#god knows how many coworkers of mine i could not fucking stand and yet. if it came down to i would have sooner died than let the kids see it

[a-larry-retrospective-blog]

The thing that gets me, even 10+ years down the line, is that EVEN IF Harry and Louis were weirded out by people shipping them (which IS fair, but also: I think the blame can be shared 50/50 between fandom and pr people) to the point where it "ruined their friendship", we simply shouldn't have been able to notice it.

Like, that's the WHOLE POINT of having people who media train you and pr people: to present a nice image to the public. And 1D's image, like EVERY boyband out there, revolved around thinking the boys were all close, they were happy to be together forever. The reason people were so blindsided by Zayn leaving the band is that they had to pretend everything was fine and dandy even when it wasn't, and the public bought it.

I'm not saying that's a good thing, I'm not saying I'm happy with it, I'm saying that's the reason pr people and managements and every other behind the scenes part of the industry even EXISTS: to smooth out the wrinkles of the image presented to us. Boybands are supposed to be a UNITED FRONT. We as the public are not supposed to know about the skirmishes boys get into, because people would not root for a band where they know there's infighting.

If H&L were actually barely speaking during all those Years (and that's the thing that gets me, it was genuinely YEARS, not like, a bad week), as management their job should have been to force them into a Get Along Shirt and have them actually be professional and act like they did not have disagreements. It seriously makes NO SENSE to me after all these years that there were span of Months of interviews in which they barely interacted with each other and acted like the other one didn't exist, because if it was actually them not wanting to speak to each other, a good (by this I mean somewhat professional, not morally good) management would have said "suck it up and pretend you're still friends". That was their job! I cannot stress enough how this was PRECISELY a job for pr people! And they didn't do it!

So either they were so bad at their job they didn't even TRY to fix the public perception of the band, or having them pretending the other didn't exist was the best outcome. Which. You see how insanely suspicious that was? Like, even without taking into account whatever weird glances they threw at people in the crowd or the images of them hesitating to touch each other, the fact that the mainstream narrative was THIS and no one DARED to put a patch on it is insane in and of itself. It's honestly the dumbest thing whoever was in charge ever did for these boys' image

[bobafetts-princess]

Mistakes Happen Once

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.5k (feels longer than that??)

Warnings: Javi is a fucking FLIRTTTTT, oral (f! Receiving) squirting (it’s a personal thing y’all) unprotected sex (wrap it and all that) Javi fucks sweet and passionate 🥵

A/N: This is Chapter 1 of a 6 part series I’m working on! Steve’s chapter will be out next week at the same time, let me know what you think about it!

Part Two ; Part Three

The first time you fell into bed with Javier Pena was after you after a successful mission to find one of Escobar’s drug plants.

-

You and Murph and Javi had gone out for a celebratory drink, which turned into a celebratory bottle before Murphy turned in. Connie needed him home, he told you both.

Javi had been giving you eyes all night long, trailing them over your exposed skin and giving you goosebumps. You knew where his head was at and honestly, that’s where yours was too. Javi was hot. Like hot hot, and judging from the screams you heard through your shared wall, he was a hell of a lover too.

You’d denied Javi before and he respected that. But he was a flirt to the core and always coming onto you, unsaid promises of how he could make you feel. But in your line of work you needed to keep your teeth, your edge. You’d never slept with a coworker before and you hadn’t ever planned to sleep with one, but another shot of tequila had you wondering what Javi would sound like murmuring things in your ear as he fucked you.

The two of you stumbled home, thankfully the bar was walking distance from the apartment complex you two shared with Steve and Connie. The two of you were talking and laughing too loud, making an absurd amount of noise and when you got in the front doors you both found that you weren’t ready to end the evening yet. He invited you in for a drink but the second you stepped foot into his apartment, the drink was long forgotten.

It was like one of those movie moments where you locked eyes with each other and then suddenly had to rip each other’s clothes off. He crushed you to the wall, foot kicking out to slam the door shut with his foot. One hand fumbled out to hit the lock, the other gripped the skin on your waist.

Javi’s lips were soft and pliant, but demanding at the same time as he descended on you kissing you with intent. The bristles of his mustache tickled your upper lip but your focus was elsewhere. Namely, the way he was stripping your shirt off your body, then following with his own. Strong, large, capable hands cupped your breasts, teasing the nipples through the cups of your bra and you let out a breathy whine at the feeling. Javi’s lips left your own, trailing down your neck and across your shoulder, deft fingers undoing your bra with one hand.

His lips wrapped around a nipple, teeth grazing lightly over one as his hand cupped the other breast, rolling your nipple between the pads of his fingers.

“So beautiful, make such pretty sounds,” he told you and it was then that you realized you’d been whining with pleasure the entire time.

Strong arms lifted you up by the backs of the thighs, carrying you down the hallway to his bedroom, kiss never breaking. Nimble fingers stripped you of your jeans, brushing along every inch of skin he could reach. You could feel the passion, the adoration of your body in the way his fingers glided over the skin. Strong lips traversed behind them, tongue tasting until he reached the apex of your thighs.

“Bet you taste so good, cariña,” his voice was a raspy whisper, fingers wrapped in the waistband of your panties as he pulled them slowly down your thighs. Large hands pushed you open, laying along your inner thighs as he stared down at your dripping core. His tongue was expert as he descended on you, circling your clit before dipping down into your core. He hit the spots that had you squirming on the bed, crying out for him. Javi knew how to make a woman scream and you were learning that firsthand.

“Javi!” You panted, his name the only thing your mushy brain could come up with. “Fuck Javi.”

“Love the way you say my name,” he told you, diving back in. One hand came up to brush at your entrance, a singular finger pressing in gently. You arched, crying out his name again and he added a second finger. You were squirming and moaning, one hand fisting in the sheets and one hand fisting in Javi’s hair. The hand that wasn’t brushing over the spot that made you scream slung across your hips to keep you in place.

“Fuck. Javi, I’m gonna come,” you warned him, hips grinding against his face. Lips came to wrap around your clit and the sensation of his mustache against you just heightened the sensation and you came, squirting on his hand.

“Dios mio, cariña,” his voice was deeper than usual, eyes trained on your center. “That’s how you come?”

“Little trick of mine,” you panted, enjoying the incredulous look on his face.

“Wanna see how many times I can make you do that,” he said, standing and retrieving a towel from the bathroom before you even realized that he was gone. He slid it underneath your hips before his fingers were inside you again, curling and hitting a spot inside you that had you arching out and crying out his name.

“Come for me again, bonita.” He instructed you and you did, deep groan leaving your chest as you created a wet spot on the towel underneath you.

“Jav-Javi, want you,” you told him, coming down from your high slowly but enough that you knew you needed him inside you. He obliged, kissing your hips before he stood to strip himself of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing any underwear so his cock sprang free immediately, thick and heavy, standing at attention for you.

He crawled up your body, cock brushing along your heated skin. His lips finally reach yours and he kisses you deeply, pulling your legs apart and brushing himself along your folds. He pulls back from the kiss, one hand lining himself up with your entrance as he asks if you’re clean. You nod frantically and he pushes in slowly, sitting back on his heels and watching you take him in. He’s thick and the burn of the stretch feels so fucking good as he works in, inch by inch.

“Feels so good, Javi. Please don’t stop,” you beg him, entranced by the look on his face.

“God never, baby.” He promises, finally bottoming out and leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. He shuffles again after a moment, strong arm wrapping around your back as he pulls you to him, spread wide over his thighs. He thrusts up experimentally, and the angle hits you somewhere deep and intense and you whine. Javi determines its a good whine though and does it again, eliciting the same reaction from you. He starts thrusting in earnest, his goal clear; to make you come again.

Your arm wraps around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin as he fucks you mercilessly, teeth nipping at every inch of skin he can reach. You’re sure there’s going to be marks when you’re both done, but you can’t even be bothered to think about that with the way Javi’s cock is hitting inside of you. He’s grunting right in your ear, telling you how good you feel and how pretty you look taking his cock.

It doesn’t take long, you’re so worked up and the angle that he’s hitting is making it hard to concentrate. So when a hand dips in between your bodies and circles your clit a few times, you break. Screams of his name come from your lips as you clench down on him and his own pace speeds up, his own release the goal now. He’s panting and whispering things in your ear in Spanish and English, praises and dirty words, arm holding your body flush against him.

His pace is frantic now but it feel so good as he pistons himself in and out of your body. Javi’s eyes roam over your body, the way your breasts bounce, the way you’re taking him in almost effortlessly, the way your head is thrown back in pleasure. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s groaning deeply, the sound reverberating in your bones as he comes.

You’re both panting and Javi is covering your chest and jaw with kisses as you both come down from your highs. His chest is pressed against yours, your nipples brushing against him. He’s still thrusting shallowly, pushing his come deeper inside you as he covers you in kisses.

“That was even better than I expected,” Javi chuckled as he nibbled along your jawline up to your ear. You simply laughed yourself, laying back on the bed with Javier following you, his body covering yours. “Stay?” He asked, but he really didn’t have to, you weren’t going anywhere this evening.

-

Somewhere in the distance you heard some yelling and a door slam, but you paid it no mind when Javi’s lips trailed further south, encompassing a nipple as he starts round two.

When you make it to work the next day you’re both in high spirits, having taken a shower together that morning.

But Steve isn’t, his face broken and angry as he pours something in his cup that shouldn’t be alcohol at 8 am.

“Connie left me last night.” He snaps when you ask if everything’s okay.

Well that explains the slamming door. You thought, plopping down next to him and working in silence.

Tags: @tibbietibbs @keeper-of-the-sarlacc-pit @jedi-and-clones @sammiesweet @auty-ren @ahoeformando

If you want to be added to my tag list lemme know!

[stripper-patrick]

I like the barbies💓, but I want the Bratz😈Steve Rogers

Warnings: language, fluff, smut, dom!Steve, choking, degradation, oral (m), angst, angry!Steve, fingering, fluff, crying, slight sub!Steve

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl

Relationship: Steve Rogers x black plus sized reader

Steve called a mandatory meeting but I’m not sure for what and I’m interested to see what he’s gonna say.

“Y/N” Scott calls and I turn around meeting him.

“Hey Scott”

“You look beautiful today” I can tell he likes me but usually I don’t pay attention because I’m so busy with work. See I work as a nurse but strictly for the avengers team. I interned for Stark and he hired me after a month seeing how good I work under pressure. Then that’s when I met Steve. They brought him to me when he was fresh out of the ice to which I took care of him as well as catching him up on the 66 years of history he had missed. He took a liking towards me and soon we started our best friendship which turned into a sexual relationship. I’d enjoy more but I don’t wanna ruin what we have so l handle this for now.

Me and Scott walk and talk together to the conference room where he opens the door for me “oh my god I’m so tired of wearing scrubs really I’d prefer to be in a big t-shirt and nothing else” I laugh. I notice I’ve caught Steve’s attention by that sentence. His blue eyes study my features of a short t-shirt dress and my silk-pressed ashy brown hair flowing gloriously on my shoulders with each step I take.

“Well I’m sure a lot of male patients would be very aroused by how good you’d look in either attire I know I would” I blush laughing and I catch a Steve’s eyes. The once ice blue orbs now turned into electric with what looks like lust and anger. Steve always was possessive but seeing as we aren’t together you’d think he’d let little things like this slide. But we’re both wrong.

Everyone piles in at once and we all sit down waiting for what Steve has to say. “For starters I’d like to thank everyone for coming to the meeting and as we know there’s a special event tonight the ultimate Christmas party Tony famously hosts every year but we don’t want it to be like the last time where we we’re attacked by robots which is something I never thought I’d said in my 99 years of life” he chuckles “let’s remember to have fun but keep the compound secure and safe as well”

“That was all you called us for?” Scott asks. He had a tendency to get under Steve’s skin often bringing up his past and on one occasion he even mentioned our extraordinary 74 year ago gap and Steve nearly put him in a full Nelson.

“It is is there a problem?” I can see Steve is boiling but I don’t know why

“No problem at all captain” he chuckles

“Good everyone’s dismissed” he calls “except for Y/N” my heart starts beating faster and I watch everyone leave. I avoid eye contact with Steve but the second I catch him (gif), I feel my wetness start to collect between my thighs. The door is shut and I stand up walking towards him. I do a half sit on the table as he strides towards me placing his hands on either sides of my hips coming about eye level to me. The smell of his mint toothpaste and Armani cologne is breathtaking.

“I don’t like how he talks to you or even looks at you”

“Who Scott? We’re just friends”

“He wants you Y/N and I’m sure he has a sense that something is going on between us so if he could he’d taste you right in front of me” Steve parts my legs stepping between them

“Nonsense Steve it’s not even like that. You’re just being over-protective and jealous. For what? I don’t know”

“Because you’re mine” his hand slides between my thighs as his calloused finger rubs my wet clit before sliding between my folds. My upper body slouches down as I push my hands behind me on the table to keep my balance. My eyes shut and I bite my lip holding back a moan.

“How can that be the case yet we’re not together?” I ask

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t mine” he says sliding a finger in. My body opens up to him. I’m feeling so many different emotions. Mad, sexually frustrated, horny, appalled. I don’t know what to do. He continues pumping slowly to torture me. My body shakes and he holds up my chin forcing me to look into his eyes. Steve curls his fingers making my body jolt. He moves his hand in a quick all-of-a-sudden pace slamming on my g-spot. My body rocks and my moans get louder. Steve covers my mouth “be a good girl for me and cum on my hand princess” my legs shake and next thing I know I’m convulsing against him trying to press my thighs together. My back arches as he pumps me dry. Once I come to my sense I watch Steve lick his fingers with a smirk.

“If you want me to officially” I stand up slowly watching him take a step back “you know what to do” I walk out going straight to my room. I take a deep breath as my wobbly legs force me to sit on the nearby chair. I’ve gotta start getting ready for this party. I bring myself together walking to the shower turning it on hot.

.....

I’m all dressed and ready for the party and I hear a bunch of people downstairs and the slow jazz music awaiting. I take one last look on the mirror at my outfit which is white mid rise bell bottoms, a double breasted blazer and a lace white bra that exposes the breast tattoo Steve likes so much. I grab my bedazzled clear heels sliding them on before heading downstairs. I stand at the top of the steps just grabbing some alone time before I merge with the crowd. A body slides next to me and I think it’s Steve until I meet eyes with someone else. Scott.

“Oh my god Y/N you look incredible” I smile thanking him keeping my eyes on the crowd “Jesus if I were Steve I wouldn’t let you walk out like that” I chuckle

“Scott I do what I want relationship or not”

“Speaking of what’s going between you and the crypt keeper” he takes a sip of his drink and I feel eyes burning into me. I look down seeing Steve staring right back at me. Sharon is staring at him like she hasn’t eaten in days and I feel my blood boil. He excuses himself and I watch him walk towards the steps.

“Nothing we’re just friends and coworkers”

“Hmm” he hums in disapproval. Steve meets us at the top with a fake smile on his face.

“Excuse me Scott I’d like to borrow Y/N for a minute” he grabs my arm whisking me away without even allowing Scott to comply.

Steve takes me to a dimly lit hallway and I yank my arm away “have you lost your damn mind” by this point I’m pissed. I get that Steve has attachment issues but that doesn’t mean he can control who I talk to let alone get mad that another guy is giving me attention when all he does is work and fuck me.

“Maybe. What the hell are you doing after I told you Scott is trying to get what’s mine”

“Steven how the fuck can I be yours and we’re not dating. And you know why we aren’t dating because you’re still strung up on Sharon who just so happened to be undressing you mentally”

“She was not” he scoffs. I squint my eyes in anger “It’s obvious Scott only wants to fuck you”

“And what the fuck do you actually get to do. Fuck me that’s it. You don’t know how bad I actually wanna be with you but the only thing we can do is fuck so don’t say shit about anyone else’s place when you’re actually participating in the act just using the same mindset” I storm away from him and walk downstairs mixing myself in the crowd.

“Y/N you look great” Pepper says “woah what’s wrong”

“Nothing I’m fine” I say. She knows me better than anyone else and she grabs my hand. She excuses herself from Tony and we head to the bathroom.

“Talk to me” a tear slips and I wipe it careful not to mess up my makeup. I explain to her what happened and she shakes her head

“Men are so stupid” she hugs me making me laugh. She helps me fix my makeup and it doesn’t look too bad. Pepper walks out with me our locked together and we go straight to the bar “4 vodka shots please”

The bartender grabs the Smirnoff bottle pouring the liquor into the small glasses setting them in front of us. She hands me 2 and I grab one glass tipping my head back letting the liquid glide down my throat leaving a fiery trail. My face scrunches up and the DJ spins the record stopping the smooth jazz.

I watch as Tony gets on the mic “I feel like we need to amp this party up some more” the crowd agrees as the DJ turns the music up putting on Meg Thee Stallion’s song Freak Nasty.

I take my second shot grabbing a lime to chase the liquor and replace the fiery taste in my mouth. My chest burns as the liquid courage smoothes down singeing my sternum.

I feel myself migrate to the dance floor rocking to the beat of the music. I bend over shaking my ass and I feel a body slide behind me. I’m not sure who it is but the guys hands slide around my waist keeping me close. “Damn baby can I take you home” before I’m able to pull whoever this is off of me Steve grabs him.

“Get your fucking hands off my girl” I watch Steve pull the guy away and he grabs my arm pulling me upstairs to his bedroom. I can tell he’s livid.

“Y/N what the fuck”

“I didn’t even know it wasn’t you” I say nonchalantly standing up “and again I don’t see why you’re mad we aren’t even-“ he cuts me off with a kiss and a hand pressed to my throat. Steve is quick to lay me on the bed still holding me in his powerful kiss. Steve pulls off my jacket moving his lips to my neck and breasts. I bite my lip holding back a moan. His hands slip into my pants undoing them and my legs fall open for him. I feel his erection against my thigh as he rubs my wet swollen clit begging for attention.

“Don’t stop” instead Steve does the opposite and stands up. I pull off my pants and soaked black thong. Steve undresses his bottom half and grabs my legs pulling me to the end of the bed. He taps his dick on my clit making me writhed before he finally pushes himself in me.

I grab his arm as he continues his assault breathing heavily near my ear. His moans are guttural and low as he nips at my ear. “Just like that please Steve” he pushed my thighs back on the bed stroking me down harder. My jaw drops and I lift my arms above my head gripping the sheets behind me.

“You look so fucking good doll” I whimper holding him close to me. The thought of Sharon taking him away from me overwhelms me and a tear slips. Or it could be from just how good he’s pounding out my pussy.

“Look at you. A beautiful fucking mess. My beautiful fucking slut” he bites my collarbone quick to put my legs on his shoulders.

“Steve please”

“What do you want? Use your words” I can’t even think. I’m not sure what I want so I let my heart do the talking

“Don’t leave me”

“I won’t baby girl. Fuck you look so pretty taking my dick like that”

“Steve” I moan. His strokes increase as he wraps his hand tighter around my throat

“Nobody is allowed between my pretty little sluts thighs but me” my release is on the brink as he keeps talking to me like this “and if they try... I’ll kill them”

“I’m cumming” my legs shake uncontrollably as my hips buck upward.

“Cum for me please” he whimpers. I muster up the strength and flip us over riding him. I grind hard on Steve as he coats my walls in his juices whimpering my name.

I keep bucking my hips watching him squirm. I slow down and collapse on his chest feeling his dick pulse inside of me.

“You’re mine” he rasps

“I’m yours” I smile

“We’re going on a date tomorrow to solidify it but for right now will you be my girlfriend?” He smiles

“Of course” I laugh as he kisses my head.

[peeterparkr]

The Holiday.|Tom Holland

chapter one: The Prince and the Pauper. (Pauper.)

↳ read Sophia’s version here and a little bit of Tom. (Tim fic)

So, the christmas series is finally here! This is a 2 fics in one, meaning I’ll write Tom’s fic and @jambrosemc will write a Tim Chalamet fic, if you’re not familiar with the concept, it’s based on the movie The Holiday, where two women after being heartbroken switch their homes and lives for a bit. Both fics are reader insert, however Emma’s character will be named Sophia in this fic and my character will be named Iris in her fic. Remember the fics are connected and that Tom’s introduction is held in @jambrosemc​ ‘s fic. And so Tim’s introduction is here. Hope it’s not complicated and we hope you love it. 

STORY SUMMARY:  Two women troubled with guy-problems, one who’s in love with love and one who doesn’t believe in it are both suffering from a broken heart, with little reasoning and nothing left to lose, they swap homes in each other's countries for the holidays, where they’ll meet a local guy who will probably change their destiny. 

chapter summary: The heartbreak of an unrequited lover. pairing: tom holland x y/n | warnings: Chad, mentions of sex, alcohol, mentions of cheating.  word count: 7.2k

story masterlist. 

next chapter

wanna be tagged?

There is something unequivocally  known about love, everything that’s been said about it, is almost true. We’ve been bombarded with love songs, romantic comedies, romance novels, poetry, it’s everywhere. There can never be enough love songs, because no matter how incredible it never seems to be the same, you’ll never see two pieces that are identical, some of them are similar, of course, but they all speak from a very deep side of Love.  Love isn’t one thing that is written down, not an exact science. There’s no right formula to whatever love is. But every single thing written about love might be true, at least to someone. Love is something so personal and yet we can all relate to it, but then again there’s never two loves that will feel the same. There can be two love stories starting at the same time but you’ll never feel like it’s the same. But everytime someone dares to write or speak or sing about love, it’s most likely to be true. Or so you’ve learned throughout the years.

In Romeo and Juliet,  Romeo asked himself ‘Did my heart love till now?’, and there's common sense to it, we’ve all felt that…We’ve all wondered if you’ve known love before you met the one.  You believed you had, you thought you had it all figured out. How much can one learn about love? We’ve all felt it. At some point, or another. You had. It’s incredibly easy to understand that though love is unique in its own sense, love is universal.

You did believe that everything concerning love was true. Shakespeare also said, "Journeys end when lovers meet."

Was it true? You loved to rely on that thought, that we were meant to travel until we found the one. That two people are destined to meet in the middle and start a new one together.

You loved to think about love more than anyone did, you were hopeless. It’s incredibly complex, and subtle and it’s got the power to change someone, and a story, completely. Love is not easy.

Love is also blind, you, perfectly,  knew about that. It was smart to know that you’d been blinded yourself.

Love fades. Love is lost. Love is complicated. Love can be something eternal, or love can only last for a night.

Then, there was the one love you knew, the one you’d been living for a while. Unrequited love. No one really talks about that one. All love stories rely on the fact that the two lovers will end up together. But the unrequited love? No, no one dares to write about it. Maybe because they’re too sad in their sorrow to even think of that. You always wondered what would be of that story if someone ever dared to write it. And what’s the destiny awaiting for them?

Always the bad luck, the ones with the blinded reason, but always foreign to that one feeling of joy. Always wounded, and always left when the sun is out. The handicapped of hearts.

You were one, you were one of them, the one who is in love with that one guy who never dares to love back.

It gets even worse around the Holidays, everyone speaks of it. It’s everywhere. You go to the mall and see people buying gifts for their significant others, you turn the TV on and there’s the usual bad romantic films that you ended up watching, always the same, the girl goes from the big city back to her old town and her high school sweetheart is in love with her still, all while there’s an angel or Santa Claus, or whatever they come up this time, and she finds herself falling back in love with her old town, and she’s a painter or whatever and she lets go her dream of the big city to go back to her pathetic love interest.

Yet you always watched them, curled up in front of your TV with the candy that you were supposed to give out on Halloween but instead kept them for Christmas.

That was you, a hopeless romantic who was desperate for love.

You were there, wrapping a delicate christmas present that probably was not wanted but that you were too blinded and too stupid to see that. Also trying to wrap your own mind whether you’d give this out or not.

You were pathetic, and there he was in all his splendor. Chad.

Of course, maybe that’s what you get for being in love with a man named Chad, but he didn’t live up to his name. He was handsome, and incredibly perfect, and you were always so mesmerized by him. You had been in love with him for three years now, three miserable years. And honestly it’s been the worst years of your life, worst birthday, christmases, Halloween, New Years Eve’s that needed wine and Xanax. The biggest curse. All because you’re in love with a man who’s never and will never ever love you back.

He probably wasn’t conventionally good looking, not for most girls around anyway, but he had a confidence and a sly sexuality that could get you to your knees in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N, dear, please tell me you’re not deeply lost looking at Chad?” Angela, your coworker and probably closest thing to a friend asked.

“What?” You were snapped out of your trance. “No, no!” Though you had been.

The holidays party at the newspaper you worked at. You wrote the only good news, you’d say, the column of UNIONS, when you described marriages and gave the couples a little bit of spotlight to their recent and new found joy. You wanted to write way more than that, honestly, but you didn’t mind. Though you knew you were probably wasted potential. Potential, everyone said you had it.

“I thought that was over,” Angela pointed out.

“It is! It is—“You tried to say. “It—is, mostly.”

Angela rolled her eyes, “thought so,” she snapped. “What even was the deal with you two? You used to fuck him right?”

“I—“you coughed. “Yeah, I used to sleep with him, but more importantly I was in love with him.”

Still were, for that matter.

“Oh, great, and then—you discovered he was fucking that other girl in accounting, Denise.”

“Yes, I did find out and hence why I stopped… sleeping with him,” you whispered, embarrassed. “And I don’t want to talk about this at the party.”

“But like I always see you two together, so he cheats on you and you keep being friends with him?” Angela pushed to your own disarray. “Plus, I’m like 300% sure you’re the one who writes the articles for him, he hasn’t one ounce of talent and you do.”

You did write his stuff. But couldn’t get anywhere yourself.

“I well-”

“And he cheated, y/n.”

“Yes but he didn’t cheat, you see in his mind we weren’t in a relationship and we were in mine… but like—“

“So if you’re not in a relationship that means you have to expect he’s going to fuck other women?” She pointed out.

“I—“ you didn’t know what to say. “No, no, I mean—but I was so in love with him, but—“Somehow this had opened a gate that you hadn’t opened in a while. “Wait—No, no I can’t cry,” you said to yourself feeling like there was going to be a cascade pooling your eyes. “Does it look like I’m crying?”

“Y/n, maybe—Look,” she wiped off a tear, I—“She coughed. “Did he ever say he loved you?”

“I—yes, three times.” You had counted them. “When I reminded him of that he said it must've been a  question and it most certainly was not.”

“You see y/n, when you catch a man fucking another woman you’re not supposed to remain friends with him, you’re supposed to make a scene, threaten to chop off his dick, throw things at him, like I did with your brother.”

You rolled your eyes, “Tim didn’t cheat on you,” you said. “You slept with him once, didn’t talk to each other for like a month and he found someone else and you made a scene.”

You knew your brother was many things but he wasn’t a cheater, he was not a bad person. Tim was someone with enough confidence to know what he wanted and sure, he did find a one night love with strangers every now and then, but he wasn’t a bad person. He probably was too confused. He’s the typical man who is afraid of commitment and has no follow through.

He never fell in love, that wasn’t his thing. The opposite of you, who fell in love deeply. Tim never—wanted any commitment. He could have a one night stand and never follow through.

“But—you see that’s what you’re supposed to do,” Angela continued.

“But I’m not doing anything, we just—text,” you admitted with pity, “and sometimes we FaceTime but like that’s it, and we’ve gone out for lunch and look, he says we’d be idiots to give up our friendship but—“You couldn’t continue.

“Fucking men, they’re trash, all of them, he’s got you right where he wants you, who wouldn't want a fantastic girl like you in love with him ... hanging on his every word …?” She asked. “Chad knows anytime he wants to crawl back …”

“And he is… Look, today he—he said we should go out and he gave me a Christmas present.”

“Which was?”

“A set of lingerie but—“

“Oh my god y/n,” she snapped. “I can’t believe how pathetic you are.”

“Is it pathetic really? To think the world is near perfection every time I’m with him?”

Angela rolled her eyes. “Very. It’s...Chad.”

“I… is it wrong, really? I just want to be loved.”

“And you chose Chad?”

Before you could say anything, your boss called out. “Everybody gather around. I have an important announcement to make,” your boss said. “First of all you, I want to wish each and every one of you a Merry  Christmas. It’s been a year, hasn’t it? I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished,”he kept rambling on their achievements or whatsoever they had done throughout the year, you couldn’t care less. “Given that, we may be able to get by with a smaller announcement—Which involves y/n—y/n? Are you there?”

Angela raised your hand.

“Well y/n your column on weddings has been lovely,” he said.

Was it though?

“And—Well, a wedding was privately announced earlier, and I don’t think any other paper in town knows about it and I want you to be the first to report on this particular union,   as it is between two of our most esteemed colleagues got hitched! Bring a loud cheer for Chad Bloom and Denise Higgins!”

Boom.

It all felt...no.

You tried desperately not to cry. Everyone could see you there. Were you dreaming? This was a nightmare.

You didn’t know how you got the guts to get out of that office without crying. You’ve never felt braver before, but you had to give the politest of smiles to Chad and everyone around to then proceed to get your coat and head home. How pathetic did you look in your car crying to a guy who definitely was going to do that.

This felt like a nightmare. The love of your life was engaged.  And you couldn’t do anything about it. Because you didn’t believe in multiple loves, only one, love wouldn’t come again and knock on your door. This was it, you were destined to be lonely and stay lonely. This was your very worst nightmare, all that time wasted upon and there was nothing you could do about it.

It hurt, your heart was wrenched. You’d open the Halloween candy sooner, and you’d bought ice cream, three pints of ice cream.

Just a week before he had given you the set of lingerie and said he was eager to see you wearing it. Honestly, you had lied to Angela. You had seen him a couple of times, and sooner or later you’d end up in between the sheets because you had absolutely no self control when it came to him. He knew how to press your buttons and where to touch you and he’d try to charm you each time and you’d end up falling for it. He’d say that he’d changed and that he always believed in you.

Honestly, you always fell for it because you thought you were both destined to be in love.

But now it was all gone, you’d lost him. He was going to marry someone else.

This probably was the lowest point in your life, it really was. Because it was so stupid to fall in love with someone who was just going to step on you, and you needed someone. Time was passing by, it was getting darker and night was only drowning you more. You needed someone to talk to, who’d listen. But someone who wouldn’t judge you just as bad or who couldn’t judge you as bad.

You were getting tired of crying but you couldn’t help it. You felt insignificant and as small as humanly possible. So very crushed.

You called your brother, because though he probably would judge you, and he’d probably not care, he was kind of forced to listen because you were relatives and you did help him from time to time. Lately more than you wanted to.

“Y/N—?” Tim answered, and you could hear there was music playing behind him. Of course he’d be awake in the middle of the night. He probably was out clubbing.

“Tim—I need—I’m not okay,” you admitted.

“Y/N I can’t really—“he laughed in between. “Hear you.”

“Chad is engaged!” You said louder.

He laughed. “Chad, what a stupid name.”

“Tim I’m serious!” She stated.

“How serious can this be his name is Chad!” Tim giggled. He was clearly drunk.

