#i had one week left on this stupid placement

[dilatorywriting]

Me wanting nothing more than to write so badly because my brain is finally functional, but naturally that means that now my body is not so I’m just lying here like

(That’s the secret they never tell you about vet med. oh you hear all about the trauma, and the angst, and the debt. Of course. But never how many sneaky lil zoonotic bugs are lying in wait to absolutely wreck your fucking intestines ✌️😔)

[remlionheart]

Hello beautiful

Can I put in a request where Megumi and reader both have a partner but are fully attracted to each other and Megumi of course plays it stoic, indifferent etc. but then something happens( I haven’t figured out what event exactly, maybe they get drunk at a party?I’ll leave it up to you 🤍) and they succumb to their needs( a little coercion from Megumi oops) and Megumi is just so pussy drunk, whiny, non sensical blabbing mess and reader baby traps him 🥴🥴

I just need Megumi so bad, he plagues my mind every second of the day… I need therapy and Jesus. Thank you if u decide to go with it, love everything you do 🤍🤍🤍

Hi pretty ♡ Sorry to say - no Jesus here, but maybe this can be therapy for both of us bc I’ve been thinking about this ask heavily since I got it. And what better time to start a depraved lil drabble than at midnight on the night of a full moon? ����✨

((as always, all characters are aged up to 21+, if u don’t enjoy that feel free to scroll along ♡ all trigger warnings are in the request itself, lemme know whatcha think, luv u ✩࿐࿔ ))

⋆˙⟡MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Megumi’s new girlfriend was sweet, kind, cute. Always by his side no matter what and tonight was no exception.

She was smiling at you with her hand wrapped delicately over his arm, asking you how you’d met your date… who was also, at your side and wrapped around your arm. He was cluelessly bantering back and forth with her while you and Megumi exchanged the same pointed look.

It was subtle, the way his blue eyes lingered on your boyfriend’s hand placement, watching him gently squeeze your hip as he laughed at a joke that two of you had missed entirely.

You'd only been been dating this most recent fling for a few weeks - it was hardly anything to be jealous of, but the fact Megumi had noticed at all gave a sick part of you satisfaction. It was an unspoken rivalry you had with him, one that you typically found yourself on the losing end of. He’d fuck someone, so you would too. He’d date someone, so you would too. He’d show up to this stupid fucking party with a date, so you would too.

It was the same pitiful dance that you'd been doing for the last year and a half, your feelings for him always right on the tip of your tongue but never at the right time.

Watching his girlfriend rest her head on his shoulder as the four of you continued on with your mindless banter was your own personal hell and yet, you said nothing. Instead, mirroring them, clinging onto your own date harder as you pretended to care about whatever work story was being tossed around.

The night carried on like this for the next hour or so as the once small house party started to evolve into something rowdier. The music getting louder and the living room getting more and more crowded as you knocked back three more drinks.

You were dizzy, trying not to lose your balance while you excused yourself from your group to go venture upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your boyfriend had offered to come with you, but you insisted that you were alright, shooing him away with a smile as you told him to go get another drink.

He seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want that to end just because of your pathetic urge to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want you back.

Your footsteps came to a clumsy pause, a small, drunken laugh escaping you as you entered the bathroom and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your red dress was shorter than you remembered it being when you left, your hair just as perfectly disheveled as your thoughts. You steadied yourself before taking a seat, letting the music from downstairs provide you with a comfortable sense of privacy.

You had just washed your hands and were in the middle of throwing your hair into a bun when the door opened unexpectedly. Your ankle almost sprained from how quickly you’d whipped around, your heart stalling in your chest as Megumi looked back at you with the sound of the lock latching behind him.

“The hell are you doing, Fushiguro?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms folding over his chest as he rested his back against the door. “Since when do you date coworkers?”

You almost laughed you were so stunned, your posture straightening a bit as you continued to keep your attention focused on your reflection and not on him. “Since when do you care who I date?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “just don’t want to hear you complain about it later when things don’t work out.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a stupid smile at how annoyingly apathetic he had to be at all times. “And you felt it was necessary to follow me into a bathroom to let me know that?” You countered, finally turning to face him.

It was the first time all night that you’d seen his stoic demeanor start to waver.

His eyes narrowed as he raised his brow at you, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You’re drunk.” He quipped, taking a slow step towards you. “Just because your boyfriend’s careless enough to let you go running around by yourself doesn’t mean I am.”

Your throat was suddenly dry at how close he was to you, his tidal wave eyes flooding your senses as they dragged down to your lips.

“Your girlfriend’s downstairs.” You reminded him, desperately trying to ignore the heat that was gathering at your center.

“I know,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck as he held you in place. “But you’re right here.”

“Megumi…” Your voice nearly trembled, your insides catching fire at the feeling of his lips grazing yours. “We can’t…”

Your protest was hardly convincing though - not with the way your body was having its own private conversation with his. Practically begging to be touched as he wedged his knee between your thighs just to see how much temptation you could withstand.

He knew you wanted this. Knew that you thought about it just as much as he did, if not more. You’d always followed him around like a lost puppy. Always mirrored whatever he did like your intentions weren’t glaringly obvious. He’d been fighting to restrain himself for the last year and a half. Did everything he could to not succumb to the carnal urges that plagued him every time you showed up to his house in the shortest sundress he’d ever seen. He kept himself busy with other girls - lied to himself and pretended that it wasn’t you he was thinking about when he closed his eyes and thrusted into them. But you were everywhere, not just tonight and not just right now, but always. A constant thought in the back of his mind. A task he couldn’t ever mark as complete. A gnawing, agonizing, need that he couldn’t fight for one more fucking second.

“I’m so tired of it always being someone else,” he said against your lips, letting out a heady little exhale at how submissively you were staring back at him. “I want it to be you.”

The coiling tension in your lower abdomen felt like it was going to snap as the firmness of his knee pushed at just the right angle, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while his words swirled lazily through your mind.

He was right- you must’ve been drunk because there was no way he was prompting you to grind on him. No way that he was parting your lips with his tongue. No way that his grip was tangling into your hair as your hips began to rock rhythmically against him. No way that he was helping lift your bra over your head all while a mere staircase separated the two of you from your partners.

There was simply no way any of this was real.

His mouth was warm against your skin, kissing and nipping across your collarbone while his hand palmed at your chest. “S’fucking pretty,” he praised, his gaze pointed at the way your dress had nearly hiked all the way up your hips as you kept riding his leg.

“Show me what you do when you’re alone thinking about me,” he panted, “just like that, don't fucking stop.” His voice was sinful bliss trailing back up your neck, your dress now only covering your midsection as he pulled the straps of it down over your arms so that the top half met where the bottom half had ridden up.

You were dangerously - pathetically, close to cumming, not caring at all who heard you as your nails dug into his shoulder blade. Your needy little clit still pushing and pleading into his leg. “More,” you begged, “please - this isn’t - fair.”

“It’s not fair?” You hated the moan that slipped out at the sickeningly sweet way he mocked you. “Poor thing." His mouth was warm and torturous in the shell of your ear. "You know what I don't think is fair?"

The whimper you let out was all the answer he needed though.

His fingers wrapped delicately around your neck - an odd sense of security laced into them despite the way they were cutting off your oxygen. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to want you this bad.” His other hand suddenly roaming along the curve of your hip. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to pretend not to care when you do dumb shit like dangle new men in front of me.” His lips returned to yours, catching all the little whines that were escaping you. “And I really don’t think it’s fair how hard I’m about to fuck you while he’s downstairs waiting for you.”

It definitely wasn't the sentence that should've brought you to your breaking point, but it did. His grip tightened on you, fingertips digging perfectly into each side of your neck making your vision blur and your center ache. Your moans were every bit as broken as your thoughts, your eyes not leaving his while he nodded back at you.

"That's it." His grasp slowly began to release, loosening up with each whine you let out for him. "Cummin’ so easily for me.”

The room was still hazy, electricity dancing along your skin as he gently helped bring you to your feet before turning you around. You watched him from the reflection in the mirror, a dizzy smile cutting across your face while you watched him slip your dress all the way off and bend you over the counter.

"Fuck," he groaned, admiring the slick glistening off of you as he undid his belt. He ran two fingers between your folds, his mouth slightly dropping open at how sensitive you were to his touch - the cute little noises he could coax out of you by barely doing anything and the way your back arched so perfectly for him.

"Look at me," he breathed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he lined himself up with you.

His eyes trailed back up to yours, his tip carefully prodding at your entrance while he watched the desperate little expression that had taken over your features. "God damn," he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat at how faithfully your walls were swallowing him.

You were so wet, your brain and body both completely enamored with the sight and feeling of him sinking into you. The waiting game you'd been playing was well worth reward and you were enjoying every inch of your prize.

He was stretching you so tenderly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Though he'd told you to look at him, he seemed to be the one having a hard time maintaining your stare. His pretty blue eyes were glazed over, his composure starting to leave him the longer he looked at you.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "why do you feel so fucking good?"

His rhythm became harsher, both his hands grabbing onto your hips as he used you to his liking. “You know how many times I've thought about doing this, huh?" You weren't sure where your moans ended and his began, the rest of the world slipping away as he continued to blissfully bully his way into you. "Look at you, so pouty and pretty. Taking me like such a good girl."

His words made you clench, your cunt nearly suffocating him as he kept letting out more incoherent praises. He was just as lost as you were, just as dazed-out and unaware of his surroundings. The only thing keeping him grounding was the sound of you whimpering his name and how it kept getting needier and louder.

He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone in the entire house knew that he had you bent over with your tits pressed against the counter and your ass flushed firmly against him. Wanted them to know that it was his name you sang out when you came.

“Megumi -” you whined, “right there, ohmygod, right.. the - re.”

Your walls spasmed around him, little hearts and stars suddenly filling your vision as your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you begged, chasing the blinding white light of your release as far as it would go, “cum inside me, please - fuck, don’t stop.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Knew you weren’t on birth control. Knew you well enough to know how desperate you were to keep him around. He knew all the risks. Knew what a terrible fucking idea it was and yet,

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he grunted, his movements just as needy and out of control as yours. “For me to fill you up,” he was losing himself to the thought, “to go back downstairs with me dripping down your leg? Yeah, I bet you fucking would.”

It was the worst idea. Every reasonable part of him screaming at for him to stop.

“Y - es! Please, please - ah~!”

But the sound of you begging made that reasonable part of him disappear entirely, replaced by an absolutely unhinged part of him that he didn’t even know existed until that very moment.

He wanted your belly to swell, wanted everyone to look at you and know that it was him who had bred you and that it was him who would do it again and again. He was going to make the whole world know you were his and it made him fucking feral.

He groaned, chest heaving as he gave you one last punishing thrust, burying himself as deep as he could as he twitched inside you. His breath hitching in his throat, his mind only filled with you and your body only filled with him.

A beautifully damning warmth coated your walls while you shot him the prettiest, haziest smile he’d ever seen. Both of you slowly returning back to reality.

He carefully pulled out of you, watching the mess the two of you had made spill out of you as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

His hands were warm against the sides of your neck, thumb placed firmly under your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “Next time you decide to shove another guy in my face,” he said, “you better make sure they’re not dumb enough to leave you alone with me.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[jflemings]

— speak your mind

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: upon realising that kate’s feelings for you might not run as deep as yours do for her, you spiral. kate’s there to set the record straight.

warnings: a lil angsty, a lil bit of anxiety, overthinking, insecurity if you squint

a/n: this is long and not fully proofread!! i hope this is okay for my first kate fic 😬 lmk how you feel!!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎰 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

one of your favourite things to do was look at kate, admiring her had become somewhat of a hobby for you. you’re certain that you’ve memorised the placement of every faint freckle on the bridge of her nose; absolutely positive that you could pick out paint swatches that match her eyes perfectly. her side profile is committed to your memory, burned in your brain for the rest of time, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

for so long you had pined after her and hoped that one day you’d finally work up the nerve to actually talk to her instead of spending your time gawking at her.

your hopes were met when the two of you found yourselves sat on the porch of some frat house talking the night away. she’d left her friends for some fresh air only to find you, and before you knew it she was giving you her number and waving you off in an uber at the end of the night.

now, the two of you lounge around on her couch lazily, trying to find something to watch. she’s got one arm around you, keeping you tucked safely under her chin, whist the other fiddles with the remote.

“stupid fucking remote” she mumbles to herself “i change the batteries three times and still, it doesn’t want to work. might as well just get a new one”

you allow yourself the time to trace her features with your eyes like you have so many times before, letting your thoughts run wild whilst she’s distracted.

you knew how you felt about kate. you knew all too well.

you loved her, wholly and deeply. if someone asked you to list off reasons why you loved kate, you’d be sitting for an eternity. there was no one reason for your feelings, and there was no one thing that led you to them, it was just a fact.

the sky is blue. grass is green. you love kate.

simple.

you’d often wonder how she got to you, though. of course, you knew how she physically came to be yours but you often found yourself wondering how emotionally, she could belong to you.

there had been others before you. others that didn’t really need to wait for kate to come around.

she wasn’t known to date or be a player, but she definitely wore her heart on her sleeve a bit. any girl that she dated knew that kate was all in, and it made your stomach churn to know that maybe you weren’t one of those girls.

what if she waited so long to ask you to be her girlfriend because she didn’t know if she wanted that? what if you dove in too quick?

“see anything you wanna watch?” she says before turning to you “or were you just not paying attention to anything other than my face?”

you crack a faint smile and sit up, suddenly feeling sick. kate’s hand falls to your waist “you okay?”

the bitter taste of doubt dances on your tongue and trickles it’s way into your stomach “i’m honestly not feeling too good, i think i’m just gonna go” you say quickly as you stand.

kate’s quick to follow your movement, sitting up and tossing the remote to the side “are you sure? you can lay down here. i’ll get you some water”

“no, no” you say holding up your hand to her as she stands “i’m just gonna go. i’ll call you later”

the blonde doesn’t get another word in before you’re running out of her door with your shoes in your hand. she stands in the middle of her living room puzzled, looking at the back of her door.

it’s been a week since you’d practically jumped up and out of kate’s arms and ran out of her apartment, and she’s barely heard from you.

since you said you weren’t feeling well, she’d offered to go over and just hang out. you declined and said you didn’t want her to get sick and that you’d just catch up with her when you felt better.

then when she tried to call you and you didn’t answer, you told her you’d been sleeping, or studying, or taking a shower, or doing anything that didn’t require you to have your phone on your person.

kate never really thought of herself as controlling, but not knowing how you were was certainly making her feel out of control. she was worried. she had the thought to maybe message your roommate leah, but ultimately decided against it when she realised that that might be overdoing it, especially since you told technically did tell her what was wrong.

there was a feeling deep in her belly that she couldn’t shake though, and it was beginning to eat her alive.

the feeling was only amplified when she crossed paths with leah on campus and still didn’t get an answer. your roommate had nervously shrugged and said that you hadn’t spoken to her before rushing off.

jada squints at her friend from across the room as she takes another slow bite of her bagel. she watches as the blonde seemingly zones out completely, a blank look etched upon her face.

the same blank look that had been plaguing her for the past week.

“what’s up with you?” she calls.

kate snaps out of it with a shake of her head “what?” she asks

“i said” jada starts again, dusting her hands of crumbs “what’s up with you. you’ve been acting strange all week and it’s really unsettling”

kate purses her lips “it’s not unsettling”

“it is when you see it first hand”

the blond rubs a hand over her brow bone and sits up straight, rolling her head on her neck before putting her head in her hands “it’s y/n” she says “we have barely spoken all week”

“i thought you said she was sick?”

“that’s what she told me, but i know something’s wrong. i can feel it in my gut”

kate is quickly beginning to resemble a kicked puppy, the slouch of her shoulders and her sad eyes making her look smaller than she actually is.

jada frowns “what about her roommate leah? have you tried talking to her?”

“we ran into eachother but she wasn’t much help” kate says as she shakes her head.

the brunette takes her bagel and plate and stands, walking over to plop herself down next to her friend and teammate “maybe you should just go over there” she suggests softly

kate slumps back again “do y’think?”

jada shrugs “you obviously know her a lot better than i do but, yeah, i do”

kate ponders for a moment before jumping up from the couch and slipping on her shoes by the front door. she grabs her keys off the hook, makes sure she has her phone, and gives jada a half assed wave before she’s out the door.

she doesn’t even bother walking or taking her time, she runs. the route is burned into her brain. she’s on autopilot as she goes as fast as her legs will take her. she’s run this route plenty of times, more times than she’d ever like to admit.

as late rounds the corner to your building she comes to a stop to catch her breath, ignoring the odd onlooker that was curious as to what she was doing. she waves them off and kept going, never once faltering as she got to your door.

she knocks three times and bounces on her toes impatiently, almost barging in when the door cracks slightly.

leah pokes her head out curiously “kate?” she cocks a brow.

“is y/n here?” kate has to resist the urge to just look straight over her head and into your place “i just need to speak to her”

“no, she’s not” leah says whilst opening the door wider , her expression telling the basketball player that she knows more then she’s letting on “but you’re more than welcome to wait for her if you’d like”

you slam your front door open and kick it shut, flinching slightly at the loud bang “i’ve fucked it!” you practically yell through your apartment “once again, i am my own worst enemy” you begin to ramble to your roommate as you dump all of your stuff on the kitchen table.

leah freezes and her eyes go wide at the sound of your voice ringing through your shared place. you barely acknowledge the way she’s gone stone still like a deer in headlights, too caught up on the fact that you have basically ghosted your girlfriend.

“what if she hates me, what if she never wants to speak to me again because of this week? oh my god” you groan loudly, the anxiety continuing to bubble inside of you “i feel fucking horrible, lee, she doesn’t deserve someone who’s gonna shut her out like this. i wouldn’t even know how to start making it up to her”

you begin to messily organise your things. you dump the water out of your waterbottle and rinse it and put your laptop on charge, your train of thought never faltering “an apology would be a good start, y/n” you mumble to yourself as if you’re stupid “hey kate! sorry for avoiding you for a week, that was super shitty of me, but i’m ready to talk about my feelings now!”

“y/n” leah hisses

you swiftly look at her and frown. her brows are pinched together and her teeth are clenched in an almost comical way, making you cock your brow “what’s that face for?” you ask.

her eyes shift from the direction of your bedroom and back to you once, twice, three times, before she raises her brows. you shake your head slightly to show her you don’t understand until dread washes over you like a tidal wave. a deep pit forms in the bottom of your stomach.

you screw your eyes shut momentarily before walking down the hall to your bedroom, puffing your cheeks up and releasing a breath as your hand grips the handle.

from behind you, leah gets up from the couch “i’m going out for a little while” she says just loud enough so that both you and the person occupying your room can hear. you turn and face her briefly, catching the sympathetic look on her face.

you turn the doorknob and push yourself into the entryway of your bedroom, coming face to face with kate.

she’s sat on your bed with her hands tucked neatly in her lap and her head hung. her shoulders are hunched slightly as she lifts her head to look at you, offering the smallest of smiles “hey” she says quietly “leah let me in, told me i could wait for you”

“oh” you say dumbly, not moving from the spot you stand in.

kate nods her head once “have— have i done something to upset you?” she asks quietly

you shake your head “no” you shut your door behind you “you haven’t done anything, kate, i swear”

“is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me?” she raises her head fully to look at you now but her hands still stay neatly tucked in her lap. she doesn’t look like she’s been crying, but the frown on her face and her glassy eyes tell you that she’s very close to it. you feel your heart crack, you’d never seen her like this.

you sigh and cross the room to her, placing your hands delicately on her shoulders “it was me” you start “i— i was getting in my head and i didn’t know how else to deal with it. i’m so sorry kate. it wasn’t fair of me to do that, especially since i’ve made you feel like you were the one at fault”

the athlete’s hands uncross themselves and come to hold your hips. she looks up at you with wide eyes like she’s trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head “i don’t understand” she says “we tell eachother everything”

“i know” you mumble, flexing your hands against her broad shoulders “i’m sorry”

kate looks down at your feet before spreading her legs slightly and pulling you towards her by your hips. you step further into her space just as she looks back up at you “you can talk to me about anything, you know that right? i’m always here for you”

you nod “i know that” you say quietly. kate squeezes you hip.

“you didn’t fuck anything up” she assures you, referring to your words as you walked through your front door. “more than anything, i was worried. i didn’t know what was going on and you weren’t answering me”

“i’m sorry for worrying you” your hands shift so that they settle in the curve between her neck and shoulder “but i still shouldn’t have just shut you out like that. it wasn’t fair”

her hands slither around your hips and hold your lower back. she tilts her head “do you wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

you take your hands back and chew slightly on your bottom lip before taking a sudden interest in your ceiling. behind your eyes feels heavy as you try to push down the lump that has lodged itself in your throat.

the hands that are around you suddenly feel too cagey, too suffocating, and you take a step back from your girlfriend. a twisted look of confusion and concern crosses the blonde’s features as she furrows her brows and allows her hands to fall back to her lap.

“i love you” you say before taking a deep breath “and i avoided you because i didn’t think i could face you knowing that you might not feel the same” you screw your eyes shut just as the tears slip out.

kate’s face relaxes into something softer, and she slowly holds her hand out for you to take “babe” she says softly “c’mere”

you hesitate for a moment before taking her hand. she pulls you back in to her space and swipes a thumb under your eye “you got yourself all worked up because you didn’t think i’d say it back?”

“i—” you begin, only to then realise that she, in fact, hadn’t said it back. you shut your mouth and play with the hem of your shirt, quickly wiping away tears with the collar.

kate’s hand moves to cradle your face “i do love you” she says softly, ducking her head slightly so she can make eye contact with you “and i have for a while”

your lip begins to wobble and you cover your face with your hands in an effort to hide from her. she isn’t having it though, and hooks a thumb in the belt loop of your jeans so that she can drag you into her.

one arm loops securely around you whilst she uses her other hand to try to pry your own off you face “babe” she says.

she smiles as you reveal your face to her and she takes one of your hands in hers “why did you think that i wouldn’t feel the same? i tried to show it, but maybe it didn’t communicate well”

you chew your lip nervously out of habit “i just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same since it took you so long to ask me to be your girlfriend” you mumble “like, maybe you weren’t sure of me or something”

kate frowns “i waited so long because i didn’t want to mess it up” she says as she squeezes your hand “i knew i liked you from our first conversation, and i didn’t want to scare you off or make you think that i was moving too fast. i’m sorry, baby”

you furrow your brows “it wasn’t your fault” you say as you shake your head “it was just me and my way of thinking”

“we’ll next time that happens i want you to speak your mind, okay?” kate stands and drags her hands delicately up your sides before she cups your face “but there’s nothing you need to worry about. my feelings for you don’t come close to anything else i’ve ever felt before”

“yeah?” you ask quietlyleaning into her touch.

“yeah” kate flashes you one of her big, toothy smiles and connects your lips. her thumbs caress the sides of your face lightly, making your skin tingle. “i love you” she mumbles against your lips.

you can’t help but smile “i love you too”

[ssa-dado]

2 - Early Birds

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint

Summary: Two weeks in, the excitement of your first case had faded, and you found yourself handling simpler cases while learning from senior team members. You aimed to prove yourself, arriving early each day, only to find Hotch always there before you. This sparked a playful rivalry and connection between you two. Hotch recognized your determination to earn your place, and your insights on a cold case led to a field mission together. Through this growing mutual respect, your dynamic evolved into a partnership with unspoken mentorship.

Warnings: Usual CM case stuff described in detail, Hotch being a jokester, Rossi being iconic as always, no Gideon though.

Word Count: 4.4k words

Dado's Corner: Trying my best not to write reader looking at "Hotch's muscles reaping through his tight shirt", and limit the emotional description that both of them feel because stupid me wanted to write a slow burn. They are so cute though, c'mon. Also I wanted to point out that both of them basically know nothing about each other outside of work (their family, their past, if they're dating someone...👀). And yes, that is very deliberate, hihi.

part one ; part three

Two weeks had passed, and the initial rush of excitement that had accompanied your first case with the team was starting to settle. You weren’t paired up with Hotch, Rossi, or Gideon for any of your most recent cases anymore - not that you expected to be.

