the next time the clamps are used. No excuses." He explains, voice somewhere finishing it's transition back to normal.

When she lunges into his arms, he wraps her tight, burying his face in her hair. He hears her speak and he sighs. "They're okay, baby. They just look worse than they are."

His voice is so serious and she can’t help but nod quickly. “Okay. I promise.” And she’s so relieved when he accepts her into his arms. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry.”

Quinn kisses the top of her head. "Shh, this isn't your fault. I was too in my own head, got angry when I shouldn't have. And old habits die hard, but at least these won't scar." His voice is quiet as he explains, hands gently rubbing Rachel's back. Quinn's not entirely sure why he's telling her so much, except that he feels like he needs to. "I'm glad you left me alone, because this, now, wouldn't have happened. And I would have regretted anything I did to you. I do not regret this."

Rachel kisses his side, trying to be reassuring but not leave her spot nuzzled into him. “I don’t regret this either.” She whispers. “Just don’t stop holding me, please.”

Quinn giggles a little at the kiss to his side. "M'sensative." He mumbles into her hair, still rubbing her back. "Good, I'm glad. Even if I will never be able to look at your father in the face again." He laughs a little bit, but just holds her closer. "I won't let go until you want me to, I promise."

“They’re not scary. They like you.” She mumbles, bringing a hand to his back right as her teeth start clattering. “It’s cold.” Rachel snuggles into him closer. “Please don’t.”

"I'm not afraid of them, dear. I just can't face the man you also call daddy." He pressed a kiss to her head and did his best to shuffle the covers down and then pull them up over them. "I won't, baby."

“I’m sorry.” Rachel flushes, letting her eyes closed. “Okay, daddy. I believe you.”

"Don't be sorry, I like it." He pressed another kiss to Rachel's head, humming quietly. "Good." He liked being able to just hold her, to be close to her like this.

It didn’t take long for Rachel to fall asleep against his side, hand still on his back, and still shivering slightly.

Quinn just held her close, humming quietly into her hair. He wishes he'd got her to get dressed with how she's shivering. He could remember the days of not eating and being more effected by the cold. But there wasn't more he could, he just pulled the covers tighter around them, hoping he could trap the heat around her and get the shivering to stop. Some part of him was aware that at one point in time Rachel's dads always wished her goodnight and that, should they still do so, they'd find him. It wasn't an embarrassing thing, except that their daughter was naked in his arms, his arms that were scratched to hell. But he wasn't going to leave her, even in her sleep. He'd made a promise and he wasn't about to break it. So, he just made himself comfortable and would cross that bridge if/when he came to it.

When Rachel’s eyes flutter open, she feels confused at first. Her lack of clothes, the body she’s pressed against. But she relaxes as the memories flood her mind. She kisses against his side again, in the shape of a heart and she can’t help but giggle at herself.

Quinn wakes up squirming, the feeling of something repeatedly against his side. Then he hears a giggle, registers the body still in his arms and he smiles. "G'morning." He mutters into Rachel's hair. "Sleep well?"

“I don’t remember falling asleep.” She grins, “Did you sleep well?” She cups his face with her palm. “You stayed.”

"You were out pretty fast after." He kisses her forehead. "I did, yeah. One of your dads makes a killer cup of tea." He smiled, nodding. "Of course. I made a promise to not let go til you told me to. I wasn't about to break it." He leaned in and kissed her. "You feeling okay? You were really cold before you fell asleep."

“You got my tea?” Rachel pouts, before it registers. “Are they mad? Are you okay?” She hugs him closer, feeling really grateful. “I’m fine, daddy.” And she raises her eyebrows up with another giggle.

Quinn chuckles. "Yes, yes I did." He smiles. "No, they're not. And yes, I'm fine. Though, they seemed a little worried about my forearms, but I assured them I was fine and thanked them for the tea and not forcing me to leave." He tightens his grip on her, just a little more. A smirk crosses his face. "Good." And then he sighed. "When was the last time you ate something and kept it down? And please, be honest with me."

“I’m worried about your forearms.” Rachel whispers, feeling herself pull away at his question. Rachel sits up, a bit achy, and covers her chest with the sheet. “Why are you asking me that?”