“Tim! I—He’s engaged I—I can’t believe it just a week ago he said he—“

“We’ve both known Chad is an asshole y/n, his name is Chad for fuck’s sake,” Tim pushed. “We both—I thought you were over him.”

“I… well.”

“Fuckin’ hell, y/n.”

“I’m never gonna love again,” you stated.

He scoffed. “Love doesn’t exist, y/n,” he stated. “Not for someone named Chad.”

“Stop.”

“He—“Tim sighed. “Look, we both knew he was an idiot, and we both knew he was going to break your heart and—He already had! May I remind you of that? He cheated on you!” He stated. “He is an asshole who doesn’t deserve any of your tears and I’m a hundred percent sure you are crying.”

You were, for that matter. Love for you was also always shedding tears.Sad tears. Love hurts. “I love him.”

“And I love this vodka on my hand,” he stated. “That—means nothing, okay?”

“You’ve never been in love,” she snapped. “You don’t know how it feels to have your love taken away—“

“Don’t go there, y/n.”

“I—I just—I can’t—“

“Y/N you need a break,” Tim said without really caring. “I’ll call you back later alright? I’m busy.”

A break.

Yes, that’s exactly what you needed. A break from your stupid and pathetic life, a break from your little fantasy. A break from Chad. Honestly, you were tired of it. Always having the worst of luck. You needed a break from men, though you barely had… Being completely honest, it only takes one man to lose faith in humanity. They hold that power.

You knew what love was and well, you’d never have it. You were destined to be the side character, the best friend and the one plot device. Not relevant.

Because honestly how stupid were you.

But was it really so bad to feel that way? To long for love, for someone who would run to you, and whom you could fall so deeply with. Guess now you had to build up walls. Because now you couldn’t get nobody else to hurt you again, nobody was worth this pain. Nobody should ever feel this way. You never wanted to let anyone hurt you again.

Honestly, you so needed a break.  But where and how?

You couldn’t stay in your place, it held too many memories, lots of them of you being stupid with Chad because you were such an idiot for letting him in your house and corrupt your place. You needed a break because everything would remind you of him, your car, his car, his house, this town, everything. Also your place was too sad.

You could go away. You had to, because you couldn’t let yourself drown in more sorrow. You were so unbelievably tired of it.

You had to go. Away from him, away from this place and your stupid house. Hell, if you could, you’d go to another country.

You rang Timmy again.

“What- y/n?”

“Where should I go?”

“What?”

“Yes on vacation,” you added.

“How do I-I don’t know, fuck it eh, oh wherever they speak English, bye.” He hung up on you again.

Where did they speak English?

England, of course.

Hell, maybe that’s why Chad didn’t love you, you were stupid, probably. England. London. You’d always wanted to go there. Anywhere really, but you never went anywhere because you were still waiting on Chad. Jesus, how much time did you spend wasting on that man?

England.

You opened up your laptop, ready for it. You needed to get away and not waste the holidays watching old and bad Hallmark movies eating ice cream by yourself. Or maybe yes, just far away from your own house.

Airbnb.

You went straight to London, it always seemed like a dream, besides it could work. And you scrolled through houses, big ones, small ones.

Then you found one. ‘Cozy, lovely place above a bookshop’. It did call your mind, it gave the idea of a perfect fantasy, it seemed nice enough.

And far, very far. And so different from whatever her fantasy with Chad had been, what was his thing? Island in the Caribbean.

You kept reading.

“In the other direction, the Bayswater Road will take you to Notting Hill (location of the Julia Roberts/ Hugh Grant film of the same name) and its fantastic local restaurants and bars, boutique shops, and the famous Portobello Road Market.”

That caught your mind. It seemed… perfect but to live with that fantasy of yours to live in a stupid romcom. Could it be?

No, no. You had to go in with the idea that no matter how romantic, you had bad luck and not even such a romantic place would make you have someone to love. You were really supposed to be always lonely. But the idea… of leaving did thrill you.

You didn’t think much of it, but the next morning, you still had that thought roaming in your mind, and eventually… you tried to reach out. It had closed, however. But you had saved the ad.

Sophia.

That was her name.

Hey! I’m interested in your house! That seemed too weird. Besides she had closed it.

You decided to reach out anyway.

“Hey, I was interested in your house! I don’t know if someone else rented it but I thought it was worth the shot. Is it still available? I’m sorry if it’s not. I just really liked your place! It’s okay if it’s not! Sorry! Thank you!” You sent it in. Wondering if you’d apologized just enough times.

You knew she’d probably not respond.

“Oh, sorry! I was renting it because I was planning to go on holiday with my boyfriend but plans changed. We broke up recently so I won’t be going anymore,” she answered.  That had been quick. Lucky she was online but the place was no longer available.

This was your bad luck only. Of course she wasn’t going to rent it. The dream seemed too far away. But… she had just broken up, she probably was feeling awful.

“Oh, I’m sorry!  why did you break up with him?” You asked.

Then read again what you’d just asked. What was wrong with you? This was a stranger. They didn’t need to give any explanation.

“I’m sorry you don’t have to answer that. I don’t know why I asked.” You added.

She was typing. “No, don’t worry! I guess it’s pretty complicated but long story short, he cheated on me.”

Been there, you thought to yourself. But probably at least most likely she was dating him and they were in a relationship not like you with your stupid “whatsoevership” with Chad.

“Men are trash,” you texted her.

“To say the least,” she answered.

You bit your lip. You knew you had to open up to. Well you didn’t have to, but you… felt the need to.

“I’m really sorry, I know how it feels. I was actually looking at your place to escape from a man myself. The love of my life, Chad, just got engaged.”

As soon as you sent it you saw how stupid you looked. You were absolutely pathetic.

“Chad?” Sophia asked.

You chuckled. You could see the smirk from the other side.

“I know. It’s my fault for falling in love with a Chad. Lives up to his stupid name.” Was your response.

It honestly was. But thought it seemed fun to poke on his name, it really didn’t occur to you that it was because of his name that he was an asshole, don’t blame it on a name.

“Well, I’m sorry that “Chad” had to be the love of your life. It sounds like we both need to get away.” Sophia sent.

Yes, you too were sorry.

“Definitely, but I’m gonna keep looking. I need to be at least 500 miles away from him.”

You really were going to keep looking, maybe not as perfect as the place Sophia had but at least go away.

“Maybe we could work something out?” Sophia asked.

Huh.

You grinned before chuckling. “Let’s switch lives like in The Parent Trap, although we’re not twins we’d be switching breakup lives.”

That would be a fun idea, impossible of course but you secretly hoped it could be done.

“Sounds interesting! Where are you from?” She asked.

Was she really up for it or was she just like you? Bored and alone enough to be talking to a stranger you’d met over Airbnb. Some people do tinder, but guessed you did Airbnb to make friends with other women who’d fallen under the sorrow that is falling in love with men.

“Astoria, Oregon. Pretty boring compared to London I guess.” Was your answer. Of course if she was remotely interested on switching before, all hopes would flush now.

“Not at all! All I care is that it’s far from here.” Sophia answered.

Was… it for real?

“Me too.”

You answered in hopes, but not really she’d back away.

“So, should we switch?” She asked.

You stared at the screen, not believing it. You had to make sure. “You’re serious? My place is nothing like yours.”

“Surely it’s not too horrible.”

It wasn’t, honestly. It was pretty. But not exciting, it was only normal. It was clean, it was full of books.

“I have a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room. That's it. And I’m not near a romantic location like yours. I do have a dog, though.”

You didn’t know why you were sabotaging yourself. Matter of habits, maybe.

She didn’t.. Back away. “That’s perfect, I want far away from romance.”

So weird, you wanted to go near something romantic to be reminded love exists, or whatever. You didn’t understand why. Honestly, it probably was only a way to cope with this.

“Well, this is your chance.”

Honestly, this place was everything but romantic.

“Can I ask you one thing?” She asked.

She was going to back away. “Sure.”

“Are there any men in your town?” She asked.

Well, there goes your chance. You had to be honest about it. “Honestly? Zero.”

You waited for the ‘not interested' answer, instead she gave you: “When can I come?”

You scoffed with delight, not believing it. “Tomorrow too soon?” You asked, half-joking only. Honestly, you had to get away now.

“Tomorrow’s perfect actually.”

You couldn’t believe it. “wait wait wait but like are you for real?”

“Absolutely, or would it be too crazy?”

It ws for that matter, but when you’re brokenhearted you have no common sense. You didn’t have one of your own, that is. But this was exciting and this seemed like an adventure. A great idea for the one book you’d promised yourself you’d end up writing one day, instead of writing every other article for Chad.

You thought about it, you really wanted to go through with it. “It is but I’m down for it, but like, okay do you want pics of my home or something so you don’t think I’m a creepy old man who might kidnap you?”

And that would bring less of suspicion, god, why were you like this?

“Umm, yes actually :) that would be great.”

Yeah, she’d say that.

“Okay, wait, want my phone number so we’re not talking over air bnb?”

“Yes, I feel like that might be better.”

What was going on? Why were you exchanging numbers with a girl who you had never met and who lived in a completely different country. Besides, it was even crazier to think you btoh were thinking about switching places. You were crazy, completely off reason. Yet you didn’t know how or why you ended up both texting more, and talking. Showing each other’s places and ranting about men.

You couldn’t blame her for not believing in love, of course she wouldn’t. The ne guy she gives her heart to cheated on her. You wouldn’t blame her, at all. Besides, it was just…

You both had a very different version of it, but it was… Different. Yes, different, you guessed there was no other way to put it into it.

The texting didn’t cease, it continued more than you ever thought it would. Because sometimes it’s easier to rant to a stranger about life and love’s misfortunes. It seemed incredibly stupid how you both were talking about men who decided to ruin your lives. How in this world had you ended up venting to a stranger?

Danny blamed it on her. Danny seemed like the typical male who wanted to have a girlfriend and well, there was Sophia. It seemed sad, seemed like they both settled for it. Not even Sophia seemed to talk about him with love. She was just so… Not into it. Just talking about someone who she used to share time with.

She had given up on it. You couldn’t understand that. If the one who wasn’t the one could make her happy at some point, how happy would she be with the one?

However, you both seemed very alike, and both of you probably were in the same situation. Well, of course, the cheating part was different. But you’d gone through it as well. But Sophia explained that Danny, her ex, hadn’t even felt sorry for cheating.

You knew that story like the palm of your hand. Chad well… He blamed it on you, too. And he had said it, he didn’t cheat.

And though the stories were so different, the feeling was the same, of wanting to take a break from your pain, from a heartache and being so damn unreasonable to think of this. Honestly, though the idea of London seemed romantic, you knew you’d end up curled up crying on the other side of the world.

Sophia seemed to be very well put together, she had her bookshop, which added to her life. And sure, she seemed like a workaholic but she seemed to be kind. Someone who had the guts to follow her dreams and someone who barely had time to think about love.

You wished you were a bit more like her. She seemed like a main character. Even her name was a main character one.

The texting, not sure how or when, turned into a facetime call, and there you were, facetiming with a stranger about the lack of love you’d been involved with.  You pitied her, though. Not in a bad way, but in a way you could completely understand what she was going through. She seemed tough enough. But for her, love had rules. It had to be a certain way, and life had to have a certain balance and everything had to be merely perfect. But love for her was simple, the only rule was not to cheat.

Danny, her ex, had broken that rule. Which honestly, from what you’d gathered she was someone who actually tried. But… No, Sophia had seen him fade out. It always scared you to see that, to see how someone falls out of love. Sophia had seen it. But maybe Sophia’s belief, or lack of, of love was just… Surreal. But you understood it, not completely. But you did.

How could she believe in love when she’d never had it? Truly had it.

And she spoke of love as if it was a disease. Maybe it was, a disease. But was love really the disease or the aftermath the true one?

She didn’t believe in love. And not in a way that everyone has gone through, not in the way when you’re so brokenhearted that you don’t believe in it for a while. No, she didn’t want to give it a chance. For her, life was supposed to be about her success and her job, and the thrill of owning a bookshop.

Maybe she was the one who was right, after all you'd proved that love only could hurt. And how could you, after all of this, believe in it?

“So how long were you with him?” You asked her, as you were pacing around your kitchen, honestly you didn’t care if a complete stranger was seeing you in your ‘Chad reaction’, the bottle of wine, the chips, the cookies, your pj’s. Your pug dog, Tommy following you around.

Yet she was there, so elegantly, with her glass of wine. How was she handling it so well?

She gave it a thought. “About four years. What about you? How long have you loved Chad?” She smirked at the thought.

Four years. It seemed… enough. You rolled your eyes at the mention of his name. “Oh god it does sound super stupid,” you groaned. “But… Three stupid and miserable years, it’s a low point,” you said before finally opening up the wine and pouring a glass.

“No, it’s not stupid,” she answered. But it was, his name was Chad. “But, I can imagine how it would be a low point.”

Very, very low point. “But like you told me—He blamed it on you?” You couldn’t put your mind to it, at least Chad had accepted he’d slept with Denise. Of course, he didn’t say he cheated but he hadn’t… blamed it on you.

“He did,” she admitted. “He said I worked too much, and that I didn’t give him enough attention.”

You clenched your jaw, incredulous of how stupid he was. If you met the guy you’d probably slap him. “Fuck him, honestly, you’re successful bet he was intimidated by your success.” Because that’s how men work.

Sophia sighed. “Hmm, I doubt it. He just seemed… “ She paused. “bored of me.” You could see she was hurt. “I mean, he was right about one thing. I do spend most of my time at work, but that doesn’t give him any right to do that.”

“No. it doesn’t,” you agreed as you plopped on your couch, your dog jumping to your lap .” Why—Why are men—Like—”You didn’t know what you wanted to ask. “No, never mind that’s my question,” and it was. “Why are men?”

She let out a soft laugh. “Why are men indeed. More specifically, why is Chad?” She joked.

You laughed, too, with distress, running a hand through your face. “Ugh, don’t even mention him,” you whined. “He’s an asshole, can you imagine just a week ago he wanted to sleep with me?” You snaked with disbelief.

She groaned. “What I really have trouble understanding is why you ever wanted to sleep with him.” You had the question backwards, why had he ever looked at you? “Maybe his personality, but he seems like such a wad.”

You didn’t know how to answer the question. Then again, you had the same question for her. Why Danny? Why, being such an incredible woman, had she chosen Danny? Love is blind. You’d learned that over the years.

Maybe because ‘Danny and Sophia’ sounded like something with balance. But did it really? How could she see it so simply?

“Look—I—” You took a deep breath. “I believe in love at first sight,” and you did, in your own way. “and I don’t know, I guess—I saw the fantasy, you know?” You explained. “Thought we could—I don’t know, he was charming,” because he had been, at very first, he had been charming and he’d learned how to make you fall in love with him. “I guess I wanted that, you know the whole love story,” you sounded so childish and stupid but how could anyone ever apologize for being in love. “And he made me believe he could give it to me and then he just never—”You had to face the truth. “He only wanted sex and I fell in love,” it all ended so simply. Maybe Sophia was right all along. “Pathetic right?”

She watched you, and you saw it, the pity in her eyes. Yet someone else feeling sad for you.  She probably did think you were pathetic. “No, I don’t think it’s pathetic… I think… well, I’ve come to the conclusion that love isn’t worth any cost,” she answered. “Not really, especially since it doesn’t even seem real.” You wondered again, how come she’d never felt it. “Love makes people get their hopes up. It makes us… give too much of ourselves to other people, when we don’t even know what our future with them looks like,” she explained. Yes you were probably a mental woman to her. “But I don’t think it’s pathetic that you wanted to believe in something that only seems to come from fairytales, I just think that’s what most people do.”

How bad is it to want a fairytale? “Love is worth it, though,” you said, because how come a beautiful feeling could carry so much pain. “It’s men who are the problem.”

She grinned, defeatedly. “Suppose you got me there…”

You had to ask though. “But you... like really don’t believe in love?” You asked. “Then why were you with Danny? Didn’t you love him?”

She grimaced and took a sip of her wine. “You know,” she paused to think a bit. “I thought I loved him, and I thought he loved me.” You understood that part, believing someone loves you back and then it turns out they didn’t… Well, it hurt. “But, I guess he just…”She probably didn’t understand it herself. “And it just made me realize that, even if love is real, it comes so rarely that I don't believe I would ever find it.” That you could understand, though you were so enthusiastic about the feeling, you knew you weren’t meant to find it. “I just don’t think most people do.” She watched you, curiously. “Why have you put so much into it if you were hurt?”

It was an escape, really. Love seemed to make people happy and you wanted to be happy. She reminded you so much of Tim, talking trash about love and not understanding the thrill for it. Being so done with the feeling.

“I think… I dunno, love isn’t a one time thing,” you started with that, because it was true. “I think the problem is I suffered from unrequited love, but I think I… I dunno, I think we get chances,” you said. “Not me though,” you scoffed. “but it’s… I don’t know, I think I’ve always read about love and I’ve always wanted that, and love is complicated, that’s it,” you said, because love could come in so many ways. “I don’t think you can easily-“You shook your head. “I mean I do believe in a sort of thing like love at first sight but I mean, I believe in second chances, but like not for everyone,” seemed like believed in second chances for Chad. “ I guess I… I think there is such a thing as love I’m just… “ you took a deep breath. “super unlucky and maybe that sweet fantasy of any Julia Roberts’ romcom isn’t for me, I’m destined to be a side character who gets no… attention.” Or love.

Sophia probably believed you were helpless. You were. “Oh, come on Iris, that’s not true,” it was easy for her to say. She was the main character. “I mean, if you do come here then you’ll have plenty of opportunity to live a Julia Roberts movie. People seem to find this place so thrilling…” Why wouldn’t they. “I don’t seem to know much about love, or to really be the one to talk to about it, though… “ She admitted truthfully. She gave it a thought. “You know, you should talk to my friend, Tom, if you come. I think you’d get along well, he gushes on about love all the time.”

Your dog raised its head as soon as he heard his name. Tom. You smiled and petted him. “It is thrilling I mean, it’s near Notting Hill,” you were excited. “I just need Hugh Grant and that’s it but…”You knew it wouldn’t come. “You might come here and hate on love with my brother, he hates everything related to it.”

He really did. Tim was even worse than her. Tim never, ever had believed in love. He said he didn’t want to bother about it, no commitment, not ever seeing someone twice because why would he? He said it was a waste of time. Shades of gray on love. And he said he didn’t want to risk just to get hurt. He said love was… a mystery he didn’t want to explore. He liked simple things.

“Really? He sounds better than most men already,” she commented.

You laughed. “He’s not.”

If you ever bumped into someone like your brother you’d end up running the other way.

She chuckled. “Aren’t siblings meant to support one another?”

You scoffed. “You’d think that,” you pointed out. “But no, he’s a man,” you stated clearly. “I don’t know who’s worse men who hate love or men who pretend to love love,” you snaked. Probably the second one. “Your friend is probably the second one.”

Men who don’t believe in love at least are direct about it, and the second type they know and try to hurt you.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. He seems to really believe in it, maybe more than you. He’s really sweet, typically… “She said. “I mean, he is a man so he has his days”

You heard her…. And then you clicked it. Tom, that friend of hers, he probably was in love with her. “Oh,” you closed your eyes. “Of course…. so… Right, right,” she chuckled. “But you don’t believe in love and...Right, right,” you thought it was ironic. You hadn’t even met the guy but you could tell that he probably was so smitten with her and she didn’t see it. A perfect love story.  Why couldn’t she see it? “Perfect setup, see?” You said. “This town is perfect for you, nothing that has to do with romance. It’s a great way to get away from everything romance.”

She seemed confused, because of course, she didn’t see it, she couldn’t, for that matter. But god, how did she not see it?

“Then I can’t wait to go, really,” she went along. “I mean, it seems perfect for you here, too. You can surround yourself in things to remember the “fantasy” of love again,” she offered. “So, are we really switching tomorrow?”

You couldn’t quite put your mind to it. It had been hours of you speaking with this stranger. And all because you wanted to change lives with a stranger. Were you actually going to go through with it? You wanted to.

“You think there are any flights?” You asked, half joking.

“I’m sure there have to be some. Should we check?” She offered.

You smirked and reached for your laptop, conveniently in front of you. “Definitely.”

You expected her to back up.

“Wonderful.” She hadn't. “How long are we doing this for?”

Forever? You wanted to say. “Uh, depends, holidays are coming soon… “ You pointed you. “So, even though I have no interest in spending Christmas here, what’s your idea?”

Because you didn’t want to spend Christmas with your family and hear that question, because you’d promised you’d bring Chad for Christmas. Why? You didn’t know. Because you were an idiot.

Sophia wrinkled her nose. “Nothing is really keeping me here for it, honestly.”

“I’m just-- you’re okay with dogs, right?” You asked as you pointed the camera at your puppy, honestly you had lied, Tommy was the love of your life. A young pug who loved to follow you around. “Because little Tommy here is going to miss me.”

She smiled at him. “I’d love to take care of… did you say…”She tried not to laugh. “l-little Tommy?”

You grinned as you hugged the dog close. “Yeah, his name is Tom. He’s the only male that matters.”

“Oh, I love that. I would love to trade Tom’s with you,” she chuckled.

Oh god, why didn’t she see it?

“As long as I don’t have to feed that one,” you chuckled.

“I do hope that you don’t have to, he seems somewhat capable of caring for himself,” she grinned. “Oh, by the way. He’ll be running my shop for me while I’m away, sometimes he stays later for work so if you hear him downstairs don’t worry.”

Of course he was, he was in love with her. You chuckled and then started to actually look for flights. “I probably won’t notice, honestly…” You scrolled through the flights and there was one. “Okay so here’s a flight, can you believe there’s actually one for tomorrow?”

She probably was looking for flights. “I found one too, shockingly enough… Are we really going through with this?”

Were you?

You were excited, scared but excited. “I think we are.”

“Well, alright then… “ She seemed to be rational yet.

“On three then….?” You asked, knowing this decision would probably change your entire life, not sure why. BUt you had a feeling that this was either the worst decision you’d ever made or the best one. This was the so-needed break you needed, you needed to breathe, and this was the perfect way to do so. Yes, this was unplanned and this was mysterious but this was what you needed an irrational decision.

“One…”She started.

“Two…”

“Three!” You said at the same time.

You’d bought the ticket. There was no going back now. You were going to London to a Stranger’s house for the Holidays.

sophia’s version <- REMEMBER TO READ TO KNOW WHAT’S UP WITH TOM. 

story masterlist.

next chapter

wanna be tagged?

i’m gonna use the taglist for perennial please tell me if you don’t want to be tagged. 

tag list  @spidxrparkxr​​​ @mukesnugget​​ @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover​​ @happywolves81​​   @happywolves81​​ @applenter​​ @silver-winter-wolf    @applenter​​ @claredolphinbear24​​ @bookgirlunicorn​​   @tomshufflepuff​​ @avengersgirllorianna​​ @nevertoofarfromivar​​ @saintlavrents​​ @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @tomzfrog​ @dark-infernal-instruments​​ @awkwardfangirl2014​​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​​  @tomzfrog​​  @xapham​​ @xapham​​ @xapham​​ @tomhollandisagod​​ @danicarosaline​​ @laurfangirl424​​ @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter​​   @the-lost-fairy-tale​​ @the-lost-fairy-tale​​ @lala-florez​​ @lala-florez​​    @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo​​ @socorroann​​ @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious​​ @southsidespideyy​​ @nathaliabakes​​ @nathaliabakes​​ @nathaliabakes​​ @embrace-themagic​​ @bradfordbantams​​ @sanniegirl1214​​ @softholand​​  @softholand​​ @fairytaleparker​​ @underooling​​ @griff1ndor​​ @griff1ndor​​ @thatweirdomimic​​ @avengersgirllorianna​​ @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy​​ @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman​​ @spider-manholland​​ @itstaskeen​​ @itstaskeen​​ @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes​​ @kissingtrutharchives​​  @snoopy3000​​ @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead​​ @officiallyunofficialperson​​ @mannien​ @whitewolfandthefox​​ @melodiclovesong​​ @bizzlepotter​​ @bizzlepotter​​  @localfangirlx​​ @acceptance07​​ @witchythingscore​​ @witchythingscore​​ @swaggyspiderman​​ @localfangirlx​​  @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees​​ @itsjusttor​​ @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend​​ @dangerousluv1​ @tomshufflepuff​​ @thewayilookatbacon​​ @petersdiaries @emjaywrites​​ @emjaywrites​​ @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash​ @quacksonhq​​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes​​ @desir-ae @desir-ae​ @desir-ae​ @peterporkpie​ @peterporkpie​ @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @quackeroos​ @spideyyeet​ @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid​ @astoldbydanid​ @hollandcreep​ @milly7110​ @milly7110​ @hollandcreep​ @rebekkah4766​ @farfromtommy​  @rubberducky-jrr​ @oh-whatabeautiful-parker​ @coveredinthemessimade​  @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster​ @thatdamjoke​ @annathesillyfriend​​ @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore​​ @witchythingscore​​ @bookworm06​  @bookworm06​  @lala-florez​ @lala-florez​ @chaoticpete​ @shezzalocked​ @ @chaoticpete​ @lowkey-love-loki​ @cosmicholland​ @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions​ @w4ybefor3nir4na @americaswritings​ @uglypastels​@ilovepeterparker13​ @lukesbabylon​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @simple-things​ @simple-things​ @sip-portteam​  @herondale-snow-carstairs​ @t-holland2080​​ @tony-starks-ego​​ @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland​​ @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker​​ @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash​​ @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac​​ @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout​​ @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou​​ @somethingchaotic​​  @heartofholland​​ @peachybloomss​​ @youcompletemesk​​ @emyla3305​ @emyla3305​​–butt  @hollandstanevans​​ @farfromtommy​​ @farfromtommy​​ @southbeachfeeling​​ @eridanuswave​​ @tonguetiedholland​​ @wolvesofthewinter​​ @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98​​ @ifntelyinspirit​​ @electraheart-3174​​ @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz​​ @harryssuckz​​ @xstarbae​ @xstarbae​​ @xstarbae​​ @peterbparkerrwrites​​   @averyfosterthoughts​​ @darethedragonknights​​  @hannahholland1811​​ @justanamesstuff​​ @emyla3305​​ @abbiefangirls247​​ @onewithnomightypowers​​ @itscaminow​​ @youllbemineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab  @spidey-holland-96​​ @awkwardnesshabitat​​ @geminiparkers​​@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious​​ @maybecharming​​ @where-art-thau-romeo​​ @viagracex​ @viagracex​​ @sspidermanss​​ @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive​​ @aleyabee​​ @aleyabee​​ @lovewolfspirit​​ @viagracex​​  @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid​​  @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind​​ @redhoodparker​ @redhoodparker​​ @cakepopcriss​ @allthisfortommy​​ @aleyabee​​ @perspectiveparker​​ @let-me-luve-you​​ @xxpeachyxo​​ @m-a-r-i-n-t-p​​ @superstarchick​​ @notjustpenandpaper​​ @morbiddanvers​​ @runaway3​​ @runaway3​​ @runaway3​​  @lu-morningstar​​ @th0ttie4tommy​​ @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip​​ @readheadwriter​​ @geesquariid​​ @noxceleste​​ @noxceleste​​   @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything​ @peterporkpie​​ @bookworm06​​ @panicattheeverywherekid​​ @imthefloor @ohmyquackson​​ @seaveyheartful​​ @wangtan-boys​​ @obiwanownsmyass​​ @sadisticfries​​ @not-some-docile-teenager​​ @galaxystern08​​ @lovemarvelousfics​​ @tomzfrog​​ @calsthomas​​ @thearchersupremacy​​ @nikitajackson @dayazenn​​ @the-fandom-life-forever​​ @just-kickin-ass​​ @quaksonhehe​ @dummiesshort​​ @samaratheweirdo​​ @fr3akingphantrash​​

[catlynhoss05]

Home Sweet Home Ch. 1 P. 3

Meeting The Farm Family!

*NOT MY GIF*

Pairing: OC!baureader x Emily Prentiss x Criminal Minds

~starts in season 4~ (also, check out the links to see what Remi’s abs look like and to see what her arms look like when she flexes as well.. The links are all on the HSH masterlist.) (Click here for song when cued)

Chapter Summary: After the team finishes up with the case and return back to Remi’s childhood home, the team are in for an eventful evening. However, when the following day comes around, Emily’s in for a BIG surprise that makes everyone -herself included- say, “ABOUT TIME!!!”

     After everyone had finished up with supper and the dishes were all cleaned up, Remi had excused herself so she could go and check the chickens. What Remi wasn’t expecting was that Asher had let the mean chicken -that only hated Remi- out of it’s cage to roam around the coop. The mean chicken liked everyone EXCEPT for Remi and Asher knew that. When she had left the house to go to the chicken coop, Asher turned back to the rest of the boys as everyone was just lounging around and started grinning like a fool.

     “Asher, not again. You do remember the last time you messed with her, right?” Benjamin asked with a smile. “Oh, I remember. I still have that scar, but it’s totally worth it though.” Asher laughed. The team looked at each other with confused looks. “What’s going on?” JJ asked. Before anyone could answer her question, everyone heard Remi scream for Asher, and she sounded BEYOND pissed. “Oh God. She’s pissed… Remove anything glass and/or any valuables and BACK UP.” Harris explained, him and his brothers grabbing every piece of glass that was in view and hurrying to put them out of the way before Remi came back inside. Once everyone was backed up out of harms way, Remi had appeared in the patio doorway covered in feathers, a few broken eggs, and some chicken feces. Her fists were tightly clenched, and her face was red, which Emily was really turned on by seeing Remi so riled up. “You bastard.” Remi muttered. “If you two are gonna fight, take it out back so you don’t get everything dirty.” Carol insisted.

     Nolan had pushed Asher out in the middle of the room to wait for his impending doom that is an angry Remi. “Rem-Remi, look. I am sorry, but we have not seen each other in a few months since you left for D.C. and I-I was just messing with you, okay? That’s just what we do.” Asher tried reasoning with his sister. However, that did not help much because that’s when Remi started charging at Asher, who decided to make a run for it out the front door. As Remi chased Asher around the house and to the back yard, everyone that was left in the house had all came out onto the patio to watch the scene. “So, uh… You two are okay with letting them fight it out?” Morgan asked Carol as they all looked on. “Since we have a total of 12 kids and Remi being the youngest and the only girl, we let them figure out their issues/problems that they have with each other on their own. Sometimes, depending on the situation, they fight it out and if the fights get way to out of hand, that’s when we have to intervene.” Carol explained, earning understanding nods from the team. 