The more straightforward cases were often left to the younger or less experienced agents, which included you, as frustrating as it sometimes felt. Still, you were learning, absorbing everything you could from your new other colleagues, even though part of you itched to be working on the more complex cases that the senior team members handled, mostly because they were the ones who were allowed to travel all across the country.

You wandered how they expected you to go back to work after the big rush you felt after that first case, although it was probably intentional – an unspoken invite - if you continued to keep up with your works, maybe you would be allowed to join the big boys club again. The placement of your desk, didn’t help you at all to keep those thoughts out of your head, as it was situated right in front of Hotch’s, and constantly gave you an unobstructed view of his work.

It was yet another reminder of what you 'could have been doing' disguised as a neatly arranged workspace with case files that seemed far more complicated and intriguing than the ones you were currently dealing with. Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of him leaning over one of his meticulous reports or reviewing photos, his focus so intense it was hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy.

But you immediately learnt Hotch was nothing if not organized, and despite your best efforts to sneak a peek at the cases he was working on, he always kept his desk so perfectly neat that you could never quite make out any of the details… which only made you even more curious.

So you started coming to the office earlier each day, driven by a fierce determination to prove yourself and earn a spot on the senior team. You knew your skills were valuable, but without more field experience, you needed to find other ways to stand out. Arriving early became your way of showing commitment, a quiet but persistent demonstration that you were ready whenever the team needed you.

However, your plans to impress were unknowingly thwarted by one person: Hotch himself.

No matter how early you arrived, he was always there before you, settled at his desk with a steaming cup of the bitter government-office coffee in hand, already absorbed in his work.

His calm presence, bathed in the soft glow of the early morning light, became a familiar sight. It almost felt like he was deliberately keeping the upper hand, showing you that no matter how early you came in, he would always beat you to it. This routine repeated so frequently that it turned into a sort of unspoken ritual: arriving to find Hotch already deep in thought, sharing those first moments of the day completely in silence. Sometimes, you'd exchange a nod, and if you were feeling particularly bold, a brief smile of acknowledgment to him. Those quiet mornings became the closest thing you would ever have to connecting with someone from the senior team.

One particular morning, you arrived earlier than ever, determined that this would finally be the day you beat Hotch to the office. You slipped into your chair, a triumphant smile spreading across your face at the sight of his empty desk. For once, you were ready to enjoy the small victory of being there first. But before you could even settle into your morning routine, Hotch strolled in with an infuriatingly composed air, as if this were all part of some game only he knew the rules to.

"Early again, I see," Hotch said, setting his bag down with a casualness that suggested he wasn’t bothered in the slightest by your efforts.

You smirked, trying to hide the disappointment of losing yet again, and fired back, "What can I say? I like to get a head start on the day."

Hotch gave a small nod as he took his seat, already opening a case file. "I noticed," he replied in his dry, signature tone. "Maybe next time you’ll actually beat me to the office."

Your eyes widened slightly; it was embarrassing how easily he had read your unspoken intentions, as if your competitive spirit was as obvious as the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Still, you couldn’t let him have the last word. Leaning back in your chair, you matched his teasing tone. "Is that a challenge?"

Hotch didn’t look up from his file, but you caught the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth, as though he was fighting back a smile. "If it were a challenge, you'd know it."

The next day, determined to prove a point, you arrived even earlier, practically at the crack of dawn. You felt a surge of pride when you saw Hotch’s empty desk. You sat down, arranging your papers with a satisfied grin when you heard the door creak open. Hotch strolled in, holding his coffee and glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you sleep here?" Hotch asked, his voice edged with amusement as he took in your determined expression.

"Thought I’d enjoy the office without the competition," you quipped, not missing a beat. "But I guess I was wrong."

Hotch set his coffee down, glancing at his watch pointedly. "Maybe try five minutes earlier tomorrow."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. If it weren’t for the pile of files on top of your desk you would probably search down the office looking for the secret bunker he had to use to hide in. "Maybe I will."

As the days passed, this playful rivalry grew, turning your early arrivals into a daily test of wills. You found yourself not just trying to beat Hotch to the office but eagerly anticipating your quiet battle of wits, moments where the two of you just coexisted in a space of mutual respect and silent competition. You found yourself noticing the little things, like the way he meticulously organized his desk, his unspoken but obvious disdain for the office coffee, and the way his focus never wavered, even when he knew you were watching. And though Hotch rarely let anything slip, you could tell he was enjoying it too.

One morning, you brought in coffee from a nearby café, one of the good ones, and set it on your desk with a pointed look at Hotch’s usual cup of the bitter office brew.

"Upgrading already?" Hotch asked, eyeing the cup with faint interest.

"Figured if I’m going to keep coming in early, I might as well treat myself," you said, lifting the cup slightly in a mock toast.

Hotch nodded thoughtfully. "Smart. Too bad I didn’t think of it first."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone playful. "I’ll grab you one next time. Wouldn’t want you to lose your edge."

Hotch smirked, his expression a rare mix of humor and challenge. "I’ll hold you to that."

Rossi, who often strolled in a bit later with his own cup of coffee, couldn’t help but notice the budding rivalry. One morning, as you and Hotch exchanged your usual nods, Rossi ambled by with a bemused smile tugging at his lips.

"I’ve gotta say," Rossi began, glancing between you and Hotch, "this little routine of yours is the most entertaining part of my mornings. Hotch, are you ever going to let her win?"

Hotch glanced up, his face the picture of neutrality, but his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "I’m just here to work, Dave," he replied smoothly, as if your ongoing game wasn’t the highlight of his mornings too.

"Sure you are," Rossi said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He turned to you with a knowing wink. "Keep at it, Y/N. Sooner or later, you might get him to crack."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "I’m working on it."

Rossi leaned closer to you with a knowing grin. “I’ve seen people try to get through to him for years. Don’t lose hope. You might be the one to break the streak.”

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," you said with a chuckle, but his words resonated more than you let on.

The rivalry wasn’t just about who got to the office first anymore; it was about pushing each other in subtle ways. Hotch would occasionally leave a file slightly more open than usual, tempting you to sneak a glance. Sometimes, you’d leave your notes on display, knowing he’d catch something you were working on. These little tests became part of your dynamic, an unspoken way of challenging each other to be sharper, to think more critically.

One morning, you arrived to find a sticky note on your desk, written in Hotch’s neat handwriting: “Nice try. Better luck tomorrow.”

You laughed, shaking your head and scribbling a quick reply, sticking it to his coffee mug: “Don’t get too comfortable.”

As the day progressed, you found yourself lost in your work, occasionally sneaking glances at Hotch as he meticulously reviewed a series of photographs from his latest case. It was during one of these moments, late in the morning when the bullpen was nearly empty, as most of the other agents had just left for their lunch break, that you caught sight of a specific photograph that Hotch had been studying. It was upside down from your perspective, but something about the positioning of the victim caught your eye. You glanced at Hotch, who was fully absorbed in his work, before you shifted your gaze back to the image.

You couldn’t help yourself. "Hotch?" you called out tentatively, trying to sound casual.

He didn’t look up from the file, his voice as calm and collected as always. "Yes?"

"That case you’re working on... the one with the body positioned against the wall?" You gestured subtly toward the photo.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a hint of curiosity in them now. "What about it?" Thankfully he was so desperate he didn’t even call out on you snooping on his files.

You leaned forward a little, glancing between him and the photo. "Well... I couldn’t help but notice something about the victim’s posture. It looks deliberate, almost ritualistic, but there’s a subtle tension in the arms. It feels like... he wasn’t posed post-mortem. What if he was still alive when the unsub placed him in that position?"

Hotch’s brows furrowed slightly as he considered your words. He leaned back in his chair and studied the photograph again, his focus intensifying. After a moment, he glanced back at you. "Go on."

Feeling a little more confident now, you continued. "If the unsub posed him while he was still alive, it means he’s not just seeking control after death, he’s enjoying the power he holds over his victims while they’re still conscious. That could point to a different kind of psychological profile. It’s not just about domination or display; it’s about interaction. He needs to see their fear."

Hotch’s lips pressed into a thin line as he processed your theory, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head, coming unstuck for the first time. Then, to your surprise, he gave a slow nod. "You might be onto something."

You blinked, not expecting such an immediate acknowledgment. "Really?"

He leaned forward, quickly scribbling a note in the margin of his case file. "It changes how we look at his escalation pattern. If he’s interacting with them before death, it suggests a different type of compulsion." His gaze flicked back to you, and there was a hint of admiration in his eyes, though it was still masked by his usual stoic demeanor. "Good catch."

You felt a small surge of pride at his words, then you caught Rossi, who had been hovering nearby with his coffee, heard the exchange and couldn’t help but smirk. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, Hotch."

Hotch glanced at Rossi, his expression barely changing. "I’m always up for a challenge."

Rossi chuckled, clearly amused by the dynamic between you two. "This ought to be fun to watch."

Later that day, while you were both in the kitchenette grabbing some burnt bitter coffee, Hotch broke the silence. "You know, Rossi’s not wrong. I’ve worked with a lot of people, and not many would speak up the way you do."

You looked up, surprised by his sudden candor. "I guess I’m just stubborn."

"That’s not always a bad thing," Hotch said, his voice softer than usual. "It’s how you learn."

You shared a quiet smile before the moment passed, and you both returned to your desks. But it lingered, this newfound sense of mutual respect.

As the day drew to a close, you were working through your own case files, reviewing behavioral patterns for a consultation you’d been asked to give. It wasn’t as high-stakes as Hotch’s case, but it still somehow puzzled you. You were working through the details when you heard Hotch’s chair scrape against the floor as he stood up.

"You’ve been staring at that file for hours," he observed, walking around his desk to stand beside yours. "Something bothering you about it?"

You glanced up, caught slightly off-guard by his sudden attention. "It’s just... I’m having trouble piecing together the unsub’s motivations. The crime scenes are chaotic, impulsive. But then there are these little moments of control. It’s not adding up." You blurt out

Hotch studied the pages you had spread across your desk, his eyes scanning over the crime scene photos and notes. After a moment, he pointed at one of the reports. "The pattern of escalation doesn’t match with someone who lacks control. Look here." He tapped the page. "The victims all lived within a few miles of each other, but the attacks are spaced out by months. He’s controlling his impulses, waiting for the right moment."

You leaned forward, following his train of thought. "So he’s picking his moments carefully, but when he acts, it’s chaotic."

"Exactly," Hotch confirmed. "The chaos is part of his release. But the periods of waiting, of planning - that’s where his real control lies. He’s not impulsive, he’s deliberate. You’re dealing with someone who needs the build-up almost as much as the act itself."

A lightbulb went off in your head. "Which means the chaos at the crime scenes isn’t a lack of control: it’s the goal. It’s what he’s been working up to."

Hotch nodded, clearly satisfied with where the conversation had led, finally making you become unstuck. "Now you’re thinking like a profiler."

You smiled at his words, "Thanks for the help. I guess I owe you one”

Hotch’s expression remained neutral, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "I’ll remember that."

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable silence, both of you working on your respective cases. But every now and then, your eyes would meet across the desks, and you couldn’t help but feel that there was now starting to be an unspoken understanding between you now, built by your small moments of banter.

Suddenly, as the clock neared midnight, Hotch spoke up again. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day."

You chuckled softly, packing up your files. "You always say that, but you never seem to take your own advice."

He gave you a rare, brief smile. "Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that what this is? You’re secretly just keeping tabs on me?”

"Something like that," Hotch replied, his tone dry but not unkind. "Besides, you’ve been sneaking glances at my case files all day."

You bit back a laugh. "Caught red-handed."

Hotch crossed his arms, though there was no real accusation in his voice. "Next time, just ask. I might let you take a look."

You smirked. "I’ll hold you to that."

As you both gathered your things and headed for the door, you glanced at him one last time. "See you tomorrow, early bird."

Hotch gave you a knowing look. "We’ll see who gets here first."

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, Hotch was already there, of course. But this time, as you approached your desk, you noticed something new. A fresh file, placed neatly on top of your papers, with a small note attached.

"For your curiosity. - Hotch"

You couldn’t help but grin as you opened the file and began to read.

You opened the file carefully, half-expecting it to be another mundane consultation, but no. The more you read, the more it drew you in: it was a cold case, one with a string of victims found in seemingly random locations but with similar grim injuries. Each one had been reported missing for weeks before their bodies were found posed in open fields. There was something about the methodical yet personal nature of the kills that stood out.

The file indicated that the team hadn’t cracked this one yet, and the investigation had stalled. Hotch was likely trying to see if you could spot something they hadn’t. You glanced across the bullpen at him, just coming back from the kitchenette holding a cup of coffee. His face was unreadable, but you could sense that this was a test, not in a malicious way, but in his own way of pushing you to think bigger, to trust your instincts.

You spent the rest of the morning poring over the details, making notes, and jotting down ideas. Something wasn’t clicking, there was no clear pattern in the victim’s personal lives. They weren’t all the same age, gender, or background. But then something Hotch had said to you while yesterday helping you on your consultation echoed in your mind.

"The chaos is part of his release. The periods of waiting, of planning, that’s where his real control lies."

You took another long look at the victims, and then it clicked. They weren’t random. The locations, the way the bodies were posed, they weren’t haphazard at all. It was a pattern, but not one based on the victims themselves. It was based on where they were found.

Without realizing it, you stood up from your chair and made your way over to Hotch’s desk. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

"Got something?" he asked, setting his pen down.

You handed him the file, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. "It’s not about the victims. It’s about the locations. They’re all near bodies of water—rivers, lakes, even a man-made pond. I think the unsub’s been using these locations as part of his ritual."

Hotch’s eyes narrowed as he flipped through the file, his expression becoming more focused. "Bodies of water... it’s symbolic. Cleansing, rebirth."

"Exactly," you said, feeling the pieces fall into place. "He’s not just dumping the bodies. He’s placing them there, almost like he’s trying to wash away something. Maybe guilt, maybe some twisted idea of purification."

Hotch leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That changes things. If he’s choosing these locations deliberately, we can use that to predict where he might strike next."

You nodded, excitement building. "There are three other bodies of water in the same radius where the previous victims were found. If we stake those out, we might catch him before he strikes again."

Hotch studied you for a moment, and for a brief second, you felt a flicker of self-doubt. Had you jumped the gun? But then, his lips curved ever so slightly into a small, approving smile.

"Good work," he said simply, and that was all you needed to hear.

Little did you know that the next day, you surprisingly found yourself riding in the SUV with Hotch, heading toward one of the potential strike zones you’d identified. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the two of you drove in comfortable silence.

"I didn’t expect to be heading into the field this soon," you admitted after a while, breaking the silence. "Especially not with you."

Hotch glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his expression as calm as ever. "Let’s say your early mornings finally paid off. Besides, you saw something we didn’t, that’s exactly why you’re here."

The compliment caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure how to respond. Instead, you focused on the task at hand. "I just hope we’re right about the unsub coming back here."

"We are," Hotch said with a certainty that made you feel more confident. "He’ll be back. It’s part of his pattern now."

You spent the next few hours staking out the area, watching as the quiet evening slowly turned into night. The stillness of the surroundings, combined with the anticipation of the chase, made every small sound feel 10 times louder than it actually was. You and Hotch barely spoke, but the tension in the air wasn’t uncomfortable, it was rather a focused kind of tension, the kind that comes with knowing you’re close to a breakthrough.

Hotch glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a bit. “You know,” he started all of a sudden, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I’ve been meaning to ask, did all those philosophy books you read in college inspire you to show up so early every morning? Is that where your existential rivalry with me started?”

Of course he had to poke fun at you again for your philosophy degree just when all the rest of your coworkers recently found out it wasn’t your only personality trait. “Philosophy books? Really? That’s where you’re going with this?”

“I mean, you’ve got that whole ‘deep thinker, rise-before-the-sun’ vibe going." He said with a deeper than usual mocking tone trying to simulate a hippie "I just assumed you were contemplating the meaning of life every morning before anyone else got to the office.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, that’s it. All those Nietzsche and Sartre quotes really got me fired up to beat you to the office every day. And here I thought you just couldn’t get enough of the terrible coffee.”

Hotch chuckled, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to scan the darkening landscape. “That’s part of it. But I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to keep at it for this long. Most people would’ve given up.”

You shrugged, playing it cool. “Maybe I just like a challenge. And it’s not every day you get to try and beat the infamous Aaron Hotchner at something.”

Hotch almost sounded surprised as soon as his full name escaped your lips but then his tone shifted slightly, more serious now, though still laced with that dry humor. “I know why you started showing up early.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change in tone. “Oh? Enlighten me, then.”

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed ahead, but his voice softened. “You wanted to prove yourself - to show that you were ready for more, especially to us senior profilers. You’ve got that drive, that need to show that you belong, and you wanted to earn your place, not just be handed it.” He glanced at you then, his expression more open than usual. “And I noticed it from the first time you walked in early, thinking you’d catch me off guard.”

You felt a mix of surprise and embarrassment; you hadn’t expected him to see through you so easily. “I… well, yeah. I guess I didn’t hide it as well as I thought.”

Hotch’s smile was small but genuine. “You didn’t have to hide it. You’ve got the skill; you just needed the chance to show it. And you’ve been doing that every day since.”

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of validation and warmth from his words. “Thanks, Hotch. I guess I just… didn’t want to be the newbie forever.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “You’re not. And you’ve more than earned your place here, I wouldn’t have escorted you here to sit in my car for 4 hours straight otherwise.” He paused, his eyes returning to the scene outside. “But don’t think I’m going to let you win the next morning race.”

You grinned, the familiar competitive spark reigniting. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It wasn’t until the early hours of the evening, just when you were beginning to wonder if you’d missed something, that Hotch’s hand suddenly shot up, motioning for you to stay still. You followed his gaze, and there - just barely visible through the trees - was a figure moving toward the water’s edge, dragging something behind them.

The adrenaline surged through you as you and Hotch exchanged a quick glance, silently confirming what you both knew. This was it.

Moving as quietly as possible, the two of you approached, your hearts pounding in sync as you drew closer to the unsub. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too focused on his ritual as he began positioning the body at the water’s edge.

"FBI!" Hotch’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding.

The unsub froze, and for a split second, you thought he might run. But instead, he dropped to his knees, hands raised, as if surrendering to the inevitable.

You and Hotch moved in quickly, securing him before he had a chance to change his mind. As you handcuffed the unsub, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of triumph and exhaustion.

Back at the office, the energy was different. You felt you weren’t just the youngest on the team anymore. You’d proven yourself, and even though Hotch didn’t say much, you could feel the shift in how he treated you. There was more trust, more recognition of your abilities.

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, Hotch was already there, of course. But this time, as you approached your desk, you noticed another file waiting for you, along with a familiar note.

"For your next challenge. - Hotch"

You couldn’t help but grin as you picked up the file, feeling the anticipation build once more. The friendly rivalry between you was still there, but now it felt like something more - a mentorship? Partnership? Definitely there was a shared respect.

As you glanced over at Hotch, already deep in thought at his desk, you felt a sense of belonging settle over you. Even if you weren’t part of the dreaded senior team just yet as you were still earning your place every day. Although you felt that with Hotch’s guidance, you knew you’d only get better.

"Let’s see what you’ve got for me this time," you muttered to yourself with a smile, flipping open the new file and diving back into the world of profiling.

And maybe, just maybe, Hotch was enjoying this as much as you were.

[muddyorbsblr]

the warmest bed i've ever known

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few days after 'when the feeling sinks in'

Summary: Tom has convinced you to go back to London with him for a few weeks, and a photo of you two out and about together has opinions firing left and right.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings (spoilers ahead): language; big hater behavior towards Reader; attempted breakup; angst; brief mentions of past bullying [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Tomathy fully in his comforting precious bf era

Numb.

That was the only word that came to mind right now to describe what you felt, staring at your screen with all the hateful vile words that people who didn't even know you were flinging your way. And all because of the man you were dating. And how much you looked like a downgrade compared to his ex.

Then again it really shouldn't have surprised you, considering the turn your life had taken in the last few months. Hell, the last few days. There was really no other way for these nameless faceless spineless people to react when the man you'd started dating was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

And the figuratively ridiculously large shoes you had to fill considering the rising power of said ex…was Taylor Swift's.

You shouldn't have gone online. Checked Twitter. Checked anything, really. They rarely if ever had anything good to say, it was a special kind of stupid and naive for you to think that someway somehow you and your relationship were going to be the exception to the vitriolic rule.

Now here you were, screechy voices filling your mind, spitting out the words that your eyes scanned when you opened the cesspool of a sight.

Nothing special

Unremarkable

Fucking stab my eyes out with a rusty fork ugly

To be completely fair, you'd seen worse when you were still in school, every day inundated with the mocking words that sociopaths with hormones on overdrive wielded recklessly like a goddamn balisong without care that the person on the receiving end was actually a person. And if that was the shitshow you experienced from people brave enough to sign those sentiments with their name and say it to your face with chests fully puffed out, then the bravery of these people when they were all snuggled up under the protective cover of anonymity really shouldn't have shocked you.

Finding out who they were behind the screen and dealing out retribution on your own terms would have been a simple enough task. After all, you'd done it before, and even with the current advancements in technology and the tighter security protocols centered around protecting user data, you still managed to keep a few tricks in your bag that you could whip out if the need ever arose.

There was just one thing that stopped you from doing just that. A part of you agreed with the vicious comments. It was easy enough to ignore when people in school were just making hateful pages about how you sucked and how no one would ever genuinely like you. Or when they made pages pretending to be you so that they could dole out their paltry attempts at trying to ruin what little reputation you had at the time.

When you dealt with them on that comparatively smaller scale, it became easy to numb yourself to their words, drown them out until they were just white noise in the background, keeping you focused on the path you laid out for yourself rather than distracting you. It gave you a drive to work harder and better so that you could get as far away from them as possible.

On this scale, the background noise was so strong, so loud and overwhelming that every step you took to fight it seemed to take every ounce of your strength. It felt like there was no way out. You couldn't just hunker down and work hard so that you could get away from it all this time. And you couldn't exactly ignore them, either.

How could you? When they were voicing with pinpoint accuracy every insecurity that plagued you ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago. Ever since your first night with him months ago.

So is this some sort of Make-A-Wish thing? That's it, right? She's on her last few months and she wanted to live them in delusion?

Fifty bucks says Tom's active on Raya right now. Quick someone send me an invite link I wanna shoot my shot. Tommy don't worry baby I'll save you from whatever the fuck mistake you got yourself into.

How the fuck do you go from Taylor Swift to that?

The most prevalent remarks in the last few hours had to do with a sighting of you sitting on a park bench, working on creating a wardrobe piece for an upcoming show that, if all went well, would start filming in a few years. The book author and the prospective showrunner got in contact with you after a glowing recommendation from Taika, and they talked about struggling to find the perfect scarf that would serve as one of the series' focal points.

After a few discussions and so many skeins of yarn that there was now an oversized tote bag in your hotel room overflowing with various shades of dark teal and peacock blue, you started crocheting a sample size of the pattern to show the author later on in the afternoon before you went to meet Tom for dinner. And that was how you were spotted this morning, sitting quietly on the bench, eyes on your project while your boyfriend was taking Bobby for a walk.

And for some reason the internet was up in arms over that,

Are you really fucking telling me this boring ass bitch that's giving old lady crocheting a goddamn scarf is fucking riding the God of Mischief every day? Nuh uh nope I don't believe that. Our Tommy deserves someone fun, and actually fucking pays attention to him and not a ball of yarn. Our baby deserves so much better than this.

You stared at the desk in front of you, your sample scarf to the left, and your laptop at the center, the screen now black from inactivity. You couldn't bother to move to check the time; your reminder would ring when your call would start. All you could bring yourself to do was remain exactly as you were, knees drawn to your chest with your arms around your legs, shaking and doing your damnedest not to break out into sobs over the knowledge of what you were about to do as soon as the door opened.

It was a good run, you told yourself. More than I deserved.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you back to reality, the voices finally dying down somewhat. Unfortunately, hearing Tom's voice started the voices right back up again.

"Y/N, darling, have you finished with your call? I was hoping we could go out tonight for dinner and--" His words stopped abruptly once he got to his study, seeing you in the position you'd been in for the last few hours, and immediately rushed to your side, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What's wrong, goddess?"

"I uhh…I have to go back to Los Angeles. I'm gonna see if I can make the next flight back." You didn't dare meet his eyes, still trying to hold back any tears.