"They're fine." He sits up next to her, exposing his forearms to her. The scratches had faded, for the most part. A few were still raised but no longer red. He looks over at her with a sigh. "Because I care about you and I'm worried you haven't been eating." Quinn looks down at his hands. "Because I've been there and I know the signs."

"I care and worry about you too. You hurt yourself. On purpose. That's not safe behavior." As if she wasn't doing the same sort of things. "I ate dinner last night."

"Not often. It's rare these days. I'm getting better with it." He traced along one of the raised marks. "It's part of why I don't really like letting people see me below the waist. My thighs are just... covered. All healed but still." Quinn sighs, looking at Rachel, eyebrow raised. "I said don't lie to me, Rachel. Now, tell me the truth. When did you eat last?"

"I believe you." Rachel nods again. "You can trust me." And she means that, despite him catching her in her lie. "I don't want to talk about this." Rachel says seriously. "Okay?"

Quinn is quiet for a bit, looking down at his hands. "I know." He smiles slightly but then it falls. "I know you don't, but I need you to. I need to know because if you want it to happen again, I need to know you're not going to pass out on me. And I would love to do it again, but I need you healthy, baby."

"You don't need to know anything." Rachel is quick to climb out of the bed, standing too fast. She fumbles just slightly but catches herself. "Should I even bother looking in the mirror to see if I'm marked up?"

Quinn sighs as Rachel stands up, almost reaching for her when she fumbles but stopping. "Do you want to see my handiwork or?" He's moving from the bed and grabbing his shirt and belt from where he'd left them the night before, having taken off his belt while laying in bed after she'd fallen asleep. Putting both on, he sighed. "Should I just go? I feel as if I've overstayed my welcome."

Rachel just turns her back to him, going to the closet to find something else to change into. Something comfortable, something that would hide her. On her way she kicks the untouched food at the wall. "If that's how you feel, then by all means. I won't make you stay."

Quinn sighed, looking down at the plate she kicked. "I know I overstepped, Rachel, but I am worried about you. The way you got last night, it honestly kinda scared me."

"What are you saying? I didn't try and scare you. I was just...I just. That's what I wanted."

"No, not about that. That didn't scare me. You stopped making sense, around the time you scratched me. Right there before the end. And then after, how cold you got. You didn't stop shivering for ages. I didn't sleep until after you'd stopped." He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. "It scares me because I've been there."

"Please go." She whispers. "I just need to be alone right now. I'm sorry." Rachel feels her lips start to quiver and she just sinks herself onto the ground unable to stop the crying, "Please go."

Quinn stood from the bed but didn't leave, instead he sunk to the ground next to her. "No. I'm not going to leave you crying on your floor. Your fathers would never forgive me, but more importantly, neither would I." He doesn't touch her, but he offers his hands to her. "If you want, I will go sit on the other side of the room, or in the bathroom, but I will not leave you."

"I just want you to stop telling me what to do. " But she takes his hand. "Everyone keeps telling me what to do and I just want it to stop. I can't control anything. Nothing is good but you and I can't just put that on you. It's not your job." She easily moves so that her head is in his lap.

He squeezes her hand gently when she takes it, listening to her speak. When she puts her head in his lap, he starts to run his free hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, baby. I just wanted to look out for you. And I know it's not my job, but I care and I want to be here for you." He leans down and places a kiss on her head. "I want to take care of you, however you'll let me."

“I know. I know. I’m sorry I do appreciate that. But I’m a big girl and I can make my own decisions.” Rachel sniffles, hands moving to swipe at her eyes. “I like how you cared for me last night, daddy.”

"Yes, but you're exhibiting unsafe behavior and while I have very little room to talk, as I exhibit both similar and other unsafe behavior, I do have some. And I just want to be here to help, however I can." He smiles at her, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. "Yeah? Does my little girl want that to happen again?"

“But I’m not asking for help. The same way that you’re not.” Rachel looks up at him, lip beginning to quiver again. “I do, yes. Please.” There’s a slight whine behind her voice. “I’ve never felt like that in my life. It was so powerful and it was all because of you, daddy.”