     Remi had finally managed to tackle Asher in the middle of the yard and ended rolling together for a few seconds. Once they stopped rolling and were both laying in the yard on their backs, they started laughing and Remi had forgiven him. They both got up off the ground and made their way back up to the house. “Hey, hey… Both of you, shoes off before going inside the house. And take a shower after showing your team where they will be staying, Remington.” Joseph, Remi’s dad, ordered. After Asher and Remi kicked off their shoes, they had both followed everyone back inside the house. Remi went to grab her bags by the front door before turning to face the team to decide where everyone would be staying. “Okay, so I’ve thought about how the sleeping arrangements will be until Will, Henry, Jack and my doggo, Louisa, get here. So, until then, I have a double bed that has a mattress in my old room that is set up so JJ, Penelope and Emily can stay in there with me. You three ladies can borrow some of my old clothes and a pair of boots if needed. Uh, Hotch… You can stay in Asher and Eli’s old room. Rossi, you can stay in Sawyer’s old room. Derek, you can stay in Ryker’s old room and Spencer, you can stay Dallas’s old room.” Remi decided.

     Hotch and the team all came over and grabbed their bags from the entryway and followed Remi upstairs to the rooms. Once Remi showed the men to their rooms, she then led Emily, JJ and Penelope to her old room that was down at the end of the hallway. “Okay, here we are. Oh, and about that secret that I had mentioned about earlier.” She paused as she worked on picking the lock to her bedroom door. “Ha, there we go, got it.” She chuckled, standing back up and turning towards the 3 women. “I-I finally got the lock picked… Anyway, the reason why I had said that I would show you ladies that secret of mine is because, well…. Come in and see for yourselves.” Remi suggested with a smirk, opening the door, and walking into the room. Emily, JJ, and Penelope followed her into the room a bit cautiously; not knowing what to expect exactly. When they took in some of the contents that were hanging on the wall nearest to the doorway, they were not expecting what they were looking at. “Oh wow. This is your secret, Remi? A collection of awards, newspaper clippings, plaques, ribbons, pictures and big trophies?” JJ asked. “Well, sort of…” Remi trailed off.

     “What do you mean ‘sort of’?” Emily asked, confused. Penelope gasped after reading one of the many framed newspaper clippings on the wall, her gasp scaring Emily and JJ. “If you looked closely at the stuff on the wall, and I am quite sure that Penelope hit the jackpot on what my secret is, you would’ve read that I’m a two-time world record holder for bull riding. And before you ask what I mean when I said ‘two-time’, the first time that I broke the world record for bull riding was when I was 25 and the second time was when I was 29 and broke my first record time.” Remi explained to her female coworkers. JJ, Emily, and Penelope were all standing there in her room, starring at her with their mouths agape, as they tried to take in the information they were just told. “I’m also one of the top 5 best rodeo riders in the world.” Remi had finished explaining.

     “I have a question to ask, and they probably do as well. Anyway, I could not help but notice this newspaper article of yours that is about Saddle Bronc Riding. What is that exactly?” Penelope asked, pointing at the article on the wall. “Saddle Bronc Riding is, in a way, sort of like bull riding yet it’s not. Bull riding is where you are obviously on a bucking bull, where as Saddle Bronc Riding is where you are on a bucking horse, or a bronc horse, earning the name Saddle Bronc Riding. However, there’s also Bareback Bronc Riding which I personally think is more difficult then the other.” Remi chuckled. “That’s interesting and awesome.” Penelope and JJ laughed. “And fucking hot.” Emily admitted aloud, silencing the room for a few seconds before Penelope and JJ started laughing again and making Remi blush a deep red and become bashful.

     “That’s why my files are classified and why you couldn’t find any information on me or hack into my said files. Or even do a simple background check on me, Miss Penelope.” Remi laughed as she picked up her go-bag off the floor and putting it onto the cot bed. “How’d you know that I did that? Oh, and have you met any famous people?” The bubbly tech genius laughed as well as the other three women. “Honestly, I did not until you just admitted to doing so, but I did have my suspicions though. And yes, I have actually.” Remi laughed as she grabbed some clean clothes out of her bag before turning around to face Penelope. “Who all have you met, Remi?” Emily asked, setting her bags by the cot bed. “I have met George Strait a few times.” She smiled, then excused herself so she could go and shower before going to bed.

     After Remi had left the room to go and shower, Emily, JJ and Penelope had all changed into their pajamas for bed. When Emily had finished changing her clothes, she turned to face Penelope and JJ and sat down on the cot bed. “Why do you the two of you get the king-sized bed for?” She asked quietly. “Because we got to the bed before you did. Plus, you need to get a move on with the whole crush on Remi situation. And yes, that means sleeping in the same bed with her if that’s what it’s gonna take.” JJ whispered. After about 20 minutes or so and after everyone got ready for bed, Remi had returned to her room wearing only a white Calvin Klein sports bra, matching white Calvin Klein’s boy short underwear with only the waistband showing and gray sweatpants that rode a bit low on her hips. Her hair was damp and askew from her somewhat drying her hair with a towel. Emily was still sitting on the cot bed while JJ and Penelope had already gotten comfortable in the king size bed.

     Remi started to chuckle as she took in the state of the two in the king size bed. “I see that you two already made yourselves comfortable.” She laughed. “Well, it is pretty comfy.” Penelope laughed as well as JJ and Emily. Remi turned her attention back to her belongings that were still on the cot bed and moved them off the bed, setting them down in front of her closet. When she turned back to face Emily, she noticed that the raven-haired beauty was gawking at her and she smirked. “See somethin’ you like, Prentiss?” She asked as she moved a bit closer to Emily. “And if I do, are you gonna do something about it?” Emily quipped, leaning back onto her elbows on the cot bed. Remi just chuckled and moved to get a pair of socks to put on before getting into bed. “Are you gonna do anything, Remi?” JJ asked, wiggling her eyebrows at the young agent.

     Before Remi could do or say anything to JJ, they all heard some whispering coming from the other side of the closed bedroom door. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Every fucking time I have a girl in my room and the door just so happens to be closed.” Remi muttered, finishing putting her socks on before digging through her closet. “Nice looking ass you got there, Remington. But what are you looking for exactly?” Emily asked, hearing Remi bump her head on something and hearing her murmur a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breathe. “Aha, found it. And must you call me Remington?” Remi laughed as she pulled out her old red whip. “Wait, are you actually going to use that on them?” Penelope asked, sitting up in bed. “Oh, heavens no… You know how bad that would hurt them?” Remi asked. “They’re all scared of my whip. I would never hit anyone OR any animal with it. I only keep it around just to scare my brothers off if they’re buggin’ me.” Remi explained, walking over to her door quietly and made sure that the ladies stayed quiet.

     Remi opened her door and shouted ‘HEY’ at Colten, Oliver and Nolan who were eavesdropping on their sister and her female coworkers. The three boys took notice of the red leather whip that was in her hand and started to run back down the hallway and down the stairs as well. Remi started to laugh as she went back into her bedroom and closed the door. “Oh man. That was great and tickles me every time.” She smiled, walking back over to her closet, and putting her whip back in its place. “Hey Remi.” Penelope spoke up. “Yes?” “What is that on your inner left bicep?” She asked curiously. Remi lifted her left arm to see what the tech genius was talking about. “Oh, that’s just my birthmark.” She explained, yawning, and stretching her arms above her head. “I think it’s time for us to get some shut eye.

     Remi crawled onto the other side of the cot bed furthest away from the door since Emily already made herself comfortable. They all said their good nights to each other before drifting off into much needed sleep around 10 p.m.. Sometime around midnight, Remi had woken up because she had to go to the bathroom but had realized that she could not get up out of bed. “Uh, Emily?” She whispered. “Emily…” She whispered again but harshly this time. When the raven-haired beauty did not respond or make any attempt at moving off her, Remi decided to fix the problem herself. In one quick motion, Remi thought her plan would go smoothly as she wanted it to. And boy, was she wrong about that. She was hoping that she could smoothly roll Emily off her just enough for her to quickly jump up off the bed. However, when Remi had managed to roll Emily off her and back to her side of the cot, Emily started to wake up when Remi had her hips straddled with her knees and both of Remi’s hands on either side of her head.

     “Uh, hi.” Remi whispered nervously. “If we’re going to do this, Remi, we’re going to have to be fast and quiet.” Emily whispered, grinning up at Remi. “As much as I would love that right now, we can’t. Plus, you were sleeping on top of me, and I have to pee.” Remi chuckled, getting off Emily and making her way to the bathroom. Once she came back to her room, she closed the door and then crawled back into bed to go back to sleep. “Night, Em.” She whispered. Emily smiled sleepily at the nickname that she used. “Night, Remi.” Emily took in her coworker’s sleeping figure and absolutely wanted to devour every inch of her and to be devoured and loved by her as well. But she knew that it was not the time or place to do that. Around 4 a.m., Remi’s alarm on her phone started to go off, waking up the young agent. She hurried to grab her phone to turn off the alarm so it would not wake up the other 3 women.

     Once she got the alarm turned off, Remi carefully got out of bed and started to get dressed before leaving the bedroom, trying not to wake up her sleeping coworkers. As she made her way downstairs to get something to drink and to do a few morning stretches, she noticed all 11 of her brothers cuddled up together in the living room, chuckling to herself. Remi put on a pair of her old cowboy boots that she wears for whenever she’s home and works on the farm, grabs a few trays with a bunch of egg cartons on them and she heads out to collect eggs to make breakfast for everyone. About 2 and a half hours later, around 6:30 a.m. or so, Remi was relieved that she was finished with cleaning the chicken coop, feeding the chickens, and collecting eggs for breakfast for everyone. Grabbing the trays of filled egg cartons, she heads back to the house to start making some food. Remi kicks off her boots on the patio before entering the house and was greeted by a few of her brothers, Hotch, Rossi and Spencer awake and sitting at the island in the kitchen.

     “Good mornin’, carbon-based lifeforms.” Remi greeted, earning some groans from Spencer and Rossi. “Well okay then. I got some eggs to make for breakfast if y’all are hungry.” Remi offered, watching Reid, Hotch and Rossi perk up at the mention of food. “Got any coffee?” Hotch asked. “Pfft, who do you think I am!?” Remi and Hotch laughed. “Yeah, it’s over there on the counter.” She pointed out. The rest of the team, Remi’s brothers and her parents started to wake up and make their ways downstairs to the kitchen and out of the living room for some food and coffee. Everyone got a plate of food and some coffee before sitting around the kitchen and living room and enjoying a nice, hot meal together. After a while when everyone was finished and just sitting around talking and drinking coffee, Sawyer spoke up from his seat on the couch. “So, Remi.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “What, Sawyer?” She called out as she was filling up her coffee mug.

     “When are you gonna make your move?” He asked, everyone else also chiming in. “What move?” Emily asked confused. Everyone, including Remi’s parents, were smiling at Remi, and waiting for her to say something. Remi came into view of everyone from the kitchen, looking like a nervous wreck. “Uh…” She cleared her throat. “We can do it now if that’s alright with everyone.” She suggested, getting a ‘yes’ from everyone except for Emily. Emily was sitting at the island along with JJ and Penelope while the rest of the team and Remi’s brothers were sitting around on the 2 sectionals in the living room. Remi came over and stood in front of Emily with something behind her back. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Emily asked, making everyone laugh. “No, I’m not gonna kill you… I have a surprise for you though. Well, technically two surprises. Anyway, these are for you.” Remi smiled, revealing a bouquet of beautiful red roses, and handed them to Emily. “Oh my gosh, these are gorgeous flowers, Remi. Thank you.” Emily smiled.

     It was still noticeable that the raven-haired beauty was still confused on what the second surprise was going to be. Remi smiled, offering her hand to Emily. “C’mere. I still have that second surprise for you.” Emily took her hand and followed her over to the grand piano that was in the den. There was also a violin, a drum set and an acoustic guitar that were also set up in the den as well. Remi had motioned to Harris, Elijah, and Wyatt to come over as well. Remi had pulled out the piano bench and had let Emily sit down first before sitting down next to her. Once the three boys were ready for Remi’s cue, she had slightly turned to face Emily before they started playing. “Emily, I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since the moment we had officially met the moment you had accidently spilled your ridiculously hot coffee all over my shirt on my first day at the BAU.” Remi explained, laughing at the memory. She turned her body back to face the piano. “Emily Prentiss, this song is for you.” Remi smiled.

(Cue Song)

(Harris plays violin; Elijah plays drums; Wyatt plays guitar; Remi obviously sings/plays piano)

You don’t have to go now, honey

Call and tell ‘em you won’t be in today

Baby, there ain’t nothin’ at the office

So important it can’t wait

I’m thankful for the weekend

But two days in heaven just ain’t gonna do

This is gonna take forever, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

 What’s the point in fightin’ what we’re feelin’

We both know we’ll never win

Ain’t this what we’re missin’

Let’s just stop all this resistin’ and give in

Let me wrap my arms around you

You know you don’t want to leave this room

Come back and let me hold you, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

   Everyone, especially Emily, were all enjoying hearing Remi and her brothers sing and play the song. They’re also relieved that Remi finally had told Emily how she felt about her and was finally doing something about it.

What can I say, I’ve never felt this way

Girl, you’re like a dream come true

After all the love we’ve made

It sure would be a shame

If we let this moment end so soon

So won’t you lay back down beside me

Girl, just like I know you’re wantin’ to

Trust me when I tell you, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

 I ain’t gonna stop

Oh yeah

 What can I say, I’ve never felt this way

Girl, you’re like a dream come true

After all the love we’ve made

It sure would be a shame

If we let this moment end so soon

 I’m thankful for the weekend

But two days in heaven just ain’t gonna do

This is gonna take forever, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

Come back and let me hold you, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

 Gonna hang out all week long

Laughing, loving, kissing, hugging baby

      After they finished the song, Remi turned herself so that she’s facing Emily and her cheeks started to turn pink as well as the tips of her ears. “So, will you be my girlfriend, Emily?” She asked bashfully. “Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend and it’s about time you asked.” Emily laughed as well as everyone else. Remi beamed, cupping Emily’s face in her hands and leaning forward a bit to kiss her sweetly. Everyone started to cheer, and Penelope decided to shout, “ABOUT TIME!!!” The new couple broke apart from each other and started laughing at Penelope’s excitement when she shouted. Remi and Emily had both stood up from the piano and moved so Remi could put the bench back where it was before exiting the den. They stopped in front of the team when Hotch spoke up. “You both do realize that you’re going to have to go Strauss and tell her, right?” Hotch asked in all seriousness. “Yeah, about that. She already knows.” Remi smirked. “How does she already know about you two getting together?” Hotch asked, clearly confused as his eyebrows furrowed together as everyone else’s did too.

     “Remember that rare sighting of Strauss smiling and being nice to me last week?” Remi asked. “Yeah.” Rossi spoke up. “That’s because she had pulled me into her office and asked when I was going to ask Emily out. And how do y’all think we got 2 weeks of paid vacation time to spend here in Nashville after the case?” Remi chuckled, receiving shocked looks from everyone including Hotch. “For some odd reason, Strauss actually likes me. I don’t know why though.” Remi paused. “And don’t get any ideas about having me asking her for more paid vacations… MORGAN.” Hotch and Rossi laughed, watching Derek putting his hands up in surrender.

     It was around 8:30/9:00 a.m. when there was a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it.” Colten said, getting up from his spot on one of the sectionals. Everyone else was just sitting around together enjoying each other’s company for the time being. Remi and Emily were sitting together on a couple bar stools at the island in the kitchen. “You know, the way that you’re sitting right now is giving me the perfect view down the front of your shirt.” Remi grinned happily, making Emily blush a little bit. “See anything you like!?” Emily asked teasingly. “Oh, very much so.” Remi played along, leaning into kiss Emily. Before the two could kiss, Colten came back into the living room – there is a big opening that connects the kitchen and living room together – and had a few guests with him. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in.” Colten chuckled, moving out of the way to show everyone that Will, Henry, Jack and Louisa had arrived.

     JJ, Hotch and the rest of the team had gotten up off the couch to greet them. “Louisa… Hey sweet girl.” Remi called out as she crouched down so she could greet her dog. Louisa practically ran over and jumped into Remi’s arms and immediately started giving her kisses. “Okay, okay. That’s enough for now. Can you sit?” Remi asked, watching Louisa do what she asked. Remi stood back up and turned to Emily who was smiling at her. “Should I be jealous!?” She asked sarcastically. Remi rolled her eyes at her girlfriend with a smirk. “Emily and the rest of the team, this is my 2-year-old German Shepard, Louisa… Louisa, this is my team that I told you about and this is Emily.” Remi said. “Louisa, can you say hi to everyone?” Louisa barked and nudged Emily’s leg with her paw. “She wants you to shake.” Remi smiled.

     “Hi, Louisa. I’m Emily… I’m your mom’s girlfriend and coworker.” The raven-haired beauty smiled, shaking the dog’s paw. As Louisa made her way around the room to each team member – also including Jack, Henry and Will – to shake hand and paw, Will looked between Remi and Emily before turning to JJ. “Wait, girlfriend?” He asked, earning a nod from everyone. “About time the two of you finally got together.” He laughed.

[tuffduff]

We Could Be Real (Axl Rose x Reader)

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Words: 1,763

Request: @rumyapricotprincess:  Hi can you write axl x reader where they are best friends but he has secretly liked her and when she has a heart break because of a random guy he consoles her and eventually she learns his feeling?:))

A/N: Thank you for this request hun, I love this prompt! I actually quite like how this turned out, I hope y’all do too!  🖤🖤🖤

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @the--blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​

“Y/N? Say something, you’re fucking scaring me.” You sniffled again against the receiver pressed to your ear, your hand over your mouth in a desperate effort to hold back the tears before they started. You were so lost it hurt to breathe, and your only instinct was to call your best friend. But once his voice actually came through, you couldn’t get a single word out. “Hold the fuck up, are you crying?” Axl demanded when a small audible sob escaped you. “It was that motherfucking son of a bitch, wasn’t it? I’ll be there in five minutes.” The dial tone met your ears. You stood in place for a moment, your head spinning by how quickly the night had taken a turn for the worst. 

Knowing Axl was probably getting close, you walked out the front door to your apartment and sat down on the steps outside your door. Underneath the amber glow of the nearby streetlights, you watched a few teardrops stain the concrete before quickly drying in the summer heat, your chin resting in your hands. Already, the pain was beginning to leave and now all you felt was a tired emptiness.

“Are you trying to get taken by someone now?” Axl’s gentle but stern voice made you look up. When he saw your face, it looked as though two emotions were fighting for the right to control his features; his jaw clenched visibly and fury burned in his eyes. “Y/N, he isn’t worth your tears.” His voice, though, was tender and low. He climbed up the steps and sat down next to you and put his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. The smell of cigarettes comforted you and you watched your tears leave drops on his jeans now.

“I know he isn’t. But you still feel stupid when someone cheats on you.” Axl stiffened next to you, but his hand on your shoulder remained light.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He decided.

“He isn’t worth the prison sentence.” You sniffed. “But now it’s just...I feel so dumb. I’m embarrassed of myself. I knew I should’ve ended it a long time ago; I never should’ve given him a chance to begin with. Go ahead and say ‘I told you so.’” You said to Axl.

When you started dating this new guy, you and Axl had actually gotten into an argument over it. Axl had told you he was just a man whore and it was only a matter of time until he cheated. You and Axl didn’t talk for nearly a month because of it. And over what? A cheating idiot, just like Axl predicted. All that time wasted all because a naive part of you didn’t want to believe it and wanted to think that you were different.

“It’s not like I wanted you to get hurt.” Axl finally responded. “I just had a feeling about him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the idiot for thinking I was something special.” You shared your thoughts with Axl. “That I was actually different.”

“Hey,” Axl scolded you now, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards him. “You are special. Why do you think I got so pissed when you said you were giving that fucker a chance?”

“Obviously, I’m not, or I wouldn’t have gotten cheated on.”

“That’s all on that dumb fuck, it has nothing to do with you!” Axl yelled, shades of his notorious temper driving his voice louder with passion. You frowned at him now, watching as he shook his head with annoyance, the way someone would when a fly buzzed by too many times. “Y/N, you’re so fucking special it scares me.” 

“What do you mean?” You murmured quietly. A long silence hung in the air between the two of you, the only sound filling the air were the nighttime crickets and distant cars on a busier street with the occasional honk.

Axl finally snorted, maybe at whatever thought he currently had, before he shook his head again and idling pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “You’re one of those girls that...anyone with sense can see he’s in deep shit when he looks at you. It’s like, oh fuck. Goner. It’s like, one look in those eyes and you start imagining, you know, that kinda life that people only hope for. House, kids, the picket fence, the shiny ring. Peace.” His voice was low, much gentler than his prickling barbs of anger just moments prior. Contemplative, fleeting, wispy thoughts that almost felt as though you weren’t even supposed to be hearing. He pulled the lighter from his pocket and finally lit the cigarette that had been dangling between his lips. “You’re one of those girls that becomes a song, a fantasy. You keep singing it every night, living out that daydream and before you know it, ten—twenty years pass and then you go, damn. She was really something special. Maybe I could’ve actually had that.” Finally, he looked at you as he blew out a big cloud of smoke before he offered the cigarette to you.

Normally, you didn’t smoke, but the night seemed to call for it and you took a shaky drag. You coughed slightly and became aware of the tears now just a halfway dry trail on your face, and Axl’s blurry shape in your peripheral vision. You passed the cigarette back to him.

“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.” You finally replied carefully, turning to see his reaction.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged a little as his eyes studied the empty road in front of you, before he gave you sideways look and something of a half-smirk. “Ever since I laid eyes on you.”

You thought about the implication of his words, no, the confession within them. You thought about your own memory of the first time you met Axl, already a shooting star, already something special even if the rest of the world didn’t quite know it yet. From the very beginning, he always felt like something unobtainable, so you tried your best not to ever entertain the thought. But, now, this? Axl, fantasizing about a domestically blissful life with you?

“Axl...why didn’t you ever tell me?” Your heartbreak was nearly forgotten now, but the spinning delirium from before was back as the landscape of your life began shifting. If you woke up back in your room in a minute, that would make more sense than the jumble of reality in front of you.

Axl shrugged again, looking down at the ground.

“It’s not like girls like that—a girl like you—is ever gonna be happy with someone like me. That’s not how the fairytales work. I’ve got a lot of baggage, I’ve been through stupid shit, you know that. I’ve got more in common with strippers and the homeless guy I passed on my way here.”

“Oh yeah?” You challenged now. “Because I’m pretty sure next to my coworkers, you’re the person I spend most of my time with. If we have nothing in common, how come we never run out of things to talk about? How can we talk for hours about dreams and if they’re worth it and if we think God is real and how much our parents suck if there’s nothing in common? Or is that something you chat about with the strippers too?” He stood up, now looking at you defensively.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m the only one keeping shitty company, need I remind you about what happened tonight; you weren’t ever interested! I’m not gonna say something stupid and then lose you over it!”

“Axl..!” You groaned in exasperation, standing too. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you and I, how many times I’ve had to stop myself, how many times I’ve had to tell myself no. Because you’re you. You’re Axl Rose, you could have anyone...” he shook his head.

“The more people I meet, the more I realize they’re all the same, and it all just…circles back to you.” He stared at you outright, facing you head on. “We all just want something real, at the end of the day.” You stared back at him.

“Real.” You whispered, your eyes trailing upwards to look at your apartment building and the stars in the sky over it. “Remember when you put my address down when you applied at that shitty record store? It was literally maybe three days after we first met.” You heard Axl chuckle a little. You still got his mail, even though he had moved into his own place, a nice house, the first place he had ever owned. “Axl, you’re my best friend, and I love you—"

“I get it, Y/N.” Axl muttered. When you looked away from the stars and back to him, he was already walking down the steps to leave. “You don’t have to say it, I already know what you’re gonna say; I don’t want to ruin the friendship either. That’s why I always kept my mouth shut.” He just kept walking down the steps, away from you, as he spoke. “I’ll just go, I’ll give you a few days—” 

You took the steps by two down after him and grabbed him by his shoulders to turn him around and press your lips against his.

After a moment, he began kissing you back, his hands latching into your hair like a clip. And for the first time, with your heart fluttering in a dizzy euphoria frenzy, you allowed yourself to freely imagine it, unrestrained. Kissing these lips when you felt like it, forever if you wanted. Turning in bed and slipping into the mold of his body, having his comfort on every bad day. You with him, you and him, that untouchable idea no longer just a figment of your strongest desires.

“You were putting words in my mouth.” You finally said breathlessly as you pulled back.

“You were putting something else in mine.” Axl teased, and you laughed, leaning your forehead against his.

“We don’t have to ruin this.” You told him, growing serious again and peaking up into his eyes through your eyelashes. “We can have this; it doesn’t have to be a daydream.” Axl was holding his breath, maybe out of fear, maybe out of nervousness. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to convince him of your words. “If we want it, we can.”

Finally, he locked his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek. “I want you.” He agreed. “I’ve always wanted this.”

[trustsn01]

Avatrice Short 41

“Ava, this is your soulmate Beatrice. Beatrice, this is your soulmate, Ava.”

Ava didn’t think twice about the place. Sure, she did wonder what they were talking about when they listed all these supposedly “good deeds” she’d done when she was alive. As far as Ava knew, she’d been dealt with one bad luck after another and this was her due. The good life from the good place. 

A soulmate though?

She didn’t think that was remotely real. To be fair, her soulmate looked easy on the eyes at least. Her morals though? Ugh. Beatrice looked like she hasn’t had much fun in her life. Ava could show her. 

Or maybe she could focus first on ensuring she didn’t lose her spot in this place. 

Oh. Beatrice could help, right?

Right. Her soulmate. Surely she was obligated to help Ava out lest they get separated—and wouldn’t that go against the whole point of having soulmates?

Don’t fall in love with her. 

That was her first thought when Ava was introduced to her. She was in the good place precisely because she kept true to her faith and avoided all temptations. She knows she did well. Heaven surely wouldn’t lord someone like Ava over her secret while she was alive. Would they?

You can’t fall in love with her.

A fraud. How fitting, Beatrice thought.

Ava wasn’t who she was supposed to be and yet despite all her bad habits and tendency to leave chaos in her wake...

Maybe they do deserve each other, Beatrice mused. A fraud for a fraud.

Because as hard as she thought she couldn’t and wouldn’t—Beatrice was falling.

This IS the Bad Place!

Maybe this was the whole point of the Bad Place. It is meant to punish, was it not?

“I don’t want to forget you.” Beatrice held tight on to Ava’s hand.

Ava shook her head. “I don’t want to forget you either.”

“I wonder how many times have we been here. In this moment. About to lose each other and about to be introduced to another life we’re supposed to live for eternity with someone else.”

 “Ava this is your soulmate, Lilith.”

“Hell, no!”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Ava, that is rude. You’ve yet to get to know Lilith.” Adriel smiled at Ava. But Ava knew something wasn’t right. And by the look on Lilith’s face, she knew it too.

“Beatrice, this is your soulmate, Teresa.”

“Hi.” Teresa held out her hand while her other hand consciously ran through her hair.

“There must be a mistake.” Beatrice whispered. 

Adriel cocked an eyebrow in her direction, letting her know her words were audible.

“I’m sorry. I think...I just don’t think she’s...mine.” Beatrice faltered at first, but grew stronger especially with the last word.

 “I refuse to believe this is where we’re meant to be. God or whatever can’t be this cruel.” Ava held on just as tightly. She looked at the woman beside her as they looked at the setting sun. In awhile, Adriel would surely catch on to them once more.

“When I was alive, I tried so hard to be everything my parents wanted me to be. I did everything right. When I thought I’d found the love of my life, I rejected her because I thought it was wrong. That what I felt was wrong.”

“Do you still believe that?” Ava asked, heart in her throat as she waited for an answer.

“Yes.” Ava felt her heart break right as Beatrice looked into her eyes. She meant to pull away but Beatrice pulled her closer. “Only because what I feel for you eclipses anything I ever thought I felt for her. And THAT can’t be wrong. We aren’t a mistake. I refuse to believe that.”

 “There you two lovebirds are.” 

The voice surprised them both. Caught unaware, Ava nearly stumbled but Beatrice caught her with both arms and that was how they faced off the despicable man in their midst.

Ava in Beatrice’s arms.

“Wow, I must admit it took a little bit longer to find you two this time around.” Adriel chuckled.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Ava hissed.

“I beg to differ, Ava. I can actually keep doing this. I mean...what’s it been? If we’re going on your petty human measurements, I dare say we’ve been at this for 25 years.”

Both women’s eyes widen in a mix of horror and fear.

“I can keep doing this. Forever if need be. I mean, you two make it even more interesting to be honest. Best assignment ever!” Adriel laughed out loud.

“You’re punishing us for what? For loving each other? Is that it?” Beatrice felt the tears but struggled to hold on to them. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of her pain.

Adriel stopped laughing and looked at them curiously. He tilted his head slightly to the side and stared at them.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said. “In awhile, you both wouldn’t even remember any of these.” He raised his hand, ready to snap his fingers for the nth time.

“You can’t keep us apart.” Ava warned, her eyes seeking the other woman’s as she spoke the words.

Beatrice nodded solemnly. “No one can.”

Adriel paused. 

“Are you saying the big man himself can’t keep you two apart?”

The question took them aback. Ava looked at Adriel and saw his focus completely on Beatrice.

Beatrice froze.

Could she? Does she dare doubt?

She felt her fingers being squeezed and her eyes returned to focus on the woman in her arms.

“I...” Beatrice started. “If He is in fact everything I’ve been taught He is to be...He wouldn’t keep us apart. He would love me—us—exactly as we are.”

Adriel switched his focus to Ava. “You think you deserve the likes of Beatrice? You were hardly worth ANYTHING when you ended up here.” He casually pointed at Beatrice with his thumb. “At least her biggest sin was being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Ava tensed and struggled to disengage from Beatrice’s hold. “You can keep on talking shit about me for the rest of fucking eternity but you WILL NOT call Beatrice names!”

“Ava, no!” Beatrice moved to stand in front of Ava as she glared at Adriel. 

“Ava may not have been the kindest when she was living. But she was HONEST. Life dealt her pain and suffering and she knew no better. No one gave taught her how. No one gave her a chance. And she’s done so much since she’s been here. She tried to do better and she’s done just that! It’s just you and the likes of you who seem hellbent on continuing to punish her even now.”

Adriel took a seat on a nearby tree stump, crossed his arms, and offered them a  smirk.

“This is new.”

Beatrice frowned at him in confusion, though still wary to let her guard down around him.

He waved his hand about in a way that belied his interest as he spoke. “All this time, the two of you ended up here. Again and again and again. Different ways, but ultimately the same.”

He yawned, placed his hands above him as if stretching out his limbs.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I could do this forever, but you two were seriously beginning to depress me.”

“What?” Ava was the first to give in to the confusion.

“You,” he pointed at the slightly taller woman, causing both to tense in preparation for some sort of attack. “kept on lying to yourself. Pretending to be something and someone you’re not. Let’s not even touch upon the things you know about your parents but turned a blind eye and kept on believe otherwise because it’s what was comfortable. It’s what hurt less.”

In a split second, memories flashed through Beatrice’s head about meetings in the middle of the night, her parents’ guests and the subtly armed men that followed, the money she knew they shouldn’t have but they do. 