He let out a breath, sounding almost relieved before he pressed a kiss to your hands. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, I can pack a bag and we can be on the next flight out--"

"No," you cut him off, wincing at your tone. "I'm going alone. There's no need for you to go with me, I'm sure you have some other things to do here. Better things."

There was a slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, gently turning your head to look at him. He took a shuddering breath seeing the tears swimming in your eyes. "What's happening right now, sweetheart? Please. I don't understand what could have brought this on, we had a lovely morning--"

"I thought I could do this," you choked out, finding it difficult to form coherent words without starting to blubber. "I thought I could drown the voices out, not let them get to me but…they're too loud. They're ruthless and vile and they have megaphones and they're right." You shook your head to turn away from him, burying your face between your knees, the all too familiar feeling of shame flooding your system, shrouding over you like an overly weighted blanket. "I'm not strong enough to do this with you. And you deserve someone better than me."

You took your laptop off of Standby, your screen illuminating and showing him the harsh words that had been haunting you since you stupidly decided to check the internet just minutes after he left the house. He began to visibly tense as his eyes scanned the pages seeing all the hateful things literal strangers had to say about your relationship.

"Look we gave it a shot," you tried to tell him, making a motion to get out of the chair which made him put his hands on the armrests, effectively keeping you in place. "But I think it's time to call it. I'm not good for you, and you deserve someone--"

"No." His tone was low and resolute, hands staying firmly on the chair, refusing to let you go anywhere. From a certain perspective, it was a smart enough move, considering that if he let you go right now, you'd probably sprint out the door in the name of doing what you thought would be best for him. Even if it meant ripping your own heart out in the process. "This can't be over already, we've only just begun. The time I've had with you has been extraordinary and I know that if we keep going, it'll get even better. You've made me so happy and--"

"You'll find someone that makes you happier," you dumbly shot back, the sentiment hitting you so hard that the tears finally began to fall. Even the thought of him potentially moving on so quickly after this already had you ready to sob. "Someone stronger. Someone that can handle all of this or hell someone they'll actually like--"

"Those people don't care for my happiness," he said in a rush, tears filling his eyes as well. "No matter what I do, there's always going to be someone hateful that has something to say, and they'll always think they're right. It's so clear that they don't give a damn about what actually makes me happy because if they did, they wouldn't be saying these disgusting lies about you, trying to get into your head."

There was a desperation in his tone that tore at your heart; no part of you wanted to do this. But seeing every single insecurity that you'd had ever since you said yes to being his girlfriend, yes to going to London with him for a few weeks, and generally just yes to spending the next few however months of your life with him, all laid out in print echoed by so many others? You knew he deserved better than this, better than someone that would ultimately have to be hidden away so that these people would stop coming for his throat for his 'poor choices'.

And when you knew that what would be best for the man you ached to give your heart to was to actually tuck your heart away and run, how selfish would it be for you to do the opposite?

The feel of his hands framing your face brought you back to your thoughts, the frantic pleading look on his face robbing you of your breath. "Do you want to leave, Y/N?" You wanted to scream No of course I don't, I want to stay with you. But you found yourself unable to form words. All you could do was shake your head as more tears fell from your eyes.

He pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his arms the second you crossed your hands behind his neck and lifting you out of your seat. He didn't break the kiss until he'd carried you to his bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. Then he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before sinking to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Then don't leave. Stay with me. We'll stay in and stay away from prying eyes so nobody gets to say anything about you, we'll--"

"You shouldn't have to make adjustments in your life for the sake of making me comfortable," you argued. "You should be with someone that can face all of this, not cower in a corner licking her wounds needing to be protected if she so much as gets seen stepping out of your house like some tiny helpless baby animal. You deserve to be with someone you can share everything with, without the worry of people shooting you down just because I'm not pretty enough or tall enough for them. You can have anything and everything you want with a snap of your fingers, I'm sure it won't be that hard to find someone that--"

Tom stopped you from letting out another word, holding you by the back of your  head and pulling you to him for a desperate kiss. "I don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't give a fuck what anyone else wants to think about how I choose to spend my life and who I choose to share it with, because I know better. You're enough, you're more than enough. And if a few precautions and adjustments have to be made to make sure they can't get to you, then I'm more than happy to do all that and more.

"Our first night together I told you I just want you. As you are. That I want to make you happy." He rose from his knees, pressing a kiss to your cheek and working his way to your ear. "That I want to satisfy you. Do you remember?" You could only nod, trying and failing not to melt against him as he kissed below your ear. "I'm going to add that list of wants now. I want to make sure you feel safe, with every means I have at my disposal."

He guided you down until your back was flat on the mattress, kissing down your neck as he did so, his lips trailing a path down to just over your heart. You found it near impossible to breathe, finding yourself overwhelmed with how gentle and tender he was handling you.

"I want to love you," he said, meeting your eyes with a look that you could only describe as surrender. "I know you're not ready to hear it yet, but this can't wait anymore. You need to hear it. You need to know that the only way for me to actually have everything that I want is if I get to share everything I have with you. I need you to know that your leaving would rip my heart out." He made his way back up, stopping when your faces were mere inches apart. "I need you to know who you'd be leaving." He brushed his lips across yours in a featherlight kiss. "You would be leaving a man so completely, so desperately in love with you."

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was inaudibly mouthing his name, the sentiment you tried to stomp down just a little over a week ago fighting its way back up to the surface. Practically shouting from the back of your throat.

"I love you," he breathed out. "Please, sweetheart. Don't do this. Don't leave. Whatever you want, whatever you need so that we can make this work, we'll find our way through this together just please…I'm begging you don't tell me that what you want is to rid yourself of me--"

"That's the last thing I want," you managed to choke out, your eyes stinging with even more tears. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mustering every ounce of strength you had left to finally say the sentiment you prematurely blurted out when he first popped up at your house. "I love you, too."

You woke up the next morning the same way you'd been ever since you and Tom first got together, his arm wrapped around you, the butterflies fluttering violently in your stomach from how he held your body against his without a stitch of clothing between you two, along with the tender kisses he peppered along your shoulder. It was a routine you'd not only found yourself getting comfortable with, but you were looking forward to it whenever you felt yourself rousing from sleep.

And that part scared the living daylights out of you.

Relationships? Routines? Your mind wandering to that place that you said you never dared think about in the context of being in any kind of relationship again, because the last time you did, the rug got pulled out from under you and threw your life and the future you envisioned into a blender?

You swore to yourself that day all those years ago that you were never going to let yourself get this comfortable. That you would always have your safety measures in place so that you never had to worry about having to scramble your way back up to your feet without any sense of direction.

And you did. You had your measures. You had your walls up. You put your heart under lock and key and said you'd never give it to someone again. Yet here you were, basically opening the chest and telling Tom that it was right there for the taking.

A chest you couldn't close again even if you tried. Even if you wanted to.

The feel of his lips pressing a kiss between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a tiny whimper, making him smile and hum against your skin. "Good morning, goddess."

You were growing concerningly comfortable with that, too.

He moved you until you were lying with your back flat on the mattress, brushing his nose across yours as he gave you a contented smile. "I love you."

You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your own face hearing the words. "Hmm…careful, you keep talking like that I might get used to it."

He laid his lips on yours, giving you a tender kiss as he gently ran his hand down the side of your body before stopping at your hip, his thumb stroking your skin. "I want you to get used to it, because I'll be saying it a lot from now on." His lips traced a line down to the base of your throat. "I love you," he murmured against your skin repeatedly as he kissed along your collarbone.

"I love you, too," you whimpered as he kissed his way down to your stomach, his shaky exhale warming your skin even more. You placed your hand on his shoulder, leading him to refocus his attention to kissing his way up your arm. "I really stepped on the ledge yesterday…" you trailed off, struggling to take a deep breath as you tried to find the words, ultimately settling on the simplest ones. You weren't likely to find better words anyways. "Thank you for talking me off of it."

He took his time kissing his way back up to your lips, never breaking eye contact. "Always, my love." The new endearment, paired with the way he tenderly kissed your lips, had your head spinning. "I'm going out to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in an hour. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Those words had you stirring, making a motion to sit up on the bed. "What? No, you don't need to do that, you'll get papped. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed, I'll do it."

"If you go out, they'll photograph you, too," he argued. "Pictures of us are still fresh on their minds, which means these vultures are still very much on the lookout for you out and about, waiting to take pictures in hopes of selling them to the sleaziest gossip sites. Give it a week, maybe two, and they'll refocus their attention on someone else. Them and the internet."

You slumped back into the bed with a soft thud, surrendering to the fact that unfortunately, the logic made sense. You needed a good few days to let your face and those photos fade into relative irrelevancy. "You probably need your team to spin some story on why we were seen together, too," you sighed, the discomfort of having to let the wheels turn in your head before you've even had a bite of food or a sip of coffee starting to make you skittish. "I mean, the saying goes that we can't put the genie back in the bottle, but what if it isn't fully out yet? We still have a chance to…I don't know, mitigate the situation?"

Tom rested his forehead against yours, letting out a deep sigh as he laid back down on the bed as well, pulling you into his arms so that your head rested on his chest. "One day it won't be this toxic."

His words had you giggling, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. "It's adorable that you think that, but no. But one day maybe the voices of those who would genuinely just be happy for you would be louder than these snakes in the pit with their megaphones. And maybe one day I'll be strong enough to not give a fuck about any of it."

He tightened his hold on you, arms snaking around your body in an embrace that had you falling even more into that dangerous place of way too damn comfortable. "Until then I'm going to do what I can to keep you safe. It'll only be a few weeks at most. Maybe less if we're lucky and someone causes a scandal." He pressed numerous soft kisses to the tip of your nose, breaking out into a smile when his attentions caused you to let out a soft giggle. "For now, I get to keep you in the house. All to myself." His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he rolled you on to your back, rasping the next words, "Like my own beautiful brilliant little captive."

"A very willing captive," you shot back, once again going breathless when he started kissing you all over your neck and chest. "Be careful out there? Don't let them get a reaction out of you, no matter what they ask. Or what they say about me."

"I will," he mumbled, humming against your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your body, nipping at your waist before pulling away. He made his way to his closet, shooting a playful knowing glance at you when he saw how you propped yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the view. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he chuckled, throwing on his usual running gear of a black t-shirt with the Legendary logo and black shorts that were definitely a size too small with how the garment hugged and accentuated his hips and upper thighs. Not to mention how those shorts made it all too obvious that your boyfriend happily and proudly chooses neither when it came to the age-old debate of boxers or briefs.

He walked back toward the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over you to capture your lips in a heated kiss, as if it had been weeks since he'd done it last rather than mere minutes. His hand freely roamed your side, lightly grasping at your hips while he slowly laid you back down flat on the bed. Once he had, he broke the kiss to press his lips to the tip of your nose, then to your forehead.

"I'll wake you when I'm back home. Promise me you won't check on those pages again. None of them deserve our time, or our emotions. I love you, goddess."

"I promise. I love you, too."

A/N: Welcome to the second part of the 'said it first' arc! This would probably be the angstiest moment in their entire relationship and precious bf meow meow really answered her "I'm leaving" with "No ur not I love u 🥺" and we love him for it your honor

Three more parts to this arc and hopefully I can pull myself out of playing my lil games long enough to actually get to writing any of the pieces in my rotation 😅🫡

Here's a gif for everyone who reads 'til the end of the post…this be what the blorbos were like in that last scene:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[wileys-russo]

time management II a.russo x reader

hello! this is my first ever post so pls be nice. It makes me sO nervous to dip my toe into writing on woso tumblr after only being a reader from afar but here we are 🫶🏻

time management II a.russo x reader

"baby? i'm back!" your girlfriend called out from the front door, the soft thud of her kit bag hitting the floor followed by a small grunt as she wrestled to take off her trainers. You couldn't help but chuckle as you heard yet another small thud followed by a yelp and some quiet cursing, it had all but become part of her routine now to fall over during the seemingly simple task. 

"hi clumsy." you greeted her with a knowing smile, the blonde huffing to blow a loose strand of hair out of her face, cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment and face flushed and rosy from training as she entered your eye line. "stupid floor." the girl grumbled in annoyance, shrugging off her training jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair as she stepped into the living room. 

The italian's large hands gently rested on either side of your face, tilting your head back ever so slightly as she bent down down to press a soft but sweet kiss to your forehead as she passed the back of the lounge you were currently sprawled on, work laptop perched precariously on your knees. 

"i wonder if we get a discount now when we go to the emergency room since you're such a frequented visitor." you teased with a grin, the older girl shooting you an unimpressed glare before she disappeared into the kitchen where you heard the tap running as she no doubt chugged a glass of water, yet another step in the post training routine.

"how was it?" you called out, eyes drifting back to the screen in front of you, the half completed report card staring back at you almost tauntingly. Your chest tightened somewhat when you glanced at the last name, a quiet sigh falling from your lips confirming you still had at least nineteen left to write before they were due for submission on monday. As the seconds ticked by friday was ever closer to being over, only tightening your deadline.

Unlike your superstar striker girlfriend you were not gifted with sporting ability, however what you may have lacked in the athletic department you made up for in the academic field. You'd always had a subtle but present passion for sharing knowledge with others, which with a gentle push from your own teachers, inevitably lead you down the path of teaching. After a few grueling years of uni and various placements your hard work paid off and you had finally secured your first permanent primary teaching position.

With the term holidays looming the days seemed to tick by ever so slowly for both you and your year 5 class, which they all made sure to remind you on a daily basis, especially when they were having to participate in anything apart from lunch or recess. The constant battle to keep them focused on anything but what they planned to do when not in school had you wanting to tear your hair out.

You adored your class, and of course you loved teaching. But the final two weeks of term was forever the most stressful for you, and as much as you tried to bottle it up, you were almost certain you were partially responsible for your students wild behavior, it was as if they picked up on your internal erratic energy.

As much as you'd secretly love to give into their endless demands, throw on some mind numbing cotton fluff childrens films for them to consume and keep quiet for the next week, you knew they would in the long term benefit from the lessons. Plus whose to say with a little money taken out of your own pocket you couldn't make it a little more fun for them in this upcoming final week like you'd planned.

Though you had one end goal, which was two weeks off to spend as much time with your friends, family and of course your girlfriend as you could squeeze in amongst some much needed self care time for yourself. Though it meant added stress in the meantime with forward planning your first couple weeks lessons back of next term before this term would even finish as to allow you to actually spend the time away from work, away from work.

"good! got a new PB on the bench press, even beat mary." alessia beamed in response to your prior question as she joined you, her competitive nature not much of a secret to those who knew her well enough. Growing up the youngest of three and the only girl it wasn't hard to see why she was wired with such a drive to win, and looking at her career so far it was even easier to see the obvious benefits it had for her.

"bet she loved that." you chuckled, eyes still focused on your screen as your fingers flew across the keyboard, finishing your sentence before placing it onto the coffee table your feet had been happily perched on, making sure your girlfriend knew she had your full attention as she rambled on for awhile about training and the upcoming match tomorrow.

"ah! you're all sweaty, go shower first." the taller girl grunted a little in shock as your legs shot out to press into her chest, stopping her from collapsing on top of you as you knew she'd intended to. "what! come on just one hug." the blondes perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed together as her bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Though after almost three years together now you were well aware of her games and overtime it had become much easier not to give into them, at least most of the time.

"no less, you know I hate it just go shower." you shook your head with a small smile, pointing upstairs sternly as your own eyebrows quirked upwards at her obvious defiance. "you don't always hate when I'm sweaty." your girlfriend grinned cheekily at the suggestive comment as she grabbed your feet, your cheeks flushing with warmth which didn't go unnoticed by the italian, adoring the effect her words could have on you when she wanted them to.

"go shower! you smell." you kicked at her lightly with a smirk as she swatted your legs away with ease, rolling her eyes playfully at the jab and turning as if to head upstairs as you reached over for your laptop assuming the conversation was over. 

A sincere mistake on your part as your girlfriend suddenly turned on her heel, launching herself back towards you and over the arm of the lounge, careful of how she landed as you felt her larger form envelop yours, arms encasing your torso and face plunged into your neck.

"alessia!" you squealed in surprise, desperately trying to shove her off of you to no avail as the much stronger girl held on with ease, going so far as to purposely rubbing her sweat dampened hair in your face. "get off! please!" you begged with a scream, laughter echoing around the room as the striker dug her fingers teasingly into your sides, legs slotted in-between your own, careful not to completely crush you beneath her.

"say you missed me and maybe I'll get off." alessia grinned, her lips inevitably finding your own, your stomach doing a back flip as they did, your arms coming to wrap around her neck, hand pressing on the back of her head only spurring her on to deepen the kiss further.

"no! I hate you, get off." you pushed her away with a peal of laughter as her tongue slipped inside your mouth, stopping things before the two of you got anymore carried away. 

"now that's not very nice, no one likes a liar bella." the blonde beamed, bright blue orbs locked with yours, you made sure to tear your gaze away before you got lost in them, melting at the italian endearment as it fell from her lips.

"get off me or I'll call your mum and tell her about our little trip last week." you threatened, withdrawing your hands from around her neck to cross them over your chest, your girlfriends eyes narrowing at your words as she pushed herself up, resting on her forearms which sat either side of your head. 

The threat was not taken lightly, her mum having all but promised the next time her daughter had any sort of stumble at home she'd move in and permanently encase her in bubble wrap, the girls clumsy nature making her a danger not only to herself but also to those around her.

Her most recent victim had of course been you, the slightly tipsy girl had been attempting to romantically carry you upstairs to bed after a big win, the two of you having celebrated with a bottle of wine and catching up on Love Island. 

But the sweet moment hadn't last long and before you knew it she'd tripped over a discarded trainer and promptly dropped you down half a flight of stairs. Luckily all you suffered was a slight cut above your eyebrow from a knock against the banister, and a lovely week of mild bruising on your tailbone. But forever overprotective alessia had insisted you go right to the emergency room to get assessed for a  concussion, and there was no convincing her otherwise. 

After the cut had been cleaned and sealed with a band aid, you'd been deemed not concussed  and alessia had copped a stern talking to from mary who she'd called for a ride, all was well again.

"you wouldn't." "lessi my love we both know I would."

"you know blackmail is a very unattractive quality." alessia tutted with a shake her head, the hint of a smile ghosting her lips betraying her attempt at a stern look as you smiled smugly, knowing you'd won. 

"go shower, i have to keep doing these reports anyway." your face softened as you gently tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind the strikers ears, the older girl melting at the sincere touch as she stole a quick kiss and pushed herself off of you, standing to her feet and padding off upstairs.

You watched her go with a smile, shaking your head and readjusting your position, grabbing your laptop and mentally checking back into the work with a click of your mouse pad and a sigh. 

You had powered through another three reports by the time your girlfriend returned, her skin care routine always taking up an elaborate amount of time, though your own routines often out lasted hers so you had no room to comment. 

Your indecisiveness, non existent sense of urgency and endless 'final' touch ups when getting ready meant the two of you were known to be late for any event you were invited to, something that frustrated your incredibly punctual girlfriend to no end. But as you were always quick to cheekily remind her with a kiss, perfection took time.

The blonde joined you again on the couch, this time grabbing your mostly bare legs, save for a very short pair of football shorts, and lifting them to rest on her lap. Slotting her body in beside you, she fondly lent over to kiss your cheek before grabbing the remote from where it lay tucked into the side of the lounge. 

Your eyes glanced up from your screen with a quiet chuckle as she clicked in to watch united's match from last week, the calculated re-watching a common habit for the striker the night before a game. You were much accustomed to all of her pre and post match routines, and knew her well enough to know exactly what she needed from you on all occasions, win or lose, good game or bad.

"Where'd you dig these out from then?" The girl mused quietly, fingers tugging up your hoodie and prodding accusingly at the baby blue unc kit shorts she'd sworn she'd lost during the move to your current shared flat. 

"I've always known where they were." you answered cheekily as your lips quirked into a smile, eyes flickering over to hers before returning to your screen, now being alessia's turn to roll her eyes playfully at your vague response. 

Throughout the entire course of your relationship right down to the first few months of dating, her clothes had always seemed to magically appear on your body or in your closet. The girl having to practically beg for them to be given back, you only begrudgingly returning them once they stopped smelling like the Italian beauty you were rapidly falling head over heels for.

(though not that she had to confess to you how much she enjoyed you wearing her clothes for you to catch on how much she did. The blonde was hardly subtle in her affections toward you on a regular day, let alone when she'd return from training or wake up after a sleep in to you pottering around in the kitchen wearing only her jersey, last name sprawled proudly across your shoulder blades)

It all started off harmless, the taller girl always having been incredibly affectionate and touchy toward you, which was no issue given both your love languages included touch. Her hands rested innocently on your knees, tracing small shapes into the soft skin, but then they started to move a little higher, wandering hands gently grabbing at your thighs.

"alessia." you warned quietly, quickly moving her hands away from where they sat dangerously close to the hem of your hoodie. The blonde only hummed, eyes trained in concentration to the game on the tv in front of her, hands laying dormant on your thighs, perfectly manicured and resuming their absent minded tracing.

"less." you warned again, this time with a tired sigh as her hands slid up your legs and her fingers dipped into the waistband of your shorts, nails scratching gently against your hips. "I think you should take a break amore mio." the striker smiled charmingly, hands immediately placed back to where you'd moved them from, the girl interlocking your fingers and bringing them to her lips, gently kissing the back of your palm.

"love we go through this every term, I have to get these reports done. Would you rather I not come to your game tomorrow? Because if we carry on with what you want right now, that's going to be the outcome." You again sighed, your girlfriend leaning in to bury her face into your neck as you messed around with the rings adorning her slender fingers.

"Of course I want you at the game. Just take a small break, let me give you a massage or something." The girl mumbled, pressing feather light kisses to the sensitive skin, your eyes briefly fluttering closed in pleasure before you shrugged her away.

"Five minutes, that's it." You warned seriously, your girlfriend nodding eagerly as her lips quickly reattached to your neck. "Please don't tell me you're setting a timer." she sighed, forehead slumping down to press into your shoulder with a groan, already knowing the answer to her own question as you finished up tapping away at the apple watch on your wrist.

You placed your laptop back on the coffee table, your girlfriend nudging for you to adjust your position on the lounge, turning your body so your back pressed into her front. 

"Baby your shoulders are ridiculously knotted, try to relax." alessia chastised quietly, you withholding a moan as her fingers dug expertly into your skin, working hard to try and de-stress your tightly clenched muscles. 

"is it working?" the blonde asked softly, peppering buttery kisses down the side of your jaw and you hummed, closing your eyes with a content sigh of relief.

"good. So, mearps and tooney will be here in a bit to-" alessia started as your eyes shot open, stress once again consuming you, pushing your body away from hers, eyes widening. 

"Tonight? I have to get back to these reports less." you sighed tiredly, both of you jumping slightly as your timer sounded and you were quick to tap it off, moving your body further away from alessia's who frowned at the sudden lack of contact.

You adored your girlfriends team mates, both at club and country, all of them making sure you knew that just because they were alessia's friends first didn't mean they loved or cared for you any less.

lotte and georgia even having gone out of their way to give alessia herself a stern talking to about never breaking your heart, it may have been fueled by an alcohol filled celebration post euros win, but never failed to make you laugh or feel the sincere care from the other girls.

Right now however the two bubbly Manchester players were the last people you wanted to see, entertaining anyone a thought far from your reach and capacity at the moment. 

You had plans you felt you couldn't back out of for the rest of your weekend. A doctors appointment tomorrow morning, lessons to be planned for the new term, going to alessia's game in the afternoon and out with her family for dinner afterwards. Then Sunday would be consumed by your own family, your grandmothers 95th birthday not something you could just skip out on, and your family were not ones to half do a celebration so you knew it would be a full day commitment. 

So in accordance you'd planned to get your reports done tonight so you could enjoy your weekend stress free. 

Though subconsciously you knew 'stress free' was always going to be a lie.

 You'd had a lot longer than a few days to get these done, but with procrastination and long days overwhelmed by wrangling 25 stir crazy holiday hungry students, your week had drizzled by without a single one touched, every time you tried filled with someone else needing your attention, both at school and at home.