"I'm in therapy, I asked for my help. Or, more accurately, it was thrust upon me when I was getting medical clearance to start my transition." He corrected. "I never imagined I'd like that, if you can believe it. I'm usually on the receiving end of it." He chuckles a bit. "There's a certain kind of validation as a trans man, being called daddy. And I really liked watching the way you reacted to everything I did." He smiled at her.

“I think there’s our difference. I’m not asking for help.” Should she be? Could she even handle it? On her worst days the smell of food makes her nauseous and on the best she could eat alone in her room and gives up when she can’t throw up on the first try.

“You made me feel good. And you are daddy. Mine.”

"When I say I asked, I was given conditions. If I wanted to transition, I had to be at a healthy weight or I wouldn't be allowed to start. If I wanted it, I had to get help and I decided I wanted it. Maybe daddy could give you that incentive? If you wanted it, of course." Quinn wasn't about to stop what he and Rachel had stumbled into, but he could give her more incentive to get better, extra things to make getting better worth it. "Daddy is glad he could help his little girl." He kisses her again. "I like sitting with you like this."

“What does that mean?” Rachel stands so she can actually get dressed now that she a bit calmer. She slips on a pair of cotton panties with a little bow and a T-shirt that she drowns in. “Like, you don’t give me what I want unless I give you what you want?” She easily comes back to him and touched slightly at his knees. “I’d like it better, sitting on your lap.”

He watches her get dressed, smiling gently as he eyes her. "No. I'd give you more. I'd buy better toys. New things for us to use." He explains, adjusting to sit with his back against the edge of the bed as she returns to him. Quinn smiles, patting his lap. "Then sit, baby girl."

She easily sits, cautious at first of placing all her weight. “ But you need to save your money, daddy. For your surgery and so you can stop.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Stop doing dangerous jobs.” She sighs softly. “I like rewards.” Rachel adds as an afterthought

Quinn takes her weight easy, holding her close. "But I want my baby girl to get better too." He kisses the side of her head. "And if that means daddy has to put off his surgery to take care of his baby girl, he will." Quinn smiles at her. "Besides, I do have a new job and I might be able to talk to my boss about insurance or something that could help fund said surgery. So I can put more money towards rewarding my baby girl."

Rachel’s head hurts, whether it’s the overload of everything or the gnawing feeling that she needs to eat, she is not sure. “What would I have to do to be a good girl for daddy?”

Quinn smiles, nuzzling her hair a little. "For now, I need to know how long you've gone without eating. Then, I just want you to try and eat something of substance every other day. Starting today. Okay? It doesn't have to be a lot, but it has to be something. I'm not going to tell you what, when, nor how much, I just want you to eat. If you want to come over to my place on those days and let me cook for you, and then take care of you after, we can do that. I just want to see you try, for right now. Until you're a little more comfortable. Okay? You think you can do that? You think you can try for daddy?"

Rachel takes a breath, shaky, filled with nerves. "I think I ate without..." It's Thursday now and she had dinner with Finn's mom on Sunday and she'd not been able to get away to throw it up and thinking about it had exhausted her to the point she'd gone straight to bed. "Sunday." She hides her face in his chest. "I'll try for daddy." Rachel whispers after a long while sitting in silence. "As long as you take care of me."

"Oh, baby." He holds her close, kissing the top of her head, rubbing her back a little. "I will always take care of you, I promise." Quinn kissed her head again. "You ready to go get some breakfast? Or do you want to sit here with me a little longer?"

"I want to take care of you too." Rachel whispers, nodding her head. "We can go get breakfast. I won't go if we wait."

"I know you do, baby." He smiles at her and nods as she speaks. "Okay, let's go get some."

Rachel puts on a pair of leggings and throws her hair up. "Let's go, daddy."