“You know about the lives that were ruined because of your family. But you didn’t do anything, did you? And the woman who thought you loved her...oh, she paid the ultimate price.” Adriel wagged a finger in Beatrice’s direction.

“You knew about her being an undercover agent because she trusted you. Trusted you to do the right thing.”

“Bea?” Ava’s voice rang through the tension-filled air but Beatrice barely heard her.

“You rejected her. And yet, despite her feelings of pain, she did her job because it’s what was right. Hell, she even tried to save you.”

The memories of how she did finally began to make sense.

“You called her a liar. In the middle of it all you dared to call her a liar. I mean, not to make fun of my man Peter at the gate but damn. He had nothing on you the way you denied her findings in front of her coworkers, but also denied even knowing her and testimony she was counting on you to disclose about your folks.” Adriel slowly clapped in obvious mockery.

“Tell me, do you think you still deserve anything at this point? Let alone a chance with this girl? Or anyone, really.” This time, he gestured towards Ava with a jut of his chin.

[spencers-renaissance]

Vivaldi on Full Volume

Summary: Spencer's done enough pining, so he decides to write a letter for Aaron telling him exactly how he feels and gives it to him on the jet. He cannot be held responsible for what happens when they land.

Tags: Love Confessions, Fluff, Getting Together, Insecurity, My Typical CM Characterisation: Protective Aaron, Shy Spencer oops

Pairing: Hotch/Reid

Word Count: 5.2k

Read on Ao3

The Love Letter, Uninterrupted

Spencer’s hands are shaking as he gets up from his seat in the corner of the jet. They’re 40 minutes away from landing, deliberately planned well in advance: everyone’s well and truly settled, there isn’t long to wait for a private conversation and people haven’t woken up to prepare for landing yet. This is well thought out, he tells himself, trying to be convincing. There isn’t much that can go wrong.

Except there absolutely is. He’s run all the possible outcomes over and over in his head, at night, on the jet, spare moments in cases; he knows pretty much every possibility in and out. The worst case scenario, of course, is Aaron flips and hurts him or never talks to him again, but he knows logically that this is unlikely. No, the most likely situation is a polite rejection and a rift in their relationship, but it’s a risk he has to take. This limbo is too painful to exist in forever: he has to give himself a chance at happiness, and if that doesn’t happen he needs a chance to get over him. 

Aaron is, predictably, sitting on his own at the other end of the jet, getting a head start on his paperwork. He’d shot Spencer a questioning look when he’d opted to sit on his own instead of opposite or next to him, but everyone knows that Spencer sometimes needs a moment to himself and after he’d responded with a reassuring smile, Aaron had smiled back and looked down. 

“Reid,” he greets him as he looks up from the plethora of forms and files and reports littering the table in front of him, that questioning look returning and bleeding into his voice. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks after Spencer stands there frozen for a moment, shaking him out of his head and reminding him of his mission. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he says softly, chuckling a little. “Here. Can you do me a favour and… read this for me? All the way to the end? Leave your questions for the end, and we can talk once we land.” He hands him the pretty stationery wrapped in a tissue paper envelope. The seal is a deep navy that had reminded Spencer of Aaron the moment he saw it in the shop, and he used it even though he knew it would tear the tissue and was utterly pointless. His hands still shake a little as he passes it over, but he doesn’t blame himself. Anyone would be nervous. This isn’t just a Spencer thing.

Once Aaron has the letter in his hands he turns it, looking it over, before meeting Spencer’s anxious gaze with his own steady one, now filled with growing curiosity. “Of course,” he says, indulgently. It’s one of Spencer’s favourite things about him, his stoicism in the face of a surprise. He doesn’t react in a way that might further upset somebody when they share something with him, and it makes him an excellent leader. 

Spencer shoots him another nervous but meaningful smile, the kind he uses with his friends, with Henry, with people he cares about. People he’s been in love with for five years. Whatever. 

He turns away and doesn’t look back.

★

Aaron struggles to contain his curiosity long enough to wait until Spencer is settled back in his seat on the other side of the plane. This must be why he’d chosen to sit somewhere other than next to him on this flight which had admittedly confused him a little, Spencer usually liked the familiarity and comfort of sitting next to him. He’d suspected he needed space but now it seems as though he was psyching himself up to hand this letter to him. 

It’s not a resignation letter, Aaron is fairly certain of that, Spencer would never use such beautiful stationery and a seal in his favourite colour for something so straightforward and professional. He’d also given him one of those heart-warmingly open and trusting smiles before turning back, even if it was a little anxious. This is something personal. 

Finally giving into his curiosity, he carefully opens the handmade envelope and pulls out the letter written on high-quality paper in Spencer’s delicate script. 

Aaron,

I have debated sitting down and putting pen to paper to write this letter for a long time, much less handing it to you to read. This is perhaps the most forward thing I have ever done, and you will understand that it is also the bravest. I know I am crossing a line in writing this. I have never been one to break the rules, it's something we have in common, isn't it? We're both straight arrows. Perhaps I am hoping for too much. I am not the object of many's desire and maybe it is foolish to hope that someone as amazing as you could possibly be the exception, but if I don't get it out of my system I'm afraid this secret may bubble up and swallow me whole, its acidic aftertaste never quite leaving my mouth.

Immediately, Aaron’s heart starts beating out of his chest. Spencer rarely calls him Aaron -- the whole team operates on a largely last-name only basis -- but he’d be lying if those infrequent times when his first name leaves Spencer’s lips don’t make his heart flutter and insides warm. His face betrays him, he knows, but this might just be everything he’s been hoping to hear for the last four years and the team is asleep or preoccupied right now, thanks to Spencer’s clearly well-planned timing. He can afford to let his guard down a little.

His stomach clenches, though, when he sees Spencer’s insecurity bleeding into his writing, the ink revealing his painful self-doubt where his lips keep them tightly sealed away. He’s absolutely everything Aaron is craving, and if others can’t see that then it’s their own loss. He knows, though, that Spencer is too oblivious for his own good: the rest of the team don’t miss the looks he gets when they go out for drinks, but Spencer does. Spencer could get anyone he wants, even if he doesn’t realise it, and the honour of being the chosen person isn’t lost on him.

The truth of the matter is we live dangerous lives. This plane could crash, one of us could get shot, stabbed, blown up and not survive it next time. I need to take advantage of the fact that right now we are alive, and if there is any chance that I could live my life alongside yours then I must take it.

That makes Aaron let out a small, breathy laugh. He’d thought the same exact thing so many times, but Spencer was a lot braver than he was. Even if it didn’t have the potential for a sexual harrassment suit and the loss of his job, he’s not sure he’d have the bravery to tell Spencer just how in love with him he is. Not in a letter written with a fountain pen on pretty stationery, not to his face, not in front of others, not alone. Spencer has guts he’d lost a long time ago. A risky job had led to a tightly controlled personal life. He plays it safe. Spencer doesn’t.

Here is what I want:

I want to throw caution to the wind and live vicariously with you. Let's eat pancakes for dinner, drive down the interstate with the windows down and listen to Vivaldi on full volume, let's hold hands in the street in Virginia and say fuck it to anybody who has a problem with it. I want to get stuck in your head the way you're stuck in mine: when you're doing paperwork, I want to be in the back of your head. I want to excite you when you think of me naked, when you think of me spread out beneath you. Not a moment goes by where I don't think of you, Aaron. I wish I was on your mind in the same way.

Aaron’s face breaks out into a much wider smile. Oh, God, Spencer, he thinks, sending his eyes to the ceiling of the jet. You have no idea. Spencer doesn’t have to wish for this, to crave such a thing, it’s already happening. It feels like paperwork takes twice as long as it used to do before he fell in love with Spencer. It’s not even limited to his job: doing laundry, washing the dishes, cooking dinner, driving Jack to a soccer match, watching TV -- everything he does is consumed by thoughts of Spencer.

And Jesus Christ have mercy, the thought of Spencer spread out naked beneath him, what he looks like under those conservative button ups and cardigans, plays out behind his eyelids far too often. It’s made him feel like a pervert for years, fantasising about his much younger coworker and wondering what he likes in bed, how he could make him feel good. The idea that the same thoughts about him fill Spencer’s brain has him weak at the knees and hot under the collar. Of course he chose the jet to do this, he thinks amusedly. 

Let's find new TV shows and movies together! There's nothing I'd like more than to cuddle up against your chest after a hard case and watch something that we both enjoy, that gives us a sense of comfort and familiarity. On the weekends, let's get dressed up and visit fancy restaurants only to have a cheap crepe at the end of the night before rushing back home to get undressed again. I want to be yours, and I want you to prove that to the world.

Aaron’s heart is melting slowly, dripping down the inside of his chest, he’s sure of it. He’s walked into his apartment after a hard case feeling empty and defeated, wishing Spencer was there to give him a hug and take away the pain far too many times. It only ever made him feel worse, the belief that that would never happen, it never could happen, only now he’s being proved wrong. 

He already knows the first place he’ll take Spencer. Rossi had treated him to dinner there once after Haley passed away, and the ambience and seafood paella had wedged itself firmly into his mind. He’d fantasised many times about how Spencer’s eyes would look in the soft lighting, how he’d laugh in the relaxed setting, how he’d feel spoiled and loved when Aaron footed the bill, ignoring his protests. His heart feels full and bursting at the thought that soon these ideas might not be as far-fetched as he’d convinced himself for so long. He wishes he could see Spencer right now, but he knows he’s probably panicking quietly in the corner, and he was told to save his questions for the end. He’ll play on his terms, especially since it was Spencer who’d had the bravery to do this in the first place.

My biggest fear in writing this letter, though, may not be that you simply won't return my affections, but that you're still in love with Haley. I could never seek to replace her, but I know how deeply you loved her and how painful the wounds of your grief still are. I hope you know, Aaron, that if you do love me back, I'm not jealous of Haley. Not at all. I respect her and I respect your grief.

He can’t help the stab of pain in his gut at the mention of Haley. He’d loved her so deeply and he knew the team was acutely aware of that, Spencer probably more than anybody else if this letter was anything to go by. It strikes him then, just how kind Spencer is. He’s always known it on some level, of course, but the selfless compassion and love for the people around him is so overwhelming when he takes a moment to properly comprehend it. He could have glossed over his late wife in such a letter, but instead he chose to promise Aaron that he could share his heart with Haley. He knows Spencer will keep such a promise. 

I've tried for years to hide the way I feel, Aaron. I went on dates to try and get over you, I dodged you in the break room and bullpen to avoid conversing with you which only made my infatuation worse each time, I feigned plans to get out of family nights because seeing you in a casual setting is so cuttingly painful. I can't hide it anymore, though. I'd rather transfer out of the BAU than continue in this limbo of awkward pining. If you hate me, that's okay, I can deal with that. But there isn't much I don't know, and not knowing this? It's agonising.

Aaron’s stomach clenches again. He wishes they hadn’t been pining all these years so Spencer didn’t have to exist in the parallel of his own realm of wistful agony. The thought of him avoiding him in the break room with the empty ache of unrequited love filling his insides, believing he could never have him when Aaron had been doing the same thing is almost laughable: they were both so oblivious.

Seeing Spencer dressed in jeans and a t-shirt last year when Morgan had invited them all to one of his renovation projects had tortured him for weeks afterwards, and now he was being told that he’d done the same to him; Spencer had gone home after those gatherings and thought about him casual and relaxed, unbuttoned polo shirts and all. It’s almost unbearable. 

It’s reassuring, though, to know Spencer is as committed to this hypothetical as he is. Aaron would leave the BAU, too, if it came to it. If it meant he got to come home to Spencer and cuddle him on the sofa with history documentaries playing on the TV that Spencer was subconsciously memorising and would repeat the next time it was even slightly relevant in conversation. If it meant he could smile knowingly, and wrap an arm around his oblivious boyfriend’s waist, proving to the world that Spencer was his, just like he asked. 

The only way to end this letter is with hope. Any answer you give me I will respect, but I am holding out hope that you will say all this back to me, that you will write your own love letter or profess your own love. That you have similar fantasies and daydreams about me, that you've thought of all these things, too. Thank you for reading this all the way through, Aaron. All that's left to say are five simple words:

I'm in love with you.

Spencer.

Aaron reads the letter over once more before folding it carefully and placing it back in the envelope. He’s completely floored, to be honest. The last thing he expected after a fairly straight-forward case in Seattle was a love confession from the man he’d been in love with since before Haley even passed away, but he’s going to take it and run with it, consequences be damned. 

The plane starts to descend and the rest of the team begin rousing from their naps or putting their books down as chatter starts to rise. “Right,” Aaron says, grabbing everyone’s attention, though Spencer keeps himself carefully tucked away in the corner. “We should have the next few days off though we are on standby, okay? Everyone get some rest, make sure you come back refreshed and ready to tackle the next case. Don’t forget your reports though, have them emailed to me or on my desk by Monday.” He gives everyone a tight smile before turning away as conversations resumed. 

He knows Spencer is tormenting himself by analysing every cadence in his voice, trying to gauge his reaction and he longs to walk over to him and kiss his anxieties away, but he can’t. Spencer specifically asked him to wait until they landed, and he can’t reveal anything to the team so early, certainly not without discussing it first. Instead, he sits back in his seat, abandoning the paperwork in front of him in favour of fighting the fond, excited smile off his face and imagining his first kiss with Spencer, the anticipation making it so much more intense now that it’s actually real.

Time, as it always does, passes, however slowly. They eventually land and Aaron schools his face as the rest of the team pour out onto the tarmac. “Right everyone, I’ll see you in a few days but keep your phones on in case we get called up,” he calls once they’re all off the plane. As everyone starts to peel off to the garage or the office, he turns to Spencer, still keeping his face straight for the sake of others around them. “How about we go to my place and talk.”

“That sounds good,” Spencer says, small smile taking the edge off the anxiety on his face. 

★

The car ride back to Aaron’s apartment is quiet. “I don’t need to pick Jack up until the morning, so it’s just us tonight,” he explains, and Spencer is relieved to see his face soften significantly now they’re alone. He allows a dash of hope to flare in his chest before forcing himself to temper his expectations. You don’t know anything yet. He could be letting you down easy, this could be a pity thing. His fingers drum anxiously against his thigh as Aaron drives, eyes focused straight on the road, his face still unreadable. God, does he have to be so sexy when he drives? 

Just like the time on the plane, though, the time in the car eventually passes, the tension thick between them by the time Aaron pulls into his apartment complex. He smiles gently at Spencer as he takes the key out of the ignition. “Shall we head up?” he asks, and Spencer’s floored at what he sees in his face: he’s wearing the expression he only pulls when he looks at Jack or the team as a whole on a relaxed evening out. To see it directed at him exclusively is a kind of intensity he isn’t prepared for and it bowls him over for a second. 

“Yeah,” Spencer laughs breathily. “Sorry, yeah. Let’s go up.” 

The apartment door closing behind them sounds way too loud to Spencer and, sick of the tension, he decides to try and clear the air. “Look, Aaron, Hotch, can you just tell me--”

He’s cut off by Aaron’s lips pressing firmly against his own, a hand coming to rest on his waist while another grips his face gently. It takes him a second to catch up before he’s kissing back, overwhelmed by the feeling of Aaron’s hands on his body, the very hands he’s admired for years, the hands he’s fantasised about, the hands that make him feel things. He reaches up to place his own on Aaron’s chest, feeling the broadness there, the strength in the body against his making him weak at the knees. 

Aaron pulls away eventually. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says, voice as breathless as Spencer feels. 

“Me too,” he replies, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Maybe… maybe we should do it again.” He smiles shyly at Aaron before leaning in again, this time gasping a little as Aaron pushes him back against the door for leverage, tracing his hand up and down Spencer’s sides, making him tremble in his grip.

“God, Spencer, you’re so damn breathtaking,” Aaron says in between fervent kisses. “Literally.” They both giggle into each others’ mouths at that, relief filling both of them up to the brim as the knowledge that finally, finally, their pining is over sets in. This could be it, they could build something real. 

“Aaron,” Spencer moans, trembling more as Aaron presses himself closer, right hand moving to grip the back of his neck gently, holding him firmly against his body. It overwhelms Spencer a bit, feeling completely surrounded by a man who was so unattainable for so long, by the person he’s been in love with for years. 

It was completely involuntary, but it makes Aaron pull away, resting his forehead against Spencer’s as they both breathe deeply. “We should talk,” he says softly, pressing a final chaste kiss to Spencer’s lips before pulling back completely and taking his hand, leading him to the sofa. 

“Could I have a blanket or something?” Spencer asks shyly, looking sheepish. “I’m a bit chilly.”

He sees realisation dawn on Aaron’s face along with a little bit of guilt. “Of course, Spencer,” he says. “Sorry this is so backwards. Do you want anything else? Something to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m fine,” Spencer says lightly. “Let’s talk and then we could order some dinner?” 

“Sounds perfect,” he smiles, reaching over into a cupboard and bringing out a thick, fluffy blanket. He drapes it over Spencer and makes sure he’s completely comfortable before sitting down opposite him on the sofa himself. “So. Your letter.”

Spencer ducks his head, a light flush tinting his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t know how else to say it?” he says, a question colouring his voice. 

“No, I’m not criticising you,” Aaron rushes to clarify. “It’s possibly the most romantic, beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me, and the truth is, Spencer, I’m in love with you, too.”

Spencer’s head darts up, wide, earnest eyes meeting Aaron’s serious gaze. “You are?” he asks, voice filled with the surprised sort of wonderment that always betrays him whenever any sort of love or affection is revealed to him.

“I am,” Hotch chuckles fondly. “Very much so. I’ve loved you since before Haley passed, to be honest. I’ve done all the things you wrote in your letter, too; I want all the same things you do.”

Spencer’s blush darkens a bit at that, remembering… certain parts… of his letter that he hopes Aaron includes in that statement. “All of it?” His voice is a little squeaky, almost cracking as he clears his throat at the awkwardness. 

“Yeah,” Aaron grins cheekily, loving that he can appreciate the blush on Spencer’s cheeks openly now. There’s no more room for hiding. “All of it.” 

Spencer clears his throat again. “So, is this what you want? Me? A relationship?” he asks, still a little uncertain, not quite secure in the fact that Aaron won’t back off and say this was an experiment, he’s not really committed in the same way Spencer is. 

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Aaron says earnestly. “I want you. I want everything that comes with you, I want the highs and lows of a relationship, I want commitment, I want fun, I want seriousness. Spencer, will you be my boyfriend?” 

Spencer’s brain short circuits for a second before he looks up with the widest smile, one usually reserved for Henry, the kind that reveals unadulterated, unconditional love. “Yes,” he whispers as he launches himself across the sofa and into Aaron’s arms, resting his head on his chest as he revels in the comfort of that exact moment. Finally, though, the extreme emotions of the evening catch up with him and he can’t quite fight them off anymore, maybe his brain is finally convinced that he doesn’t have to, that he’s safe here. Whatever the reason, he can’t help the tears that start to leak from his eyes, or the sobs that softly wrack his shoulders. 

“Spencer,” Aaron whispers back, voice dripping in concern. “Spencer, what’s wrong?” 

“It’s just… it happened,” he tries to explain through his snivelling. “What I hoped for… at the end of my letter. I wrote ‘I am holding out hope that you will say all this back to me, that you will write your own love letter or profess your own love. That you have similar fantasies and daydreams about me, that you've thought of all these things, too.’ And you did. You do.”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, struck with awe, too. “It’s pretty overwhelming for me, too.”

They lie like that for a while longer, finding comfort in one another’s arms, the weight of Spencer weighing Aaron down in a way that feels like security and Aaron’s arms wrapping around him in a way that gives him all the comfort and protection he craves.

Eventually, Spencer picks his head up and meets Aaron’s tired eyes. It had been a long case and an emotionally exhausting evening, and it was nearing midnight. “Shall I order some pizza?” he asks, playing with the tie Aaron was still wearing, slightly loosened but still sexy enough for Spencer to very much appreciate. 

“Please,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to Spencer’s lips. “I can’t believe I just get to do that now.”

Spencer hums in content. “Well, by all means, Mr Hotchner, do it again,” he says in a sultry tone.

Aaron groans. “You’d better not talk like that, Spencer, or we’ll never get our pizza.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “You get us some drinks and get the telly set up. I’ll be right back.” 

Aaron closes the curtains, turns off the overhead light and turns on some lamps and lights some candles. Spencer raises an eyebrow at that and he puts his hands up defensively. “What? They’re cosy!” Spencer giggles at that, kissing him again. 

“Can we put the history channel on?” Spencer asks while Aaron turns the TV on and fiddles with the volume. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less, sweetheart.” Spencer ducks his head and blushes, insides warming and tingling at the affection. He’s still not entirely sure this isn’t a dream. Aaron, unfortunately, doesn’t miss it. “Aw, are you blushing? Do you like that, you like it when I call you sweetheart?” he teases, smiling warmly at Spencer, clearly relishing in the deep red colour of his face. “Or is it just any pet name? You like it when I call you pretty names, baby?”

Spencer nearly outright moans at that but manages to stifle it, not that it makes much of a difference in Aaron’s delighted expression. “Stop, Aaron,” he whines in a manner that conveys he would very much not like Aaron to stop. 

“God, baby, you are too much to handle,” he groans, leaning across the sofa to pull Spencer away from his perch against the corner and into his chest. They lay quietly like that for a few minutes while the history channel plays a documentary about the Battle of Trafalger, breathing deep and slow as they appreciate this little slice of serenity while they wait for their dinner to arrive.

Once their pizza boxes are empty and they’ve finally had something to eat, Aaron turns to Spencer who’s meticulously wiping the pizza grease on his fingers away with a napkin, making him smile fondly. “Hey, Spence?” he asks, grabbing the attention of the younger man. “I wanted to talk to you about something you wrote in your letter.” 

Spencer looks a little bit like a rabbit caught in the headlights, hesitant as to what Aaron is about to say. What if he was mortally offended by something, or he didn’t like something I wrote? Was I too forward?

“First of all, I’ll always love Haley, but in a distant, wistful kind of way that I can’t quite explain. She’s been gone for a while now and I’ve moved on,” he explains, and Spencer’s flush returns. It’s one thing to write the letter, hell, it’s one thing to hand it to Aaron, but it’s another thing entirely to discuss the ins and outs of his heart in such graphic detail. “I fell in love with you very slowly, but I’d realised it around four months before Haley died. I’ll grant you that in the following year I didn’t really have much time or emotional capacity to dwell on it but it was always there in the back of my mind, and it’s only intensified over the last two years.”

“Really?” The flush is still firmly rooted to Spencer’s face, but his eyes are wide now, staring into Aaron’s with an earnest sort of intensity. “I had no idea.”

“Well I had no idea that you wanted everything I did, either,” Aaron chuckles. “Instead we’ve just been existing in a state of perpetual mutual pining and if you hadn’t had the bravery to do what you did, maybe we never would have known.”

“It was rather brave,” Spencer smiles, joking a bit, but they both know it’s the truth. “I’ve been in love with you since the Tobias Hankel situation. After you understood me and knew how to find me, how you saved my life. It spiralled from there and no effort to try and get over you has succeeded.”

“Mmm you mentioned,” Aaron hums. “I must say, I’m a bit jealous of these other dates you speak of.”

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Spencer says. “They didn’t hold a candle to you, and the few that made it past the first couple of dates knew that all too well.”

Aaron chuckles lightly at that before they settle into a comfortable silence, the TV still playing the background. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” he asks, voice low and a bit unsure. “No funny business, I just… don’t want to let you go yet.”

“Me neither,” Spencer says honestly. “Of course I’ll stay.” He can hear his voice still sounds a little squeaky, still vulnerable in this new situation. 

Aaron smiles back and turns the lights and TV off, blowing out the candles before offering a hand to Spencer as they make their way to his room. 

“Oh,” Spencer says, stopping in his tracks as soon as they step into Aaron’s bedroom. “I left my go bag in the car.”

“I’m sure we can find a solution to that,” Aaron smirks, pushing the bedroom door closed with his left hand and crowding him up against it with his right, diving for his neck. Spencer moans high in his throat, pressing forward further into Aaron’s hold. “You can wear one of my shirts. God, I’ve fantasised about you in my clothes for years, baby.” 

“So… so possessive,” Spencer teases through Aaron’s kisses.

“Yeah, you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

That gets Aaron to pull away, looking deep into Spencer’s eyes, awe filling his gaze. “I love you, too. Fuck it feels so good to hear that, to finally say that.”

“I know.” Spencer’s blushing slightly, the forwardness of his remark embarrassing him slightly. 

“Come on,” Aaron says, pressing one final kiss to Spencer’s lips. “Let’s get ready for bed. I’ll find you a top and I know I have a spare toothbrush around here somewhere…”

Spencer smiles, sitting on the bed as he watches Aaron bustle around the room, finding the stuff he needs for the night. This could be it, he thinks. This could be my life now. Domesticity had never much appealed to Spencer, but sitting there now as Aaron chatters away about the visit to the shopping centre that has resulted in buying the top he tosses Spencer’s way, he knows he was right to change his mind. He was right to crave this, to crave pancakes for dinner and new TV shows and lazy mornings.

And when they’re finally cuddled up in bed, warm under the covers and safe in one another’s arms, he knows he was right to share that craving with Aaron. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Runaway: Daniel Michaelson’s Story

CW: Threats involving guns stuck in bad places (NOT THERE), dehumanizing language, pet whump, conditioning, brainwashing, POV of heavily conditioned, hopeless whumpee/caretaker, muzzling, noncon touching, referenced noncon

Tagging Danny’s people:  @slytherynjolras, @whump-it, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @finder-of-rings, @spiffythespook, @burtlederp, @whumpywhumper, @18-toe-beans, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @whale-whumps, @swordkallya,

NOTE: This takes place approximately four months after Danny is abducted.

Nate loved Casablanca the best out of all the movies the body had left behind when Bram brought them here to stay. Not because of the actors, really, or even the filmmaking. 

He loved it because of Danny.

Danny knew all the lines by now, and he would say them along with the actors, mimicking their old-fashioned accents as he sat next to him on the couch after midnight, the two of them brushing against each other, trying to laugh in whispers at the same jokes over and over, and sometimes Nate put an arm around him and he leaned into it, and it almost felt normal.

Normal except for the deep red scars that dipped across the bridge of Danny’s nose and  notched into the sides of his jaw from the metal thing that Bram had fixed onto him after Danny called him a rapist to his face. Normal except for the bandages, the bruising, the bleeding that went on day by day, every time Danny failed to answer to Red or didn’t beg the right way or on his strongest days, refused to beg at all.

Nate, Bram loved - but there was no love with Danny. Only a cold, implacable, unpredictable violence. The only affection Bram showed the redhead was laced with reminders that he was less than, with the simple fact that Danny was, in Bram’s eyes, just the puppy - a glorified walking corpse. Danny maybe hadn’t understood that until the thing went on his face and he didn’t talk for two weeks, because he couldn’t, because Bram would not let him until he learned to behave.

Nate understood it. Bram was building a family, sort of, for as long as he allowed Danny to live. And Nate could only sit to the side, drowning in Bram’s eyes, and let the pain and degradation happen and pray that he could do enough to keep Danny together in the spaces between.

Life was normal - as much as living like this could be - except for the misery and anger that haunted Danny, dogged his every move, burned in his long silences and the way he froze up or spat bitterness every time Bram touched him, not smart enough to learn to lean into it, to fake it, to just go along to make it easier on himself. Not smart enough, or just not willing to watch himself turn into what Nate already was.

Danny was a ball of anger and unhappiness. All of that, and Danny’s righteous sense that there was supposed to be a better place, a better life, than this for the both of them… they were all feelings that Nate simply couldn’t access any longer.

Not since Bram had thrown Danny into the trunk of his own car. Not since he’d covered the backseat of that car with blood and left it in a ditch on the side of a highway. Not since… not since Bram had decided to keep Danny rather than kill him. 

What Danny didn’t understand, no matter how many times Nate tried to explain it, was that there was life before he had been chosen, and life after, and there was nothing else.

There is no life but Abraham. 

Danny didn’t know that yet, but… he would. He was already learning the rules, rules Nate already knew and other rules, too. He didn’t believe them, yet, but he would. Once the rules had crowded out all the room he had to believe anything else. 

Nate was cracked inside his head, now, and he knew it. He’d tried to pretend he wasn’t, when he was on the run, but life with Bram and Ashley had ruined him before he’d ever found the courage, just that once, to escape. He was even worse now. He flinched at loud noises and stuttered until he could barely be understood. He was everything Bram wanted in bed and never said no (he’d had never listened anyway), and who else could love someone who had let himself be rewritten so thoroughly?

In the life before Bram, he’d been stoic and dry-witted and a parade of one-liners, someone whose coworkers were never sure whether or not he was making a joke. Here, four and a half years since they had found him in a bar and decided to destroy his life, he was quiet, and if he looked into Bram’s eyes enough he was happy, and who could ever love someone like that?

Sometimes Danny looked at him with empty eyes, spent whole days curled up on his mat staring at nothing or worked hard on Bram's project of the day in total silence... or just looked down and nodded when Bram called him a good boy… and he wondered how much of Danny was even left. Enough to fight, sure, but even the fighting was a little bit less each day. 

It was okay. This was just Danny’s life now, and if he learned to accept it, he could start to feel better after that, to be happy again. He just had to know that this was his life now.

One morning, Nate woke up beside Bram with the sun shining brightly through the window, the air cool and crisp inside the cabin, chillier outside. Mid-morning, but that was normal. Bram slept late and Nate usually did, too, unless Bram had a project that would take long enough that an early wake up was needed.

Danny was always up before everyone else - at sunrise or even earlier, no matter how late they were up the night before. Especially as the weather had gotten colder - the leaves were brightly colored and falling off the trees in droves, making any trip into the woods to check on traps an exercise in crunching through underbrush. As it got colder outside, it was colder inside, and Nate watched Danny begin to shiver, day by day, the thin clothing Bram allowed him never, ever enough.

Nate woke up thinking of Danny, nearly every morning, and today was no exception. He stretched lazily, let a still-half-asleep Bram kiss him without complaint, and pulled on a loose pair of flannel pajama pants. He wandered out into the living room to find he didn't smell the usual fresh pot of coffee.

Coffee was one of Danny's jobs, and it was the only one he didn't resent, that he liked doing. They’d moved the coffeemaker into the living room so Danny could reach it on his chain, filling the coffeepot with water from the bathroom sink and measuring out the grounds in there, brewing it strong, the way Bram liked it. 

Today, though… nothing.

"Dan-… Red?" Damn. If he forgot to use the right name, Bram would get angry. He had to get better at it, but he always stumbled, because he was trying so hard to remember he was Danny inside his head. 

The mat next to the couch was empty, the blankets were gone, and Danny's chain was lying across the floor with no Danny at the end of it. Nate stared down at a single broken link on the end. He'd found a weak spot, Nate thought, an actual honest-to-God weak link in the chain. His heart dropped to his knees and then jumped back into his throat as he looked over to the kitchen and saw the inside door was still standing open, the screen door cracked.

No. No no no no.