It didn't help that because your girlfriends love language was touch, when your attention couldn't be on her in the minimal time you had alone together during your busy weeks, she'd often become quite frustrated and needy. 

"I don't see why you're upset, haven't you had all week to get them done?" your girlfriend questioned, not intending it to come across as accusatory as it did. "alessia-" you started with a sharp sigh, fingers squeezing the bridge of your nose as you pressed your eyes closed.

"you know the time leading up to the end of term is the busiest for me. The kids are wild and un-engaged but I still have to get through the last of the curriculum with them, I have to go through all their homework and all their assignments to collate these reports, I have to forward plan my lessons for next term so I can actually have a break in-between them-" you paused to take another deep breath, feeling the stress bubbling up rapidly inside you.

"- we have plans with our families all weekend, I need peace and quiet to get these done tonight and as much as I love tooney and mearps we both know that won't happen if they're here." You inhaled, closing your eyes and letting go of the bridge of your nose to run your hands through your hair, letting out a slow and shaky exhale.

"So you have had all week to get them done then." alessia shot back without thinking, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly as you paused to take a breath, knowing that if you gave in to an argument there was even less chance of you getting things done. 

"Can you not just reschedule to another night? Or go to one of their houses?" You asked softly, trying not to let your emotions win over. "Could you not have worked on your time management? I feel like we have this exact same argument over your inability to mange your own work load all the time!" alessia challenged with a frown, your own face falling at the lack of understanding and support from the girl who was supposed to be your partner.

"like you said, this happens every term. You never manage your time right and get overwhelmed and stressed when it comes to a head when all of your stress could be avoided if you just learnt from the mistakes made last time, prioritized things correctly and fixed the problem!" alessia huffed, throwing her hands up and sending you a pointed look of annoyance.

"you know what? You're absolutely right alessia I don't have the time management to argue about this right now. And yes this is all my fault, because between being needed at school or needed by my students or their parents or needed by my own family or my own friends or your friends or my coworkers or my boss, how dare I not prioritize you and your needs from me. Oh wait? That's what I'm trying to do so I can come to your stupid fucking match tomorrow! So congratulations you are absolutely right and you do whatever you want, just leave me alone and don't expect to see me there tomorrow." you finally snapped, the stress bubbling up and boiling over before you even had a moment to take a breath. 

Standing to your feet and snatching your phone and laptop from the table you stormed off upstairs, the slam of the bedroom door seemingly triggering knocks at the front one announcing the arrival of your dinner guests, who had no idea what they were about to walk into.

Alessia looked upstairs and bit down on her bottom lip, contemplating following you, but the continuing knocks at the front door had made the decision for her, the girl composing herself before hurrying over to open it. "Finally! What did I interrupt you mid shag?" mary teased, hurrying inside past her teammate who closed the door afterwards, still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

"Hope everyone's decent!" mary yells looking around for you, the teasing grin falling flat from her face as she instantly picks up on the strange tension in the room and the somewhat guilty look plastered to the young blonde in front of hers face.

"Where's tooney then?" alessia asked quietly, making her way into the kitchen to grab mary something to drink. "Her turn to buy dinner, she was still trying to decide what to pick up on the way. Hey leave that, what's happened?" mary moved to close the fridge, nudging alessia and opening her arms, the younger girl accepting the hug with a troubled sigh.

"What's gone on less?" mary asked softly, dragging her to sit at the island as the older woman joined her, rubbing her back gently when alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before recounting the argument and most of what lead up to it.

"Oh less." mary sighed once she'd finished, alessia resting her head on her hand with a frown. "For a smart girl you're so thick sometimes." mary stated bluntly, shoving the strikers head off of her hand as she swiped her arm out from beneath her. "mary!" alessias frown deepened, shoving the girl back whose smile only grew.

"when you get home from late training, whose got dinner ready and waiting for you on the table?" mary simply asked, shutting down the blondes questions with a wave of her hand, waiting patiently for an answer.

"she does." alessia mumbled.

"when you're in a strop cause we lose or you miss a sitter, whose there afterwards to build you back up and look after you?" mary questioned again, her pointed look shutting down any protests from the younger girl who sighed and repeated the same answer as before.

"when we go on national camps, we're away for what? weeks at a time? same thing with tournaments, away games, media days, we were gone for months with the euro's-" mary continued as alessia let out yet another troubled sigh, the pieces starting to slot together in her head.

"okay yes, I get it." the younger girl intervened, mary waving her off before continuing.

"no less, let me finish. You got upset because what? she doesn't give in to your cry for attention and give into whatever you want from her? which mind you she does do every other day, as well as give her entire care and attention to twenty five kids, daily. God knows I struggle to deal with you lot who are adults daily! Not to even think about how much pressure is likely put on her from the school, her students parents, people can treat teachers like shit. But despite that she still goes out of her way to do the little things like double check your kit bag for you on a weekend in case you forgot something, leave those soppy little notes in your bags for you to find when we go away to camp, go out of her way to cook for you and have it ready when you're home late . But that's probably because she knows how moody you get when you don't eat right." mary joked lightly, bumping her shoulder playfully against her teammates.

"my point is, you can hardly have a go at her for you not thinking she's managing her time right. When the main things you're sopping about her not having time for is something she avoids things like her work, to do. So really..." mary trailed off, looking hopefully to the blonde beside her.

"-she's not bad at managing her time, I need to get better at managing my expectations around her time." alessia finished as mary's eyebrows shot up in surprise, that answer better than what she was even angling for.

"bingo!" mary confirmed as alessia let out another loud groan, feeling the weight of the dirt from the hole she'd dug herself into beginning to weigh heavily on her shoulders. "that makes it sound like I'm one of her students just constantly demanding her time and attention." alessia whined into her hands, shaking her head remorsefully. "I mean you said it, but if the shoe fits..." mary trailed off with a shrug, unable to argue the somewhat valid point made. 

"less, you've been infatuated with the girl since you laid eyes on her in that coffee shop, there's a reason we took the mick out of you for it. Show her that when she's struggling to manage her time and her workload, you're there as her partner to help her shoulder it and work through it. Support her like she's always supporting you, its not all about the big gestures either. Do the little things that help take away from the stress she's feeling right now, you love each other very very much, and she still knows that." mary comforted the striker, again gently rubbing a hand up and down her back as alessia nodded.

"well I'd say my work here is done, that'll be 250 pounds for my valuable time and treasured advice please." mary stood to her feet, holding out her hand expectantly, alessia unable to keep from cracking a small smile as she pushed the keepers arm away.

"right. I'll go call tooney and we'll bugger off, you go fix things with your lady and hopefully I'll see you both tomorrow. But-" mary started before alessia cut her off, guessing already what the keeper had to say. "-but if she has reports to do, it's okay that she misses the game." alessia confirms, mary beaming proudly as the two of them walked to the front door.

"good girl, god they grow up and learn so quickly." mary wiped a fake tear from her face as alessia practically shoved her out the door, thanking her and with a quick hug she was disappearing off into the crisp april air.

meanwhile you sat upstairs trying your very best to concentrate on the reports in front of you, your mind running rampant with the stress at the thought of not getting them done, the overthinking causing somewhat of an internal meltdown as you closed your laptop and laid down with a large sigh.

a knock at the bedroom door shifted your focus, you sat back up and hastily yanked the laptop open before resting it on your knees, calling for alessia to come in. the blonde gingerly opened the door and leant against the frame, rocking awkwardly on the balls of her feet as your eyes stayed trained to your screen.

"i made dinner." the older girl announced softly, running a hand through her hair with a small sigh when you didn't respond. "do you want me to bring you up a plate so you can keep working?" she took a seat carefully on the corner of the bed, reaching out to place a hand on your ankle, a small sense of relief spreading through her body when you didn't push her away.

"i'm sorry." "i'm sorry."

you looked up as you both spoke in sync, small smiles settling on both your faces as you did. 

"you don't have anything to be sorry for, I've been quite selfish. You have so much on your plate at the moment and instead of helping you share the load I've just been adding to it and complaining when things don't go my way. that's not healthy and not helpful and i'm really sorry, i hope it isn't too late to change that." alessia was quick to apologize again as you closed your laptop and moved, sat beside one another at the end of the bed.

"i could have communicated things a little better instead of just bottling it all up and then snapping on you, that wasn't fair and i'm sorry too. And you were right I do need to get better at managing my time and prioritizing things so it doesn't all bank up to be dealt with at the last minute." you admitted shyly, the both of you reaching out for the others hands, fiddling absentmindedly with one another's fingers.

"i love you." alessia blurted out, a smile creeping onto your face at the words, echoing them back as you both shared a tender kiss, relief filling both your bodies that the argument for now had been resolved. 

"where's mearps and tooney?" you asked, perking up as you suddenly remembered part of what lead to the argument in the first place. "at their own places, mary might have popped over and admittedly talked some sense into me." the italian admitted with a guilty smile, the two of you sharing a look before bursting out into laughter, both of you looking toward the keeper as an older sister figure for this reason.

"so, game plan." your girlfriend straightened up, kissing your knuckles before dropping your hand. "i'll bring you up some dinner, you work on your reports, try to go to bed before eleven and get some sleep. then tomorrow i'll drive you to your appointment in the morning, go to my game. You stay here, and do your reports. i'll tell my family we'll go to dinner next week instead, they come every week so they won't mind, we order pizza for dinner and i'll be around if you need anything but i'll stay out of your hair. Then hopefully everything's done by your grandmas birthday on sunday." alessia rambled out, only pausing to take a breath once she'd finished.

"less, baby-" your eyebrows knitted together, the girl holding up her hand to silence your protests before they could fall from your mouth. "no, you always go above and beyond for me, this is the least i can do for you. please?" she practically begged, hand coming to softly rest on your cheek as you nodded, leaning in to connect your lips again, smiling at the all too familiar feeling of warmth it ignited in you.

long term you knew this was a problem you had to work on, but for right now, wrapped up in your little love bubble, you knew things were going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Nine

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: i love angst and i love it when roy acts like a middle aged white woman at a wine party where he laughs too loud and pretends he's having a great time just to get through it all

Word count: 6.5k

Chapter Nine

After a few weeks, you’d already got used to the tube journey from Richmond to Somerset House. You reluctantly found out that, despite London being one city and the tube routes being easy, it was so fucking huge that it took you almost an hour to get to work. Maybe that was your fault for staying in Richmond instead of moving, but you didn’t mind a longer commute into the City of London if that meant you got to stay put.

Pluto Press was unique, and you felt proud to have a position there. Your desk was by the window, looking over the Strand outside. Your colleagues were nice, and you got to work alongside artists and writers wherever you went. It was like a dream come true. Which was why, as you arrived home on the Friday of your second week, you couldn’t understand why you felt so… shit. You felt lonely, isolated, and so overtired that you were certain your brain wasn’t working at full capacity. You missed the team at AFC Richmond, talks with Keeley and Rebecca, Ted’s american jokes– Roy.

Since his last game, Roy had gone off the grid. You were lucky if you randomly saw him out and about in Richmond. You’d attempted to meet up with him after his retirement press conference, a month after the end of your placement and his injury, but to no avail. And even now, staring at your phone, glass of wine in your hand as you settled in for another Friday night alone, you had the urge to text him. You downed your wine before you did, and dropped the glass onto your coffee table as you opened up Roy’s and yours text chain. Then, you typed:

Are you coming to the game tomorrow? I’d love to see you!

Enthusiasm wasn’t the key to Roy’s heart, but you’d run out of options to get him to respond. It was only a friendly match, anyway, since the season was still a few months out. You wanted to imagine him there tomorrow, black shirt and black leather jacket donned, hands stuffed in his pockets, as he settled into his seat at the Dogtrack– not as a player, but as an admirer, maybe. 

When you sat in the owner’s box the next day, with the whistle about to be blown, you couldn’t stop calling yourself an idiot. Why the fuck would Roy want to come back here, of all places? The pitch where he played his last game, the stadium where he trained for his last season ever, surrounded by the people who got to keep playing after he all but faded away. 

You settled into your seat with a sour taste in your mouth and a frown on your face. Keeley squeezed your hand affectionately. “You okay, babe?” she asked. 

You shook your head, trying to get yourself out of this hole. “I asked Roy to come,” you told her. “Stupid, really.”

Keeley frowned at you empathetically. “ You tried, babe, but I think that’s all we can do right now after his retirement.”

You nodded, feeling sick. “Yeah.” You forced yourself to perk up, to focus on the positives, and abruptly shot up from your seat. “Come on, Richmond!” you screamed into the void, in some attempt to make you feel better about it all. 

That feeling only lasted so many days. By Tuesday of the next week, you were back to feeling overwhelmed, overtired, and so lonely that you genuinely didn’t know what to do with yourself. Most of your colleagues at work didn’t live anywhere near the west, so you were forced to leave after work drinks early, or not go at all, just to get home at a reasonable hour. 

The walk from Richmond station to your flat was becoming so dull that you could hardly stand it. One Thursday in the beginning of July, you elected to cut through Richmond Green and travel a longer route home, just to stop your brain from imploding. You left the station in the complete opposite direction to your flat, and said fuck it in your head. You passed over the green, treading along the concrete paving around the edge, until you reached Mae’s pub. 

To your surprise, inside you saw the unmistakable moustache of one Ted Lasso, sitting opposite the familiar hat donned by one Coach Beard. Your heart soared, and you bound into the pub before you could tell yourself to slow the fuck down. Ted spotted you as soon as you entered the bar, and stood up immediately. You realigned your direction of movement and took a hard right, heading straight towards the coaches.

“Well, howdy–!” You wrapped your arms around him before he’d even finished speaking. The happy smile on his face quickly dropped to a confused frown. Ted embraced you warmly, and it was clear to see that something was very wrong. “Hey–” He was going to ask if you were alright, but he stopped himself. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

Beard peered up at the two of you, his face stoney and thoughtful. His finger tapped on his chin in subtle curiosity and concern. Ted didn’t urge you to say anything, not for those few moments where he held you tightly. Beard gestured to Mae at the bar, and whispered “One lager, please, Mae. On our tab.” She brought it over in a matter of seconds, and you finally pulled away from Ted long enough to suck in a breath. 

You glanced at the beer on the table for you. “Thank you, Mae,” you croaked, turning to look at her as she strolled back to the bar. She smiled at you warmly, and you finally took a seat alongside the coaches. “Sorry, Coach. Didn’t mean to ambush you,” you breathed out. 

“I don’t mind it, not when it’s you who’s doing the ambushing,” Ted said, taking a sip of his beer and waving it off like it was nothing. 

“Seems to me like there’s something going on,” Beard chimed in, and took a sip of beer to mimic Ted before him. His eyes seemed mischievous, like he was looking for gossip, but that was generally what Beard looked like when he wanted to know something. He was like an old, wise owl. He placed his beer back on the table. “It’s either that, or I just haven’t noticed that you’ve always looked like you’re in the middle of an existential crisis.”

“Very funny,” you let out, tapping your glass anxiously. “I’d go with the former over the latter, Beard.” 

“I know,” he said, before he smiled at you knowingly. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You frowned at the table while Ted and Beard waited patiently for you to open up. You felt silly. How could you put your loneliness into words when it felt so unnatural? You had no reason to feel so terrible. You had a great new job, lived in a gorgeous neighbourhood, and had everything you could possibly want in life. You had the guys, and couldn’t wait until the season started up again in a few months, despite them being relegated to the Championship. You had Keeley and Rebecca, two strong and powerful women who you could confide in and rely on if you really needed to. You had… Well, that was just it. 

Did you really have Roy anymore? 

“It’s so stupid,” you started, trying to keep yourself steady, but all composure went out of the window as soon as those three words left your lips. “I have no reason to be this way. My new job is fucking fantastic, and I still get to live in Richmond, in my flat that I love so much, and I still get to go to games and see the guys and walk to Nelson Road across the green. This is all so fucking stupid.” You smacked your hands over your face in frustration. “I have no reason to feel this alone.” Your words were muffled beneath your palms, but Ted and Beard still glanced at each other with concern. 

“You’re feeling lonely?” Ted asked gently. 

You dragged your hands down your cheeks and sniffed through your snotty nose. “A little bit.” 

“A little bit.” Beard mimicked you. You scoffed abruptly, and it felt good just for a second.

Ted shuffled next to you, and readied himself to speak. “Lemme tell you something about loneliness,” he started. “When you feel it, you always feel silly. You feel like a dang moron, because all it does is make you think about all the people you have in your life that are there to listen to you, yet when you reach out, you pretend not to feel that loneliness, am I right?” 

You remembered the text you’d sent to Roy. So over enthusiastic in some attempt to hide how awful you’d been feeling. When he didn’t respond, or give you any indication that he’d even read your message, it just made you feel even worse. If you’d been honest, maybe he would have been more inclined to reply.

You nodded at Ted in understanding. “It’s hard sometimes. To tell people close to you that you’re struggling.” 

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Ted said. “That’s the catch, ain’t it? You wanna keep things light, you wanna keep things happy, but sometimes you can’t. And that’s alright. It’s okay to feel lonely, and tired, and tearful. Don’t beat yourself up for any of that.” 

You held onto Ted’s words for dear life. You’d never understand how he was able to be so optimistic, so constantly happy. No one was truly like that, so you bet it was all a bit of an act. Even so, Ted had a way of getting through to you. His words resonated, and you found yourself listening to him more than shrugging him off. He was good to you. You had the small green, army man that he’d given you for good luck, in your pocket or your bag constantly, moving it around like a chapstick from garment to garment. 

Even now, as you gently stuck your hand into your jacket pocket, the army man was there. Gun raised, knees bent in a defensive stance, ready to protect you. 

“Have you… heard from Roy?” you asked. 

Beard looked at Ted sullenly, almost, and you understand immediately. “Roy will be Roy,” Ted said, smiling at you halfheartedly. “His retirement press conference, though– jeez, it didn’t half tug on my heartstrings, here.”

“The end of an era,” Beard said, widening his eyes with grandeur. 

“I haven’t seen him since the Man City game in May,” you said. “Two months.”

“He’ll come around eventually,” Ted said, trying to reassure you, but you were sure that nothing but seeing Roy’s face in person would be able to do that. Ted suddenly perked up. “Anyway, how’s the new job! Got some new friends? Got some new besties? Oh– have you met anyone special yet?”

If you didn’t already know Ted, this would be incredibly out of the blue. But, you did know him. He was sweet, and kind, and capable of distracting you from your sadness. He made you feel welcome, and loved, and thought about. And– he made you roll your eyes to oblivion. 

You did just that, rolled your eyes into your skull with a smile on your face. “Job is great, but the dating pool is still very much dry, Ted.”

“Dang it!” he exclaimed. “Maybe the guys were right, all those months ago, huh? You should get on some dating apps, just for funzies.”

“Keeley has been wanting me to try out one, to be honest. It’ll only be a matter of time before she forces all of you guys to get on it,” you said, pointing at Ted and Beard in warning. “It’s called… um– something with a B. Like, Bantz, or Bumz. I don’t know.” You waved your hand in front of your face, giving up on remembering. 

“Might be worth a try all the same?” Ted said, egging you on. 

You sat for a moment, thinking, before you nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I should put myself out there, yeah?”

“Heck yeah,” Ted said enthusiastically. “No harm in it, right?”

Was there any harm in it? Surely not. You were a single woman, you were free to branch out. But, underneath it all, there was still something that held you back. Without meaning to, Roy’s head popped into the back of your mind. All that you’d shared over your year at Richmond, that unspoken thing that fluctuated between you. 

You thought back to his final game then, as you remembered it all. The gentle way you held each other’s faces as you knelt on the floor beneath him, just to be close, just to let him know that you were there. The soft way he’d draped his arm over your shoulder as the team gathered after relegation. Despite the loss, and the end of his career, Roy had still laughed alongside the guys. His fingers had skimmed over your knuckles under those fluorescent lights, noticed by everyone, but it had all gone unsaid. It didn’t need to be mentioned, not when everyone had known this was bound to happen eventually. 

You and him, him and you. It fit, didn’t it? 

But, with the silence of the past few months, you didn’t know anymore. Maybe it was just the proximity, the familiarity of being around each other, that had made you believe it all to be so. Roy hadn’t said a word to you in months, hadn’t tried to. Had it all been in your mind?

As you finished your pint with Ted and Beard, talking about the new season, you forced yourself to stop thinking about Roy. You’d let him know you were there, and it had gone unreciprocated. As much as a part of you still yearned for him to be near, you had to stop putting in effort when he wasn’t trying to do the same to you. 

The name of the dating app was Bantr, and as soon as you messaged Keeley to say you were doing it, she replied with a winky face. You scoffed to yourself as you filled out your profile, and within an hour had got chatting to a guy from Richmond. 

The thing about Bantr; it was anonymous. You knew ages, and usernames, and location, but not actual names, or looks. It was a refreshing change from other apps, and you found yourself having a great conversation. Within a week, you’d already arranged to go out for dinner in the town.

As you walked to your date, a week or so after seeing Ted and Beard, you spoke to Keeley on the phone for a pep talk. 

“What if he’s ugly? Or boring?” you said. 

“Give it a chance, babes, you haven’t even met him yet!”

“I know, I know. I don’t think I was made for dating apps, honestly,” you let out, laughing to yourself to avoid a proper anxious meltdown. You thought you looked quite good, as you wore the same jumpsuit that you had for the charity ball last year. It was amongst the only fancy clothes you fucking owned. 

“You’ll get used to it. How long has it been, anyway?”

“Since I’ve got some, or since I’ve been on a date?” you joked. 

Keeley cackled down the phone. “The date. No– both.”

“A long time. For both, unfortunately.” You could practically feel Keeley grimacing.

“Go and get some then, babes,” she urged you on. “You never know, he might be your soulmate.”

You felt sick immediately, and frowned in disgust. “Ew, stop talking like that. Soulmates aren’t real. And if they were, I doubt I would meet him on Bantr.”

“Stop being so cynical,” she said, like a teacher telling off a student. “Take it from me– even if he’s not your soulmate, still try and have a good time, alright?”

You laughed softly. “Alright,” you gave in. 

“You deserve some fun! Promise me you'll have fun,” Keeley said sternly. You would never be able to deny her. 

“I promise,” you let out, alongside a smile. 

“Tell me everything. Love you.”

“Love you too, babes,” you said, before you hung up. 

You dropped your phone into your bag, and inhaled sharply as you made your way into the restaurant. Maybe this would be a good thing. A change of pace, something to get you back out there into the real world. As you waited at the bar, you shoved away the thought of Roy from your head. He didn’t belong there anymore, not when he’d made no attempt to stay close. 

Rebecca had been right. Footballers were dangerous. Especially the ones who pretended not to care. 

You spent the first twenty minutes of your date wondering if you were being pranked. There had to be a camera crew round the corner, there had to be some presenter who would pop out and tell you it was all a massive joke– because he was gorgeous. 

Lucas was his name. He had a face that lit up a room, and a voice that whacked you in the chest. For a week, you’d been discussing books, films and all the things you enjoyed over text. That didn’t change when you were face to face, but the accompaniment of seeing his face was definitely a plus. He bought you drinks, and was interested when you spoke, and all the things you’d been dying for over the past few years of being chronically single. 

“You’re new to the area, aren’t you?” he asked, as you finished your main courses. 

“Partially,” you said, tapping your wine glass. “I moved here last year for a masters degree.”

“Oh, fantastic. In what?”

You let out a breath. “It’s sort of a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” he said, smiling. “We still haven’t had dessert.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he was utterly perfect. You told him everything. The mix up from the university, the placement being at AFC Richmond, of all places. You spoke about your time there in depth, not even realising that you’d been whittling on about the guys, and Ted and Beard, for a while. By the time you were done, your dessert plates were thoroughly devoured, and you’d both moved onto something a little stronger. Lucas swilled a whiskey, and you clutched onto a gin and tonic. 

“That sounds like an awfully big adventure,” Lucas said, awestruck, when you were finally finished. 

“It was a blessing in disguise, really,” you said, smiling to yourself as all the memories of the year came flooding back. “I still got a position at Pluto Press, and I got to know some of the best people I’ve ever known. Luck was really on my side for this one, I think.”

“Definitely sounds like it,” Lucas said, gawking at you with eyes that only made you feel one thing; heard. “So, you’re still friends with them all?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. I saw Ted and Beard last week, actually. They convinced me to get on Bantr, funnily enough.”