[lynellecameron-blog]

Like a Ball Thrown Up, Waiting to Fall

It took me about two weeks to fully realize and admit that what had happened to me was sexual assault. I say sexual assault because at that moment I still hadn’t accepted it as rape. I knew it was wrong. I knew I had been taken advantage of. I knew something I had vocally and physically resisted had been forced on me. I could say those things but I couldn’t say rape. I don’t remember much emotion prior to that day. I remember feeling sad and blaming myself. If you’re a decent human, you’re probably wondering how I could blame myself? I was and still am in a very vulnerable place. I have a heavy past with a lot of baggage. I have major depressive disorder and anxiety NOS. I also have a slight variation of PTSD. It wasn’t until this year that I was diagnosed. It wasn’t until this year that I did anything about my conditions. What led to that is a story for another time. The point here is that I did decide to do something about them. I couldn’t have been more upfront with this person about the state I was in. I rejected him. He pursed it. It all progressed pretty quickly. That’s it though your whole life is fine one moment and the next things will never be the same. A couple of days before “it” happened we had made plans to watch a movie at his house. He kept making advances and I kept saying no. At one point I got so blunt I said I’m not sleeping with you, stop trying. It went on and on. I’d never felt such pressure in a physical, intimate situation in all my years. It got to a point where he was guiding me and my body into the places he wanted. I’d adjust, move and it’d start all over. He kept saying over and over what’d you expect. Eventually that night I had my moment where I snapped out of it. I just got up and walked out. Went home. I was done and that was that. I felt sick though and dirty. I felt dirty. I remember scrubbing my hands over and over, just trying to wash the night off. I tell you about this night because it was the first sign. It was the red flag screaming danger. It’s the first night in my life I had ever felt so pressured and uncomfortable sexually. By the end of the next day though somehow I thought I was overreacting and I’d be upset I pushed away a “good guy” or so I thought. The following day I went out with some girls from work and we had talked about him picking me up after he got off. He picked me up that night somewhere around 2am. I was intoxicated. He was sober. I had a pretty decent amount of alcohol and that was noticeable. Not so much though that I was incoherent to remember the next events. In my head I knew we’d probably have sex that night which the unhealthy part of me was okay with. We started to have vaginal, missionary sex. At this point I was okay with everything. Then I felt pressure elsewhere and I readjusted myself so he continued vaginal intercourse for a moment. Then I felt the pressure again so I readjusted myself again and said no. He mocked my no as though he was questioning it. I then verbally told him no for what was the second time. He stopped and continued normally for a moment. Shortly after, I felt him slam into me elsewhere. The pain was hard and sudden. I cried out in pain and moved on to my side in the fetal position, crying. He looked down on me with this look of almost disgust and said “What?”. As soon as I released myself from the fetal position he went back to vaginal intercourse as if nothing had happened. When he was finished I went to the bathroom where I noticed some blood. I hadn’t processed anything at this point. I showered and dressed for bed. I was groggy from the alcohol and tired from the day. I fell sleep facing away from him. I’m not sure how long after he rolled my body over and started kissing me. I said “Again?” he asked me if I wanted to I didn’t say anything out loud but I shook my head. He continued anyway and this time I just laid there. I didn’t participate at all. I was so tired it felt like my body was there and my mind wasn’t. During my shift at work the next night I had horrible, sharp pelvic pains. I couldn’t stand up anymore by the end of my shift. I left work early and my dad took me to the ER. I didn’t tell them what happened and nothing indicated a reason for the pain. The doctors chalked it up to my prior health conditions and they discharged me with some pain meds. The next few shifts at work were tense because at this time we were coworkers. I ignored him as much as I could. After being abrasive he started to try to make conversation and made comments about why I wasn’t talking to him. I told him we were coworkers and that’s that. He began to use every chance he had to talk to me. Even taking my red bull from my hand trying to drink it and offering me chocolate he had bit off of. Most of the time he’d wait till I was alone to start a conversation with me. Work had become very uncomfortable. It wasn’t until almost a week later on a car ride with my mom that I told anyone the details of the night. After saying it out loud and her reaction I realized what really happened. I hadn’t taken it in. I blocked it out. My following shifts I began to have severe anxiety. Part of the shift he’d be rude and hostile the other part he’d try to be my friend. The next five shifts are a blur as well as the days in between. Work was the hard part though. I used those pain meds not for their intended purpose but for the mental pain to get myself through. I was essentially drugging myself through the days and to sleep at night. I felt anxious and uncomfortable all day. I felt sick, so sick. That’s the memory that stands out just feeling sick to my core. I was