Don't leave me, he thought helplessly. I need someone with me, don't make me love him alone. God damn it, Danny, don't leave me here without you, I need you here with me, I need you here. You’re supposed to be with us now.

Something in the back of his mind tried to tell him this wasn’t the right way to respond, but he had buried the part of himself that thought things like that, and it wasn’t a very loud voice any longer. 

"B-Bram, come out! C-c-c… c-c-cuh… damn it! Fuck! B-B-B-… Bram!”

Bram came stumbling out, and as Nate spun around he could see the genuine worry for him in his eyes, worry that he might be hurt, that Nate needed help - whatever Bram would consider ‘help’, at least. “What is it, Nate?” 

Bram’s eyes lit on the mat, and the chain, and the total lack of a Danny where a Danny was supposed to be. “Ah.” 

Bram stilled suddenly, and Nate took a step away from him as all the humanity and gentle affection and love he wore like a mask simply dropped off of him, like he’d shaken off snow. He stood like a predator. 

I’m just the luckiest kind of prey, Nate thought, and his vision was growing pale and foggy around the edges as he breathed in shallow, gasping pants.

Bram continued to stare down at the empty mat. “Puppy’s gone.”

“Y-y-yes, he’s g-g-gone, he r-ran away. He’s g-g-gone, he’s gone, he-” Nate’s hands went up to his hair, digging fingers into the black until it hurt, trying to calm his racing heart. Don’t leave me I can’t live without you. I can’t do this by myself all alone again, I can’t be his alone again. “He weh-... went into the w-w-woods, the woods, there are things in the woods, Bram-”

“Ssshhhhh,” Bram soothed, stepping over to him, putting his hands on either side of Nate’s face, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, gently. “Put your hands down.”

“B-Bram-” He dug his fingers in tighter. “Bram, h-he’ll die-”

“I said put your fucking hands down.”

Nate’s hands dropped immediately out of his hair and down to his sides.

“Breathe. In and out, Nate. In and out.” He followed Bram’s orders, he always followed the orders now, and felt his breath slowing down, getting deeper, almer. “Sssshhhh, calm down, baby,” Bram continued, his voice gentle and sweet. None of the predator here, none of the inhuman calculation behind blue eyes. “Calm down. It’s okay. I'm worse than anything out there, I've got you. You belong to me, nothing out there would dare touch anything that’s mine." One cold hand slid around behind his neck, rubbing gently, and Nate felt his heart start to slow under the touch, leaning forward until his head dropped onto Bram’s shoulder.

“He d-doesn’t kn-... know how to l-l-live in the w-woods,” He said softly, lips barely moving. Bram’s shoulder was cold, but he was always cold, more like a reptile than a man. "He'll d-die out there."

The cold felt good against skin heated with fear. 

No one’s going to hear him. No one’s going to hear him screaming for help. No one. Not even us.

“I know he doesn’t,” Bram replied, still rubbing at the back of his neck with his knuckles in a gentle motion, back and forth, up and down. “I know that, I don’t want him to know. Don’t worry, okay? I’ve been tracking game since I was eight years old, and he’s going to leave a trail as wide as an elephant’s. He won’t go far.”

“So you’ll g-g-go… go find him?” He could feel his throat finally relaxing, the stammer starting to settle. “You’ll b-bring him back? Back to me?"

“We’ll find him, baby,” Bram said softly. “Don't you worry about him. I don’t let dogs run away from me.”

“He’s not a d-d-d-duh… a dog, Bram.” He never stood up for himself any longer, only rarely stood up for Danny, but this… he had to try. He lifted his head, briefly meeting Bram’s eyes, trying to steel himself against the possibility that Bram would be angry. “He’s not a dog,” He said as firmly as he could, proud of himself when his voice was deep and solid and strong. “He’s m-my friend, h-he-... he’s part of us.”

“Okay,” Bram said softly, barely flickering an eyelid. Letting it go, for now, if not forever. “But he’s a very bad Red, isn’t he? He’s misbehaved, hasn’t he? He tried to leave you, baby, how dare he leave you.” Nate just let his head drop back down, unwilling to say the words, to play along with this game. “We’ll find him,” Bram repeated. “We’ll find him and we’ll bring him back home where he belongs.” 

Nate nodded, letting his fingers curl into Bram’s shirt, because he liked when he did that, he had always liked when Nate initiated affection. Some of the old disgust threatened to rise in him, the old loathing of them that he had tried so hard to hold onto. These days, though, most of that disgust and loathing he turned on himself, because if he didn’t love Bram, why even stay alive?

“Th-thank you,” He said quietly. “I love you. I-I want him back.”

Please, I just don’t want him to die.

“I know,” Bram said, and kissed into his hair at the top of his head. “I’ll get him back for you, Nate. Don’t worry.”

It was the wrong thing to think, the wrong way to look at it, but he had been with Bram a very long time, and he was tired and lonely and his mind was a constant nonstop loop of muffled screaming, and Danny was the only thing that ever made him feel anything else. 

“Th-thank you.”

 “You’re welcome,” Bram murmured. He pulled back and away then, and there was a cold smile on his face that Nate knew very well. “Let’s give him three days.”

“Th-three days? We’re n-n-not going im-im-im, im… right away?”

“Oh, no, that’s no fun. Three days is perfect. There's a cold front coming in tonight. He’ll be freezing and fucking starving by then. You and I will go find him, we'll split up and I’ll give you a good head start. If you find him first, I’ll let him live, okay, baby? Just for you. If I find him, I’ll fucking choke him to death and let him rot and grow mushrooms if he wants to be in the woods so badly."

Nate’s heart pounded again and he stared at the glacial eyes in the pale face and watched the movements of the darker things that lived behind them. He nodded, slowly. Bram had taught him how to track, how to find the trail of game and keep going until he found what he was looking for. It’d been a while, but… but he didn’t have a choice. 

“Th-thank you,” He said again, and the words dropped like stones. 

Bram looked at him, all but glowing with excitement. “Let’s have some coffee, Nate. I want to go over all the basics with you so this is at least a fair competition. I haven’t done this in so long, a competition for hunting someone. Not since…” Bram’s words trailed off, and a flicker of pain and grief was in his face. “Not since Ashley.”

Nate remembered. Ashley had games she liked to play, and one of them had been to bring a body conscious and kicking to a spot in the woods just outside the town in Tennessee, close to the mountains. They would set the body free, make a bet on who would catch them first, and hunt them down, the two of them cackling like demons while Nate stayed trapped in the house, waiting for them to come back arguing over who had truly won.

Bram was nearly crackling, like lightning brought to life, and Nate found it hard to look away. It had been so long, and Danny had given him the opportunity to go on a hunt, and Bram had always looked so good before a hunt - Nate had only seen him go out with Ashly a few times, but all the restless energy in him that turned to anger or the itch was smoothed out when he did, because it was only a matter of time before he walked the woods and ran the injured animal down.

Nate understood his own pain was a pale shadow of the ecstasy Bram and Ashley could take from those final moments of miserable fear.

But Bram loved him, anyway.

Nate moved over to the coffeemaker, staring blankly as his hands went through the automatic motion of adding coffee grounds to the filter, pouring in the water, and pressing the button to brew. 

I have to find him first.

---

In the end, he did.

He'd glanced back at Bram before he left, in heavy jeans and a flannel over his shirt, a hat pulled down low to cover his ears against the cold. Abraham Denner was just visible through the kitchen window, watching him while he sipped his coffee. The other man smiled at him, and he shivered.

I hate you, you fucking monster, you stole my life - and his. I hate you so fucking much.

He could still hate him. Not for long, but it was still in there. It just got swallowed up by the voice in his ear and the flat ice in his eyes.

Who would even love Red but us now, baby?

Those were Bram’s thoughts, the things he said sometimes when they were in bed and Danny was out on his mat sleeping in the living room, and Bram would murmur, I’ve fucked him up too much for anyone else, just the way we did to you. Remade him. Who would want him with muzzle scars on his face? 

I think they won't know what they are. It was a struggle to fight the disgust and the cold, clean hatred that tried to well up when Bram said the word, the name of the thing, the thing he never ever named. 

He'd have to tell them eventually. I'd pay good money to see the face of whatever body he tries to bring home when he has to explain where they came from.

He wouldn't tell them. He'd lie. He could still-

Could he? Bram chuckled, rolling into his side, letting fingers trail along Nate's shoulder and down his ribcage, over one hip. Could you still, after me, with anyone else?

He wanted to say yes. Instead, he thought of how even with Danny he hadn’t been entirely sure he was going to be able to do much that night he’d invited him over, and shook his head.

That's right. He's ours now. Now he knows that I’m in his head and marked on his body. Who would want him when he doesn’t know any other way to be but ours, the way he is now?

How is h-he, right n-n-now, to you? Nate closed his eyes, shifting in the bed as Bram's hand found its way across his abdomen, and slowly moved down. 

Half-broken and nearly feral for it, Bram said thoughtfully. If they found him tomorrow, those bodies he belonged to before, they would still know him. But not for long.

Nate had thought of the difference between the angry, hilarious, fucking funny man he’d started flirting with, and the quiet, withdrawn redhead that sat on the mat staring off into space.

He’d been a little shy before, although he had been eager enough when Nate had suggested he come over that night. Now he flinched every single time Bram touched him… but had learned to let his chin be tilted up for the kiss, to open his mouth when ordered, and he knew better than to try and stop it, any of it, no matter how violent Bram was.

He’d been shoved into the trunk still spitting curses, but after weeks in the thing - after months in the woods - he kept them mostly locked behind his teeth now. 

He’d grown up with staff and a cook - Mrs. Verona or something, which seemed like a weird Shakespeare reference more than a name to Nate - who did everything for him. Now he forced his hands into scalding water when cleaning without a word until they were so red he couldn’t stand to touch anything for hours afterward. He scrubbed the bathroom until it was cleaner than it had been when they’d moved in, he moved unconsciously around the kitchen picking up their dishes to wash after dinner. He’d burned himself on the oven once when he was still learning how to cook and hadn’t said anything until Bram had noticed the infected spot on his arm days later, and even then he’d tried to refuse the bandage and antiseptic.

No, Nate had said, quietly. N-no, I don’t think they w-w-w-would recognize him now.

Good. Bram had smiled, nearly asleep. I don’t want them to. I want him to be with us, a part of our family, our little Red. Yours and mine both - just like you were mine and Ashley’s.

Yours and mine, Nate echoed, and was frightened when he didn’t stammer or even feel anything but a vague relief at the idea that at least he got to have someone, too. 

He was losing his fucking mind.

As soon as he stepped into the woods at the edge of the clearing, he had a two-hour head start. If Bram found Danny, he was dead. If Nate found Danny, he would be brought back here, chained back up, back in captivity and back in hell.

 But he'd be here, with Nate, where he belonged.

For just a minute, he had hesitated, torn between what was probably the right thing - to refuse to chase Danny down like a runaway dog, even though Bram was probably right that he wouldn't last long by himself - and what he wanted - Danny here on the couch to watch movies with and cook dinner and, when he forgot he was miserable, to laugh with him.

No. There was no life before Bram. There was no life after. There was only now.

Finally, Nate had started walking, looking for the telltale scuffs, broken twigs, and disturbed underbrush Danny had left behind. Three days of placid windless sun and increasingly chill nights hadn't wiped any of it clean. He felt like he was an hour behind Danny, not three days. 

He even found a wavy red hair caught at Danny's height in a tree. When he went up on his toes to tug it out, he heard a strange sound and looked up - to see a white raven sitting on a tree branch twenty feet ahead.

It watched him with strange pinkish eyes, and Nate shuddered at the feel of something crawling up and down his skin. Then he caught sight of a bit of torn cloth further away, and when he looked back the white raven was gone. 

He crouched down to look at the bit of soft fleece caught in the bush. Red and black plaid - one of Danny’s blankets, his favorite, the one he always kept pulled the furthest up so it brushed his chin while he slept. It’d been Danny’s present for the first month he’d spent with them - Bram always knew the days, tracked the time, long after Nate had stopped knowing anything beyond whether or not the sun was up. He’d given Danny the blanket, and when he hadn’t said thank you, there had been-

No. He wasn’t going to think about what had happened every time Danny didn’t say ‘thank you’ for a gift. He wasn’t going to think about it, because he loved Bram, and he loved Danny, and he had to love them both or everything would collapse here into the reality that he was standing by doing nothing while Danny was slowly destroyed.

It would collapse under the weight of having to admit he loved Daniel Michaelson and even with that, could not save him.

Nate looked up.

He saw the raven again, further away, watching him. He had a wild, irrational thought that it was trying to lead him to Danny. It made no sense, it was just a fucking bird, but… he stood and walked after it, anyway.

It took hours. Morning turned to day turned to afternoon and Nate's neck began to prickle with nervousness. He ate a granola bar, drank some water from the metal bottle in his backpack. He'd be out here after dark at this rate, even if he did find him first. They'd be alone, in the dark, in the woods.

It was evening by the time he caught up with his trail - a trail that he thought had been moving slower and slower as time went by. Danny had no sense of direction and had even begun to circle back towards the cabin without realizing it. It was dark enough that he had his flashlight in one hand, not on yet but ready to use. The white raven was still just ahead, and he was starting to hurt, from having been on the move all day.

He would never leave Bram Denner again; he was tired of losing things whenever he tried.

In the dark, with his legs burning and the trees around him like silent gods, it felt strange here, almost like he’d gone back in time or space to something much darker. His heart pounded, half-convinced he'd turn a corner and see something his eyes could not explain.

"Fuck!" He heard from somewhere ahead of him, a hoarse half-whisper that carried through the twilight-silent woods. "Get off me!"

He looked around, realizing the white raven was gone, and stumbled forward, using the trunks of trees around him for balance, heart pounding. Where was he? What was real? Bram was real. The cabin was real. Danny was real.

He came around a stand of trees to a small clearing, hardly even worth calling that, with a fairy ring of mushrooms off to one side and… Danny.

Danny was very real, and he'd stepped right into one of Bram's goddamn animal traps, and the white raven was currently yanking on his hair as hard as it could with its beak while Danny swatted at it ineffectually. “Get the fuck off me! Where the fuck did you come from, you piece of shit?!”

“H-how did you even m-m-manage…” Nate said, and Danny jumped nearly a foot in the air from surprise - or he would have, if he didn’t have one leg still stuck in the trap. The raven fluttered back up into a nearby branch and sat, watching them. Pink eyes seemed almost to glow in the dark. “You couldn’t s-see the tr-... trap?”

There were sticks stuck in his red hair and smudges of dirt on his pale face, and that was a familiar sight. Danny didn’t look frightened, though. He looked furious.

Nate flicked the flashlight on and Danny winced away from the bright light. He was wrapped in the black-and-red plaid fleece blanket over a blue T-shirt that said be nice to me, I’m still learning. 

Bram had thought that was hilarious, bringing it back from a supply run after special-ordering it, forcing Danny to thank him for the gift while he kept one hand in his hair, running slowly through as Danny shook with anger and stared down at the floor.

Nate had had to leave the room, pretending he needed a nap, when Bram began to graze his knuckles across the back of Danny's neck, murmuring “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Nate had barely been able to hold the scream back behind his teeth and Bram had looked up to smile at him and he knew-

“I-I think I b-broke my leg,” Danny said in a thin, strained voice, pulling his mind back to the present. Nate moved over to look, head tilted.

“Probably not,” Nate said, noticing his own lack of stammer in a distant kind of way. He always had stammered less or not at all when he was truly alone with Danny, just the two of them. He tried to crouch, but his left knee protested at any attempt to bend it, and so finally he just shrugged and bent himself over as best he could, using the flashlight to take a better look. “Bear traps are m-made for bear legs, not people, and I th-th-think it’s just got you held, not b-broken. Bram wanted to see if he could make b-b-bear oil but he hasn’t c-c-caught one yet… Probably it broke the skin and you h-have one hell of a bone bruise.” 

“Bone bruise? Is that a thing? H-how do you kn-know all that?” Danny asked. Nate gently pushed some of the torn cloth from Danny’s pants away, and noticed his skin was damp and frigid to the touch as he hissed at the slightest brush of Nate’s fingertips against the bruising skin. Danny was shivering so hard the chain attached to the trap rattled a little.

“Ashley and B-Bram taught me about traps,” Nate said simply. “Danny, you’re freezing. Wh-when did you step into this?”

“Yesterday? Last night? It was already dark, I couldn’t see it, he’d put leaves on it.” Danny looked down, frowning, teeth chattering. His lips were a little blue-gray in his very pale face, and there was an odd glitter to his warm blue eyes. As the sun went down the warmth fled the forest, and the chill air prickled along his skin. “I think yesterday. I ran out of water yesterday, too.”

“Dumbass. You’re s-s-such a f-fucking dumbass,” Nate said, voice laced with affection, and he was smiling as he pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack and handed it over. Danny drank half of it in one go, and his stomach growled audibly. “Did you even bring any f-food?”

“A little. Not enough.”

“What was y-your fucking plan, R-... Danny?”

“I thought he was l-lying about his neighbors. I thought maybe if I got far enough-”

“This is C-Canada, Danny. Northern Al, Alberta or s-s-something. There’s n-n-no one around us for fifteen m-miles at least.” Bram had wanted to come here for the wilderness, the isolation. Space and time to make him perfect for you, Nate.

“You have to g-go back,” Nate said softly, and let himself thump into the dirt with one knee pulled up to his chest and the bad knee straight out, frowning down at the trap. He carefully placed his hands on either side, gritting his teeth as his right hand protested at the pressure grinding all the wrongly-healed bones against each other. He slowly began to push the jaws of the trap apart, groaning at the pain, but finally it moved enough that Danny could grab onto his leg with both hands and pull it out, hissing as Nate let go and the trap clamped shut - this time on thin air. “You know th-that, right? You won’t g-g-get far, and you h-have to go back home.”

“It’s not my fucking home. It’s a cage. But… I know,” Danny said, and finally something other than anger was in his face. He whispered the words, and there was a moment where they both just sat still, neither one looking at the other, and Danny showed nothing but despair and a dawning resignation. “I just saw that the chain could break, and… and I-I didn’t think it through-”

“No,” said a cheerfully smug voice just behind Nate. Both of them froze immediately, eyes meeting in a flicker of panic they shared. “You sure as fuck didn’t, Red.”

Bram.

Nate swallowed hard, terrified of what might happen now but deeply relieved that he wouldn’t have to recreate the horrifying walk back through the forest with just Danny. Bram was right - he was far more terrifying than anything that could find them here. “I-I f-f-found him first, Bram,” Nate said softly, not quite defensively. “You s-said-”

“So you did,” Bram said, pride ringing in his voice. “I knew you could do it. Although to be honest, I never tried to track Red. I’ve been tracking you.”

“Y-you have?” Nate turned to look back over his shoulder, and Bram at night in the woods looked more like a spirit than a person. Deceptively slim, with that strange, unearthly beautiful pale face that had been nearly identical to his sister’s. The very slightly upturned blue eyes glowed in the light from Nate’s flashlight, reflected it almost like a cat. He’d let his hair grow a little since they came here, and Nate sometimes caught himself reaching out to touch the slight wave in the white-blonde hair. He was holding a gun in one hand. “You were f-f-following… me?”

“Yeah, baby. I was never going to hunt him. I just wanted to see if you passed the test. You did. I’m so proud of you.” Those pale eyes, warm when they looked at him, went colder as they slid over to look down at Danny. “You, on the other hand… I'm very disappointed in you."

“B-Bram-” Nate said, eyes on the dark metal in the last of the remaining light, Bram holding the gun loosely and casually, as though he walked around like this every day. “D-don’t sh-sh-shoot-”

“You found him first,” Bram said, turning that sweetness on him. Nate felt himself relax, almost automatically - Bram wanted to see him relax, to see the effect of his mood. To see that they were so controlled by him. “What was our deal?”

“I-If I found him f-f-fuh… first, he gets to l-live,” Nate said, and hated himself for the knowledge that he once would have said it strongly, but now it was mostly tremulous hope. Because he didn't know - Bram without Ashley was an Bram with only Nate for an anchor, a rudder, and he could never be to him what Ashley had been. 

“That’s right,” Bram said amiably. “And you did. So I guess, you bad dog," He said to Danny, "this is your lucky day.”

“H-he’s not a-”

“Shut up, Nate.”

Nate's mouth snapped shut and he looked down, letting Bram run fingers over the top of his hair, shivering a little at his touch, not unpleasantly. 

"That's what I thought," Bram said quietly. "The problem here is that the two of you forget, sometimes, that we belong together. Red stays, he stays forever. We belong together forever. All three of us. Until we die. Well. Until Red does, anyway.”

Danny had gone very still, as he usually did when Bram looked directly at him or said things like that, sitting on the ground with his injured leg pulled up to his chest, still shaking in the cold air. Probably too tired from not sleeping and weak from not eating to even try to run, Nate thought, not that he would have gotten far. Bram had told him once that he learned to run by wearing down injured deer following them for hours without stopping until they bled enough to collapse. Danny was a skinny city puppy who'd spent four months chained to walls. He couldn't go any further than a hunter wanted him to go.

Bram moved over to him, going right past Nate to slowly lower himself to Danny’s level, head tilted, as though he were looking at a particularly troublesome rodent.

“You ran away from me,” Bram said, thoughtfully. Danny didn’t look at him, his eyes fixed down and off to the side. “Why would you go and do a thing like that, hm? I’ve been good to you, little Red.” He reached out, laying his hand against Danny’s face. 

"Fuck you," Danny spat. When the younger man tried to jerk his head away, the hand with the gun twitched, a little. 

Bram takes, softly. “Language, Red. You don’t pull away from me. I’ve been nice to you and I’m not going to be nice again. So you’re going to hold still for me, and shut your fucking whore mouth.”

“Bram,” Nate said, reaching out a hand. "Please-"

 “Quiet."

 Danny went still again, and Bram let the hand slide back and around, burying his fingers into the dirty red hair, jerking Danny’s head back to look at him. "What made you think you get to run off, puppy, eh?"

"I'm not your goddamn-"

"P-please don't s-s-say it," Nate said, stomach flipping with nausea and fear. "He doesn’t l-l-like it when you say y-you're not…"

“Yes you are," Bram said as if Nate hadn't spoken. "You’re part of our family. You and I have a good time, don't we?"

Danny shook his head rapidly, swallowing disgust. 

"Hm. Maybe not from your perspective. You just need a reminder that there are three of us here, and you’re never leaving me. Nate got lots of reminders before I fixed him, Red. What was your favorite, baby?"

"My wh-what?" His head was pounding, so loud he could barely hear Bram at all. The rush of his own blood in his ears was too loud. Danny still didn't look up, frozen under Bram's stare, his hand.

"Your favorite reminder of what you are."

"Oh. I, uh- um… th-the, the, uh, the t-time with my, my r-ribs…" It was the only thing he could think of. Bram’s blade slipping into his skin.

"Mmmn, I liked that one, too. Good choice. So what should we give you, Red?"

"I… I don't know," Danny mumbled. "Do whatever you want, you fucking psycho."

"Oh, I will. What’s your name?” Bram asked, in a low, soft lover’s voice. “What’s your name, puppy? Tell me your name.”

“Danny M-Michaelson,” Danny said, but he made the mistake of looking up into Bram’s eyes and got caught there, the way Nate sometimes did when he was angry, when you got to see the animal that sat behind the man’s face. His warmer blue eyes widened, lost in the fury and hate and distance in Bram.

“I’ll give you one more shot,” Bram murmured, circling his fingers along Danny’s scalp, gentle, soothing. Danny’s shaking was getting worse, but Nate didn’t think it was from the cold this time. “What. Is. Your. Name.”

Danny swallowed, and when Bram leaned in closer to his face, he flinched, breaking eye contact, curling in on himself. “My n-name is Red,” He said quietly, forcing the words out. 

“Say it.” Bram leaned in even more, just a little closer, slowly pushing the barrel of the gun into the bloody, bruising wound on Danny's leg.

The redhead hissed through his teeth, whimpering in pain, but he didn't pull away. Smart, smart. Nate stared at the two of them, afraid to move, afraid if he broke the moment Bram might change his mind and decide Danny didn’t get to live, after all. 

“Introduce yourself to me, like we’re just meeting on the street. ‘Hi, my name is Red, and I belong to Abraham Denner.’”

“N-no,” Danny shook his head, but the hand gripped back into his hair and he went still again, swallowing hard. “I-I don’t w-w-want to-”

The gun pushed harder into his leg and the whimpering became a cry, bouncing around the trees, swallowed up by them like Bram had swallowed up Danny’s entire life.

“I don’t care about what you want. Ask Nate, he can tell you that what you want doesn’t mean anything to me. I will make you what I want, and I don’t care how long it takes. I will fix you and when you’re done you will die like the rest. So. Introduce yourself to me, or I will cut off every single finger on your right hand and make you toss them in the fireplace yourself. Do you like your right hand, Red? Are you… attached to it?”

He paused and glanced over his shoulder, smiling like a little boy who had done a trick. "Good pun, right?"

Nate nodded quickly. "G-good," He said weakly.

Bram turned back to Danny. "So?"

“Just do it,” Nate whispered. “Just d-d-do what he w-w-wuh-... wants.”

“Everything I do is what he wants, now.” Danny had tears standing in his eyes, and he curled his right hand against his chest. “Everything I do is what he wants.”

Welcome to my life, Danny.

“Not true,” Bram said, in the tone of two men having a reasonable, rational disagreement. “You do what Nate wants, too. Would that be easier for you? ‘Hi, my name is Red, and I belong to Nathaniel Vandrum.’ That’s easy enough, isn’t it?" He let go of the younger man's hair, let his hand drift down to grab Danny's, forcing him to open it back up, running his fingertips over Danny's knuckles, fingernails, palm. 

"Don't touch me," Danny said, voice wavering, but he didn't pull his hand back.

"I’m going to count to five, and if I get to five and you haven’t said it, you lose five fingers." He smiled, playfully tapping each of Danny's fingers in turn. "One-two-three-four-five, little body. Then I’ll count to ten, and take a hand. Then I’ll count to-”

“I-I’ll do it.” Danny spat the words, and there was still defiance in his voice, in his eyes. There was still fight there. He buried it under submission but Nate still saw it - and if he did, so did Bram. "I will, just, just give me a fucking second… I will."

Nate closed his eyes, curling his left hand into a fist. Come home with us. There was a moment of awful silence.

“H-Hi,” Danny stammered, and Bram held onto his hand, the three of them sitting in the final dregs of twilight. He didn't move the gun, not yet. “Hi, m-m-my name is… is… fuck-”

“No, that’s what you’re going to do for us, not who you are,” Bram teased, and Danny let out a broken half-choked sob, nodding as much as Bram would let him, gathering himself back together. “Take a moment, puppy. Take a few deep breaths. Easy, Red. Easy. It's okay, we've got you. In… hold for five… out… in… hold for five… out…”

Danny breathed as ordered, and when he nodded again, it was slower. “I-I’m ready, Abraham.”

“Good, good, there's a good boy. Now try again."

“Hi,” He started again, voice breathy but calmer, his hands in fists and Nate could tell even with just the light of the flashlight that his face was flushed red. There were tear tracks marking through the dirt smudges on his angry, desperate face and the forest loomed around them.

I love him, Nate thought. I love them both. He has rewritten me. We're the only people who could love each other now. I’m a fucking monster, too.

“Hi,” Danny repeated, a little hopelessly. “My name is R-Red, and I b… I belong to Nate…”

“To Nate…?” Bram prodded.

“I belong to Nate Vandrum,” Danny finished in a whisper. Nate’s body burned with shame. “My name is Red. It's Red."

“Good boy. That’s better. Now say your first rule, it’ll be easier now, won’t it?”

Danny’s voice trembled, submission written in every line of his body. “My name is Red,” He whispered. “I belong to Abraham Denner.”

“Guess you get to keep your fingers tonight, hm? Aren’t you glad?” He lifted Danny's hand and kissed each finger. Then he stood up, and when Danny said nothing, Bram kicked him hard in the side. Danny winced, nodding frantically. “That’s what I thought. Get the fuck on your feet. Where are we going, little Red?”

Danny looked up, forcing himself to stand even as his injured leg clearly protested. Nate hurried to his feet as well, looking back and forth between them. Was this it? Was this the worst Bram would do tonight?

“I asked you where you think we’re going,” Bram repeated, a promise and a threat in his deep voice.

“Home,” Danny said quietly. Whatever fight had spurred him on out here was gone now that he had already given in, aware that he stood on a tightrope between surviving the night and being left here to bleed out and rot. “We’re going h-home, Abraham.”

"Good boy," Bram said, and smiled, and both of the other men cringed away from the way it didn't seem like a human smile at all.

He held a hand out to Nate, who took it without hesitation. 

It took them nearly the whole night to get back. Nate mostly leaned on Bram by the end, letting his strength and his arm around his back help him along when his protesting legs didn’t want to go any further. Bram murmured to him, supportive things, reassuring things, and despite all his fear and worry for Danny, it was… nice, that Bram cared enough to help him.

And he’d made sure Nate found Danny first - he hadn’t wanted him to die, either. That was something, too. He doesn’t care about him, but he cares about me, and… and maybe Bram can learn. Maybe I can teach him to care about Danny, too.

Jesus Christ Almighty, please keep me from losing myself out here. Please let me stay myself long enough to find a way to save him.

Danny stumbled and limped ahead of them, prodded along by Bram kicking him whenever he slowed down too much, and if his own leg was an agony, he never said a word. He kept his eyes on the ground ahead of him, wrapped in the damp, dewy blanket, and shivered the whole way. 

His hair was a shock of bright and bloody red in the dark, his shadowy form just outside the flashlight’s beam of light. 

When they got back they were all exhausted, even Bram who was flushed with the thrill of recapture. They took a shower, cleaned themselves off, and Bram let Nate dress Danny’s wound as best he could.

He'd been right, the skin was broken from the bear trap's teeth on either side, but the bone was fine, and mostly he'd come away with a bruise that took over his entire lower calf and ankle, just above the metal shackle still welded on.

Danny limped to the kitchen and cooked them breakfast while they let their hair dry, the three of them sitting in silence at the table over plates of eggs and venison steak - Danny kneeling on the floor and allowed to eat with his fingers, but at least allowed to feed himself, and it was normal. 

Nate was relieved, and he hated himself for it. Danny was back, and the wilderness would not get him, and Bram would not kill him. He was relieved at the small, slim bit of mercy, he was grateful for it, and he was a monster just as much as Bram for being relieved that Danny had been forced back here to suffer all over again.

After breakfast, the thing came back out of the closet. "No," Danny said when he saw it, backing away until he backed right into a wall, but they all knew his no meant nothing and he wasn't going anywhere. 

Bram laughed at him, a deep and rumbling laugh. “Yes.”

Danny’s eyes flickered to Nate’s, some wordless plea there, and Nate had to swallow back his protest and look carefully, firmly away. He couldn’t help, and he didn’t want to watch.