“Well,” Lucas said softly. “You’ll have to thank them the next time you see them. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.” Your heart lurched in your chest. You fought the urge to look away and cool your face down by fanning your hands. “Also, you need to do me a favour,” he continued, and you smiled questioningly. 

“What’s that?”

“I was a big Chelsea fan growing up, the biggest, if you can imagine it,” Lucas said. “My favourite player of all time was number six, Roy Kent.” Your heart dropped into your gut. When before it had been pumping happily, it was now a stone in your stomach, ready to be ejected through your windpipe. “The next time you see him, can you get me his autograph?”

You stopped breathing for a moment, from a lack of what to say. As soon as Lucas saw your face, he changed his demeanour immediately. 

He leant forward and looked at you with a gentle smile. “I’m totally joking,” he said quickly. You could breathe again, and found yourself stuttering out some chuckles of relief. “It was a joke, truly,” he repeated himself. 

The two of you shared some awkward laughter, but you were thankful it was all a bit of fun. “You scared me,” you said. “You don’t know Roy. If I asked for an autograph he’d fully think I’d gone mad.”

“You seem to know him quite well,” Lucas figured out. “I’m probably barking up the wrong tree, but he doesn’t seem like the friendly type.”

Your chest burst with the need to defend him immediately. “That’s not true at all. Don’t believe what the press says,” you said quickly. “Roy is… he’s… well– an arseshole, completely, but…” You swallowed, allowing yourself to think of him, just this once. “He’s also one of the kindest people I know.”

Lucas smiled, satisfied. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said. 

He paid the bill, and batted away every attempt you gave to pay half of it. As the two of you left the restaurant, Lucas put his arm out for you. You took it graciously, and the two of you walked back into town together. He walked you to your door as you continued your conversation, and when he rose up the steps to your building, he gently let your arm go. 

“I had a really lovely time tonight,” he said. 

“Me too,” you smiled. You meant it. 

“I’d really like to see you again,” he said strongly, before he backed up slightly. “Only if that was something that you wanted, as well, of course.”

You were already laughing by the time he’d finished. “I would love that, yes.”

“Great,” he said. “I’ll call you?”

You nodded, and he nodded too, both of you smiling like two school children who’d just discovered crushes on the other. As he left, you watched him walk away and around the corner. You felt giddy, you felt content, and you couldn’t believe it had all gone so well. Part of you was certain it was all too good to be true, but you followed Keeley’s advice as you entered your flat. You told yourself not to overthink it, to let yourself have a good time, to embrace something going well for once. 

Even so, as you got ready for bed at home, your mind kept flashing back to Roy. He was part of you, and it was impossible to ignore it all. As much as you shouldn’t have, you felt guilty. You and Roy had never been a thing, never gone there, yet you felt like you’d betrayed him, almost. The happiness from your beautiful evening quickly descended into sadness. You’d never felt more lonely than this, despite having a lovely meal with a gorgeous man. 

You dropped yourself onto your sofa, and brought out your phone. Quickly, you clicked on Roy’s name and began typing out a message. You sent it before your slightly drunk self could take it back, choosing to be honest with him for once in your life. 

I miss you. 

As the season kicked off, you focused on work. You applied yourself generously, and were hanging out with your colleagues in the city even more so. You took Keeley’s and Ted’s advice on board– you opened yourself up to more. You went on a few more dates on Bantr, including a second date with Lucas, over the next few weeks. 

None of them had worked out well, apart from Lucas himself. He’d kissed you after your second date, and you’d had to tell yourself not to invite him into your flat for a drink. You didn’t want to rush it all, didn’t want to dive into something that you were enjoying at this pace. Despite being in need– desperately, if you were being honest– you held yourself to a higher standard than that. Not that there was anything wrong with having fun and sleeping around, but you were out of practice. You’d rather sleep with someone you knew a bit more, before jumping straight in. 

Lucas seemed fine with that, too. He made an active effort to call you occasionally, and you’d both talk about work or your plans or your friends and family. He made you laugh, and that was a big green flag in your eyes. 

“So, when are you going to fuck?” Keeley said, and you scoffed abruptly. You both sat in the owner’s box at the Dogtrack, watching Richmond’s third match of the Championship season. July was well and truly over, as the second week of August had just begun. 

Still– nothing from Roy. You’d stopped caring to count the days. 

“Not everything has to be about sex,” you hit back. 

“Sure, I know that. But if he’s really as gorgeous as you say, why the fuck haven’t you yet? Are you playing hard to get?”

“Absolutely not. If anything I probably reply too fast to his messages,” you said. “I just… I don’t want to rush. We’re having fun, and he’s lovely, and– I just don’t need to worry about when sex is going to happen or not happen.” You made yourself believe the words you were saying, but you were definitely lying.

Keeley saw straight through you. “It’s going to happen on your next date, isn’t it?”

“God, I fucking hope so,” you burst. “It’s been over a year for me, you know.”

“A year? Like– a calendar year?”

You nodded severely, like it was the worst thing in the world that you hadn’t been dicked down in over 365 days. Since moving to Richmond, you’d never had the opportunity to, if you thought about it. You had your work colleagues, who overlapped as your friends. Shitting where you ate was always a bad idea, especially with a bunch of footballers. As much as they were all gorgeous in their own ways, you couldn’t imagine sleeping with any of them– well, except…

“What about Roy?” Keeley’s tone changed to something much softer. Her gaze hit you gently, and her eyes told you it was okay to open up to her. “You didn’t ever… you know.”

You frowned as soon as she brought him up. You shook your head, not knowing what else to say. When Roy was brought to your attention now, all you felt was anger. Red, burning rage, penetrating deep into your bones. Your prior loneliness and sadness had turned to being pissed off. 

“No. We never did.” Your voice was blunt, plain, so devoid of anything other than severity, that you hated the way you sounded. You let out a sigh, and told yourself to push forward. “He’s a footballer, Keeley. And you know exactly what he’s like. Maybe I thought something was there, but it’s been three fucking months. He hasn’t contacted me at all, and honestly– I’m done with it.”

Keeley quickly dropped her hand into your lap, clutching her fingers over your own. She smiled at you. “Screw him. You’re so much better than you were last month, so fucking screw him.”

You smiled at her, feeling your anger dissipate. You were lucky to have her, Keeley, because she wholeheartedly understood you. She supported you, and held you when you needed to be held, and yelled encouragement at you when you needed it, too. It was then, as Richmond failed to score a goal, and subsequently performed their third tie of their season so far, that you couldn’t wait for her to meet Lucas. Maybe this would turn into something great, if you only let yourself fall into it. 

A week later, across the green and beyond his neighbourhood, Roy stared at his phone for the umpteenth time that day. He had no new messages, no missed calls, not even any notifications from Dominos or Pizza Hut. He counted the days in his head– thirty-four– since you’d last contacted him. That message, the last one you’d sent him, saying you missed him; he still found his gut coiling and his chest compressing when he thought about it. 

As he oversaw his under 9’s girls football team on the pitch, he slotted his phone back into his tracksuit. This was all getting to be too much for him– missing you, avoiding Richmond, growing out his fucking hair– but he couldn’t seem to shake himself out of this after-retirement slump. 

He regretted the conference. Putting his heart on the line at the end of his career, bursting into tears behind the microphone and in front of the press. You’d messaged him about that, too, saying that you were proud of him, that you wanted to see him, that it’d been a while. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to respond. He was a prick, he knew that more than anyone, and the fact that he was actively avoiding you and other people who gave a shit, made him feel even worse about it all. 

It only made him want to stay away more. 

Maybe he could coach these under 9’s for the rest of his life, and live in seclusion, only interrupted by his yoga mums and an occasional glass of rosé. 

He entered his house that evening, grabbing a beer as soon as he did. He popped off the top, and glugged back a few gulps. The evenings were bright in summer, and it only made his house feel emptier. He glanced around his living room, skimming his eyes over his overflowing bookshelves, when he caught a look at your article. 

He’d framed it, and placed it in the middle of his homemade cards from Phoebe. As much as it stung him to look at now, it was a reminder of you. Those months together at Richmond, his final game, all of it. He thought of it all more often than he wanted, as his mind roamed and landed upon things that only made him feel worse. Going from playing football everyday to this was a big change. It hurt his heart profusely, but he knew it was partly his own doing.

He’d cut himself off from everyone, shut himself away for the foreseeable future. In some ways, he felt he deserved it. He’d battered away every attempt at people to reach out. You, Ted, Keeley; their names sat in his phone with messages from over a month ago that he’d never responded to. He gulped back more of his beer as he started getting angry at himself, and a split second decision had him finishing his drink and grabbing his house keys. He left his empty house and headed into town, as the sun still shone high over Richmond. 

You hugged Lucas as you approached the bar, and your table outside. He kissed you on the cheek affectionately, before he pulled out your chair. You sat, and he confidently waved over a waitress to take your drink orders. 

This was nice. Your third date, and neither of you could get enough of the other. You sipped on wine and talked about your daily lives, sharing jokes over some olives, as the sun skittered across the lush outside space of a central Richmond bar. 

“How are they doing?” Lucas asked, popping an olive into his mouth. 

“Not good,” you said. “They’ve tied three games in a row. Not the best after relegation, really.” You shrugged, picturing Sam’s sullen face after the game last week. 

They were all so tired, all so capable, but they’d lost Roy. It was doing a number on all of them. They missed their ex-captain.

“Hm, that’s a shame. What do you reckon is holding them back?” he asked. 

You often felt giddy when Lucas asked you about football. He listened to what you had to say, took on board your points, and thought you knew a lot more about the sport in general. It was a welcomed change from what the guys at the club had thought of your knowledge. 

“Lots of things, I suppose,” you said, taking a sip of your drink before you started. “Having Ted and Beard was always going to be a learning curve, but that wasn’t the reason for their relegation. Jamie Tartt was taken back by Man City a few months before the end of their previous season, which drastically made things worse, amongst other things.”

Other things being Roy. 

“Other things?” Lucas said, and you wished he hadn’t. 

You were trying this thing where you didn’t bring up Roy when you didn’t need to. It had helped you a lot so far, over the past few weeks, and kept your moods happier in general. When you thought of him, it was often difficult to get him out of your mind again. It only ever reminded you of the past few months of silence, and no one needed to be in the firing line for that– except him. 

Nevertheless, you sucked in a breath, and drank a large gulp of your wine, before you forced yourself to continue. “Well, their final game of last season. Other than the loss, and the relegation itself, they were definitely shaken up by–” You stopped, but not because of anything in your mind. 

Your heart catapulted into your throat when your eyes focused on him. Black t-shirt, black leather jacket, black jeans. His hair had grown out. He looked scruffy, and unkempt, and all the things that he hadn’t only a few months ago. You noticed his limp first, next to the steely gaze that he shot to the world around him. 

“Roy.” His name burst from your mouth.

He was fast approaching, about to pass the bar, and you didn’t want him to spot you. You weren’t in the mood to see him now. You wanted to enjoy your date, and get laid afterwards, and not think about him ever. 

Lucas hummed and nodded. “Oh, yeah. Losing Roy must have been a big change for them, you’re right.”

“No– uh,” you said, suddenly leaning forward to clutch onto Lucas’s arm. “Can we go inside? I suddenly have a really bad chill.”

Lucas widened his eyes at you in concern, but he didn’t seem to catch on. “Really? It’s still quite warm. I can grab you a blanket, would that help?” he suggested. God dammit he was so considerate, and kind, but you didn’t think a blanket would fix this. Panic set in tenfold.

You rethought your escape plan. “I– I’ll go to the loo, and grab one on my way out,” you said frantically, standing up far too quickly. 

Your leg hit the table abruptly, sending a sharp pain through your kneecap. You squeaked, and your glass toppled over suddenly. It was too late to be stopped, as it fell from the table and smashed upon the floor. Glass shards littered the concrete, and your presence was alerted to everyone at the bar, and beyond. 

Lucas got up swiftly, and clutched your arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, worried. 

“Yeah, I just–” You looked up, and you froze. 

Roy Kent stopped walking, as his eyes focused on your face. You felt your blood boil uncomfortably beneath your skin, as his gaze took in the panicked expression on your brow. The jig was up. He’d spotted you, due to your utter clumsiness, and a wave of upset ravaged in your chest. 

The first thing Roy thought when he saw you, was how much you were glowing. You hadn’t glowed like that in a while, not unless he counted the night of the charity ball, or when you’d interviewed him in his dining room. The sun settled over your shocked expression, a look that should have made you look scary, like a deer in headlights, but it only made his heart lurch. 

There was a man before you, clutching onto your arm as he asked you if you were okay again. He rounded the table and held you close, and as he did you finally looked away. You smiled at him, clearly embarrassed that you’d broken a glass and whacked yourself. That look was one that Roy recognised– you’d looked at him that like many times before.

This is what he’d allowed himself to pass by. You, and drinks in the summer, chatting over a bowl of olives as you swished a straw into a spritzer or got froth on your upper lip from a beer. He was a fucking idiot. Roy told himself this was it. He could either go over, and get you back– get it all back– or he could miss this opportunity and never fucking try. When he started walking again, you snapped your gaze back at him in warning. 

Roy chose to ignore it.

You could’ve punched him.

“What was that all about–?” Lucas said, as he followed your gaze. He stopped short as soon as he saw Roy, and smiled excitedly as he looked back at you. “Is that… Roy Kent?”

You inhaled sharply, deeply, trying to calm yourself down as a wave of anger rose from within you. “Yes. Yes, it is,” you said, giving up. There was a look on Roy’s face that you knew well, that fake smile that he put on for people, when he was pretending to be a joking version of himself.

“What a coincidence!” Lucas exclaimed. 

You hummed, trying to keep your tone light. “Massive,” you said bluntly. 

As Roy stepped towards you both, you felt your chest crumble ever so slightly. Lucas peered at him like an awestruck kid. This was the last thing you’d ever wanted to fucking happen. 

Roy gestured to the broken glass on the floor. “Think you dropped something.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you said, as you inhaled his words for the first time in three months. Alongside your anger, you felt your throat start to close. Seeing his face again after so long was a hit. 

“Roy Kent,” Lucas said happily, sticking his hand out. Roy shot you an amused look as he leaned in and shook it. “Big fan. I’ve heard a lot about you from this one,” he said, gesturing to you affectionately. 

“Have you now?” Roy said. The sweet way he was talking was all a farce. He was playing nice for your sake, but you had a horrible feeling that he was going to go overboard. 

“Yes. All bad things,” you said, smiling sarcastically. Lucas laughed loudly, and Roy smiled overenthusiastically, like someone at a pantomime performance. It was incredibly off-putting, and made you feel slightly sick. It was probably overlaid from the deep panic you felt in your gut, amongst other things. 

Roy and Lucas parted. As they did, Lucas peered down at you. He took one look at your face– your gaze stuck on Roy bluntly and trying not to scream– and utterly misinterpreted your emotions. “Would you care to join us for a drink?” he asked Roy. 

You sucked in a breath. “Oh, no, he’s–”

“You know what,” Roy cut over you. “I’d love to.”

After a year of knowing him, you knew this was it– this would finally be the time you punched Roy Kent in his fucking face. 

CHAPTER TEN

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[14buddy22]

I’ll Spend The Rest of My Life Making It Up To You Series

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader

Warnings: Domestic Abuse, bruises, blood, broken glass/mirrors, trauma, engagement, marriage, reader does have a child. 

A/n: Long title but idc... Here’s part 1. I’m halfway through student teaching and I begin my elementary placement next week. So who knows when part two will come around, but it will! Comment if you’d like to be tagged in part 2.

WC: 3.8K

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

You were in an abusive relationship. Problem was, you had been in it for 10 years before coming to terms with your abuser. It took one special person to help you. That special person had a significant role in your life before you met your husband, your abuser. What happens after years of not seeing them? What’s going to happen to you? Will you survive the cycle of abuse? Will you get help? Will you get out? Are you strong enough to break the cycle?

It was a hit to the face in front of your son that finally got to be too much. You knew that it was going to be hard to conceal. You didn’t understand it. Why did he constantly have to criticize you to make him feel big? How could he not know that his words hurt? Your body had taken a toll mentally and emotionally, all before it took a toll physically.

How in the hell did you even get yourself into this situation? How could you be in it for 10 years? Why didn’t you leave sooner? Why did it have to get to this point where you finally realized you’d had too much? He always told you he was sorry, he told you he loved you, he just had a bad day at work. The thing was, you were stupid enough to believe it, you always believed it.

You had finally had enough. The mental, emotional, and physical abuse from him was too much. You needed to lead a better life for your son. You didn’t want your son to grow up to know that’s how a man should treat somebody. You were worth so much more. At first, you believed that what your husband would get mad about was your fault, but then over time, the more posts that started showing up on your phone about abusive relationships, you knew that you were in one. You didn’t want to believe it at first, but you did. Slowly over time, you realized that you had to walk on eggshells around him.

You thought that it was normal that he just had triggers that set him off, but then you thought back to the man who once brought you so much joy, the man before your husband, the man who broke your heart. That man that you had loved so much, you never had to walk around eggshells around. The man you could be yourself in front of, the one who loved you for who you were, faults and all.

You tried to get out of your relationship, literally. You got in your car one day to leave, but he tracked you. He called you and asked why you had left the house. He started questioning you because you hadn’t told him that you planned on leaving that day. He had a tracking device placed on the car and would get alerts when you’d leave the house.

He also hated whenever you went out to lunch with friends, especially your guy friends. He hated it. You don’t understand why. Well, you do. It’s because he was nervous you’d let something slip that you were in an abusive relationship. You were too afraid too. You hid the bruises well, that’s why he never hit you on your face either, because you could conceal it everywhere else.

While he went away for another weekend, you decided that you’d had enough. You remember reading about the cycle of abuse from domestic abuse survivors. The cycle of abuse is tough. It’s the hardest thing to break. You want to get help, and you think you’re going to do it, but then he does something so great that you think he’ll change, and then you fall back in love with him.

You had constantly been in that cycle for 10 years. It’s the only love you thought you were ever worthy of, but you are worthy of so much more.

After debating for 2 hours and figuring out a game plan. You packed a suitcase filled with clothes as much as you could fit and started putting stuff into a car. You grabbed your son’s clothes, diapers, wipes, blankets, car seat, and bottles. You threw as much as you could into the suitcase and you finally took one look around your home.

You saw the hole in the wall that your husband’s fist had left when you dodged it. You saw the broken glass still in the corner from before he left. You saw the broken picture frames, the blood-stained carpet that you tell your guests you had accidentally cut yourself and didn’t realize it but it was actually from your husband hitting you so hard you were bleeding from your mouth.

Chills went down your spine. You were attempting to get out. You knew that if you were caught, he would kill you. You needed to get your son somewhere safe. You were done looking around your house, there were no good memories except the one’s you made with your son. You didn’t deserve this abuse anymore. You didn’t know where to go, so you found your way to the FBI. If there’s one person you could trust, the only male you could trust, you were going to him.

It wasn’t long until you pulled into the FBI building parking lot. Your son was in the middle of his nap, but you were just hoping that it wasn’t loud or busy in there. If he did wake up, it wasn’t the end of the world, you needed to get out of this relationship, you needed to do better for your son.

When you made your way into the building, your eyes started to roam around. You were trying to look for him everywhere. You knew he wouldn’t be down here, he always needed an office, but you just were trying to look for comfort, a familiar face.

You explained to the receptionist that you needed to see him. You knew he was the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were proud of him. He always set high standards for himself. He had been through so much, he was a survivor, too, but not many realized that.

When you were escorted into the BAU, you were met with an older man walking by. You learned his name was Dave Rossi and you told him your name and your son’s name.

When he asked if there was anything he could do for you, you just asked politely to see Aaron Hotchner’s office. That really drew everyone in the room to look at you. You don’t know how close these people were but, they were a team, you could only assume they’d been through everything together.

Rossi knocked on Aaron’s door and you heard his voice. You hadn’t heard his voice in 3 years. It sent shivers down your spine. You were really getting help, and you were getting it from the love of your life, the man you always wanted to be with, but weren’t good enough for, you didn’t deserve him.

When you walked in after Rossi opened the door for you, you were met with Aaron writing something in a case file, working hard, and being busy. You began to think how wrong you were to come here. This shouldn’t be Aaron’s problem. Maybe you were just overreacting. But now you needed to come up with an excuse for why you were here.

“Hi, Aaron.”

Aaron’s head shot up from his desk and all it took was one look from Aaron for you to begin to break down. Aaron didn’t know what was going on, so when he looked at Rossi, the door was already being shut to give you two some privacy. You didn’t know what caused you to break down, maybe it was because your lover was here, seeing you at your worst, yet you’re still here.

You placed your son’s car seat carrier on the floor and Aaron wrapped his arms around you. He didn’t know what the hell was happening, but all he knew was that someone he loved deeply, even though he hadn’t kept in touch for the last 3 years was hurting, and you didn’t deserve to feel whatever you were feeling.

As he held you in his arms, he began to look down at your sleeping son, and when he tightened his arms around you, he didn’t miss the way your shirt rose up, leaving your skin bare. When his hands touched your bare skin, you tensed up, and that’s when he saw it. He saw the marks, the fresh ones and those still healing. He began to roll up your sleeves, he didn’t care if he was crossing boundaries, he needed to see that those were real. That the love of his life, the one he let go, had bruises old and new.

His first priority was finding out who did this to you so he could kill the man who was hurting you. He also knew that there was a sleeping baby in his office, who didn’t look more than 6 months old. If the man who was beating you touched what he presumed to be your baby, he would for sure kill the man who did this.

“Who did this to you?”

Aaron was furious. His jaw tightened and his fist clenched with rage. Everything at that moment stopped. He wanted to kill whoever was hurting you. You could see that all in his eyes and in his body language. While you and Aaron broke up, you still remained friends through it all. Well, friends who just hadn’t talked or seen each other in person in 3 years.

You just were afraid to tell him. You weren’t afraid of Aaron. You never were. You were just afraid that he’d see you at your lowest point because you knew he already dealt with so much in his life and your situation would just add more problems to his life.

“Aaron.”

You began to pull away from Aaron as he still was holding your waist. When he let go, he still had no idea what was going on. Well, he knew something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. You had bruises, you tensed up at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin. His best friend, the love of his life, was in an abusive relationship and he didn’t know. He was a really shitty person for it. How could he not recognize that you were in an abusive relationship when you told him you could never meet him out for lunch anymore, or when he finally got one last lunch with you when you hugged him, held him a little tighter, and whispered “goodbye Aaron” after you kissed his cheek.

Aaron would always remember that moment 3 years ago and it killed him that he never knew why you said what you did. However, you here in his office, getting ready to tell him that you were in an abusive relationship only made him feel that much smaller, like such an asshole that he was a profiler and he couldn’t tell you were in an abusive relationship.

“Who did this to you? I will make sure he never sees the light of day again.”

“Aaron, I can’t tell you, he will find me, and he’ll kill me and my son. I can’t go back. I have nowhere to go. I just wanted to come and ask if you had any friends who were lawyers to help me out. I want to sell the house, but I can’t face him again. Is there any way you can help me out? Please, I’ll take you and Jack out for dinner. I’ll watch Jack and give Jessica a break. I’ll do anything, Aaron.”

“Wait. Slow down, slow down. You need to tell me who did this to you. I will help you. Of course, I will, but I need to know who has been hurting you.”

You were about to start crying even more. You weren’t ready to tell Aaron. You were, but you weren’t. All it took was one small cry from your son before you looked at him and were going to lose it. Aaron was profiling you and you hated it.

“I can’t, Aaron. You know I can’t. Aaron, please. I’m in an abusive relationship. I need out. I need the tracker disabled on my car. I need a lawyer who can help me make sure I keep custody of my son, Mason. But you have to understand, it’s better if I don’t say his name, for my sake and for yours.”

You picked Mason up from his car seat and Mason began to look around. When he laid his head back on your chest, you made eye contact with Aaron. He was still trying to make sure that Mason was okay.

“Aaron. You know I can’t say his name.”