constantly on the brink of panic. I’d feel my limbs to begin to go numb from the start of a panic attack before I even realized it was coming. I would put myself in the bathroom multiple times. I remember crying on the phone with my mom trying to find a way to go back out and do my job. He was impossible to avoid. So many people were asking me if I was okay and saying I didn’t seem like myself. I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it, I was doing my best. I had to watch coworkers and friends of mine interact with him. I had to listen to them praise him and what a good guy he was. I couldn’t blame them. They didn’t know. It still was a knife to my stomach. I gave away a couple of shifts and close to the two-week mark I knew I couldn’t handle one more day. After trying to get in with my primary care doctor I went to the ER were they diagnosed me with panic attacks, anxiety and sexual assault. I could barely explain the story. All the reactions from the nurses and doctors made it set in more. They were all telling me how wrong it was and strongly urging me to report it. I still couldn’t grasp and process it all. During this time I was against reporting it. I worked with him and I knew more often than not these things don’t go very far. I didn’t want people at work to know. I didn’t want to have to defend my truth. I didn’t want to make things harder for myself emotionally.I knew there wasn’t much physical evidence since I never had an official exam. I still felt at blame for putting myself in that situation and for drinking. I felt guilty and confused as to why I didn’t get up and leave. I told my therapist everything that happened the next time, the truth. We discussed the language to use. By definition I knew it was rape. I had given the speech to plenty of girls. I had spoken up for our rights. I even remember being at a leadership conference in the sixth grade when I first learned about all the different ways rape can occur. I knew that because I consented to part of the night didn’t mean I gave him free range over my body but still I couldn’t use that word. I was conscious, I didn’t fight him off and I had consented to part of it so rape just didn’t seem right. We discussed why it was wrong and why I blamed myself. I told her I was leaning towards not reporting. We weighed some of the pros and cons. She prepared me for the fact that no matter which route I took people would blame me. People would say awful, hurtful things to me as they do all the other victims. That no matter what some people won’t believe me. She told me I must remember that their words did not a change a thing and what he did was wrong. I hit a breaking point a few days later. I was sitting in the bathroom riding out another panic attack it was that moment I thought, “This is it. This is going to be the thing that breaks me. I can’t do this. This is the thing I cannot do”. I couldn’t work like that anymore and my life was forever changed. It wasn’t fair that his could go on as if nothing happened. I knew I wasn’t the only girl and if I didn’t do anything I probably wouldn’t be the last. I didn’t want to be the reason he thought he really could get away with it. I knew then I had to report it. I had an appointment with my primary care doctor he told me almost the same things the prior doctors had. Ironically enough he serves on a board for UNLV which investigates sexual assault cases. He gave me some guidance if I chose to report. The biggest thing was to write down everything I could remember in the most specific detail from the assault until current day. Everything had been a blur so this was a difficult task. The night before I was going report I texted him and asked if even knew what he did was wrong. At first he would completely deny the incident. He swore he never did that and never would. He tried to tell me I begged to go to his house that night and I knew what was going to happen. He went as far as to tell me that he drove me to my complex and I told him I couldn’t get in my gate. I wouldn’t go in and begged him to take me to his home. The thing is I had only ever partially blacked out one time in my life and I didn’t remember him driving me to my complex. I had brought my gate clicker with me since my friend had picked me up to go out. I knew I would never say that since I had the clicker. I have no recollection of this. I realized he was lying. I didn’t understand why, I still don’t. The only conclusion I could draw was that he was trying to convince me I was too far gone to remember things correctly. Then his attitude would shift and he’d apologize profusely. Almost bluntly admitting what he did and begging me to forgive him so we could move on with our lives. The conversation ended and the new day came it was time to make the report. It took most of the day to mentally prepare myself to go through the process. Luckily I was able to make the report from home. Since I had recently written everything down it wasn’t to hard to get through the events. The questions they asked weren’t too bad but I was prepared for the explicit detail. The officers themselves were nice enough. It was still laying the most vulnerable parts of me out there for essentially two strangers and my father. They took a lot of notes and said how there were a lot of factors in my favor. They stepped out to speak with the detective. When they came back in that is when they told me that there wasn’t enough to go off to make a case. That since I had been drinking how could I remember clearly and that it started consensual etc… They told me going forward I would only be destroyed in the case. The things they would say to me and the