Danny let Bram slide it on over his face, the tiny sharpened bits cutting into his skin all over skin, and Nate knew if he looked he’d see Danny slipping away, sliding back into his mind, going loose-limbed and distant. Bram buckled it tighter than he had the last two times Danny had had to wear it, until Danny - or whatever worked his muscles and kept him breathing - winced at the pain. The muzzle right back in place as though it had never left.

Nate didn’t say anything at all. What good did it do to fight? Bram had won, over and over and over again, and they had nothing to fight him with except the thoughts he couldn't read inside their heads.

But he hated the thing, hated seeing Danny muzzled, and some of his helpless love for Bram withered when he saw it again. 

Nate swallowed and thought, I can't make him live like this just for me. 

"Until you learn to behave," Bram said, gently, patting at the metal along his jawline. "How long you wear it this time is up to you, Red. Got it?"

Danny nodded, and when Bram pointed to the mat on the floor, he went. 

“The problem,” Bram said firmly, “is that you don’t understand that you’re our family, now. So we’re going to fix that No matter how long it takes.”

Danny stared at nothing, empty eyes above the metal already beginning to rub raw that same scarred spot on the bridge of his nose, as Bram unhooked the broken chain from the wall and went outside to get a new one. He didn’t move, only stared ahead with empty eyes, as Bram put the new chain on the ankle cuff, running a hand up and down his leg, pressing into his new wound through the bandages, until he whimpered again.

Nate’s eyes closed, slowly. I can't be the reason he breaks. I'm breaking him, too. I'm an accomplice. I'm as bad as Bram because I don't want him to leave.

Bram pushed Danny gently to lying down, then stood and sighed. “I’m going to get some sleep. You can stay with him for a while, if you want, on the couch.”

“Y-Yes, Bram. Thank you, Bram, for letting me stay with him,” Nate said, with sincere gratitude and so much self-loathing he could barely stand it. Once Bram was gone, Nate pulled the thin blankets Danny was allowed up over Danny’s shoulder for him, nearly to his chin the way he liked, showing only his eyes and hair.

Nate waited until the sound of Bram’s breathing in the bedroom had gone slow, deep, and heavy, and then let one hand rest over the metal that held Danny’s jaw shut and locked away his voice, palm resting just over the spot where it was already bleeding. 

Danny opened his eyes, watching him, and Nate leaned forward, resting his forehead on Danny’s temple.

They stayed there like that, Danny lying down and Nate kneeling, for a while. Nate started rubbing his thumbs in slow circles against the metal, first at either side of his jaw and then the bridge of his nose, knowing the slight pressure would help soothe the ache that had to already be starting. Danny closed his eyes at the feeling of relief, letting out a slow sigh through his nose, since he couldn't open his mouth any longer.

Once he was absolutely sure Bram was asleep, he leaned forward to kiss Danny's forehead and whispered, "I’m so, so sorry.” 

Danny pushed himself up all at once and dipped his head, burying it into Nate's shoulder. Nate felt his shirt dampen with tears that leaked out, Danny making low 'hnnnnh, hnnnnnh' sounds in the back of his throat. 

Bram rolled over in the bedroom, murmuring something pleased and happy. Sweet dreams, Nate thought, bitterly.

Nate slid an arm over Danny, to pull him a little closer, and hummed, in a gentle tuneless sort of way, until Danny stopped crying and gradually laid back down on the mat, let Nate cover him up, and fell asleep.

Nate looked over his shoulder at the bedroom, open door giving him a perfect view to Bram’s peaceful sleeping face.

I hate you so much, you son of a bitch, you fucking bastard, for what you've done to him, for wanting to make him just like me.

I love you I can't live without you. I love you so much, you made me love you so much.

I have to figure out how to love him more than you.

[infaethable]

(part one here)

riz gukgak has been legally dead for a week when he wakes up in a hospital bed.

it’s not like in movies, he doesn’t come to consciousness all at once. he catches snippets of conversations and traces of sensations, the relief of his mother’s voice for half a second, the comforting smell of adaine’s bergamot shampoo that always lingers even a few days after a wash, a hand in his, rubbing a thumb across riz’s split and scabbed over knuckles before he finally fights the urge to go back into the sweet relief of unconsciousness and opens his eyes.

it's so bright that he immediately has to beat back the impulse to close them again, his pupils narrowing into slits in order to take in less light. he's got a killer headache, and his mouth is dry as he says the only thing he can think of.

which is understandably, "ow."

fabian, who riz had uncharacteristically not noticed sleeping silently in the chair beside the bed, falls out of said chair in surprise. riz lets a smile spread across his face, the first in a number of weeks.

now that he's more in himself, he takes in the room more and sees that clearly, he's been here for at least a little bit. if he had to guess, a couple of days. there are multitudes of cards on his bedside table, a kids one scrawled over in black sharpie clearly from fig, a handmade one that could be from kristen or gorgug, a lovingly colored in color by numbers type thing unmistakably from adaine, and a number of nondescript ones probably from distant classmates or his mom’s coworkers. on the windowsill is a slightly misshapen glass vase riz recognizes from it’s home on fabian’s dresser, holding a tin flower.  

riz leans over the side of his bed, ignoring the flash of pain from pulling his stitches (which he apparently has now?) and takes in fabian himself, who’s getting his bearings on the floor. he supposes he’s being hypocritical, as someone in a hospital bed, but fabian looks rough. 

he's got dark shadows under his eyes, and his hair, which over the past year had shifted slowly from straightened to loose bouncy curls, is frizzy, and disheveled like he’s run his hands through it too many times for the style to keep. his jacket, usually pressed (which riz made fun of to no end, the idea of pressing a letterman's jacket was so ridiculous-) was crumpled on the chair as if it had been draped over him like a blanket when he fell. and as fabian reaches a hand on the side of the hospital bed to help himself up, riz sees that there are white bandages wrapped around his palms.

riz feels a pang of worry along with the pull of his stitches, so he reluctantly repositions himself, but cocks his head to meet fabian’s gaze and croaks out (he should really ask about some ice chips-), “what happened to your hands?”

fabian finally gets himself to a standing position, blinks the sleep from his eyes, and says, "the ball. you’re- i'm going to get a nurse!" and runs out of the room.

riz gets about ten seconds of confusion before sklonda comes running in, and envelops him in the warmest hug he’s ever had and holds on for dear life.

and then, in a voice laced with more grief than he’s heard in six years, she says, 

"you- riz you were gone." 

and riz says back, trying not to get his mom’s curls in his mouth,

"i texted adaine?"

and sklonda pulls back, hands still on his shoulders, says, 

"and then you went missing for three weeks! they found three and a half pints of your blood on the floor of a laundromat in bastion city, riz you are so!"

and then she makes a noise that riz knows means she is utterly done with his antics and buries him in a hug again.

and a nurse comes and taps sklonda on the shoulder, "mrs. gukgak? we need to check his vitals." 

his mom corrects the nurse under her breath, “as i’ve told you, it’s miss gukgak.” before taking a step back.

riz answers benign questions like what country he's in (solace) what week it is (second week in november) how he’s feeling (bad) all the while craning his neck very subtly to see if fabian will come back in the room. his mom only rolls her eyes once. 

when the nurse leaves, sklonda sighs and rubs her temples, and starts, "riz, you lost- you lost so much blood." 

riz can’t meet his mother’s eyes as shame pools in his gut, says quietly, "i- not all of it was mine."

sklonda tenses, before continuing, "we figured that out when you showed up again, but riz, it was." and her eyes well up as her voice breaks, "if it had been, there was no way- you couldn't have survived it."

riz's brows furrow in confusion, as he prompts, “but it wasn't." 

and sklonda retorts with a frustrated hand gesture, "yes, well the idiots in the bastion city precinct didn't know that, riz." and pauses to make sure he's looking her in the eyes as she continues, "you were legally dead riz. for a week."

and riz's eyes widen as he takes in the information, "what- that's stupid. i was alive. didn't anyone do any divination spells? or locator spells? or, actually, fuck-” riz takes a quick breath as some machine next to him starts beeping, “i um. warded myself against divination and locator spells, but i think dead is a little bit of an overreaction! how does this happen?!" 

sklonda raises her voice, “calm down-” before taking a glance at the steadily rising heart rate monitor, and says in a low tone, “what's done is done, and the important thing is that you're alive."

riz does not calm down, his voice raising pitch slowly, "everyone thought i was dead? everyone?"

sklonda nods her head slowly, says, "we were about halfway through your will, which, by the way, how the fuck did you, a fifteen-year-old boy, get a will notarized without letting me know about it? do you want to explain that?"

riz's eyes are as wide as saucers as he says, "wait wait wait. my will? halfway- how much of my will?"

sklonda furrows her brows for a millisecond in confusion before a revelation washes over her face and incredulous anger sets in, 

"riz gukgak. you were legally dead for a week and that is what you're worried about? YOU LOST THREE PERCENT OF YOUR BODY WEIGHT IN BLOOD!"

and she takes a step back, takes a deep breath, and says, before riz can respond, "i am going to get myself another coffee, and you some ice chips. and you are banned from “deep cover” for- for till college!" 

and riz tries to sit up, but his stitches pull too painfully to ignore, so he cranes his neck to see out of the room as he shouts after her, "like in icarly?!"

sklonda shouts back, “stop pulling your stitches!” before disappearing out of sight. 

riz waits there for a couple of moments spiraling, maybe he got the old letter, fuck, did i remember to switch them out? habit of forgetting things integral to my wellbeing, please don’t fail me now, i promise i will never say anything bad about you again- maybe they didn’t even get through all of them? or maybe he got it but he didn’t open it? was going to save it for his wedding day or something like in that movie with julianne hough- before hearing tentative footsteps, and looks up to see fabian in the doorway, head down, wringing his hands. 

riz is suddenly acutely aware that he hasn’t talked to fabian (besides the brief exchange earlier) in almost a month, which would make it the longest he’s gone without talking to fabian since they met. even in those long and lonely weeks in jail, they found quiet ways to communicate. notes passed daisy chain style, the odd few messages by way of fig or adaine whenever both of their cell doors opened enough to let magic in. 

riz opens his mouth to say something, act like a normal fucking person, but- 

he can't.

and thankfully, fabian does, clears his throat and says, so quiet that riz might not be able to hear it if he weren't a goblin, "i got your letter."

fuck.

riz winces and looks down at his lap, the green of his hands contrasting with the pale blue hospital gown patterned with tiny dark blue polka dots. 

he holds his tongue as he thinks about what to say before finally responding, "you um.” so much for thinking about what to say, he thinks as he levels his gaze at fabian yet again, “i wrote two. i had to rewrite yours, for- reasons. which one?"

fabian takes a step into the room, pauses a moment, then closes the door behind him. fabian’s movements are slow and hesitant like he’s trying not to make any loud or sudden noises. he still won't meet riz's eyes. riz gets the sinking feeling that he knows what letter fabian read. 

fabian confirms it anyway, "the one where you said-" 

and that’s all riz needs to interrupt, his voice painfully high pitched at this point, "we don't have to talk about that. it- it was a contingency plan, just in case, you know, and we can just move past it." 

riz gives a smile that begs fabian to not notice his face is lime green right now. and then as a further misdirect, he adds, "you never told me what happened to your hands."

fabian finally meets riz's eyes, and his expression is. god, riz is so bad at reading faces, and he’d count fabian’s as his top three most readable faces, on the sheer amount he looks at it alone. he’s. confused? hurt? but that can't be true, why would fabian feel hurt? maybe he's mad riz took advantage of their friendship? but fabian denies that there's a friendship to betray at every turn-

his train of thought gets interrupted by fabian's next words, breathy with a hint of annoyance maybe, "i- my sword. burned my hands. when i made my pact." 

and riz's eyes widen even more as horror and panic sets it, what the fuck did fabian do-

"your WHAT?"

fabian winces at riz's gravelly voice, which cracks halfway through so it can't be very intimidating, before saying, "riz, it's not important, if we could just please talk about the letter-" 

riz interrupts him again, "i don't think my feelings for you matter as much as you selling your soul, fabian, why would you do that, oh my fucking gods-"

and fabian raises his voice for the first time, a hint of darkness and desperation riz hasn't ever heard before in his voice, "you were dead riz."

and riz quiets down, shakes his head from side to side a minuscule amount, before saying so quietly it could almost be a whisper, "what does that have to do with anything?"

fabian gets a look on his face that riz couldn't parse in a million years, his lips the smallest bit parted and his head shaking in mirror to riz’s. disagreement? confusion? riz can’t figure it out. 

fabian’s steps echo on the linoleum as he crosses the distance from the door to the side of riz’s bed. riz looks up at him, so much taller normally and even more imposing now, and he doesn’t know how fabian clocks it, but he does, leans down so he’s on his knees and he and riz are at eye level.

it's dizzying, to have fabian's full attention like this. he almost opens his mouth to question what are you doing? but can’t bring himself to break the magnetism of the moment. 

fabian’s gaze bores into his, and he says again, so softly riz thinks for a second that he wasn’t meant to hear it, and so broken that riz never wants to hear it again,

"riz. you were dead."

and for a beat, they just stare at each other.

fabian, slowly, slowly, reaches his hand to envelop riz’s, and it feels familiar. he can’t remember any other time fabian has held his hand, so that has to mean-

riz gets these feelings sometimes, little thorns of hope that dig their way in and whisper, what if- that inevitably disappoint when fabian crushes them underfoot. riz waits for the inevitable. 

the inevitable doesn’t happen. 

fabian leans in the slightest bit so that their foreheads are touching. so close that riz's breath hitches and fabian must feel it. and fabian has tears running down his face, riz doesn’t know how he missed fabian starting to cry, but he is, and fabian swallows a lump in his throat before saying in a pleading tone, 

"riz”

riz realizes that fabian hasn't called him the ball since he came in the room. 

so he says back, those thorns crawling their way into his voice, hope, bloody and raw, 

"yeah?"

fabian swallows again, and then, small and wavering, asks, "would you tell me again?"

and riz squeezes fabian's hand, involuntary, says, a tiny bit breathless,

"that i'm in love with you?"

and fabian nods imperceptibly, forehead still pressed against riz's.

so riz, with the conviction of a dead man, answers, "i'm in love with you."

and fabian inhales, sharply, before saying, "me too."

and then fabian kisses him.

and this isn't like the movies either, the tile is probably hard on fabian's knees, and riz has to crane his head to the side in his half laying down position, but fabian's mouth is warm and he tastes like coffee with so much sugar that it can't be called coffee anymore, and his hand that's not holding riz's comes to rest on the back of riz's neck, fingers threading into riz's curls. 

riz pulls away, takes a deep breath, and says, "you mean that you're in love with me, and not that you're in love with yourself right?" 

and fabian's face spreads into a smile and he laughs like sunlight that riz has barely seen in weeks, answers, "i'm in love with you, riz."

riz's voice is breathy and higher pitched than he would like as he says back, "cool cool cool. would you kiss me again?"

but as fabian goes to lean in again, he hears a voice from the doorway, the same nurse that took his vitals previously, 

"he most certainly will not. your heart rate is way too fast for the amount of blood you lost young man."

sklonda is behind her, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. 

fabian goes to back away with his arms up in a surrender motion, but at the last second presses a kiss to riz's lime green cheek, before he backs away for real. 

riz is already missing his presence as he meets sklonda at the doorway, where he finally breaks eye contact with riz to look her in the eyes. she puts a hand on his back to gently push him out of the doorway and into the hallway outside.

she says, annoyed in that way that means she’s not really annoyed but amused, “go get adaine. she’s been waiting for her turn for ten minutes, and if she waits any longer i can’t say in good conscience that she won’t murder you, and then we’d have an actual death on our hands.”

and sklonda turns back to riz, raises her eyebrows. riz raises his back, and she walks across the room to press a kiss to the corner of his head. the nurse rolls her eyes, mutters something about adventurers, and shuts the door on them.

[hellcaster901]

The Wedding

summary: Y/N is getting married in a few months, and its something that she’s been looking forward to for a while. But she runs into an old coworker, one that she just can’t help feel a connection to. Not only is her best friend not helping, but she’s trying to figure out now what she really wants.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT 

Author’s Note: I was having some really tough writers block for my story Leather Dreams and just started writing this. It’s supposed to be a ONE-SHOT, but if you guys are wanting to a second part, I can come up with something! I also used the same tag list from my Leather Dreams series for this one! Enjoy!

Masterlist

I turned in the mirror, looking down at the long white gown that trickled down like a waterfall, dripping over the small stand  I stood on. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my mom and best friend gush over the quality and beauty of the dress, but yet, it still didn’t seem like me.

“What do you think?” The stylist asked, flaring out the skirts. 

“I don’t know.” I answered honestly. Loving the way he fit my waist, but hating the way it made my breasts looked. I looked like I was almost from the 50s with how pointy my breasts were.

“What don’t you like about it?” The stylist asked, looking up at me. I could see the annoyance in her face. The way she got tired of how many dresses I was trying on. But this is her job, gotta keep her busy some how. 

It’s not that I didn’t like the design, the way the lace laid over the white skirt, and trailed up to the arms and bosom was gorgeous, it was simple yet elegant, but there was just something that wasn’t right.

“My boobs, look at them, I’m going to poke his eye out once I get up there.” I chuckled, running my hands over the very much padded dress. 

“You look fine darling.” My mom said, waving a hand. I could tell she was getting tipsy. The champagne they kept giving her was hitting her harder and harder each glass. 

“If you don’t like it, then look at another one.” Mary smiled, a simply shrugging at me. I bit the inside of my lip, nodding.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think this is me.” I told the stylist.

“No problem!” The woman smiled, helping down from the stand, grabbing onto the trail and following me to the changing room.

***

“I don’t know why I can’t find a dress.” I sighed, lifting the bags onto the chair, sliding the tray of food onto the table. Mary sighed with me, sliding her bags onto the empty seat beside her. “They’re literally all gorgeous. I don’t get why none of them are catching my eye.” I reached for my slice of pizza, taking a giant bite. 

“Just none of them are what you are envisioning.” She chuckled, twisting a fork into her noodles.

“I didn’t envision anything.” I mumbled with a full mouth. “I didn’t want a big wedding.” I swallowed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Adam’s parents are paying for the wedding and Adam is just willing to let them make all the decisions for it.” Mary made a sound of disgust at Adam’s name. “Stop it.” I laughed, shaking my head.

“I just don’t think he’s the one for you. You can do much better than that pervert.” I rolled my eyes, taking another bite. “He’s a jerk and just doesn’t give much thought to you.” 

“Stop it Mary.” She’s done this before, almost tried to convince me when Adam proposed to say no. “I love him, and you literally can’t stop me from marrying him.” I told her, but it almost sounded like I was trying to convince myself. She rolled her eyes, stuffing a fork full of noodles in her mouth. “I’m going to get a refill.” I mumbled, grabbing my cup and heading to the soda fountain. 

I turned quickly once it was full, gasping as I shoulder checked the person behind me. “Oh my god.” The drink spilt slightly getting onto me and the leather jacket the man wore. “I am so sorry.” I chuckled awkwardly, looking up at the man. I was almost speechless as I saw who was towering over me. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” He reached for a napkin, wiping off the liquid. “Good thing it’s leather.” He joked, making eye contact with me. The realization that he knew me clicked, a smile spreading on his face. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah, oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever Negan.” I smiled, setting down my cup. He wrapped a lean arm around my waist, a slight squeeze as a hug. “How have you been?” He shrugged, setting down his empty cup next to mine, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Oh you know, teaching is still a fucking mess.” He chuckled, that gorgeous smile sending chills down my back. “How about you?” He asked, gesturing a hand at me. “Heard you were getting married.” I nodded, almost feeling embarrassed.

“I am, in a couple months actually.” I smiled, covering my left hand with my hand. “Just tried to do some dress shopping and am not having the best of luck.” I chuckled awkwardly again, glancing at Mary. She stared at the two of us, her eyebrows raised, pointing at Negan. 

“Well, congratulations Y/N.” He smiled, reaching for his cup again. 

“Thank you.” I smiled, looking back at Mary who kept point and mouthing words at me. 

“You look absolutely great.” He added, looking over my form. I blushed, brushing back some of my hair. I watched as he took a little too long looking over me, his tongue coming out and swiping his bottom lip. I felt my chest tighten, nerves rushing at me. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” I smiled. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mary stand up, reading to walk over to us. “I should get going, can’t really leave my friend alone for too long.” I lightly joke, seeing a small smile formed on his lips. “I hope to see you soon.” He nodded, watching as I grabbed my cup, turning quickly on my heels and heading straight to Mary.

“Who was that?” Mary gasped, not tearing her eyes away from Negan. I glanced back, his muscular lean back towards us as he filled his cup. 

“That’s Negan.” I giggled, watching as he put a lid on his cup, walking back towards his table where another older man was sitting. We both watched as he sat down, slinging an arm over the empty chair next to him, bringing the straw up to his lips. I could see from the distance the way his throat moved as he swallowed. “Back when I was a substitute teacher, I substituted at the high school he works at.” We both watched shamelessly as he talked and drank his drink, the way he laughed or moved his hands with the man he was with. “I’m not sure who his friend is, but he must be a new teacher there.” 

“He is absolutely gorgeous.” Mary drooled. “A real silver fox.” I rolled my eyes, but kept on watching him from across the food court like creeps. He must’ve felt our eyes on him as he looked over at us, both of us scrambling to make it seem like we were looking at something else. I felt my cheeks grow hot, both Mary’s and I’s cheeks bright red. 

We broke out in a fit of giggles, ducking our heads down and staring at our plates. I took a glance back at Negan and his friend, both smiling and chuckling. Negan looked over at me, our eyes locking for a few seconds. I saw the smirk growing on his gorgeous mouth, sending a wink my way. 

“How did you not tap that?”

“He has a wife Mary.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Either way, I don’t think he’d go for someone half his age.”

***

“Drink Drink Drink Drink!” My friends chanted, watching as I took shot after shot, the liquid burning my throat as it flowed down. 

“No more, no more.” I coughed, shaking my head and waving my hands at the shots. “I can’t take another one.” My friends booed, all laughing as they saw me struggle. “That was way too much.” I laughed, standing up and tripping over my foot.

“You just took them, calm down.” Mary laughed over the music watching as I flipped her off, going to the bar. I sighed as I sat down, running a hand through my hair, fluffing it up and getting it out of my face. 

“Hey, can I just get some water.” I motioned to the bartender, she smiled at me, reaching under the counter and grabbing me a bottle. “Perfect, thank you.” I lifted my hair, reaching around and placing the water on my neck.

“Getting a little crazy over there, huh?” I glance a few seats down, seeing Negan sitting there, an elbow on the counter, a beer in his hand as he watched me. I chuckled, shaking my head. Of course I’d see him here.

“Hopefully not too crazy, I still wanna remember the night.” I joked. He watched as I twisted the cap off, taking a huge swig. “How about you?” I breathed deeply, the cold water rushing down. 

“Oh you know, trying to let some steam out.” He smirked, looking me up and down. I blushed a little bit, taking another drink from my water. “Pretty hellish day at work.”

“Those kids just not running those laps huh?” I laughed, he laughed with me, shaking his head. 

“Just a bunch of shitheads is all.” He sighed, running his left hand over his face. I noticed the lack of a wedding ring he had, my eyes widening slightly. I had to tell Mary. “How about you? We didn’t really get to talk before you ran off the other day.” He smiled. Before I could answer he got up from his seat, moving to the empty seat beside me. 

My heart was racing in my chest as he sat closer, and I could really see how handsome he was. When I knew him a few years ago he was handsome but now… he really was a silver fox. The grey weaves through his facial hair, that shit eating grin that he gave me hasn’t changed either. 

“I’m currently teaching at East High school. No longer a substitute.” I smiled proudly, my finger tracing the edges of the bottle, water coating the tip of my finger. Negan watched me, his eyes moving down to my lips, trailing over my body, down my legs and back up, our eyes meeting once again. 

“How’s your wife?” I panicked, trying to keep the dirty thoughts at bay, but also trying to control the wetness I began to feel between my thighs. Negan sighed, again running a hand over his face. 

“Divorced.” He dimpled said, a shrug and then a swig of his beer. 

“Guess she lost something good.” He looked up at me, a look in his eyes I haven’t seen before. 

“How long have you and your fiancé been together?” He asked, an eyebrow arched. I mentally kicked myself for moving the conversation to our significant others, not really wanting to talk about Adam to Negan. 

“About 2 years.” I pushed back some hair, noticing the way Negan looked over my neck. There was an undeniable tension between us. If it was either the alcohol or we’ve just grown as adults. Either way, I wanted him, and from the way he looked at me. He wanted me too. “He’s a contractor.” I added lamely, wincing at how awkward I am. Negan nodded, listening. 

“Y/N!” I looked back at the girls, seeing Mary standing there, squinting her eyes at me. She looked over at Negan, her eyes widening when she realized who it was. “Just let me know when you’re done.” She waved, a bashful smile on her face. Negan chuckled lowly, waving at her. I knew she blushed, waving back then sitting back down in her seat. 

“I should probably get back.” I stood from my seat, standing before Negan. My heels giving me a good couple of inches. “It’s been great talking to you.” I smiled, placing a hand on his arm, the cool leather cooling my sweaty palms. 

“Hopefully I get to see you again soon.” He smirked, placing his hand on top of mine. I tried to ignore the warmth from his hand, spreading through my fingers and up my arm. I nodded, slipping from his hand and getting back to the girls. 

Throughout the night I knew Negan was watching as I danced, drank, did anything. And every time I looked, our eyes met. 

In no time, I was no longer dancing for myself, letting the alcohol take over, moving my hips and swinging my arms above my head, moving my body for his eyes. 

This was surely something an engaged woman shouldn’t be doing, but the shots were clouding my judgment, and no one was stopping me. From the way Negan was now leaning against the bar, his legs spread and hooked on the railing, watching me closely, he knew what I was doing was for him. An unspoken connection that neither one of us wanted to break. 

“I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of you this entire time.” Mary whispered into my ear, her body moving against mine. I nodded subtly, keeping my eyes away from him. “If you’re not going to mess around with him, I will.” She smirked. 

“I’m getting married.” I fought back weakly, shoving her shoulder lightly. “There’s not any messing around while I have this ring on.” I flashed her the ring, her eyes rolling.

“Live a little.” She smiled, throwing her arms over my shoulders, “You know you want to.” I looked over at him, the beer to his lips as he drank, his eyes trained on me. 

“I can’t Mary. I can’t do that to Adam.” I wanted to. I wanted Negan to just ruined me. But I couldn’t do that to Adam. Not months before my wedding. That internal war was waging, and one side was winning. 

“Who said Adam had to find out?” Mary whispered in my ear. I leaned back, looking at her. I knew she didn’t like Adam, and her convincing me, trying to convince me only proved how much she disliked him. I thought for a moment, glancing back at Negan than at Mary. 

“I’ll be back.” I whispered to her. A huge grin grew on her face as I pulled away from her, her hand landing a smack on my ass, a grin on both of our faces. I walked towards the bar, Negan watching me the whole time as I walked past him, sending him a flirty look as I got to the bathrooms. 

I checked the woman’s stall, keeping it unlocked as I stood before the mirror. “I'm an idiot. He’s not gonna come in here. He probably doesn’t even know what that fucking look meant.” I’m going to look like a complete idiot. I just know it. 

I jumped as the door of the bathrooms opened slightly, revealing Negan’s gorgeous face as he stood there. I stood with my back against the sink, staring at him as he walked in, shutting the door behind him, the small click of the door being locked ringing between us. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the alcohol in my system telling me to just jump him, but that small part telling me turn and run and go back to Adam. We stared at one another for a moment until he spoke.

“How come we’ve never hooked up before?” He whispered, taking steps towards me, looking at me like I was his prey. 

“You were married.” I whispered back, the nervousness and excitement evident in my voice as he got closer. He could hear it, the smirk on his face growing.

“And now?” he asked, stopping before me, snaking his hands behind me, leaning against the sink. He was inches away from me, his legs brushing against mine slightly, his breath hitting my face as we stared at one another, his hazel eyes watching over me. I took a deep breath, the smell of his leather, musk, and beer filling my senses. “You’re engaged.” I nodded, my breaths coming out swallower and swallower each second. “And you’re in the bathroom with someone who isn’t your fiance.”

“Are you trying to convince me to leave, or what?” The boldness was coming through, every atom in my body telling me to just unbuckle his pants and get down on my knees. “If that’s the case, I’ll leave right now.” He only smirked, pressing his body against mine, the evident bulge in his pants pressing against my hip. I shuddered, already feeling how huge he was. 

This was wrong in every way. I was getting married in 7 months, and I’m here, ready to risk it all for an older man I had a crush on a few years back. 

The tension between us was running high, his eyes looking over my face for any indication that I didn’t want to do this, and much to his surprise, he couldn’t find any. Without any words, he slammed his lips against mine.

And just like that, the dam broke.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, our kiss frantic and passionate as he grabbed my hips, pulling me harder against him, his thick bulge straining against his zipper, begging to be in me. I moaned as he held me, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip, asking for permission when he knew he already had it. I opened my mouth, our tongues clashing together, fighting for dominance, and without a doubt, I was ready and willing to be submissive to Negan in any shape or form. 

“You can back out now.” He mumbled against my lips, moving to my neck, peppering kisses along my jugular, his beard leaving behind a sting as he moved. “We can act like this never happened.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, trying to keep his distance from me. His lips attached to the soft point where my neck met my shoulder, tugging a low moan from my lips. He pulled back, staring down at me with plump red lips, a devilish look to him. “I’m serious Y/N.” He let me think, let me decide my options, but as of right now, I couldn’t of anything else other than getting him balls deep in me.

“Fuck me, and we can worry about the consequences later.” I whispered to him, moving my hand to his hair and tugging firmly. The devilish smirk came across his face, showing his white teeth.

“That’s my girl.” And with that, we were a mess of hands and lips. Each of us trying to kiss one another, our hands rushing to remove clothes that no business staying between us. I slid my hands under his leather jacket, pushing it over his shoulders, the metal loops clinking against the tile. I moaned as I felt the muscles in his back flex as I moved my hands, the thin black shirt no doing any justice in hiding him. “Do you know how hard it was not to fuck you every second at the school.” He moaned against my ear, his teeth scraping my earlobe, a chill running down my back at his words. “How hard it was not to bend you over each and every desk and fill you with my cum.” 

“Jesus Negan.” I moaned, tiling my head to give him more access.

“Everytime I saw you in one of those fucking skirts-” his hips thrusted against my hip, a low moan leaving his plump lips. “-And seeing you bend over in those, I had to jerk myself off to the sight in my office.” I gasped, his words sending moisture straight to my cunt. I couldn’t even respond as he turned me around, my back pressing against his chest, both of us looking in the mirror, his mouth attached to my neck. “How bad I wanted to have you ride me in my office, bouncing on my lap.”

“Negan, please.” I whimpered, arching my back, pushing my breasts out for his eyes. He greedly accepted, his hands moving up and  grabbing onto my breasts, a low, deep moan leaving his lips.