“N-no, please tell me that after I broke your heart, this is what happened. This is what you got. You never deserved this. You deserved so much more. You deserved more than I could ever give you. You met someone, you met Jake after me, you were in a relationship with him for 10 years. He beat you Y/n. Please tell me that it’s not Jake who did this to you. Please tell me that it’s not the man I watched you dance with at your wedding while I wished it had been me. Please tell me that Jake didn’t do this to you, that you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time with someone.”

You reached out for his hand. You needed to calm him down, you needed him right now. You didn’t need him to take the blame for this. He couldn’t have known what was going on. You were great at hiding what was going on. That was the plan, to not get caught, to not have people feel sorry for you and try and help you, because you were in that cycle where you believed Jake could do no wrong.

“Aaron, it’s not your fault. I loved him. Well, at some point I did.”

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner? Why didn’t you tell me whenever we’d meet up? Why didn’t I say something? How did I not know?”

“Aaron, listen to me, please. I covered it up. I didn’t want our lunch dates, something that brought me so much joy, to be ruined for me. I wanted those moments to be good things. Something I could hold onto until the next thing happened. You were and had always been the one good thing in my life, Aaron. Now it’s you and Mason. Aaron, this is my son, Mason. He’s 6 months old. I’m asking you to please help us. I’m going to leave this state. I just need help with the car and a lawyer.”

Aaron stepped closer to you and wiped the tears that were falling onto your cheek. He placed his hand on your son’s back and said, “I’m going to get you the help you need. But I’m sure as hell not letting you two out of my sight until Jake’s in prison. You’re staying with me. I’ll get my team to disable the tracking device. I’ll be able to get Penelope to reroute the signal to say that the car’s at home.”

“Aaron, he already knows I left the house. He knows where I am now. I guarantee it.”

“Stay here. I’m getting my team.”

He kissed the side of your head and for once you weren’t tensing up when a man touched you. You followed him out of his office, too afraid to be left alone, even in a secure government building. You and he walked into the conference room with his team and you listened to him explain who you were and your situation, how you needed help.

Being in that room made you feel small and weak. These individuals were all going to help you. You hated that you were going to make their life worse. Whoever was going to try and help was going to be affected by Jake. You knew it would.

Penelope said, “We are going to take care of you, girlie. We will take care of you and your son. I’m already hacking into the tracking system. My chocolate thunder here is going to disable the device on your car once we find it. We will work some magic. You go take that precious baby boy in your arms back into Hotch’s office and we will work our magic.”

Your son started to get fussy and you looked at Aaron. “I know you’re already doing so much, and I hate that I’m bothering you, but is there a microwave where I could warm up his bottle?”

“No, you’re not bothering me. Come on. Guys, I’m going to warm up the bottle and then we’ll be in the office. No one leaves until we make sure they’re safe. Got it?”

The team all shook their heads and gave you a sympathetic look. You and Aaron began to walk out of the round table room and he walked into his office to help you grab your son’s diaper bag.

“I can take it, Aaron. You can just tell me where it is. I’ll feed him in there. You’ll have your office to work.”

“No. Nonsense. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.”

When you began to warm up his bottle, you started to scoop the formula and Aaron said, “I know it’s been a while since Jack was a baby, but can I hold him? I know how hard it is to make a bottle with a wiggly baby.”

“Are you sure?”

Aaron began to take Mason from your arms and your heart melted at the sight of Aaron and Mason. The way he held Mason was a fatherly way that you wish you saw in Jake. Jake never hurt Mason, but you also made sure Jake was never alone with Mason. You didn’t want to think about what would happen if Jake snapped at Mason the way he snapped at you before.

Aaron’s fatherly instincts worked well. Mason was starting to settle down in his arms before he even began to eat. When Mason grabbed for Aaron’s tie, you found yourself smiling.

“I haven’t seen that smile since you and I were together.”

“It’s been a while. Only Mason gets to see this smile. Jake doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re right. He doesn’t. He doesn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve to have you in his life for 10 years, to treat you the way you were treated for the past 10 years.”

When you and Aaron made his way back to his office, he shut the door and you sat on the couch. You began to feed Mason and Aaron pulled out a pad of paper. He sat on the chair next to his couch and you looked at him.

“I have to ask you everything he did. As much as you could tell me. We also need to take pictures of the bruises. We’ll get you to a hospital, to make sure there’s nothing more than bruises, no broken ribs, no healing fractures.”

“I’m not going.”

“Let me help you.”

“I just asked for a lawyer friend. That’s all I need from you. I will be out of here as soon as they-”

“I already lost you two times in my life, I’ll be damned if I lost you a third time. I want to help you and Mason. Please let me help you. I need to know what he did. I’ve already sent a text to one of my colleagues who I went to law school with. He’s pulling all your files now. We’re taking care of it. If we get you to a hospital.”

“Then you’ll see the very worse of what he did to me. You’ll see the healing fractures, you’ll see the scars. I don’t want you to see that, Aaron.”

Aaron looked like he was going to snap his steel pen in half. He was gripping the pen so hard when those words came out of your mouth and then you saw the color drain out of him. He couldn’t believe what you just told him. He knew you were scared, but how could you be scared of him? How could you not want him to know how Jake hurt you?

“I won’t think any less of you. You’re stronger than I could ever be. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

The team was out in the parking lot disabling the tracking device from your car and they all began talking. They saw your car, how you’d thrown random things, well not random, your necessities into the car. They knew that your relationship must have been bad.

Rossi spoke up when he looked in your trunk and found a box of pictures and letters. He saw the bruises, cuts, scars, and marks all over your body that you had taken. He saw the pictures you took of your house, the broken pictures, the broken glass, the mirror.

Penelope said, “I don’t want to see her like that. Are there any happy ones? I mean, I don’t know how she could be happy with him, but is there anything? Maybe there was a trigger in the relationship. At one point she had to have been happy with him. That’s why she went out with him?”

“That’s how the cycle works, Penelope. He was probably good to her at the start. Then as things went on in their relationship, maybe she burnt something she was cooking and he went off on her. Then maybe it was she tripped and he blamed her for tripping over his mess, or maybe it was he squeezed her arm so hard to gain her attention and it left a mark, one of the first marks that he intentionally wanted to leave. But then he’d make it up with something romantic. Just when she’s had her breaking point, maybe considered walking out, he did something nice.”

Penelope’s heart was breaking at the thought of you, someone she didn’t even know was hurting. She wiped her tears as she was trying to rummage through the photos of your deepest, darkest secrets.

“But where does she come into Hotch’s life? When we met him, he was with Haley.”

Rossi found a smaller box. When he opened it up, he found pictures of a younger you and Aaron. He found the ones of you and him kissing.

“I know why she’s here.”

He turned the picture of you and Aaron towards the team and they immediately began to get teary-eyed.

Morgan said, “Hotch was her boyfriend before she got into this relationship.”

The team all looked at each other as Rossi continued to look into the box. Then he saw the flash of something when the sun hit just right. When he moved it to try and find the flash again, it’s when he saw it, taped to a picture.

Rossi pulled out the photo of Aaron kneeling on the ground, holding the ring out to you. The same ring that was taped to that picture.

“More like a fiancè.”

The team looked at him and said, “What?”

Rossi showed them your engagement ring and picture and said, “They were engaged. Hotch was her fiancè.”

Next Part

[spark-my-nature]

Step Into Christmas - DRW

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!

Words: 8.4K

Summary: You spend some holiday quality time with your best friend, giving each other the one thing you both want most of all.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexually explicit content, oral (m&f), unprotected penetrative sex.

“Danny, where do you want these decorations?” You called, detangling tinsel from mistletoe. Every damn year, your curly headed best friend shoved the decorations in a tub, and every year it was left to you to pry them all apart from the giant knot they inevitably tangled into.

His voice carried from the kitchen distractedly, assembling his liquor station for the Christmas shin-dig later, “Wherever you think, Dip, you jazz it up.”

You smirked to yourself at his stupid nickname for you as you answered, “Big mistake, Wagner.” 

A couple of days ago, you’d gotten a little too high and ordered yourselves some ice cream from Uber Eats, and somehow managed to ask for not one, but ten chocolate dip cones. The minute the delivery guy handed over the goods, Danny lost it laughing and he’d been calling you Dip since. 

You poked my head in his closet under the staircase, reaching through the dark and grabbing his step stool, praying no spiders had taken residence between the legs. With a shudder of distaste for the dusty cave-like space, you set the stool down in the doorway between his hallway and the kitchen. You stuck a thumb tack between your teeth and stepped up, holding the mistletoe above your head and centering it. Just as you pushed the pin into the frame, a pair of hands snaked around your waist. 

You let out a quick shriek of surprise, quickly followed by a giggle as Danny’s fingers danced into your ribs. “H-HEY no! Git, go- STOP-“ You wriggled in his grasp, furiously batting his hands away, and he finally had mercy. His hands stilled, but he let them rest on your hips as you both giggled. You hoped the laughter would explain the rosy tint spreading across your cheeks. 

The relationship you had with Daniel was… interesting, to say the least. You’d been friends since middle school, never more. Truth be told, you had the worst crush on him. You had for ages now. Danny never said anything though, and you weren’t about to throw away your best friend for a seemingly tiny chance he might feel the same. You’d been noticing lately, though, his touches that used to be platonic were growing increasingly flirtier as the weeks passed. The night of the ice cream incident, even as touchy as he got when he smoked, he attached himself to your side on the couch and didn’t peel away from you until the next morning when you woke up tangled together, much like the tinsel and mistle you fought to separate. 

Your laughter slowed down but your heart rate picked up, avoiding Danny’s mischevious smile as he still gripped your hips gently. On the stool, you were at eye level with him, and it was an unnerving feeling. You were so used to him leaning his arm on you as he towered over, his chin easily resting on the top of your head when you hugged him. Now, there was a direct line of sight between you, only making you more nervous. 

He jutted his chin out inquisitively, his smirk widening. Bastard. “You alright? Wouldn’t want you to fall.” 

You stepped down from the stool quickly, trying to hide your blush, but he didn’t step back when you moved, forcing you into his chest tightly. You nervously chuckled, pressing your palms into his chest. “I almost did, tickle-monster.” You faintly noted how warm and firm his chest felt under your hands. 

Danny gave you a far-too-knowing grin, and his big brown eyes flicked up to the decoration you’d just placed. He licked his lips, and he eyed your face with a flirtatious twinkle in his eye, then he winked before walking around you down the hall towards the living room. “Nice mistletoe placement, by the way. You hoping for a lil’ lip action?” he called over his shoulder. 

You snorted, flustered as hell, busying yourself with the knot of tinsel. “Yeah, actually. Sammy’s been looking really cute lately, thought I’d make my move.” 

Danny laughed out loud from the living room, making you smile. He knew as well as you did that Sam was like a little brother to you, in all senses. You loved him, and he annoyed the shit out of you. 

“Hey now, that’s my man!” The hum of his ancient stereo system resonated through the area suddenly, followed by the scratch of a needle dropping on a record. 

You giggled as you strung the green fuzzy garland across doorframes and railings. “We’ll have to fight to the death for his love.” 

A familiar funky piano riff sounded from the speakers, and you listened for a second before your brain caught up. Your head tossed back as you laughed, twining the end of the tinsel at the foot of the stairs. You trotted into the living room, making eye contact with Danny, both of you smirking like maniacs at each other as you froze, before erupting into loud singing. 

“Welcome to my Christmas sooooong…” you both shout-sang through laughter. 

Elton John’s Step Into Christmas was your favourite holiday tune in the world, something you bonded with Danny over years ago. It was a running gag at this point, you both sang along as obnoxiously as possible, with the worst exaggerated british accents you could muster. 

You danced over to your friend as you both performed into invisible mics. You giggled as Danny took your hands in his and knelt on one knee before you, looking up at you with drastic, pleading eyes. 

“…By asking youuu if you’d obliiige,” he crooned, slowly rising up to eye level as he sang the next line, “Stepping into christmas… with meeeeee!” You both mimicked Elton’s little piano riff before the chorus, meeting each other’s eyes with manic joy. 

“Step into Christmas, let’s join together, weeee can watch the snow fall forEVER AND EVER…” The pair of you were more shouting than singing at this point. Your laughter choked out your voice as Danny bent your wrists up to hold your hands palm to palm, lacing your fingers together, before pushing and pulling your arms playfully, dancing with you. 

You jumped around for a while, letting Danny spin you a few times, still laughing more than singing, even stepping up on the coffee table to really sell the performance. When the song faded out, you were more out of breath than you’d like to admit, collapsing beside your best friend on the couch in high-pitched giggles. 

For a few moments, you sat in comfortable silence, catching your breath. Danny sat up then, “Oh, just a sec, I’ve got something for you.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Daniel! We said no presents!” You watched him grab a small wrapped rectangle from his small cluster of presents near the tree. 

He flopped back beside you and grinned shyly. “Yeah, well, I actually had this made for you before we agreed that, so it doesn’t count.” 

You giggled, “Your logic is a bit flawed, but I’ll let it slide cause you’re so sweet.” You delighted in his blush, and he handed you the little wrapped box. You smiled crookedly, taking it and gently peeling the paper off. 

Danny rolled his eyes, “Just rip it for fuck’s sake.” 

You stuck your tongue out, continuing to carefully pry the folded corners of the paper. You slid the small box from the paper, trying not to show how secretly nervous you were. You hoped it wasn’t something too nice.

You opened the box, and inside was a dainty gold bracelet, decorated with your birthstone, the small gems delicately set evenly around it. Your jaw fell open, and you felt the air leave your lungs. 

“Danny…” you breathed, fighting the familiar pressure of tears. It was so gorgeous, so deeply personal and sweet of him. The nicest present you’d ever received. 

You blinked up at him after a moment, and he was watching your face shyly, chewing on his lip. “You like it?” he asked softly. 

You simply nodded, cocking your head as you smiled lovingly at him. “Danny I love it, its so beautiful.” He blushed, shrugging shyly. “Well, then it should be worn by a beautiful girl,” he quietly said, looking up at you. 

Your heart fluttered, and you giggled shyly. “Oh hush.” 

He smiled, and he leaned back, picking up the bracelet out of the box. He held both ends and draped it around your wrist, fastening it gently. You pushed down the butterflies that errupted from his gentle touch. 

“There,” he grinned, “perfect.” 

You held your wrist to your heart, leaning back into the couch beside him. “You didn’t have to do this, Dan.” 

He chuckled, “I wanted to. You deserve nice things. I like treating you,” he confessed. You blushed, looking up at the ceiling happily, toying with the beautiful present around your wrist. 

Then out of the corner of your eye, Danny’s head rolled over to look at you. You met his eyes, biting your lip as you smiled at him. He grinned lopsidedly, reaching his hand up to smooth your wild hair. His hand traced down the side of your head, coming to rest on your cheek. You were breathless all over again, unconsciously leaning into his palm. 

His eyes were warm, trailing all over your face with a peculiar smile. Almost curious, certainly affectionate. His thumb brushed across your cheekbone. Feeling suddenly very exposed, you swallowed and leaned back enough to make his hand drop away. You stood up, feeling Danny’s gaze follow you as you walked back down the hallway. “You want a drink?” 

You hoped Danny didn’t notice the shake in your voice. You didn’t see his eyes roll affectionately after you dodged his flirtatious actions. “Peppermint shots?” He called, standing up to follow you. 

At the counter, you grabbed the bottle of seasonal Smirnoff, cracking open the twist cap and grabbing the shot glasses from his cabinet. When he sidled up beside you, you handed him one of the glasses, pouring for both of you with a shake of your head. “This is gonna taste like mouthwash,” you giggled. Danny snickered, examining the shot at eye level. “Probably,” he agreed.

He winked at you, slipping his arm carefully around yours. His heart warmed at the dainty bracelet adorning your wrist, and you both downed the shots with intertwined arms. Your expressions matched comically, cringing at the god-awful vodka. You coughed a little, and Danny laughed through the pain, clapping you on the back a few times. You appreciated the gesture, though his touch definitely made it worse. You set the glass in the sink and shook your head. 

“Ew,” you said plainly. He laughed, “That’s an understatement.”

🎄

The minute the Kiszka’s arrived, the night’s festivities took on their usual level of chaos and inebriation. The music was blasting, making you grateful for the distance between Danny’s place and the neighbors. Drinks were downed, and shenanigans were underway. At some point, Sam tried to bang out some tunes on Danny’s upright piano, missing more keys than he hit in his stupor. Jake and Josh did a lovely rendition of some Queen song that neither of them could remember most of the words to, meaning they made most of them up. With lyrics that were not fit for civilized company. Danny and yourself, though equally buzzed, were the most reserved. In your participation, anyway. There was nothing reserved about Danny’s gaze on you all night. Every time you glanced over at him, his eyes were already devouring you. Amidst the drunken sing-along the brother’s spontaneously burst into, you’d dipped into the kitchen for a breather. 

“Get lost, Dip?” 

You gasped, startling at Danny’s unexpected voice right behind you. Turning your back to the counter you were leaning on, you met his gaze shyly. “Just needed… uh- needed a quick break,” you nervously chuckled, nodding towards the living room.

Danny smirked, stepping closer. You stepped back, your lower back meeting the counter. Your hands rested on the counter at your sides, and your breathing hitched as Danny took another step closer. “A break from them?” He cocked his head, his eyes falling down your body, shamelessly trailing them back up slowly. “Or a break from me?” His eyes met yours, something unreadable in his gaze. 

You chuckled again, your eyes darting sideways nervously. “What- why would I need a break from you?” You feigned indifference, your hitching breath giving you away as he stepped closer still into your space. 

Danny’s teasing smirk was sinful, his dark eyes drinking in your flustered state. “You tell me.” His body leaned forward, catching his weight on his hands as they planted on the counter at either side of you. His body caged you in, his broad chest and muscular arms trapping you in place. So much for escaping the tension. 

Your eyes flickered between his, and before you could register enough to prevent it, they dipped down to his lips and back. Your heart thudded as you realized, and Danny’s smirk grew wider. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurted, ducking under his strong arm and practically running to said room. You didn’t dare turn to look at Danny before you clicked the door shut, locking it behind you. You faintly heard Josh and Sam bickering over lyrics as Jake continued to make up words to the song playing. None of it registered, though, and you heaved a sigh as you looked in the mirror. Your cheeks were pink, and you knew you hadn’t drunk enough to warrant it. You ran a hand over your forehead, mind racing. 

What was that? Did he… was he going to make a move? Did he want to kiss you? You hoped so, but you also ran away. Why did you run away? As terrified as you were in the kitchen, now you were even more scared that Danny would get the wrong idea. You didn’t want him to stop whatever this was. His flirting was making a mess out of you, sure, but you were lying if you said you didn’t love it. You thought back over the last few days, smiling absently to yourself as you remembered similarly charged moments. 

You were broken out of your thoughts by a body thudding into the door, startling you. A muffled grunt and more distant laughter told you one of the boys had walked right into the closed door, and you giggled as you opened it. Jake stumbled in, shaking off the collision and giving you a crooked smile and a salute. You patted the top of his head as you slipped out past him, letting him use the bathroom. “All yours, Jakey.” 

“Thanks, love,” he slurred in his Oliver voice. 

 The hour hand on the clock returned to single digits before the boys called it a night, Jake’s girlfriend picking them up on her way home from her parents. The silence was jarring in the aftermath of the evening, but the quiet was the least of your concerns. After your rendez-vous with Daniel in the kitchen, he certainly didn’t seem put-off as you’d feared. If anything, he doubled down on the flirting. The rest of the night was full of hungry eyes, lingering touches, and delicious tension. After your self pep-talk in the bathroom, you forced yourself to return the attention. If he was going to play this game, then you were too. You were never inclined to let him get the best of you before. If this was a challenge, then challenge accepted. 

When he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, you pressed your hand against his chest. If he whispered a joke in your ear, you were sure you bite your lip and giggle flirtatiously as possible. You made sure he caught you staring at him just as heatedly as he’d done to you. You were sure the boys hadn’t picked up your little game, but by the end of the night you could cut the tension with a knife. Danny seemed to pick up on your shift in attitude, and he lapped up your attention. It was adorably cute the way he puffed up with pride when you returned his PDA. 

You leaned against the doorframe of the hallway watching Danny shut the door behind Jake as his girlfriend steered him drunkenly into her backseat with a muttered thanks. Danny nodded with a smile, exchanging goodnights before letting the door click shut. He turned and leaned his back against the door. His eyes rested on the floor for a moment, looking thoughtful, then locking eyes with you as his hand slid up to twist the deadbolt closed. 

“Well this was a fun night,” you appraised softly, holding eye contact. Danny’s eyes quickly scanned your body, landing once more on your face. 

His voice was buttery and deep as he replied, “It was, wasn’t it.”

He pushed off the door, slowly making his way towards you, his eyes on the floor, a small smirk tipping up the corners of his mouth. He stuck his thumbs in his jeans pockets, his shirt unbuttoned halfway at some point through the night, teasing you with glimpses of his chest. You drank him in, blushing when he paused a few steps in front of you and lifting his eyes to catch you staring. 

You were expecting a teasing remark. You were not expecting him to quickly step forward and push you against the doorframe. 

You gasped, blinking up at his face, his soft curls falling gently over his face. He towered over you, always did with your short stature. So close, he was so close to you, his warmth was threatening to melt you without even touching you. He gently lifted a hand to curl one callused finger under your chin, tilting up your face. He smirked once more, looking infuriatingly cocky as you blushed and held your breath. Confidence suited him deliciously.

“Danny…” you breathed. He leaned closer, “Hm?” Arrogant little shit. 

He then caught your eye, and glanced upwards, nodding for you to look. Following his gaze, you spotted it. The fucking mistletoe you’d hung there this afternoon. It felt like a month ago to you now, and you cursed your past self as your eyes fell back to Danny’s. 

His smirk shifted into a more bashful smile, and he searched your face for any sign of reluctance. “I’m not reading this all wrong, am I?” he whispered, his breath fanning against your face with his proximity. 

His request for assurance gave you a boost of confidence, and you felt your lips quirking up in a playful smile. You gave him a challenging look, shrugging one shoulder. “You tell me,” you echoed his earlier words. Before he could process, you ducked quickly and took off towards the stairs with a giggle. He let out a surprised burst of laughter, and then he was hot on your heels. “Get back here, Y/N,” he growled playfully. You let out a manic little shriek of laughter, dodging the swipe of his hand as you climbed the stairs. “Make me,” you giggled.

You rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, seeing Danny getting closer behind you, and in your panic you giggled and ran down the upstairs hallway. You didn’t realize your mistake until you were already in the room at the end of the hall. The room that happened to be Danny’s bedroom. 

Shit. 

You whipped back around to face him, and he had the most shit eating smirk across his face. He crossed his arms over his chest smugly, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from dipping down to watch his forearms bulge. You inhaled shakily, and Danny’s smirk only got cockier. 

“Danny…” you breathlessly giggled, nerves coloring your tone, “we can talk about this.”

The smug fucker bit his lip, pushing off the door frame and shifting his weight, examining you. He took a step closer, straightening out to his full height. 

“I don’t think I want to talk,” he practically purred, his voice smooth and deep in his chest. With each step he took forwards, you took one backwards, the spark between you threatening to catch any second. You held eye contact until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, when everything suddenly moved in superspeed. You stumbled, beginning to fall back, and Danny swooped forward. When your eyes blinked open, you were pressed on your back against his soft comforter, and your best friend’s arms supported his weight on either side of your head. You were caged in, and Danny was on top of you. He quickly crawled over your body, straddling your hips as he balanced on his knees. 

Then you were letting out short shrieks of laughter as his fingers relentlessly danced into your ribcage. “Sweet revenge,” he cackled, mercilessly tickling you without pause as you helplessly thrashed beneath him. 

“DANNY PLEASE- I’m begging youuuu!” you squealed. His eyes lit up, “I like the sound of that. Go on, beg me,” he goaded, moving his hands to your tummy, your ultimate weakness. Your laughter was silent now with a tear streaking down your cheek. You mouthed, “please, please please please stop-“ 

His smirk reappeared, flooding the space between your legs with warmth, as his fingers stilled against your sides and his warm breath still smelling of the hot chocolate with Baileys from earlier puffed gently near your face.

You grinned shyly as you panted, blushing as you met his flirtatious gaze. “Hi,” you giggled quietly, drinking in his beauty up close, his curls falling from behind his ear to tickle your cheek. He leaned down even closer, his lips millimeters from yours as he breathed, “Hey.” 