questions they asked would be far worse than what I experienced that day. They finished the report, to keep record of the incident. They told me I could get a temporary stay away order if I wanted. That did nothing for me though. He wouldn’t be able to come to work and people would eventually find out why. Most importantly he would know I reported him and it didn’t go further. I was devastated. That was my plan. That process was supposed to guide me through this. That plan was how I was surviving and then it was over too quickly. The option of taking the case to civil court was brought to my attention so I scheduled a consultation with a lawyer. In between this time he was out-of-town so I was doing okay at work and just focusing on my appointment with the lawyer. I just stayed focused on the next steps. I had another session with my therapist and I told her about my plan. She brought up how it wold feel if that route wasn’t successful either and my feelings about the criminal report not going further. It was then she brought up the thought of validation. She told me she was seeing that I had a need for validation that what he did was wrong. I agreed. As much as it shouldn’t matter whether or not people believe you, it is still a big deal. If I thought about the incident itself without myself as the victim I could see it as wrong. I knew it was an awful thing and I felt sick. Moment to moment I didn’t feel anything though. My whole life my strongest coping mechanism has been denial. My mantra has been to just keep moving. While I’m moving I just push whatever is happening to the side or underneath to focus on the task at hand. It’s easy for me, second nature really. I know now I can’t do that with this. I’ve seen the damage that can be done coping that way. I didn’t know how to make sure that didn’t happen this time. I didn’t know how to make myself deal with it. How do I feel it so I can put it to rest? My therapist ended that day by telling me it’s like waiting for a ball that’s been thrown into the air fall back down. Everything on the inside of me was thrown into the air and I was left waiting on the ground. I am standing there waiting to see what happens when that ball smacks the ground. Waiting to see which direction it bounces in next, what final damage it will cause. Well I met with that lawyer and she agreed to take on my case. I’ve decided not to pursue that route though. At the end of the day the lengths I would have to go to punish him would really only make me suffer more. It would only add time to my healing process. Also in between all of this due to other circumstances and by the grace of karma he no longer worked at the same place as me. Now that plan is over I am learning what my feelings look like now that there are no next steps to take. I am that ball hitting the ground. I am bouncing around feeling a lot of different emotions, trying to make sense of it all. I wrote this because a long time ago I knew I wanted to take my story and put it into the world somehow. That was a long time before I was ever assaulted. If I am being perfectly honest this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. It was through sharing that first experience with one of my closet friends that I knew someday I’d write something for all the other women out there. I wrote this because right now this is all I can do. Sharing my story and hoping it helps other victims is the only justice I can find right now. I want other victims to know you are not alone. Know that no matter who or what tries to tear you down this is not your fault. It’s not your fault you drank too much or wore your skirt too short. There’s no box rape fits into. There is no one type of sexual assault. It doesn’t matter how you reacted. Your body and mind go through shock. They each have their own biological responses. If you were too drunk to consent to sex that’s rape. If you consent to part of a sexual act but not another its rape. If your partner or spouse forces a sexual act on you it is rape. No means no. Only yes means yes. I want women to know the importance of DNA in rape cases. I want women to know regardless of the variation of the assault it is important to get examined after. It is important to tell a medical professional the truth so that the documentation is there if you decide to report . I want you to know justice has a different meaning for everyone. Reporting is an individual choice and it may not be the best for you and that’s okay too. Take the time practice self-care both mentally and physically. I wrote this because some of you will not know me but some of you will. For those who do I want this drive home how close this can hit you. We rape victims are your daughters, sisters, nieces, friends, cousins, girlfriends… There are women all around you that experience this evil. Women that have been preyed on by these monsters. I want you to see how real this issue of rape culture is, how close to home it hits. I want men that don’t understand consent and men who don’t value consent to see the damage you can inflict because there’s a hole left inside me now. There are things I’ve done just to feel anything. There’s a numbness that I am not sure will ever go away. There’s a strength that comes with surviving though. I have survived this. I have had the moment where thought it would break me. I thought I would cease to exist. I am here despite it. I survived and I continue to survive every day as I figure this out in my head. You can too. If you found this post helpful or insightful please feel free to like, comment, share and follow.

https://allisfigureoutable.com/2016/11/01/like-a-ball-thrown-up-waiting-to-fall/