“What do you want?” He whispered into my ear, our eyes locking onto one another through the mirror. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.” I watched as his hands moved from my breasts, down to my pants, messing with the button and the zipper, teasingly pulling it down. “Tell me Y/N.”

“I want your cock.” I whimpered, his fingers trailing the skin the peaked out from my shirt. “Please Negan, I need you.” I sounded desperate, and that’s exactly what Negan wanted. His fingers worked quick as he unbuttoned my pants, tugging at the zipper and tugging them down my legs, leaving me in my black undies. I slipped my shoes off, kicking my pants off as he cupped my sex. I moaned loudly, throwing my head back onto his shoulder, his thin fingers rubbing against my clothed cunt. 

“You’re fucking soaked.” He moaned, dipping his fingers into the waistband of my panties, brushing past the small bush and instantly dripping a finger between my folds. “Holy shit.” I gasped as he rubbed my clit, his fingers touching every and any spot he could reach. I planted my hands against the sink, arching against Negan, my ass rubbing on his thick bulge. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” I begged, gasping as he traveled lower, sliding a long finger into my entrance. I moaned loudly like a bitch in heat.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned, thrusting his finger into me, adding another finger in, stretching me out for his cock. I was a whimpering mess against him, bucking against his body as he fingered me, his hand becoming covered in my juices. He pulled his hand away, a whimper leaving my lips as I watch him bring it up to his mouth, sucking his finger. My mouth hung open as I watched him, his eyes shut, his mouth latching onto his finger. He was enjoying it, and it was only making me wetter. 

“You taste so fucking sweet.” And like an animal, he grabbed at my clothes, yanking my black panties down, tugging my shirt over my head and leaving me in only my matching black bra.

“I don’t think this is fair.” I chuckled lowly, watching as he greedily grabbing at me, touching every part of my body.

“How come?” He mumbled in my ear, trailing kisses down to my shoulder.

“You still have all your clothes on.” I smirked, biting down onto my bottom lip. I felt him smile against my shoulder, his hands leaving my body as he took a step back.

“Go ahead.” He smirked. I turned instantly, staring up at him as he smirked, holding his arms out, letting me do what I needed to do. I grabbed onto his shirt, tugging him closer, clashing my lips against his.His large hands wrapped around my waist, holding me to him as we kissed, his thin lips moving against mine. 

I couldn’t help feeling that this was right. That this, being here with him in this dirty bathroom, was right. 

I moaned pulling away, tugging his black shirt over his head, throwing it onto our pile of clothes. I breathed deeply, looking over his chest. Negan was a thin man, but he was lean, anyone could tell from one look of him that he could fight if he needed to. 

With a wink at Negan, I lowered myself to my knees, Negan cursing at the sight before him. I bit my bottom lip, undoing his belt, ripping it off and throwing it to the side as I got to his zipper and unbuttoned his pants. He leaned forward, holding himself up on the sink, watching as I teasley pulled his pants down, hooking my fingers onto the boxer briefs he had on. 

“Oh my god.” I mumbled to myself, watching as his cock sprang free from his pants, bobbing up and down. I looked up at Negan, seeing the smug look on his face. He knew he was well gifted with such a cock, and me being surprised only boosted his ego. He quickly stepped out of his pants that pooled at his ankles, kicking them to the side in a hurry.

I wrapped a hand around the base, his cock twitching at the connect, an animalistic growl from Negan as I pumped him. Without warning, I leaned forward, stuffing as much of his cock as I could into my mouth, my hand pumping what I couldn’t fit.

“Jesus Christ.” He moaned, a hand coming to the back of my head, gripping onto my hair tightly. I bobbed on his cock, the tip hitting the back of my throat, gagging as keep him deep in my throat. I pulled back with a gasp, a thin line of spit connecting my bottom lip to the tip of his pulsing cock. I worked my hands over his length, moving my spit around to coat him, the wet sound becoming music to my ears. I took a deep breath, going back and deep throating him. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned, pushing my head further down on his cock, his hips thrusting. I gagged, keeping my place as he held my head still, thrusting his cock into my mouth. “Jesus your mouth feels so fucking good.” 

He pulled his cock out with a pop, air rushing to my lungs, spit covering his cock and dripping down my chin. He reached down, lifting me up and setting me on the sink, the cold feeling great against my warm body. He leaned down, kissing me harshly and roughly, his hand stroking himself. “If you kept going, I would’ve busted in your mouth.” He chuckled, a smile finding its way onto my face. “I’d rather cum in this tight pussy.” My eyes widen, watching as he got down onto his knees, spreading my legs apart. “God, look at you.” He praised, reaching up and gliding a finger through my lips. I threw my head back, hitting the mirror, moaning at his fingers. “Fucking soaked.” I looked back down at him, watching him gather my juices on his finger, sucking my taste off. With a smirk, he leaned forward, dragging the flat of his tongue over my cunt.

“Oh my god.” I gasped, reaching down and lacing my hand through his hair. I tugged harshly against the strands, earning a moan from him, vibrating against my soaked center. He licked at me, swallowing my juices, wrapping his lips around my clit, letting his tongue work magic against me. “Jesus Christ.” I moaned, the sex god himself looked up at me, a mischievious look in his eyes as he continued to eat me. He moved his head side to side, sucking onto my clit. I felt my legs shaking, my thighs closing around his head as I felt the growing bundle in my stomach ready to explode.

“Negan.” I cried, feeling the waves crashing through my body. My hips bucking against his face, my legs shaking as he guided me through my climax, lapping up my cum that slipped from my dripping cunt. Negan pulled away, his tongue licking around his lips, the hair on his chin glistening from my juices. I watched as he smirked, using the back of his hand to wipe away at his mouth. He stood, a smirk on his face as he towered over me, pushing himself between my thighs, his large hands rubbing and grabbing at the them. I was breathing heavily, watching as he studied me, looked over my body. He was taking mental pictures of me as I sat there, legs spread, needy and willing to take his cock.

“You want this?” he asked, wrapping a large hand around his cock. I looked down, groaning at how red the tip was, precum leaking out. I watched as he reached up, his thumb collecting the liquid and rubbing it over his cock. I nodded, drooling at the sight before. “Nuh uh.” Negan smirked, hooking a finger under my chin, lifting me to look at him. “Use your words, baby girl. Do you want this?” He asked, taking a step closer, rubbing the head of his tip against my clit, slapping it down. I jerked against him, whimpering.

“Yes Negan. I want your cock. Please.” I begged, spreading my legs wider, a smirk on my face as Negan groaned, looking down between us. “I need you to fill me up.” With a growl he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me to the edge of the sink, lining himself up to my entrance. 

“We can stop now.” He reminded me, looking down at me. “Act like it never fucking happened and-” I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling me to me. He thrusted into me, both of us groaning loudly. His cock stretching me, the slight pain only mixing with pleasure.

“Shut up and fuck me.” I whispered into his ear. 

“Fucking dirty girl.” He smiled, slowly pulling out, leaving the tip in me and thrusting back in. A small scream left my lips, the girth and size of him stretching me wider and better than I’ve ever been stretched before. “Holy shit, your so fucking tight.” He groaned, grabbing a hold of the back of my head, keeping me to him as he buried his head into my neck, and his cock in my cunt. A string of ‘please’ left my mouth, the tip of his cock hitting my g-spot each and every thrust. 

We both breathed deeply, our moans and breaths mixing together, sweat rolling down our backs as he completely let ourselves go to the feeling of one another. 

Negan slid his arms under my legs, hooking my knees on his arm, tugging me closer to him, holding me as I sat on the edge of the sink, spreading me even wider for his cock, hitting deeper than before. “Negan.” I cried, feeling almost like he was splitting me in half, and if that’s the way I go out, that’s the way I go. 

“Take it baby, Take this cock.” he moaned into my ear, thrusting harder. The sound of skin slapping filling the air. I knew by the end of this, this bathroom was going to be smelling like sex. “Finally being in this pussy feels like fucking heaven.” He moaned, thrusting hard, his balls slapping against my ass. 

“Don't stop, Negan.” I cried, feeling the growing climax in my stomach. “Please, don’t fucking stop, You feel so fucking good.” I begged, wrapping my arms around his neck, digging my nails into his back. He groaned, thrusting harder as I dug my nails in. “I want you to cum in me.” I whispered in his ear, Negan’s thrust losing rhythm, a guttural sound coming from him.

“Don’t fucking temp me.” He growled in my ear, his hands on my hips tightening. I pulled back, moving his head to look at me. He breathed deeply, hard breaths coming out and fanning over my chest.

“Fill me up with your cum. I want it.” I pleaded, clenching around his cock. He moaned, pulling out. “What?” I gasped, a small yelp leaving my lips as he grabbed my hips, flipping me around, bending me over the sink.

“Take my cock like a good girl,and you’ll get this cum.” He whispered into my ear, our eyes locking through the mirror. I nodded, watching as he stood up, grabbing onto his cock and sliding right back into me. 

We both moaned at the different angel, his cock getting deeper, my pussy clenching around his thickness as he pumped himself. He reached up, both hands grabbing onto my shoulders as he began moving, thrusting harder than before. “Fuck.” I gasped loudly, Negan’s hand coming up and covering my mouth. I watched as he lost himself in me, his eyes shut, his stomach flexing as he fucked me, his arms holding onto me as he brought both of us closer and closer to our sweet release. My legs shaking as I stood myself up, my body tensing as I felt the waves of my orgasm coming.

“You gonna cum for me?” Negan asked, his thrust hitting each and every spot. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you baby girl?” I nodded, his mouth still covering my mouth as he began losing his rhythm. My pussy clenched around his cock, my ograsm ripping through me, my moans muffled from his hand as I bucked against him. “Holy shit baby.” He groaned, low deep growls as his cock twitched in me, releasing his cum into me, coating my walls in white. “Fuck fuck fuck.” Negan growled, his fingers digging into my shoulder as he pumped his cum into me. I trembled against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as the waves of my orgasm crashing through me, the way he filled me and the way he kept thrusting made my head spin. Negan fell against me, his sweaty chest sticking to my back as we tried to catch our breaths.

I felt like I was on cloud 9, almost like my whole body was simply weightless as I stood there, bent over the sink, with man taking a quick rest on my back. 

We stood like that for a few moments, letting each other collect ourselves. I whimpered as Negan stood, his limp cock sliding from me, the empty feeling being replaced with his cum slowly leaking out of me. “God damn, you’re looking like a fucking pornstar.” I looked at him through the mirror, the proud look on his face at the mess he made of me. I rolled my eyes, picking myself up, moaning at the soreness in my thighs. I turned leaning against the sink, watching as Negan grabbed his pants and underwear, tugging them on. He glanced at me as he fixed his belt, a smug smirk on his face. He closed the gap between us, leaning down and placing a kiss on my lips. It wasn’t like before where it was rush and heated, more of a reassuring kiss, letting me know that this wasn’t going to be far from his mind in a while. He pulled away with a smirk, reaching down and grabbing my clothes, setting them on the sink. I watched as he grabbed my shirt, fixing it and holding it up by the shoulders. “Arms up.” he smirked. I giggled as I did what he asked, lifting my arms, Negan sliding the shirt and dressing me. He gave me a small smile down at me, watching as I reached for my panties tugging them on and then tugging my pants up. 

I tried to ignore the fact his cum was now dripping into my underwear, but also the fact there wasn’t any awkwardness between us. It almost felt like what was going on was natural, that we’ve done this a million times before. He quietly watched as I grabbed my shoes slipping them, watching my every move.

“So what now?” He asked, watching as I stood before the mirror, fixing myself. I sighed, the guilty feeling settling in, the fact that I just cheated on Adam filing my thoughts. I turned towards him, his thin tall figure leaning against the door, the leather jacket back on, a look of pure satisfaction on his face. 