You heard his breathing falter, and drawing out the delicious tension even farther, you lifted your hips off the mattress and ground gently against his. He let out the sweetest little soft moan, those long dark eyelashes fluttering and his lips curling up in surprise. 

“Tease,” he softly joked, closing the distance. His lips pressed down into yours in the sweetest kiss you’d ever had. Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back eagerly, his lips warm and insistent against yours. Your heart pounded as your hands slipped up to hold both sides of his face, soft and so real under your touch. He sighed quietly, tilting his head more to deepen the kiss, your hands slipping into his curls as he parted his lips. Your tongues met in a gentle, brief swipe. 

You moaned, and Danny’s hands slid up your sides slowly, hesitantly smoothing over your chest and delicately cupping your neck. Your nipples hardened under your shirt at his brief touch, and as you whimpered needily as Danny pulled away slowly. 

His dark lashes fluttered open, meeting your eyes with his mossy warm ones. You gave him a shy smile, which he adorably returned, for the first time a light blush colouring his cheeks. “God, your smile,” he whispered. 

Your stomach erupted with butterflies as your eyes took in every detail of his face. “Your everything,” you whispered back. Danny smiled brightly, his perfect nose crinkling endearingly. “What, you think I’m cute or something?” he teased as he continued to examine your face. 

You blushed. “Danny,” you groaned, giggling. His smile widened further, as he pried your hands off your face. “Oh you DO, don’t you,” he sang, leaning down again and rubbing that nose you admired all the time against yours playfully. “You’ve got a crush on me.” 

You smiled wide, quickly ducking your head up and kissing his nose. 

“Of course I do,” you said quietly, looking down shyly. “How could I not.”

Then his lips pecked yours, making you glance up at him again, another wave of butterflies taking over as he flashed that blinding smile. “You’re stunning, baby,” he said softly. 

You poked his cheek gently, smiling, falling back to teasing  “Baby, huh? I like that better than Dip,” you giggled. He nodded, giving you a heartstoppingly warm smile. 

He grunted softly, leaning up on his haunches, stretching out of the uncomfortable position. You giggled, “Relax, grampa.” Danny shot you a playful glare, and you batted your eyelashes innocently. 

His smirk turned a shade darker. Without a word, he easily pushed the palm of his hand between your breasts and shoved you down flat against the bed. You gasped at his strength, the effortlessness of his action getting you flustered again. 

He came down on his elbow beside you, leaning slightly over your body. “What was that?” he feigned ignorance, teasing you. 

You ignored his teasing, simply gazing up at the boy above you, slightly breathless. “Kiss me again.”

Danny’s eyes met yours, the humor dropping from his smile, but stretching equally as wide. He cupped your cheek gently, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Gladly,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to yours softly, but it was torturously brief. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back to you quickly, and he chuckled against your lips, pulling away again. “What’s the matter?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m trying to make out with you and you won’t let me,” you pouted. 

He giggled at your whiny tone, running his finger down the tip of your nose. “You’re cute when you’re needy.”

Shooting him a faux glare, you retorted, “and you’re a tease!” 

He cocked his head, looking far too pleased with himself. “A tease? How am I teasing you, baby?” he questioned, and his hand cascaded down your side as he spoke. You hoped he didn’t feel you shiver under his touch. 

Suddenly a bit breathless, you struggled to hold his gaze. “You’re- you keep…” You trailed off as his hand slid lower, grabbing a fistful of your ass, his eyes darkening. Your eyes darted back and forth between his, and you breathed, “don’t look at me like that.” 

He nudged your nose with his, brushing your lips featherlight over yours. “Like what?” 

“Like you want to fuck me.” 

You watched his eyes squeeze shut, and his jaw clenched under your gentle hold. When they met yours again, his pupils took up most of his eyes, nearly black. 

He whispered against your lips, “and what if I do?”

You whimpered quietly, lacing your hand into his soft curls, trying to pull him closer. “Then we’d have one more thing in common.” Your breathing shook slightly at your admission, hoping he’d just hurry up and do it. 

Danny nipped your bottom lip gently, still not giving in and kissing you. He tried to suppress the nerves that laced his deep rumble. “You…” he swallowed, “you want me to fuck you?” 

Your breath hitched, not expecting it to be that hot coming out of his mouth. “Danny please.” 

Finally his lips crashed into yours, needy hot kisses overtaking your senses. He moaned softly into the kiss, his hand on your ass kneading and gripping. His other hand snaked under your neck to wrap around your shoulders, rolling you on top of him before you could blink. You quickly straddled his waist, whimpering softly and slipping your tongue into his mouth to taste him again. You lowered your hips, grinding gently into his steadily hardening erection, both of you letting out shaky moans into the kiss. You mumbled against his mouth, “Fuck Danny, you didn’t tell me you were so big,” you accented with another, firmer grind. 

He gripped your hips tightly, gritting his teeth. “Christ,” he hissed, “Not something you mention to your best friend,” he smirked. 

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to run your hands down his hot chest, pulling up the hem of his shirt. “I wanna be so much more than friends, baby.” 

Danny tensed slightly, and you quickly looked up from your hands, eyes widening as your words sunk in. You held your breath, waiting for his reaction. 

He searched your face, quietly confirming, “You mean that?” 

You blushed, but shyly nodded, toying with his shirt. 

Danny’s lips turned up in the corners, “You wanna be my girlfriend?” he asked gently. 

You bit your lip, fighting a wide smile and failing. “Of fucking course, boyfriend,” you giggled softly. 

His smile doubled, and he grabbed you by the neck, pulling you down for an excited kiss. You both smiled like idiots as you kissed over and over, excitement soon turning into neediness. 

Your hands migrated under his t shirt, and you smoothed your palms up across his chest. Thumbs swiping over his tight nipples, you took his soft gasp as your cue to start kissing down the sharp jawline you loved so much. 

You tugged gently on his earlobe with your teeth, and his grip on your hips moved up under your shirt, caressing your sides. “Shit,” he whispered breathily, giving your middle a gentle squeeze, as though reassuring himself that he wasn’t dreaming. The thought made you smile as you worked down his gorgeous neck. His quick inhale let you know you’d found a good spot, and you sucked lightly, nipping at the skin where his neck met his collarbones. The most delectable whimper resonated under your hands, and you moaned softly at his response. 

“Fuck, Danny, you’re so hot,” you whined, lips still pressed to his neck. He muffled a groan, tucking his lip under his teeth. You stuck your tongue out, flattening it and licking the sensitive skin before kissing a trail back up. His hands roamed as you explored his neck, first caressing your hips and ribcage, then slowly getting braver and slipping his fingers under the band of your bra. You smirked against his cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth before pulling back. He looked adorably flustered, blinking up at you with his brows furrowed. You toyed with the hem of your shirt, seated over his firm bulge. 

He swallowed, gently pushing your hands away. “Let me… can I take this off?” he asked.

Nodding with a warm smile, your vision was briefly obscured as he lifted your top up over your head. You relished in the way his breath hitched. 

“Fuck me,” he breathed, his large hands coming up to cup and tentatively squeeze your breasts through your bralette. 

You sighed at his touch, watching his reaction to you. It suddenly occurred to you that this was really, finally happening, and though slightly nervous, you were primarily just relieved and excited. You bit your lip, catching his eye, and you shared a shy smile, a wordless check-in. You didn’t need to verbalize it, you knew he was feeling the same way. 

Your boyfriend.

You reached behind you and quickly unhooked your bra clasp, letting it fall away before his heated eyes. A small, choked whimper left his lips and his hands returned to your now bare breasts, squeezing with a little more confidence, even swiping those callused thumbs over your nipples, eliciting a shiver. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, looking like his heart was about to stop. You bit back a laugh, leaning forward, his hands pressing more firmly into your chest. His eyes followed his hands through the angle change, pressing them together momentarily, then tugging and twisting ever so gently at your nipples. You let out a slightly too loud moan, but Danny was only fueled by it. He leaned up, honestly an impressive show of core strength, flicking his tongue up over your nipple and sucking into his perfect lips. Only then did his eyes dart up to yours, looking you in the eye as he sucked at your breast. 

So much for composure. 

Your head tossed back and you whined, lacing your fingers into his curls. “Yesss, Danny fuck,” you ground into him once more, anything to get relief from the ache between your legs. His erection hit that perfect spot, your eyes fluttering shut. 

He pulled back with a wet kiss, laying back and lifting his arms as you tore his shirt over his head. You immediately leaned down, kissing over his pecs as your hands ran down his soft, muscular tummy. You smiled mischeviously as your thumbs brushed that delicious dark trail of hair under his belly button, remembering all the sweet little fantasies that tortured you at night. Til now, anyway. 

You lifted your head, tracing one finger down that trail. Danny bit his lip, watching your finger slip lower, dipping under the button of his jeans. You popped it open before meeting his gaze questioningly, with a quirk of your eyebrow. He shot you a cheeky smile, reaching down to tug his zipper down. 

You grinned, “Oh, eager are we?” 

He chuckled, gently placing your hand back in place over his lower abdomen. “Babe, I’ve been fantasizing about this for ages, I’m amazed I have this much self control.” His chest rumbled with the lustful depth of his voice, sending a wave of arousal southward. 

“You fantasized about me?” Your question was accompanied by a teasingly light caress of his bulge over his black boxers. Danny swallowed harshly, nodding. “Yeah, did you?” 

“God, yes.”

He smirked at your answer, his abs tightening from his inability to buck his hips into you. “What did you think about?” 

You blushed, despite straddling his thighs with your tits out, and smiled. “You tell me first,” you giggled. 

He smiled, laying his head back into the pillow, looking at the ceiling. His cheeks coloured pink, and he chuckled. “I imagined pretty much everything with you, Dip.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname, but ignored it. “What exactly, baby, cmon, details.” You teased your finger absently down the length of his prominent bulge, barely hard enough for him to feel it, but he twitched under you nonetheless. 

He swallowed a whimper, still looking at the ceiling, not at you. “I… um…” 

You scooched down the bed some, slowly making your way between his denim clad thighs. You rested your hands on them, squeezing the muscle. “If you tell me, I’ll do it,” you cooed teasingly. His jaw clenched above you, and you smiled. 

“Your mouth,” he strained, “sucking me.” He looked down at you finally, and his eyes were two shades darker. Your breath hitched, from both his words and the feral look on his face. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” you whispered. He bit his lip hard, his eyes dipping slightly down from your eyes to his straining cock, still half contained in his jeans. You followed his gaze, running your hands up his thighs, brushing over him and tugging his jeans down. His hips lifted off the bed to help you wiggle the tight denim off. You tossed them behind you and kissed his thigh. You palmed over his length and whimpered softly at the size of him.

“Fuck Danny, I’ve never sucked a dick this big before,” you whined hungrily, squeezing him. He was girthy too, and so warm. Danny groaned, his jaw hanging open slightly, and you couldn’t help it. You’d wanted to tease him, but you needed to taste him too badly. You tugged his boxers down his hips, and watched as his length was slowly unveiled like a delicious christmas present, inch by inch uncovered until his cock bobbed freely. 

He watched your face with a smug, yet bashful smile. “You know, you’re fucking torturing me.” You hummed questioningly, feigning innocence. “So close, and that innocent look on your face,” he continued lowly. You looked up, smirking and leaning down closer. 

You spoke close enough to him that he could feel your breath against him, “Poor baby, you want this pretty cock sucked?” 

His jaw dropped, and he groaned quietly, nodding. “Please,” he breathed.

Leaning down, you let your lips graze his velvety tip, “God, I can’t wait to taste you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss against his head. 

He whimpered, “Please, please, fuck I- OHHhh-“ his voice cut off into a low moan as you brought his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him slowly before sucking gently. Your hand wrapped firmly around the base of him, giving him a few gentle strokes. 

You hummed into him, your eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste of his precum. He tasted as delicious as he looked, curls a wild mane around his head as he succumbed to pleasure. His chest rose and fell rapidly, not from exertion, but lust. “Oh my god, yes, fuck, ohhh,” he mindlessly praised, his hand coming to hold your hair away for you. Your eyes crinkled in a smile around him, and you flicked your tongue gently over his frenulum. Danny choked out a slurred plea, “Fuck, ohh, mmm, god yes,” his hand in your hair tugging gently as his fist clenched. “Fucking suck me,” he growled.

You moaned into him, happily obliging, taking as much of him as you could into your mouth. You suctioned tightly, steadily bobbing your head. Danny’s head tossed back, and his hips jutted slightly into your mouth, nearly gagging you before he caught himself. You pulled off him for a gasp of air, and quickly jerked his length as you caught your breath.

He leaned up on his free elbow, watching you in awe, his lips parted in pleasure. “Holy shit,” he panted. 

You gave him a bashful smile, “Good?” You didn’t wait for his answer to duck back down and suck on his tip, your hand still pumping him. He groaned, his eyes losing focus, “So fucking good, feels so good baby.” 

Your eyelids drooped in lust at his words of praise. You never knew how much you’d get off on his pleasure, but you’d never been so horny in your life than hearing him losing his composure. 

Before you could react, he was pulling you off him, a lewd wet noise echoing as he slipped out from your lips. He shuddered, pulling you up alongside him. His large, rough hands cupped your face as he kissed you furiously, earning a hungry moan and your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders. He took the chance to roll you onto your back, and he swung his leg over in between yours as the makeout continued. Your eyes rolled back under your closed lids, feeling him poking your stomach, the muscle in his shoulders and back flexing. You momentarily admired your new boyfriend’s strength and masculinity. He sloppily but enthusiastically trailed open-mouthed kisses down your neck, and you once more treated yourself to a fistful of his silky soft curls. “Fuck, baby, want you so bad,” you whined, arching your neck into his mouth. 

He chuckled darkly, sinking his teeth gently into your shoulder before licking over the spot. “So fucking hot,” he growled into your collarbone, scooching lower to squeeze your breasts and suck your nipple between his lips, popping them as he glanced up at you darkly, “what do you want, now?” His smirk was gonna be the death of you.

You tried to gently push his head lower, but he raised up off your body, “ah ah ah, use that sweet little voice and tell me what you need.” 

You shut your eyes, stifling any embarrassment in favor of losing yourself in the moment. “Want you to play with my pussy, want your mouth all over me,” you blurted softly. 

Danny’s jaw clenched, despite the dark smirk overtaking his face. “Good fucking girl.”

He hastily popped open your pants, tugging them down past your knees, and pulling your knees apart with his hands roughly, leaving only your visibly damp panties between his hungry eyes and your aching core. He huffed a desperate sigh out of his nose, biting his lip hard as his brows knit. “Fuck, baby,” he slid his right hand from your knee down your inner thigh, watching his own hand rest at the crease of your thigh, and he extended his thumb to brush lightly over the little damp patch of fabric. 

You were clenching around nothing, watching him hovering above you torturously, taking his sweet time teasing you. “Touch me, Danny,” you whined. 

He pushed his thumb against your clit with more pressure, smirking up at your face as you gasped. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you, sweet girl?” 

You nodded, bucking against his thumb for more friction, but he quickly withdrew his hand. “Dannyyyy,” you huffed, causing him to actually chuckle at your frustration. He stood up from the bed, his throbbing cock bobbing tantalizingly as he leaned over you, kissing you far too sweetly for the moment. “Need to grab something,” he murmured against your lips, pecking them again and shooting you a wink as he turned and walked out. You took the opportunity to ogle his perfect ass as he left, biting your lip. Bastard. 

He quickly returned with his hands behind his back and a smirk on his face. 

You eyed him suspiciously, unable to contain the crooked smile. “Whatcha got there?” 

He shrugged, walking over to the bed and crawling over you once more, both of you sharing giddy smiles as he crawled up to kiss you again. You felt his arm move above your head, and you reluctantly pulled back, glancing above your head and dissolving into giggles. 

He gave you the goofiest grin, and he was holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads. “What, it’s christmas,” he giggled. 

You shook your head, affectionately cupping his cheeks as you laughed. “You are unfairly adorable, y’know that?” 

He shrugged coquettishly. “Glad you think so,” he playfully replied. “Now, where was I…” he pretended to think, then narrowed his focus back to your eyes. “Oh right, unwrapping my christmas present.” He winked, and you giggled, blushing. 

He crawled down your body, kissing down your chest and tummy, and your giggles quickly morphed into sighs and whimpers as he teased along the waistband of your panties. His teeth picked up the band, letting it snap against your skin. 

You couldn’t resist. “Have you been a good boy, Danny?” 

He smirked up at you through his lashes. He pressed that gorgeous strong nose against your covered clit and kissed the damp patch. “I’m feeling pretty naughty right now, baby girl.” His tongue poked out, licking at it lightly. You whimpered, bringing your hands up to cup your breasts. 

He kissed your clit again, then hooked his fingers into the waistband. “Do I still get my present?” he teased, voice rumbling deeply. 

You swallowed your moan, “Being nice is overrated anyway.” 

With your nod, he slipped your underwear down your legs, smoothing his hands down your thighs as he did. Once they were off your ankles, he slowly laid flat on his stomach between your legs, looking up at you smugly. 

You held eye contact with him, feeling faint with desire as his lips drew nearer to your slit. 

Then, the mistletoe reappeared as he dangled it in front of his face, right above your core, and he shot you a far-too-smug wink, leaning down and kissing both of your soft pussy lips slowly. 

You shivered, whimpering as you leaned up to watch him. His eyes were now glued to your lower half, and he dropped the sprig of fake mistletoe, holding his weight on one elbow and bringing his free hand up. He dipped between your lips with his thumb, spreading you open with your glistening juices, and gliding the digit up to circle your clit torturously slow. His eyes were black with desire, his jaw hanging slightly open. 

He lowered his head, spreading you open with his fingers and planting a gentle kiss to your clit. You gasped, and anticipating your reaction, he held your hips down before you could buck your hips. “You gonna be a good girl?” he growled. 

You nodded quickly, biting your lip hard. He smirked, “Yeah? Gonna let Daddy taste you?” he leaned down again, holding eye contact as his pink tongue poked out, barely flicking against your clit.

You threw your head back with a whine. “Please, fuck, I need you.” 

He exhaled slowly against your slit, “You have no idea,” he breathed, finally flatting his tongue and lapping against your clit languidly. 

Your moan was embarrassingly loud, but you didn’t even notice. The edging and anticipation had you incredibly sensitive, and his tongue made fireworks go off behind your closed lids. “Danny-“ you gasped, his lips sucking your clit into his mouth, rhythmically sucking and licking, “AH- Yes, shit…” 

He hummed in satisfaction, continuing to tongue at your clit, his free hand slipping between your legs beneath his chin. He paused for just long enough to ask, “Fingers?”

You whimpered, “Yes, fuck, please Danny.” 

He slid one long rough digit smoothly inside, returning to lap at your clit lazily as his finger began pumping in and out. He groaned roughly into you, delicious vibrations lighting up your nerves. You moaned, bucking against his face, his nose brushing your clitoral hood. You could feel him breathing through his nose, his shaky but steady breaths proving the depth of his focus on your pleasure. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth again, holding it there with gentle suction as he withdrew his finger, adding a second as he slipped back in. You cried out, unable to resist gripping his hair tightly. Calling his name desperately, you felt your orgasm growing, spurred on by his wet enthusiastic oral skills and the perfect curl of his fingers massaging your G spot. 

“D-Don’t fucking stop- oh god, please,” you babbled, so fucking close, humping his face at this point. Danny flattened his tongue, letting you use him to ride out your high as he fucked you with his fingers. You felt movement, and glancing down, you saw him grinding his hips against the bedspread. He moaned into you, and the feral sounding noise combined with the sight of him fucking into the bed as he ate you out sent you hurtling over the edge. 

You hoarsely cried out his name, whimpers and moans and swears filling the room as your hips ground into his face greedily. Your thighs clenched around his face through your high, and he groaned hoarsely. Danny’s tongue slowed, his fingers withdrawing as you began to twitch and jolt from overstimulation. He panted, his eyes fluttering shut as he caught his breath. You looked down at him breathlessly, licking your lips. 

After a moment he refocused on you, offering a small smile. “That was so fucking sexy,” he chuckled. 

You blushed, smiling and admiring him. “…You’re a God,” you giggled. Now it was his time to blush, grinning up at you bashfully. 

He lifted himself up on all fours, making his way up your body. “You certainly seem to think so, the way you were calling my name,” he mumbled smugly. You rolled your eyes playfully.

His lips on yours erased any chance of a witty reply, though. He sucked and nibbled at your bottom lip, kissing you deeply. You felt him leaning some of his warm weight on your body, and you hitched your leg up on his hip. As his weight shifted, his achingly hard length slipped from your thigh to rest along your slit. He gasped shakily against your lips at the sensation, and you chased his lips, hungrily kissing him. “Don’t make me wait any longer baby,” you whispered, lifting your hips to let his cock slip easily through your folds. 

He grunted softly, “You want me to fuck you? Huh?” he goaded raspily. 

You nodded quickly with a whimper, making eye contact as he lifted his head. “Danny please, need you baby.” 

His brows furrowed tightly. “Jesus,” he breathed. “Gonna make you cum so hard, wanna make you feel so good.” Your soaked slit coated him as he steadily slipped back and forth through it, wet noises echoing lewdly. 

Finally, he slipped a little lower, his tip catching on your entrance and with a slow push of his hips, he sheathed himself inside you inch by glorious inch. 

Your eyes rolled back, “Oh fuck, Danny…” 

He groaned, mumbling under his breath. “So fucking tight, so perfect, take me so well.” 

You lifted your hips to meet his, both of you working together to meet a steady fluid rhythm. His hips, ever steady like the drummer he was, effortlessly catching on that sweet spot inside. You lost yourself in the unbelievable feeling, wrapping your legs around his hips and your arms around his shoulders. He leaned downwards, capturing your lips in a furiously passionate kiss, ramping up the intensity of his thrusts. You cried out pathetically, your tongue wrestling with his. 

“So fucking good for me,” he panted, his hands moving to grip your hips. He roughly pulled you down, slamming into you harder. The slapping of skin and moans filled the quiet room, both of you far too lost in ecstasy to fully notice. 

Danny’s hand migrated inwards, his thumb finding your clit and circling it, rubbing in time with his hips. You instantly felt yourself growing hotter and clenching around him, making him cry out and fuck into you faster. “Fuck baby, I’m so close, you gonna be good and cum for me?” His desperate, rough voice pushing you even closer. 

You nodded weakly, your brows tipping up in the center of your forehead as you whined, “Yessss, Danny please, so close, make me cum…” 

His thumb circled you faster, his hips beginning to falter in their thrusts. “Oh- ah, fuck-“ he gasped, his cock twitching inside you, and you felt yourself shoved over the edge. 

You barely registered it, but you screamed his name, scratching your nails mercilessly down his strong back as he fucked you both through it. His warm release pooled inside you, making you see stars. “Yes, yesyesyesyes,” you moaned incoherently.

Danny’s jaw hung loosely, his eyes glued to you as you came down, the most awe-inspiring thing he’d ever witnessed. He slowed his thrusts, wincing slightly as he gently pulled out of you. You let out a soft, fucked-out whine under your breath, and he smiled brightly through the post sex fatigue. He laid beside you, his arm under your neck pulling you by your shoulders to curl into his side. 

You nuzzled your head into his neck with a satisfied hum, a lazy smile breaking out on your face. Your fingers splayed across his chest, drawing lazy shapes on his skin as you caught your breath. He was the first to break the contented silence. 

“Best. Christmas. Ever.” 

[lilflowerpot]

I’m so happy that you share my headcanon of Keith having a crush on James because honestly there was so much unresolved tension between them.

Also, can you please open your fruitful mind cave and please share some headcanons that you have of the two of them please? So i can sit here and giggle uncontrollably while staring at my phone🙃

[original]

I don't really have a whole lot in the way of concrete headcanons regarding Keith & James' past, it's more nebulous ~vibes~, but let me give it my best shot:

So first thing's first, they met upon starting middleschool at the ripe young age of 11 with that delightful hormonal cocktail and all the dysfunctional emotions it entails a-brewing.

Keith's dad had been dead some three years at this point, and his foster placements had gone up in flames enough times that he'd been recently, but rather permanently, placed in a local group home. That in mind, he's all but given up on making actual human connections because these things seem to just never quite work out for him; better that he give up trying altogether, and save himself the hurt, but then... there's James.