“I don’t know.” 

~~~~~

Tag list

@xojdm-luv  @startwiththeridingcrop @courtneynh 

@batmanbatmanbatmanbatmans-bitch 

@lilucifergrl @simam12 @skullag @emmalbg​ @marihernanadez

[snorlaxlovesme]

This is just uh. A thing. A long thing. I actually drafted it back in July during Pride Month but chickened out before I could post it. But then I discovered that Ace Week exists and what better time to rant about the quintessential Ace Experience(TM) amiright?

.

I’ve struggled to define my sexuality since I was like 17. I can remember me and some of my girl friends going to the mall and talking about boys. I was currently teetering around a relationship with one of our male friends and they asked me to define why I was attracted to him and I couldn’t. They didn’t really think anything of it, moved along in the conversation and said “well X isn’t my type, so I guess I wouldn’t get it.” But the conversation stuck with me.

1. Because I never really thought the idea of a “type” was real. I didn’t think people ACTUALLY arbitrarily decided who wasn’t worthy of their affection based on a random set of archetypes. I thought they were shallow for saying that about him. I thought it was a mean concept to not let someone be “your type.”

2. Not being able to identify what I DID find attractive about him was....off. Like sure, he looked fine, but tbh he looked like an average teenage white boy and I couldn’t really pick out a physical identifier that made me want him. That seemed like a bad thought to have about one’s significant other.

Needless to say, that non-relationship went nowhere and I eventually told him I wasn’t feeling it. I thought I just wasn’t mature enough for relationships yet.

At age 18 I had my first kiss. Another male friend of ours. Another relationship I’d been teetering around. I had told him multiple times that I didn’t like the idea of dating him so soon after I had broken things off with X. It felt weird, too soon, let’s hold off. But part of me also didn’t like the fact that I was 18 and had never been kissed. It wasn’t at the forethought of my mind all the time, but it lingered back there. Maybe it was because, puberty-wise, I was a late bloomer. Maybe it was because, in my friend group, I was always somehow dubbed “the innocent one.” I didn’t want to continue being late for every major marker in life, so when Y took me up on a hill at sunset and said “I’m going to kiss you now” I let him.

It was not what I thought it would be. All the magical descriptions of kisses in YA books were drastically over-selling the experience. The first one was nice enough, but I couldn’t help but thinking “this feels exactly like kissing a relative” and being a little relieved and little disappointment that the sensation was exactly the same. The second kiss was much worse because he put his tongue in my mouth and I quickly discovered I hateddd that.

I thought that maybe it was Y’s fault. I didn’t like him the way he liked me, so there was no magic. No spark. But also maybe I was just doing it wrong? He did kind of imply that I wasn’t the best kisser (god, how romantic) and so maybe the more we did it the more I would like it?

We went on one more date after that, and almost every time we made eye contact he tried to kiss me. It was horrible. I spent the better part of the day actively trying to not look at him because I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t want to do it anymore. That seemed like a bad thought to have about one’s significant other.

Needless to say, it didn’t work out. I’d like to say I handled the situation as maturely as with X, but in reality I ghosted this kid for like 2.5 months and eventually sent him a facebook message saying I wasn’t feeling it. I figured I wasn’t mature enough for relationships yet.

College I had no time for relationships, or so I told myself. Maybe I didn’t have the mental capacity for them because I was too busy wishing I would get hit by a bus (higher education did not go great for someone with undiagnosed ADHD). I kind of assumed everyone also felt the same way, but people were coupling up around me left and right. Everyone had the same stressors I had, maybe even more so, and yet they had time to form new relationships and have noisy sex in the dorm room next to mine. I didn’t have time, though.

My roommate asked me in those first few years if maybe I was asexual. I actually got mad at her for even implying it. Asexuals were emotionless robots who were so repulsed by sex they didn’t even want to THINK about it. I talked about sex with my friends all the time! I masturbated when she wasn’t around like every other day! How dare she even insinuate that I might be one of those people. I just wasn’t ready to be in a relationship yet.

And sure, I’d been on tumblr for years at that point. I’d been relatively educated about the LGBT community and its various factions. But nothing about it screamed ME. All those people seemed to have the same shared experience of knowing who they were since forever, of experiencing some form of discrimination based on who they were. I had always been straight, right? And no one’s ever discriminated me for who I liked. 

It was weird, though. Getting older and hearing more and more people talking about sex and just like, NOT feeling the same way. Was talking to my friends in a group chat one day, and one of them was head over heels for one of her coworkers. Not in love, but I-wanna-rip-off-your-McDonald’s-uniform-and-fuck-you-right-here-in-the-break-room (do McD’s even have break rooms? whatever) lust. She’s like, “you know that electricity you feel when you’re next to someone you really, really like. where every time you get close to them you feel this MAGNETISM and your entire body feels hot--”

--and all I could think of was how that sounded EXACTLY how Bella described her feeling towards Edward in Twilight, and just how ridiculous it sounded. That’s some YA bullshit, that’s not real.

And then our other friend in the chat was like “yeah.”

Oh. Well I guess I just have a lower sex-drive than you guys. That’s whatever.

I didn’t really identify as asexual until I saw a post about an aspec identity called autochorissexuality. 

The term autochorissexual describes a subset of asexuality which is defined as: a disconnection between oneself and a sexual target/object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacking any desire to be a participant in the sexual activities therein.

That...kinda sounded like me....

Like I said, I masturbated and all that jazz so I assumed I couldn’t be asexual. I literally loved orgasms. I read smut and watched porn to get off like I assumed the rest of the world did, not even really realizing that a lot of people...get off...thinking about people doing stuff....to THEM.

I do not think about people I know when I masturbate. It feels incredibly weird for them to pop up in any of my fantasies, and I kinda just assumed that meant I wasn’t attracted to any of them (which I’m not), so it was fine. It didn’t really occur to me that I literally NEVER fantasize about myself when I get off. If I read smut I’m thinking of the characters. If I watch porn I’m thinking of the actors. Never am I imagining someone hot and sexy doing hot and sexy things to me. I’m not even very good at getting off based on my imagination alone, unless I’m basically writing my own smut in my head and imagining what THEY enjoy. The thought of imagining things being done to ME feels weirdly...embarrassing? I don’t know. I don’t dig it, so I don’t think it. 

Again, it did NOT even occur to me that that might not be how other people operated.

I also didn’t know that asexuality COULD have subcategories like that, other than aromanticism, which was an identity I toyed with for a while and ultimately am still unsure about.

But learning that liking orgasms =/= allosexual was kind of a wake-up for me. 

After learning about autochorissexuality (which, while I am incredibly, infinitely grateful that someone coined that term so I could learn more about myself, I will never identify as because it is a mouthful and I honestly don’t know how to pronounce it), I began identifying as asexual. I was 21 at the time. I’m almost 26 now.

A couple people know. Mostly people who follow me on tumblr that I also know in real life. I never really had to “come out” to them per se because they saw my posts and rolled with it. Wasn’t a big deal. I think that I actually had a conversation and TOLD those friends in that group chat, but that didn’t feel like coming out, more like all of us finally coming to a realization about me we should have figured out a lot earlier. Also, they’re friends from tumblr, so they’re not the types to make a big deal out of that stuff either.

Even though I have a couple of tumblr friends that I skype with regularly, I don’t really bring it up in conversation that much. Like two of my irl friends (who, again, follow me on tumblr) know, and we don’t really talk about it much either. It’s there, we all know, but if I don’t bring it up, they don’t either.

I’ve never really “come out” before. Had to sit someone down and have the conversation. Part of me thinks it’s kind of pointless, because whether or not I’m sexually attracted to others isn’t any anyone else’s business, really. It doesn’t super impact my work life or my life with my friends or family, so why does it need to be said? If I decided I liked women and wanted to date one, that would be a big change that I’d have to address to someone. But me being asexual is just me continuing to not have sex with anyone, the way I always have. Seems like a weird thing to cause a fuss about.

But it’s part of me. And I want to talk about it sometimes. 

But I don’t even know how that conversation would go. Asexuality is a relatively invisible subset of the LGBTQIA+ community. Like, it’s the last letter, the one that often gets cut off. And when people do bring up the A, it’s for Ally. I’m not gonna get into the discussion about that, I don’t know enough queer history to form a hot take, but the point still stands that many people don’t know about asexuality. And while it seems relatively easy to explain, I guess--

”I don’t experience sexual attraction”

--it also feels way more complex than that. And I’m not very good at articulating why I’m NOT something else when I have a hard time identifying what that something even IS. I was the kid who thought having a “type” was shallow and mean! It didn’t occur to me that people’s sexual fantasies INCLUDE THEMSELVES AS PARTICIPANTS. So how do I explain my lack of attraction to people?

But maybe I’m being too reductive of the masses. Like, I’m not the brightest bulb in the bunch but *I* was able to learn what was asexuality was on my own. Who’s to say others haven’t? Maybe I won’t need to give an informative slideshow every time I come out to someone.

...But what if I’m wrong? What if I get into a relationship one day and I find myself INCREDIBLY attracted to my partner? What if I get into a relationship with a WOMAN one day and realize that I was les/bi/pan this whole time? I know that demisexuality exists, I know that sexuality is a spectrum and people are constantly learning about themselves and evolving. I don’t want to downplay that or..or...invalidate that. I know. But I’m an idiot. And I can’t help feeling that if I come out and commit to fun new adjective about myself and then all of a sudden that adjective doesn’t fit me anymore I’ll be labelled as fraud for forever and ever. 

I know that’s probably unlikely for the most part. But it’s still something that’s there in my mind that I feel every time I think about talking about it.

I don’t know. Part of me doesn’t know why I’m writing this post because there isn’t some grand conclusion to my narrative or sweeping answer to my problems. My story continues for as long as I live and maybe things will change and maybe they won’t. I’d like to be able to come out one day and say it. To my sisters. To my coworkers. To some random dude hitting on me who seems kind enough to understand there’s a reason I’m reluctant to flirt back. Probably not to my parents. I don’t know if I want to present the slideshow to them about my lack of sex life, nor do I think they would handle my act of vulnerability with grace or tact (boomers, y’know).

I guess I can end this post by saying that it’s not all bad. Not being “out” kinda sucks, but right now, knowing is enough. There are a hundred other micro situations from my past similar to the ones I spelled out above that made me wonder what was wrong with me. I wanted to be able to like someone the way other people did, to have a normal relationship, but I couldn’t force myself to do it and I didn’t know what was stopping me. The whole am I just broken  conversation whirled through my head many a night in college when insomnia prevented me from sleeping and depression stopped me from giving myself a fucking break. It sucked, and maybe it’s a little grim to think of asexuality as a diagnosis to a lifetime of symptoms, but that’s kind of what it felt like.

And that’s not bad! Why? Because i know that I’m not alone and that this is NORMAL . Being asexual is not being broken! It’s something that many people identify with! And honestly that thought alone thrills me enough to make this whole ridiculous narrative worth it. There’s a whole world of people out there feeling the exact same way as me, and none of us are wrong for feeling that way. It is unreal the kind of confidence that gives you.

My friend from earlier, the one who desperately wanted to bang her co-worker, she said something to me the other day that struck me with how far I’ve come in terms of my identity. I was sobbing to her on the phone about a shitty thing in my life, as one does, and she pointed out how the strangest things will get to you while others don’t even have an effect. If someone mentions how I don’t have my drivers license at the ripe old age of 25 I legitimately have a breakdown on the phone with her about it, but if people make jokes about me being a virgin I don’t even bat an eye. 

And it IS weird. If someone would have made a virgin joke at me at age 20 I probably would have spiralled into one of my late-night, crying-into-my-pillow sessions about how much I fucking SUCK at being a human, but at age 25 it’s just...whatever. As someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction, why WOULD I have had sex already? If I don’t seek it out, don’t want it, it’s not gonna be a part of my life, you know? And I don’t care. Past me, without this identifier, would have cared deeply. Current me could go her entire life without having sex and I don’t think it would drastically effect her mood. 

It’s weird how one little word can turn things around for you like that.

[octothorpetopus]

Half-Past Midnight (Rafael Barba x Sonny Carisi)

It's 12:32 a.m. and Rafael Barba and Sonny Carisi are still awake.

A/N: okay, so technically I wrote this last December, but I never put it on tumblr so I figured I’d share it here, because I thought it was pretty good! thanks for reading, and I always read and appreciate any comments or feedback you have!

There was only one office still lit up at 1 Hogan Place this late at night. In the darkened DA’s office, it seemed to Rafael Barba as if it were the only light on in the whole of Manhattan. Laughter echoed through the empty building, a rare combination of Sonny's unrestrained, drunken giggles and his own hysterics, which sounded unfamiliar without the usual air of constraint. There was no need for constraint now, with a half-empty bottle of tequila between them, jackets, vests, and ties all discarded and littering Rafael's desk. He had his feet kicked up on his desk, not caring if Sonny could see his solar system socks.

They had been drinking for almost two hours now, sipping tequila out of coffee mugs (Rafael's custom-made #1 ADA mug, a secret Santa gift from last Christmas, and Sonny's favorite glow-in-the-dark Batman mug. It was the only mug that Rafael allowed to stay on the shelf below the coffee maker in his office), and they had been working long before that, but when Rafael suggested breaking out the tequila, Sonny had suggested that maybe they shouldn't get drunk while they worked. It didn't matter, anyway. They had reached a dead end in the case- no one more to subpoena, no more witnesses, no more evidence. They weren't going to win, and that was clear. So they drank, and they smiled, and they laughed, because what else can you do?

They were playing Never Have I Ever now, having exhausted all of their normal conversation topics (politics, the Rangers- that's it), and having played far too many rounds of ADA/defense attorney/cop Fuck, Marry, Kill, a game which, despite their best efforts, they would never be able to clear from their minds. Both of them still had all of their fingers up, and the game had just begun.

"Alright, never have I ever... had sex with a coworker." Rafael rolled his eyes and took a long sip. Sonny snorted. "Really? Who?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know." Rafael muffled a laugh at Sonny's horrified expression. "Not that it's that bad, I just don't want it to be weird the next time you see each other." Sonny's eyes widened even further. "...I'm just making it worse, aren't I?"

"Can you give me a hint, at least?" Rafael considered for a moment. He liked how easy it was to fuck with Carisi, because he could fuck with Rafael right back.

"Okay, fine. She's not a cop." Carisi visibly relaxed, then tensed.

"Wait. If she's a woman, not a cop, and I've met her, then... oh my god. Oh my god." He finished off the rest of his drink and refilled it. Then he chugged half of that, his green eyes watering.

"Hey, it's not even your turn!"

"I'm sorry, but no amount of alcohol will ever wipe the image of you and Rita Calhoun having sex out of my head!" Rafael snorted.

"I never said it was Rita." But Rafael's poker face got weak when he got drunk, and he flushed a little.

"Jesus Christ, Rafael! Was it at least before she became the enemy?"

"Yes. Mostly."

"Fuck." Sonny made a retching noise.

"You know, for a catholic boy, you've got a hell of a mouth on you."

"Fuck you." Rafael took another sip. "And it's your turn." He considered momentarily.

"Never have I ever... lost a karaoke contest." Sonny sneered and gulped tequila.

"Not all of us have Broadway-worthy musical talent, Rafael."

"Yeah, but not everyone has your ability to never, ever sing the right note, Dominick."

"Karaoke night with the whole squad was a horrible idea and I still resent you for it."

"That's just because you lost."

"Shut up." Sonny tapped his fingers on the side of the mug, a familiar action that meant he was thinking hard. "Never have I ever gotten suspended from work."

"Low blow."

"Takes one to know one."

"That doesn't even make sense in this context!" They both burst out laughing, and by the time they were done, they weren't 100% sure what they'd been laughing about in the first place. "Never have I ever been in love." Sonny stopped mid-chuckle, the amused expression on his face fading into confusion and curiosity, clearly jarred by the sudden change in mood.

"Never? Like, never?" Rafael just nodded. "I... how?"

"Don't know. It just never happened."

"Oh." That seemed to be all Sonny could say, because he repeated it. "Oh." He tried to smile, but it didn't go any further than a small curve in the corner of his mouth. "That took an unexpected turn."

"Sorry." Rafael coughed. "I'm a shitty drunk. All over the place."

"We've gotten drunk together enough times that I know this is the time I'm supposed to walk you home. Come on." Sonny stood, but Rafael didn't move. "Let's go." Rafael still didn't move, just gestured towards the window with his chin. Sonny followed his gaze and they watched snow fall onto the sidewalk below for a few minutes. It had begun to pile up, just wet enough to be icy.

"I live twenty blocks away, it's the middle of the night, and it's snowing like a Hallmark movie on Christmas. Do what you want, but I'm not going."

"What, you're just going to sleep in your office?" Rafael pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a thick fleece blanket. "Oh," Sonny replied, his question answered.

"The armchairs by the fire are decently comfortable if you don't have back problems. You can stay, if you want." Sonny regarded Rafael oddly for a moment, somehow detached and yet curious.

"Thanks." He sat back down. Rafael's head tipped back. All of his limbs were heavy with exhaustion. They didn't talk for a bit, just drank and watched the snow fall. It was falling faster now, somewhere between a flurry and a blizzard. Every so often, Rafael sneaked a few furtive glances over at Sonny, watching the reflection of the snowfall in his eyes. He was struck with a vision of Sonny standing out in the snow, flakes catching his eyelashes, coming to rest in his hair, on his coat, drops of water trickling down his forehead as it melted. "What?" He was snapped from his thoughts by the realization that he was staring, and he had finally been caught.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat and flushed pink.

"You lied."

"Hm?" He met Sonny's eyes again.

"You lied."

"Yeah? About what?" Now Sonny blushed, but he didn't look away.

"When you said you'd never been in love. You lied."

"How would you know?"

"You've got a tell."

"I do not-"

"You look to the lower right and scratch your left ear." Rafael froze, thinking. "Trust me, you do."

"Oh."

"So, why would you lie about that?" Sonny arched an eyebrow. "You had no reason to. It was your turn to come up with the question. So you were, what, trying to convince yourself? Why?” Rafael couldn’t even tell if Sonny knew the answer. Hell, he didn’t know if he himself knew the answer. Sonny stood up again and circled the desk, sitting on the other edge so close to Rafael that Rafael could see the shallow rise and fall of his chest. “Why?” He asked again, and this time, Rafael answered. He wound his fingers tight around Sonny’s collar and pulled down. The space between them seemed infinite, but closed within seconds, and then Rafael’s lips were on Sonny’s, a position he’d imagined they would be in only in his dreams. In fact, this had happened in his dreams a hundred times in the last two years. Not always in his office, sometimes in the empty squad room or their favorite dive bar or even the secluded courthouse stairwell. And just like in his dreams, Sonny didn’t pull back. He pushed forward, leaning into Rafael, his movements intense as he slid one hand into Rafael’s hair, tangling his fingers into the gray-black mess. His other hand rested lightly on Rafael’s cheek, radiating warmth into his already warm face.

His own hands had somehow teleported to Sonny's waist, one or two fingertips brushing over bare skin where his shirt had ridden up. Sonny reached back just for a moment to yank the rest of it out, never once breaking the kiss. Rafael pulled back first, his breathing shallow and heavy.

"Are you-?"

"Yes." Sonny knew what the question was before it was even asked, and his own answer long before that. He leaned back into the kiss, this time reaching up to unbutton his own shirt, then Rafael's. They slid to the floor, gathering Rafael's soft, quilted blanket around them, not that they needed it. As cold as it was outside- and it was plenty cold, a near-blizzard- the office was bathed in a soft gold warmth as they melted into each other like snowflakes on the window pane.

"Thank you." Sonny snorted as Rafael rolled onto the floor beside him, breathless.

"For what? My d-"

"If you say your dick, I'll throw your clothes out the window."

"Okay, well, I wasn't gonna say that." Still, he quieted.

"Thank you for making me- for letting me- Christ. For wanting me, I guess." Rafael turned onto his side so that he was facing Sonny. "It means a lot. It means everything."

"Don't thank me for that. It wasn't a choice." Rafael chuckled.

"Way to make a guy feel good about himself."

"That's- shit. That's not what I meant. I meant... I would want you no matter what. I didn't choose to want you, I- I had to. It's like... it's like I'm drowning, and you're the lifeguard who's giving me mouth-to-mouth. In more ways than one, if you know what I-"

"I got it."

"But I would want you even if it were my choice. That's just who you are to me."

"Oh." Rafael brushed Sonny's cheek with an uncharacteristically tender thumb. "We should probably get dressed. I don't know what finding us like this would do to Carmen, or god forbid the DA, but I don't want to find out."

"Right." Sonny stood and offered Rafael a hand. "So, do you remember which clothes are yours and which are mine?"

Carmen did find them the next morning, although they were both very much dressed. She found them asleep in Rafael's twin armchairs, pushed together so that the blanket could be draped over both of them. Sonny's head was resting on Rafael's shoulder, and their hands were interlocked in a vice grip. They looked rather peaceful. Rather than wake them, she just adjusted the blanket, closed the blinds, and shut the door, allowing them a few more moments of peace and quiet.

The snow outside stopped falling.

The storm was over.

[mynameseri]

after party

party died downstairs, if the small gathering of your sister in law and a couple of her coworkers could be tagged as one. cake leftovers carefully stored in the fridge as you took the remaining wine to the bedroom, akutagawa happily rested on your shared bed trying to recover from the mild exhaustion social interaction brought to him; he was so lucky.

  an unknown feeling of wholeness made home in his chest since the day he met you and only grew bigger with time, as he watched you interact with gin and slowly befriend her, as he took in the effort you put in everyday to make sure he felt loved. 

the curtains danced in the careless nocturnal breeze, akutagawa breathed in the fresh air and closed his eyes feeling too much like a content feline; he unbuttoned his shirt patiently waiting for you to finish your nightly routine. more often than not he allowed you to apply some products on his face, loving the softness of your fingerprints against his face and the small pecks you’d steal every time he’d close his eyes, as if he couldn’t see you coming from a mile away.

  although he was surprised you didn’t asked tonight for this indulgence, akutagawa understood that maybe this was you giving him some space.

  “baby?” you call from the end of your bed, the mattress slightly sinking under your bent knee. you are not moving to his side so akutagawa opens his eyes to see what is holding you back; an unsure expression taints your beautiful face. lover lip between your teeth and hesitating eyes. “do you like it?”

  how dare you ask after all this time stealing his breath and speeding his heart if he liked it, you could present yourself wearing a sack of potatoes and he’d still feel weak in the knees; not that he didn’t appreciate the sight of you wearing nothing but a sensual mix of silk and lace. in fact he could already feel a very specific part of his anatomy already struggling.

  he wanted nothing but to grab you and ravish you in the most animalistic way conceived by men, yet he decided to take his time. with a swift movement he sat on the edge of the bed, your body between his legs as his hands wandered over the exposed skin of your stomach; goosebumps erupted on his cold hands wake.

  “do i like it?” akutagawa echoes the question, you nod to his mesmerized eyes as they devour the intricacies of the lace covering your bosom and leaves a featherlight kiss just in the border where the fabric frees the skin. he stands to his full height, gentle hands cup your cheeks. “i love it, princess”

  you smile, satisfied and relieved, he knows he hasn’t loved you good enough if the ghost of doubt still lingers on your mind. the executive needs you to understand that you are his be all end all, his one and only, his biggest strength and secret weakness; never a man of many words he decides to take matters in his own hands.

  akutagawa will let his body tell you what his mouth can’t elaborate.

  he kisses you, gently, slowly letting all of his love to seep into the kiss. lips moving in the promise of future birthdays and loving nights just like this, his thumbs caress your cheeks with the tenderness he’ll put into your care; he intends to make love tonight.

  but as your anxious hands unbutton his shirt and wander over his chiseled torso he realises you have another idea; akutagawa smiles into the kiss. “what is it babygirl?”

  you breathe in his words, open mouths gasping for air and eager for more. “i need you”

  with no room for replies you latch onto his mouth, your body pushing him to sit on the bed and before he realises you are sitting on his lap. your mouth is relentless, raw lust on every kiss as tongues meet in a sinful ritual; tonight you are different.

  you hands wrapped around his neck as your whole body clings onto him, hips moving ever so slightly against the place that needs you the most. he groans into the kiss and he wants to be angry at you for making him this worked up so quickly with only a bit of making out.

  you were one hell of a woman.

  deft fingers make quick work of his shirt as it slides down his shoulders and is thrown to god knows where, akutagawa couldn care less, not when you are pressing hot open mouthed kisses along his neck, not when you purposefully mark his collarbones with love bites,

  “mine” you speak to his skin and he is damn sure that every cell in his body responds to the silent command, darkened eyes meet their reflection in his. “you are mine”

  he raises a brow, a smile playing on his lips. “is that so?”

  “yes” with a swift movement you left him prisoner of your delicious body and the silk sheets, long locks cascading down your face, feminine hands placing masculine ones over his head rendering him defenseless. “you are mine, babyboy. tonight and always.”

  he can’t think for a quick comeback, not when he has you like this, displaying all of your charms and biting his lip just enough for the pain to arouse him. you wanted to take control? he was fine with it, he’ll be your pretty little submissive baby. he’ll let you fuck yourself stupid with his cock and he’ll beg over and over again for the privilege of touching your skin.

  “tonight and always, my queen”

  there’s a shift on your demeanor, the seductress wavers for a split second until a bright smile breaks the expression. “don’t look at me like that, i’m trying to seduce you”

  half a complaint half a laugh your words are sweet and airy, your forehead rests on his shoulder as the grip on his hands vanishes. he feels you giggling on his chest and he lets out a laugh of his.

  “on my defense i was trying to make love until you went on full dominatrix mode”

  you gasp and hit his chest, still giggling like an embarrassed schoolgirl. akutagawa laughs in an airy sound that comes from the genuine bliss in his soul from having you by his side, he kisses your temple; sex could be funny sometimes.

  akutagawa moves you to the middle of the bed, laugh dies down little by little and you lay on top of him, the two of you quiet in a moment of contemplation. chest to chest, breathing the same air; another year within the other’s lives.

  slowly move your leg against his, grey eyes looking at you as an answer from your unvoiced calling. “want to make love?”

  he smiles and you know you are in serious trouble from all those times you’d seen that smile before. in a heartbeat he is on top of you, arms supporting his weight, his hair grazes your face when he leans in for a kiss. 

  “maybe later, right now i want to fuck my pretty little whore into the next week”

--

OH MY GODDDDD I cannot get enough of this!!!!!!!!!!!!! You have blessed me yet again with a masterpiece and I love you dearly for this 😫😫😫😫😫💞💞💞💞💞💞 HDUFHFS I swear I will be reading this just nonstop cuz it makes my heart do fucking backflips!!!!!!!

[wheresfury]

Death of Me (part 1)

~Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/fem!reader, minor Carol Danvers/fem!reader

~Warnings: Mommy kink, spanking, degradation, dirty talk, choking, roughness, anal play, anal fingering, butt plugs, vaginal fingering, dildos, Dom/sub, cruelty.

~Word count: 3,028

~Summary: You’re finally ready to make things more serious with a co worker, thinking you’d never see the mysterious Natalia Romanova ever again. You couldn’t be more wrong.

~Authors note: Hello! I couldn’t wait to finish the whole thing so I’ve decided to split it up for you guys. I will start writing the next part most likely tonight and there could actually be 3 parts to this, possibly 👀 anyways hope y’all enjoy!!

~Previous part to this series is on my Masterlist

———- ⧗———-

You sit back in your chair at your office. You’re a consultant to companies who are going under, you try your best to give them the advice they need to keep afloat. You chew on the tip of your pen as you squeeze your thighs together. It’s been three months since you slept with Natalia, the killer, and you cannot get her out of your head. To ease the ache you would sometimes sleep with your coworker, Carol. She was sweet and funny and pretty damn good in bed. Just not as good as a certain red headed killer. She couldn’t be harsh with you even after you asked, it just wasn’t in her nature and you could respect that. You cross your legs and continue to chew out your frustrations on the pen in your hand.

“Need some release, babe?” You drop your pen onto your desk and sit up straight. You look at Carol sheepishly. She walks over to you, smirking and hands you the file she was working on. You clear your throat.

“Thank you, Carol. That will be all.” You blush as she raises her brow. She leans in closer to you and brushes her lips with yours.

“Are we still on for tonight?” You nod your head in a sign of agreement as she closes the gap and kisses you deeply. You moaned into the kiss and leaned closer to her trying to deepen it. She pulls away and gives you a wink.

“We can continue this later, baby girl.” You’re sure your face is as red as a beet. You want her head between your legs right now. If only you weren’t at work. You sigh as she walks away and turn to your computer. You look at the clock and see you only have half an hour left. You decide to open google and research Natalia. This isn’t the first time and just like every time before you get nothing. Only the articles about her wanted status and all the gruesome murders she has committed. Absolutely nothing about who she is only what she is, a killer. You bite your lip at the wanted picture, the only picture of her you could find. She’s very secretive and impossible to find. Obviously if you were a serial killer you wouldn’t want to be found. You shake your head and exit out of your computer. You need to stop obsessing over this woman, who you will most likely never see again. You have a good thing going with Carol, why mess that up for someone you shouldn’t even be with. I mean it’s obvious she wanted nothing to do with you after she left you without a word. She didn’t kill you though so that must be something right? You look at the clock again and realize only ten minutes have gone by. You huff and get up to grab your things to leave early. You stop by Carol’s office on the way out and lean against the door frame. She looks up at you curiously. You decided to throw away any caution to the wind and see if Carol wants a more stable relationship.

“Uh… Carol… do you maybe want to make tonight a date instead?” Her eyes widen and she jumps up and makes her way towards you placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Do you really mean that, Y/N?” You nod and smile at the excitement on her beautiful face.

“Of course, Carol.” She still looks a little skeptical.

“Are you absolutely sure? I thought you just wanted you know… to have fun.” You sigh and look into her chocolate colored eyes.

“I know, Carol but I’ve been thinking maybe we should try, you know?” She brings you into a hug and squeezes tight.

“I would love that, Y/N.” You smile wide and hug her back circling your arms around her waist. After a good while you both pull away reluctantly. She gives you a soft kiss on the lips.

“I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“Sounds perfect.” You give her one last kiss on the lips and turn to leave, not without receiving a slap on the ass from Carol. As you make your way down to your car you feel as if someone is watching you. You look around trying to see if you can tell if someone is even looking at you. You shake your head at the mere thought someone would be interested enough to. You get into your car and start the drive home. You turn on the radio to fill the silence with some nice music. As you come up to a red light an all black motorcycle pulls up next to you. You turn to check the motorcycle out and it stuns you to see a woman on the bike. You cannot see her face due to the blacked out helmet and you wish you could. Your eyes widen as the helmet turns to face you. Your eyes snap back to the light, your hands tightening on the steering wheel. You can still see them turned towards you and you gulp. You get a very familiar feeling and are unable to make it out. The light turns green and the motorcyclist speeds off leaving you in a cloud of smoke. You shake you head and slowly make your way home. You pull into your driveway and notice that same motorcycle parked next door. You thought your neighbors were on vacation, maybe they rent it out whenever they are gone. You turn off your car and grab your briefcase from the passenger seat. You make your way to the front of your house and pause. Your door was unlocked. You were positive you locked it this morning, you always double check. You debate whether or not you should go in. Fuck. Now you wish you had some sort of defense other than your keys. You slowly turn the door knob and tip toe in to your home. You turn around and close the door quietly. As you make your way to the kitchen to get a knife the room light turns on.

“Cheating on me, kitten?” You stand still, shocked. Oh my god. It’s her. You gulp and slowly turn around. You nearly fall over when you see her leaning against the wall, arms crossed with one leg against the wall. She looked just as gorgeous as you remembered. She wore a brown jacket this time with a black tank top and black jeans with boots to match. Her hair has grown out as well, a little past her shoulders. She smirked darkly.

“On your knees.” You immediately comply with her demand, dropping to your knees in the middle of your living room floor. She sauntered over to you slowly, taking the sight of you in.

“Well, kitten? What do you have to say for yourself?” You blink rapidly trying to remember what she asked you. Then it dawns on you.

“I’m not cheating on you, Mommy. I mean we’re not dating.” She clicks her tongue and cups your jaw making you look up at her.

“I told you that you were mine and I would keep you around. Did I not, kitten?” You shake your head confused and she tightens her hold on your jaw.

“You just left, I thought it was a one night thing. Also you don’t own me, I’m my own damn person.” She releases your jaw and flicks you on the forehead. You look at her appalled and get up off your knees. She looks at you with a penetrating glare.

“Get back on your knees, where you belong, slut.” You glare back at her.

“No fucking way. I have to get ready for my date tonight. You don’t own me, Natalia.” Her face makes a visible twitch, her eyes widen slightly. She looks truly shocked at your knowledge of her name.

“How do you know my name, kitten?” She asks coolly making a shiver run down your spine. You clear your throat and roll your eyes at her. She grabs your neck in her left hand and slams your back into the wall of your living room. You hands try to hit her anywhere they can reach.

“Stop it, you bitch. How do you know my name?” She punctuated each word by slamming you into the wall every time. You grunt at the rough treatment.

“Your wanted picture was on the back of a newspaper. Your killing spree had not gone unnoticed. How have you not been arrested yet?” Her face becomes stoic once more as she grins a callous smirk.

“Why kitten, I’m the best money could buy. I’ll never get caught.”

“What are you a prostitute?” You say, just to piss her off. Her smirk still firmly on her lips she pulls you in the direction of your kitchen. She slams you into your kitchen table before roughly turning you around, bending you over the surface.

“Fuck. What are you doing?”

“Shut the fuck up, slut.” She brings a hand down on your blue jean covered ass. You jump at the slap, not expecting it. She rubs her hands all over your ass squeezing here and there.

“You see, kitten. I’m a spy who specializes in taking out a target-”

“So you’re an assassin. Why didn’t you just say so? Why use so many fucking words. I don’t have the time.” She growls at your interruption. Your eyes widen as she reaches underneath you to unbutton your jeans.

“What the fuck, Natalia!” She tugs your jeans and underwear down to your knees. She starts raining down spanks on your ass.

“You fucking brat. That is not what you’re supposed to call me. You’re already in so much trouble for fucking someone else. Someone other than me touched this cunt. My cunt.” You start to cry as she continues to spank you harder with every word leaving her mouth.

“Mommy, please! I’m sorry!” You cry out as she spanks you in quick succession.

“Whose ass is this, kitten?”

“Yours, Mommy!”

“Whose dripping cunt is this?” She asks cupping your soaked folds. You moan at the intrusive touch.

“Fuck. It’s yours, Mommy. All yours!” She hums and brings her palm down hard on your pulsating cunt.

“If it’s mine, why did you let that cunt fuck you? You’re such a desperate little slut you’d go to the first bitch who’d fuck you? Spread your legs for her? Pathetic. Do I need to get rid of her for you?” You start to panic, not wanting her to kill Carol.

“No, please. Not Carol, Mommy. Please don’t hurt her.”

“Oh don’t worry, kitten. I won’t be the one hurting her. You will.” You hesitate in speaking.

“What- what do you mean, me?” She slowly strokes your folds as she speaks.

“What I mean is that you, kitten, will break poor little Carol’s heart. I want you to make her cry, baby doll.”  You shake your head as best you can in your position.

“No I will not. She means too much to me. I won’t do it, Natalia.” She growls and brings a hand down hard on your sore ass.

“Don’t fucking disrespect me, bitch. You will do it otherwise I’ll fucking kill her. Do you understand?” Each word punctuated with a slap on the ass. Tears are running down your face at her words.

“Mommy, please. Please don’t make me.” You sound absolutely shattered at the mere thought of hurting Carol. She hums and rubs her hands over your ass and thighs.

“It’s your own fault, kitten. You shouldn’t have fucked someone else, you slut.” You roll your eyes at her possessiveness. Her hands grab your ass and squeeze, her nails digging into the  soft flesh of your ass. You release a scream at the pain, the burn of her nails against your sore cheeks.

“Never roll your eyes at me, kitten.” She releases your ass and steps back. You move to get up when she speaks.

“Stay still, kitten. I’m not done with you yet.” You hear her leave and then return seconds later. You jump as her hand comes into contact with your pussy.

“You’re dripping, kitten. Fuck. You love this, don’t you, kitten?” You whimper as she pulls on your dripping folds.

“Fuck. Yes, Mommy. I-I love it.” She hums and slowly pushes in two of her fingers. You moan at the sensation. She fingers your pussy for a while before she pulls out. You’re about to groan when you feel an object at the entrance of your pussy. You gasp as she starts to push a dildo into your soaked cunt.

“That’s right, kitten, take Mommy’s toy.” She thrusts the toy in and out a few times before leaving it in all the way. Your hands grip the end of the table, turning white at the pleasure.

“Where is your lube, kitten?” Your head makes a visible tilt in question.

“Why-Why do you need to know that?” She slaps your reddened ass making you jump.

“Don’t question me, kitten. Now unless you want to take this butt plug with no lube I would say something. For your ass’s sake.” Your eyes widen at her suggestion. You’ve never fooled around with that. You clear your throat and take a deep breath.

“Listen, Natalia. I’ve never done anything like that before. So I’m going to say no but thanks anyway.” You hear her laugh as she pinches you on the ass. You squeal as she steps away into your room. You look back as best you can in your position.

“Where are you going?!” You hear her rifling around in your drawers and tossing things around. You huff and lay back down waiting for the inevitable. You’re almost asleep when you feel a cold water like texture on your ass. Your eyes widen as you feel her rubbing the lube on your asshole.

“That’s a good girl, kitten. Took me a while to find it. You have a lot of cleaning to do later. You’ll be cleaning stuffed with my toys, baby doll.” Your eyes roll back as she slowly enters one of her fingers into your asshole.

“Such a good girl. I’ll go nice and slow for you, kitten. You’re doing so well so far.” You moan as she slowly thrust her finger in and out. The sensation was odd at first but now it’s becoming quite pleasurable. You feel her add a second finger and you almost lose your mind at the pleasure.

“Mommy, please. Please may I cum?” She stops thrusting holding her fingers deep inside you.

“You’re that much of a slut you’re ready to cum already? So desperate and wet from getting your ass fingered? Such a dirty whore. No you may not cum. You’re not even close to being allowed to cum. You’re in for a long night, kitten.” You cry out as she pulls her fingers out of you before choking on a moan as you feel the plug enter your ass. You feel utterly full and stuffed to the point you can barely think of anything else. She pulls up your underwear and jeans and gives you a tap on the ass.

“Up, kitten,” You get up and turn around feeling light headed “how are you feeling?”

“Stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey.” You see the faintest smile on her lips at your answer. She clears her throat and takes a step back.

“Good now, go get ready for your date.” You look at her incredulously.

“I’m not going.” She looks at you darkly and you start to sweat. You shakily smile and awkwardly giggle and point towards your room before quickly walking into it and shutting the door. You lean against the door trying to catch your breath. All you can feel is how full you are and how you wish you could rub one out but there is an assassin on the other side who will know. You shakily get ready for your doomed date with Carol. You don’t know if you can go through with it but you have to or she will kill her. You want to call it a bluff but you know she’s serious. You look in your mirror one last time, your skin slightly glistening from sweat, both out of fear and arousal. You take a deep breath and smooth out some wrinkles in your dress before stepping out into the living room.

“What a tease, kitten. You’re going to break Carol looking like that? You’re more sadistic then I thought you’d be. I admire that, kitten.” You frown at her as you rethink your outfit. Maybe you should dress down make it seem like you don’t care, even though you care too damn much.

“What exactly is it that you want me to do?” She makes her way towards you and brings a hand up to grab onto the back of your neck pulling you closer. Your breath hitches as your lips hover near hers. You feel her breath on your lips and you whimper, she has yet to kiss you at all and you’re dying to know if they are as soft as they seem.

“You want me to kiss you, kitten?” You nod in acknowledgement and you feel her hand squeeze the back of your neck.

“Please, Mommy. I want to kiss you so bad!” She smirks and blows air onto your lips making you shiver.

“I’ll kiss you, kitten. If you do everything I tell you to do tonight. No questions asked. Am I making myself clear, slut?” You blink rapidly as the realization of what’s going to happen hits you. You’re nervous as to what she will make you do to hurt Carol. You squeeze your eyes shut as you imagine Carol’s face, tears streaming down, red with hurt. It pains you to do this but dammit if you didn't like it a little bit besides you'll make it up to Carol one day. You reopen your eyes and meet her green ones.

“Yes, Mommy. Perfectly clear.” Her smirk turns dark as you grow pale. Well fuck.

———- ⧗———-

Natasha Series Tag list: @theunknowinglys, @whitecanary444, @kdragonwrestling, @kello-unknown, @baeszler

Forever Tag list: @cheethos

[thecozywhaleshark]

King of Hearts (pt. 7)

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Flirting as a means to get another jealous. 

Summary: You had a work event that you had to show up to dateless... only problem is, Jin is there too... and he's not alone.

The only problem about being in a fight with Jin is that you had an event on Friday and suddenly... you had no date.

As far as your team knew, Jin was your boyfriend and everyone loved him… and you couldn’t exactly show up with another man.

So you decided to show up solo, tell everyone that Jin was sick or out of town - it wasn’t fully a lie, you sure as heck didn’t know where he was on a daily basis.

You're fine. You can do this on your own. It's not like it's the first time.

Taking a deep breath, you enter the restaurant and are looking around for the right table when your gaze drifts to the side and you forget how to breathe.

Oh shit.

Sitting at the table kitty corner to your own, is Jin...and he's with another girl.

It's probably a client. Just a client. Client date. Of course he has more than one. Why wouldn't he? Look at his stupid face. His stupid suit. You're stupid to think you were the only one. Fuck why does he have to look that good?

You idiot.

You thank the gods above that no-one from your table has spotted you yet and quickly head back out the door, pulling out your phone as you push through the revolving door.

"Hey Hobi? Yeah, it's y/n. Listen... about that offer..."

~

By the time Hobi arrives, you've gone back inside and are seated at the front of your table surrounded by your entire team, hoping nobody notices Jin sitting across from that blonde...or how he is slowly stroking his fingers up and down her arm.

You flush hot and look away, turning back to listen to your manager when you suddenly hear a cheerful call of your name.

"Y/n!!"

You turn around with a smile, standing up from your seat and walking over to great him.

"Hobi!" You give him a hug and he puts his hands on your arms, looking at you up and down appreciatively.

"Hot damn. You look amazing."

You giggle at his compliment and link your arm through his own, leading him back to the table and introducing him to your team.

"Everyone, this is Hobi. He's a friend of mine. Jin couldn't make it, so Hobi is being a gem and filling in as my date. Please be nice to him."

There are chuckles all around the table and introductions are made. You try to keep your focus on Hobi, but you can't stop yourself from glancing at Jin out of the side of your eye.

He had raised his head at the sound of your voice and his name and now looked at you wide-eyed as you pulled Hobi into the seat beside you.

His gaze narrowed as you pressed your hand to Hobi's arm and thanked him for saving you. "Honestly, thank you so much. You're a lifesaver."

Hobi chuckled and patted your hand, "Honestly it's no problem. I happened to be free tonight." He smiles brightly at you then smirks, leaning in. "Also I noticed Jin was here with a client. Trying avoidance techniques today are we?"

You blush and lean in, trying to give him a run-downed version of the facts. "My team thinks we're dating."

He snorts, trying to cover it up with a fake cough and accepting a few pounds on the back from your interview coach before he replies. "I see the issue."

You nod and open the menu with a smile, nodding at something your editor said.

Hobi follows your lead and opens his menu, ordering a round of appetizers for the table, winning your team over.

"So, what's the play?" He whispers, closing his menu and reaching for his glass.

"Flirt with me," you whisper back, reaching under the table and giving his knee a squeeze.

He gives you a sharp glance. "Won't Jin notice that?"

"Exactly." You give him a winning smile and hope that Jin notices.

Laughing, Hobi shakes his head and leans back in his chair, causally stretching and dropping his arm over the back of your chair. "So we're playing the jealousy game here."

You giggle and scooch your chair a little closer to his, until your knee is touching his. "That is, if he wants to play."

Hobi glances across the room and smirks, nuzzling the top of his nose into your hair. "Oh, if I know Jin, he will."

You smile in satisfaction and glance over to Jin's table. He's giving you the evil eye while his date plays with his fingers, pulling his hand to her reddened lips and smearing them with her lipstick.

You narrow your eyes. Oh, bold move girlie.

Jin smiles at the girl and tugs their intertwined hands back, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

Blushing and determined, you lean close into Hobi and giggle in his ear. "Pretend I'm saying something funny."

Hobi throws his head back and laughs, sliding his arm from the back of your chair to your shoulders, stroking his fingers along your arm. In return you lean over and press your hand to his thigh briefly.

Across the room, Jin pulls the rose out of the vase on the table and gives it to the blonde with a wink, blowing her a kiss. She laughs and takes it from him, lifting it to her nose and batting her eyelashes.

You narrow your eyes and ignore him for a few minutes as your meals arrive and enter into discussion with your team.

When you next glance over at Jin, the blonde is sitting on his lap, playing with the hair at the back of his neck and you bristle at the sight.

Deep breaths.

You close your eyes for a moment then look over at Hobi and steal a bite of his food off his plate with a quirk of your eyebrow.

"Upping the game, are we?" Hobi murmurs, reaching up to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"How far would you be willing to go?" you ask, stroking the bottom of his foot with the toe of your shoe.

He grins. "I have an idea on how to get Jin over here... if you're willing."

You reach for Hobi's wine glass and take a sip out of it, smirking at him daringly. "Go for it."

Without another word, Hobi leans forward and presses his mouth to yours.

You hear a yelp and the scrape of a chair, followed by a thump and a cry of outrage before you look up. You see Jin standing beside your table, and all your coworkers, mouths open, looking between the both of you and the blonde, now sitting on the floor.

"Can. We. Talk?" Jin grits, shooting daggers at Hobi.

You nod and stand up, placing your napkin on the table. "I'll be back in a minute everyone," you smile brightly at them as Jin turns and begins to stalk out of the restaurant, expecting you to follow.

Hobi grins brightly and gives you a double thumbs up. "Good luck," he mouths and you shake your head, following Jin out.

Jin leads you out the front doors and around to the side of the building, walking towards the back so there's less likely of a chance of you being overheard.

You follow him at a distance until he suddenly stops, turning on his heel.

"What the actual FUCK do you think you're doing?" He spits, crossing his arms and glaring at you.

"What I'm doing?! Oh, that's lovely, coming from you." You huff, crossing your own arms and meeting him at a standoff.

"I was doing my fucking job," he growls, stepping closer. "In case you have forgotten, I'm a fucking escort. I have clientele."

"How could I ever forget that? I fucking hired you. I am one of your so called, 'clientele.'"

You stare at each other for a minute, breathing heavily.

"And if you so hired me, then what the fuck were you doing with Hobi?"

You roll your eyes. "Why do you care?"

"You're my client."

"Yeah well, you're being a shitty escort or business partner or whatever you want to call yourself."

He quirks an eyebrow, his face turning redder. "I'm shitty?" He laughs dryly. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I've fucked you many a time."

"Yeah, and you've fucked me over just as often."

He winces at your words and tries to draw in a shaky breath, stalking away from you for a minute and running his hand through his hair.

"I apologized for that."

You let out a harsh laugh, throwing your head back. "HA. No. You did not. All you did was succeed in being a dick."

His eyes flash and he steps closer. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry that you didn't get fucked this month? Well, newsflash sweetheart. I'm popular. I give a good dicking. In fact, I'm known at the company for being 'worldwide handsome.' I'm that desired. So sorry if you felt like I couldn't give you my full attention, because I can't."

You stare at him for a moment in shock. "Wow. You're that full of yourself?" You snort and shake your head. "I know for a fact that you've been passing off your clients on other friends of yours. Or is it just me?"

He shrugs, giving you a smirk. "What can I say? I've been busy."

"So why..." you step closer to him and tilt your head to meet his eyes. "Do you have such an issue with me taking Hobi to an event that you're oh too busy to attend?"

Jin hates the way his heart is pounding out of his chest, but he can't stop the automatic response that comes out of his mouth.

"I do actually. Do I need to be worried about getting an STD with you?"

You stake a sharp intake of breath and he sees the offense that turns to indignation flash in your eyes.

"You know what?" You step closer, your eyes burning as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

"If you're going to act like this I want out of our contract."

You watch his face redden and his jaw tighten before he huffs out a breath. "Fine."

"Fine."

You turn on your heel to head back into the restaurant when Jin suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you against his chest, kissing you hard.

"You drive me crazy," he groans against your lips, slipping his hand up to the back of your head so he can kiss you deeper. "Out of my fucking mind."

You unwillingly moan against his mouth, letting his tongue in and god it feels good to be kissing him again. To be this close to him again. But things can't be the way they are.

"Jin," you whisper and he groans deep in his throat, angling his mouth over yours to kiss you deeper.

"Jin."

He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. "Yeah?"

"We... can't. We can't do this."

You press your hand against his chest and close your eyes, gathering the energy it will take to push yourself away from him.

"Why not?" He cups your face in his hands and strokes your cheeks tenderly. "Why can't we do this?"

"Because..."

He nuzzles his nose against yours and kisses you gently. "Because?"

You let out a huff and push gently at his chest. "Because my feelings have changed."

He stills and lets his arms fall to his sides.

"Changed how."

You hate the way he's looking at you, how his gaze has become so distant you can't read him. He doesn't feel the same way about you. Your inner voice whispers, and you swallow the urge to tell him you can't do it anymore because you want to be with him. All the time. And only with him. But it can never be, because his job won't allow him to be only with you.

And you won't be responsible for making him choose between you and his job. Especially if he never caught feelings. So you play it safe.

"Changed enough to know that I can never be your client. Not anymore."

"Why?" he asks, and all you can do is shake your head.

"I just...can't. I'm sorry."

You step back and turn away, and this time, he lets you go.

His mind his whirling with all the ways he could stop you, all the ways he could demand a better answer than that... but the words don't come to him until long after you've gotten into your car and driven off, leaving him standing on the edge of an empty parking lot.

"But I love you," he whispers, not stopping the tears that decide to track their way down his cheeks and onto the collar of his shirt.

But only the wind answers, rattling an empty coke can across the lot and into the ditch on the other side.

Part 8