Keith's already snagged the desk by the window in the far back—the best spot, as far as he's concerned—and is as happy to ignore and be ignored by his classmates as they file in for sixth period physics, until- until he walks in, all loud laughs and cheeky smiles, with a gaggle of kids hanging off his every word and more effortless charisma than any pre-teen boy should ever really have the right to.

And then gunmetal eyes sort of slide across the room—like he knew he was being watched before Keith even realised he was watching—all lazy arrogance and stupid hair, and he's looking Keith up and down and raising an eyebrow and- Keith looks away, mouth drawn and shoulders tight. Kids like that like to fight kids like him, he knows, and he cannot afford to get chewed out on his first fucking day for god's sake.

But it's not just physics because why would it be, no, over the coming week Keith finds that James Griffin—and it's no surprise to learn he's from money with a name like that—shares at least half his classes, P.E. among them, which is where it truly beings.

"It" being their... rivalry, Keith supposes.

He's not even sure who started it, just as likely to be both of them as neither, but when they're put on opposing teams for a "friendly" game of football, what begins as Keith making the most of his natural dexterity—skirting around lumbering opponents, nimble as a cat—turns into Griffin hunting him and only him down across the pitch like a damn bloodhound. "That's the game kid" the coach tells him, as if, by the end of it, he hadn't been systematically cornered and corralled by the other team irrespective of whether or not he had the damn ball, entirely at Griffin's direction, "like it or lump it". Keith, still wheezing with ribs that protest every breath after a particularly rough tackle, finds himself quite particularly disinclined to lump it, and certainly doesn't like it one bit.

Definitely not.

So Griffin pushes, Keith pulls. Griffin hits, Keith kicks. Griffin scratches, Keith bites.

But it's not bullying, never that: Keith's known his fair share—a scruffy orphan with anger issues is an easy target, he supposes—and this simply isn't it. Griffin evens defends him, once, in the particularly chilly January of their first year when a meat-headed trio think it funny to soak Keith's shirt during gym and leave it out to freeze; without pause or hesitation, Griffin had quietly handled them with more snide diplomacy than Keith himself would ever wield, and though the details of that closing whisper-threat were known only to he who'd received it, the sudden pallor of face and contrition of manner had left quite the impression.

...As did the cozily lined sweater that James—with goosebumps rising on his arms and cheeks already pinking from the chill—had thrown into Keith's arms from across the changing room, citing the pinprick hole in the cuff as reason enough for him to have been planning to rid himself of it anyway.

They're not friends—how could they be? James is intelligent and popular and so annoyingly good at things he damn near makes an art out of breathing—but for the first time since he was orphaned, Keith finds himself with one singular constant that he can rely on to be infuriatingly charmingly stubbornly there: never shying from Keith's sharp edges nor being swayed by the cruel whispers that haunt him everywhere he goes, James is just... James. Disagreeable. Incomprehensible. Unwavering.

And maybe, just a little bit like Keith.

Oh, and I'm also inclined to believe that (both in this au and canon) that past altercation seen in s7ep01 where Keith goes "I can out-fly anyone in this building" and James fires back with "Oh yeah? Is that what mommy and daddy told you before-" [gets punched in the face] was a classic case of projection on James' part: he strikes me as a kid whose parents expect nothing less than perfection—not only that he could be the best, but that he should—so I think that Keith getting the group in trouble, coupled with James just outright projecting his own experiences, led to a cruel comment (and worse for the fact that I believe James didn't actually know Keith was an orphan until after this instance).

[starry-hughes]

halloween night

in which aspen and cole finally give into their wants.

-

after the games, the plan was to head to the bar, get a couple of drinks and then head to brock’s for the actual halloween party. aspen had chosen to attend her brother’s game but watched cole’s game on her phone from the family box.

aspen had changed into her green dress and put on the fairy wings. tinkerbell was her chosen costume, the short green satin dress went to her mid thigh. the boys had gotten ready at the rink while aspen chose to go home to get ready. she ignored the brisk cold air as she walked to the bar to meet everyone.

“what the hell are you wearing?” quinn asked. “i’m tinkerbell.”

elias laughed into his drink and brock grinned. “quinn leave her alone, she’s gonna get free drinks dressed like that,” lexie demko commented. aspen grinned, “see! lex gets it!”

cole walked in, most of the guys from abbotsford hadn’t come but aspen personally invited cole. he didn’t plan a costume, borrowing a ghostface mask from one of his teammates.

aspen was at the bar, getting a shot and a vodka cran. “happy halloween,” cole snuck up behind her. for the last two weeks, the two had been making out, just as friends though. “cole!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her and he quickly smelled her perfume.

“hi,” he became aware of quinn nearby and knew to be careful with his hand placement. aspen pulled from the hug and took the shot the bartender left on the counter next to her drink. cole had to remind himself not to look at her body like he does when no one else is around.

cole had a couple of beers, all graciously put onto quinn’s tab. aspen had another green tea shot and three more vodka crans. the sexual tension was growing between cole and aspen. cole’s hand on her thigh inching up under the table.

“time to go to brock’s,” elias exclaimed. “quinny, i want to go home,” aspen mumbled. “i can get her home,” cole quickly volunteered. “you sure?”

“cole will take care of me!” aspen said, probably too quickly and excitedly.

in the elevator up to the apartment, aspen jammed the button for cole’s floor. “what are you doing?” cole cleared his throat as aspen pulled him down to her lips. “just let me have this tonight, please.”

they stumbled down the hallway, kissing as cole led her back to his apartment. he fumbled with his keys as he unlocked the door, which was hard when he had the most beautiful girl kissing his neck. the door swung open and aspen giggled as she almost fell, caught by cole.

“just one time? quinn doesn’t have to know,” aspen practically begged. cole wanted this for weeks, but quinn made it clear, hands off his sister. no one was to date the captain’s sister. “cole please.”

cole didn’t think for another second, he suddenly couldn’t remember quinn’s words. “how the hell do i get these stupid fairy wings off of you?”

cole got aspen into his t-shirt as she sent a text to quinn, saying she was at cole’s watching a halloween movie. “just a one time thing, right?” cole asks, eyes looking at her halloween costume on the ground and the hickey forming on her thigh. “just once.”

[spextronaut]

Thoughts on this week’s episode of the Mandalorian:

WAHHHHHGGGG

slays left and fucking right rahhhh

Grogu beating that annoying kid’s ass at training because his dad encouraged him >>>>>

The Armorer immediately adopting Grogu as a foundling is so true

Grogu backstory >>>>>

GROGU BEING TOO SMALL FOR THE SIGNET SHOULDER PAD SO ITS A CHESTPLATE

GROGU HAVING ARMOR WITH THE MUDHORN SIGNET!!!!!!

Bo Katan last ep: I don’t wanna join your stupid cult >:( Bo Katan this ep: oh wait,,, affection,,, maybe I will join this cult

WHO DID PAZ VIZSLA FUCK TO HAVE A CHILD OR DID HE ADOPT THE KID THATS THE FUCKIN QUESTION

This is foreshadowing Paz saving Grogu I know it I know it this is some Chekov’s gun thing

“We brought you three more foundlings” *the foundlings are the ugliest ass birds ever*

Oh thank GOD she didn’t ask for the mudhorn signet i would’ve rioted

this is a very delicate placement I,,,, I’m boutta start shipping Bo Katan and the Armorer- /hj

Okay thinking about if Mandalorians can actually have sex or not like,, it feels like it goes against the Creed but who knows

Anyway this episode was soooo fucking good I wasn’t prepared for it to slay so hard after last week’s flop of an episode but it did I’m so happy

Pretty good writing, a good one-off plot with some set up, overall a 10/10 for me bc I had fun

[bwobgames]

Previous First

"Um, what...?"

"Uh oh"

"Well you see"

"Earlier, I was in my shed like always, when I heard some odd sounds outside! But when I went out, there was nothing at all!

So I left, but I still got the lingering worry. What if some animal got in? I really don't like it when my shed gets disturbed, you know

Last time, a bunny got in! Can you believe it?

I had to get rid of it"

"So, I go back! And guess what I found? My controllers were gone!

Now, I might not be an incredibly influential detective like you, Mr Beebo, but I can guess this wasn't the local wildlife

In fact, by the pair of footprints around the woods, I could even assume your scarf friend here told you some things!

And you two went out there giving me trouble, like always"

"Stealing is wrong, you know"

"... Uh, I think killing is worse, actually"

"If you think we'll give them back, you can start begging"

"Oh, don't worry about it, I just need this one! It's in such a good spot!"

"What, under the bar table or something? Fuck you"

"Ángel calm down"

"Huh?"

Eugene smiles

"Oh, I see"

"I'm afraid you got tricked"

Oliver panics a little

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, you see

Last time, you guys really surprised me! I mean, you got me killed!

So... I got a little worried

And decided to pull a little trick, just in case

It's always good to be cautious, you know"

"Fucking- get to the point!"

"Haha okay"

"I changed the little stickers for the bomb placement"

"Whoops"

"...Oh"

"Oh fuck"

"What- What is that one then?"

"A really good one"

"The main room

Right under the snacks table

See? A great spot!"

There's silence in the room

"... What?"

"That's... were mom is"

"Yeah! Your mother! This will be her second time dying via bomb

I need more diversity, I know"

"No... She can't... I haven't talked to her..."

"Ah, dont cry, girl. Im really bad with crying children"

Beebo and Ángel start to back up

"Wait a minute there, we haven't finished talking!

I would hate to make you guys forget so quickly after we've bonded so much"

He waves the control around

Literally and figuratively

They stay

"So, any more questions?"

"What's the fucking point of this"

"Ángel, calm down"

"What are you even planning?! Are you just going to keep us here forever?! Like some sort of purgatory?!"

"Please, we can't do anything rash"

"What? Of course not!"

"I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm not a cruel man!

We all make mistakes, and all of you have made some very big mistakes!

But you won't be here forever, I'll let you out eventually

"I'm just going to kill you over and over again until I'm satisfied"

"Only then you'll earn my forgiveness"

"All of you deserve to die for what you've done to me"

"Ah, of course, you guys are not equal. Some sins are bigger than others. Let's see..."

"I think the first one I'll let out is my sister. She's stupid but means well. Im sure she would apologize immediately if given the chance

Of course, apologies mean nothing in the face of utter betrayal, so she needs to die a few times."

"Next would be the reporter girl. She's incredibly annoying, but I guess that's not the worst sin she could've committed.

Still, I love to hear the sound of her voice getting increasingly quieter when she's dying, so she's staying for a bit"

"Next, ugh, my wife. People really hype up being married, you know? You are supposed to be a team, but she never wanted to help me with anything! It was all about her house and her family and her kids and blah blah. She's so selfish, that woman.

But eh, she's pretty useless right now, so it's not like she'll do anything of worth once I free her"

"Now, Owen, that kid is staying for a few weeks at least. Can't believe he would betray me like this, really, I thought he was an exemplary kid!

But no, he wasn't. I'm sure his mother would be glad to get rid of him for some time

He needs to die many, many times, "

"And then, my son. Or what I thought was my son, turns out the fucker ended up being more like his mother! Useless thing. And to think he was going to be in charge of my company once I moved on to other things.

He couldn't even betray me on his own. He needed the help of his little buddies. What a rat.

I will not have a coward as a son.

I need to see him cry more, so he'll stay a while"

"Now, you two troublemakers"

"I'll be honest, I wasn't planning on keeping you for long, Ángel"

"But seeing as you have been a complete pain in the ass in your stay here, you are staying a good while"

"Stubborn bastard"

"Sounds like a waste of time. You can't even kill me"

"Eh, I'm sure with enough tries I will"

"But it's not like I really need to, do I? I just need to get your little friend here, and it hurts you just as much"

Ángel says nothing to that

"And speaking of said little friend, Mr Beebo, I always planned on you staying here until the very end

You've done something really bad, you know?

It got me really mad!

And now, you come here, meddling in everything I do.

Causing trouble everywhere you go

It's like you know exactly how to completely infuriate me

I hate you so much! With all my being!"

Eugene says, smiling

"... The feeling is mutual"

"How sweet. I'm glad! Killing you is always so satisfying"

"And since you two lovebirds insist on staying together, you'll share a sentence"

"How do you say these things and claim you are not a cruel man?"

"Well, it's simple. This might as well never had happened"

"Whenever a loop starts again, everything is okay again! There's no scars, no pain, no memories, no proof.

So, technically, I never killed anybody! I mean, look! You're still standing

Is it really that bad? I am going to let you out eventually

And once you do, it would be like nothing ever happened!

Im just taking a few months of your life

Who knows! Maybe after I forgive you, we could all be friends!"

"That won't happen"

"Oh, dont say that. You won't even remember this conversation. No one will"

He looks at Ángel

"... Well, almost no one. But hey! Nobody's perfect"

Oliver holds Ángel back

"... You didn't mention me. Although I'm not surprised"

"Oh, don't worry! I didn't forget you this time

This is why I wanted to talk

I have an offer to make"

[hashal-nutcracker]

On the front line

Story One: On the front line

“The war is in full swing, and I was captured by mistake, how stupid it was to be captured now. It’s a pity that fate has turned its back on us, but we will still retake what we have from the Grays.” Hashal "wandering cavalryman" 5th Zatuga Regiment

Introduction: The fighting on the eastern front is much hotter than expected, there is a lack of resources, the enemy has carpet bombed our supply routes. We save as much as we can, we managed to survive several elephant attacks, but at this rate there will be no one to fight, unfortunately. We settled in the trenches for several weeks, there was a lull, but does that mean that we will soon be attacked by chemical weapons. As much as I don’t want to admit it, they have no other choice, they need to smoke out people and nutcrackers, they would rather bring up tanks, they have no strength, neither to fight, nor to treat and provide assistance to those who remained in the neutral zone. War is war, but no one wants it, it’s not for me to decide what they will say, but everyone wants to live. People are freezing, unfortunately there are not enough Greek bodies for everyone, the wounded are dying like flies on a corpse, how disgusting.

The transition between the lines was difficult, we were caught in a minefield and as a result we lost 20 personnel, two nutcrackers were damaged. But the engineers will quickly correct this, our regiment should arrive in a few hours, even from here we can feel the roar of shells and the roar of machine guns, funny, they are so far away, but so close. The cars move along their trajectory, sometimes I can hear the conversations of my comrades, but their voices are so quiet and loud at the same time, I hope I won’t go deaf with their screams in the future. Thoughtfully looking up, the back of my head hit the metal edging of this corpse cart, legends can be made about this, no matter how much I wanted to relax, but they did not allow me to do so. The roar and hesitant steps of one of the partners were very tense, which forced him to open the face plate: --m? - oddly enough, it was a signalman from the “dogs of war”, my squad, not bad at all, I see he has the same battle scars on his body as I had after repairs, from the dossier I learned that he took part in the attack on Holkan: “Sir,” he said, but when he waved his hand, he realized that I didn’t want to hear any officer’s statements, he covered part of his face with his hand and seemed to cough when he sat down on the boxes opposite my location: --then there won’t be many formalities, as you understand, we are moving to the southern front under the leadership of Azimov Khalochtak, according to my information they are suffering heavy losses, the command is experiencing difficulties in the correct placement of units, there are almost no cavalrymen left, the last attack on the breakthrough was in vain - he remained silent he, finally allowing me to sit more comfortably, folding my hands on the knee joint and turning my head partially in a circle: -continue - meekly cutting off, Hashal fixed his gaze on the uniform and the device on the back of the Signalman, what was his name: Shakur? Call sign: Caller Curiously, looking at him I remembered the professor’s face, just as gloomy and beaten by life, if he were a nutcracker he would be Shakuram, his worn paint and bullet marks affected his appearance, part of his face was split and put back together making his grimace more threatening. The belt was decorated with a sapper's shovel with a sharp end, a good thing in the hands of an experienced fighter, almost like a saber or a bayonet, a knife, the rifle thrown over the shoulder gleamed funny with its barrel blackened by time, chips, notches, everything was as it should be. Throwing my leg over to the other side, leaning back and looking up, my sigh betrayed me, what a shame, they are now looking at me:

yes, the matter is complete rubbish, but we will look at the existing possibilities, even from your words it is harder for me to understand what, where, and how much - the irritated rumble that came out of me attracted even more attention, the soldiers and nutcrackers were now looking at me, hitting myself on the face shield, and rubbing it as if I had damn cheekbones:

don’t look at me like that, yes, we don’t really have a choice, so please, enjoy the silence for the last time, which will no longer be here The nutcrackers looked at each other, some even shrugged their shoulders, some whispered with people, Shakur just exhaled, accepting the fact that they really needed rest, so having made themselves more comfortable, they could only wait

The blow to the body of the car made me wake up abruptly, how sweet it was to rest even during these couple of hours of shaking in the mud, getting up slowly with the others, taking my weapon and jumping down into the mud and blood that mixed with the ground, the nutcracker that ran up to us. Our guide was a former Titan guard, like Cavalier. Some, taking boxes with shells and other things, moved forward behind the Cavalier, he surprisingly moved quickly enough even for Khashal, habits and the reaction developed during the battles took their toll, a couple of times mine fell face down in the mud, but immediately got up, jumping into the trenches and moving along them , we were getting closer and closer to the field headquarters, I was sent here to replace the officer who had died earlier and was burned alive in one of the trenches we left.

(a small dialogue between the heavy infantry soldier and Hashal "wandering cavalryman")

[cotecoyotegrrrl]

Once Upon A Time - Still Kind of Beautiful - part 2

Not exactly a holiday story

There's a letter on the desktop that I dug out of a drawer  The last truce we ever came to from our adolescent war  And I start to feel the fever from the warm air through the screen You come regular like seasons shadowing my dreams 

Indigo Girls

You can find of this story in its entirety on A03 and FF

Summary:

Holly has come home for the holidays to visit family, and maybe, just maybe, find some holiday magic.

Part 2

Holly is home for the holidays. Home. What a strange and wonderful thing, even though she hasn't lived in this city in a decade, Toronto still feels like home. She comes home about once or twice a year to spend a few weeks to a month visiting friends and relatives, living in the guestroom of what is now her sister's townhouse, although she still owns it. On longer visits, like this one, she combines pleasure with business, hanging out in the morgue, getting caught up with old colleagues, and now that she let her boss talk her into being on that stupid show, giving lectures and making a few official public appearances, God or somebody help her.

It used to be easier avoiding Gail. When Sophie and Leo were young, all that Traci needed to do was to get Gail to babysit the kids for an evening and they would meet up for drinks at The Black Penny. Now that the kids are both old enough to be in collage, it's harder, even though Holly knows Gail doesn't really go out much anymore. She knows she's taken the coward's way out. As Traci says, it's been ten years for Christ's sake, what is she still afraid of? They did part as friends. Right? And now, Traci tells her, laughing at her the whole time, Sophie is a big fan of the show and wants to meet her. It's like she's become the butt of some bad, sad cosmic joke. She sighs and drops her forehead into her arms that are resting on the bar. Seamus, the regular bartender at the Penny, pushes a Jack and Coke in front of her without being asked.

"It's good to see you Doc!" He says as he goes back to polishing the glassware, "This one's on me."

"Thanks Seamus!" She smiles, sitting back up to lift the glass to her mouth. The barely tainted liquor burns all the way down.

Just the way Gail likes it, or did, in any case.

It's been ten years, three months, and sixteen days since she kissed the blonde officer goodbye at the airport on her way to her new life, not that she would know. Ten years, three months, sixteen days, and nine and a half hours since she boarded that plane to be exact, if she kept track of those kinds of things. Ten years, three months, sixteen days, and four hours since she left a message on Gail's voicemail letting her know that her flight had landed in San Francisco, and began to wait for a reply that never came. She thought about reaching out to Gail when Traci told her that Sophie's adoption didn't go through, and then again a year and a half later, when it did. She had wanted to fly home and rush to Gail's side when she heard about the internal corruption investigation, and then the trial where Gail and Steve had been forced to testify against their parents, pitting them against each other as well. But the wall of silence had stopped her. She had seen Gail from a distance on several of her visits home, always managing to slip away before she was noticed, not wanting her presence to intrude on Gail's life. She had heard from several of their mutual friends about how retched Gail had been after she left, and how Gail finally managed to pull herself together when it became clear that Children's Services were considering her once again as a parental candidate for Sophie, after Sophie's placement with a more traditional family fell apart. Who is she kidding? It isn't just Gail that she is trying to protect.

"Hey Girl! You are looking good!" She can hear the smile in Traci's voice even before she spins around on her bar stool to be grabbed into a warm hug.

"Traci!" She grins into the shoulder of the wool coat that is pressing into her cheek.

Traci pulls back, holding her at arms length for a moment and then lets go. She waives at Seamus and holds up two fingers. He nods and places two shots of bourbon and two pints of beer on the bar in front of them.

They settle into a booth in the back, talking about Holly's reluctant celebrity, and Traci's recent promotion to Regional Special Operations Team Leader and her move from Division 15 to the Ontario Police Headquarters, and about how she and Steve reconnected about a year ago and are giving dating another try.

"So you and Steve…?" Holly tilts her head, raising her eyebrows at Traci, "How is that working?"

"It's good." Traci smiles back, "I think we are really going to make a go of it this time. He has done a lot of work on himself around communication, and control, and trust."

"That's great Traci, I am really happy for you." Holly replies.

"Thanks!" Traci says, "And even better, Leo loves Steve, so he couldn't be more thrilled!"

"I can't believe he is in his second year at the University of Toronto! All grown up, and a starting Left Wing on the hockey team!" Holly smiles and shakes her head.

"You want me to get us tickets for a game while you're here?" Traci glows with pride.

"Of course!" Holly grins and finishes her drink. "Here let me get us another round."

The Penny has filled up quickly in the time they have been sitting wrapped in conversation, with the usual crowd of cops getting off the day shift, people from the neighborhood, and the occasional college student or two. Holly has to push her way to the bar and squeeze in between a couple or large guys to place their drink order. She fidgets as she waits for the new bartender she doesn't know to stop flirting a couple of girls sitting at the end of the bar. Sooner or later people she knows will be filing in after work, and then she will be here all night. She sighs and looks up to find Seamus placing their drinks before her.

"Sorry about that." He shrugs, "Jimmy doesn't know you, and he thought you were just some hot cougar out hunting cops." He smirks.

"So I'm no longer a badge bunny." She laughs, "Well at least he thinks I'm still hot."

"Darlin', you were never a badge bunny!" The voice says behind her, "And Seamus, put that on my tab."

She whirls around to be caught in a great hug that warms her down to her very soul.

"It's so good to see you." She murmurs into Oliver's ear.

"Yup. Yup, I could say the same." Oliver releases her, "Celery told me you were in town. So I figured it was only a matter of time before I caught you sneaking around down here."

"I am not sneaking around!" She replies indignantly.

"Sure you're not…" He laughs at her

"I'm not! I'm here with Traci, if you must know…" She gives him a playful shove.

"Yeah, yeah, sittin' in the back, ignoring all of us little people…" He teases. "Well look Darlin', I gotta go but maybe I'll see you when I get home on Monday?"

"Celery and I are just going to hang around the house after lunch, so you know you will." She smiles as he kisses her cheek and walks off in the direction of the dartboard.

Holly smiles to herself. It is good to be home. She has picked up the drinks and is carefully turning to return to her seat when she literally bumps into someone that stops her cold. The black leather jacket is shockingly familiar, from the tiny scull charm dangling from the zipper on the breast pocket to the knot she put in the waist belt so long ago. Looking up into eyes, framed by gold wire rimmed glasses, as dark and brown as her own, in a face she has only seen in pictures, makes Holly gasp.

"Hey! Watch it lady!" The dark curls that tumble out from underneath a watch cap, and the flawless milk-chocolate brown skin are unfamiliar, but the tone and the accompanying gesture are all Gail.

"Sophie?" Holly asks in a hushed tone.

"Oh my God!" Is all Sophie can manage as she gapes wide eyed at her hero, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Doc..Dr. Stewart? You… you know who I am?" She finally sputters.

Holly regains her composure as she watches the girl struggle.

"Wha... what are you doing here?" Sophie stutters, still obviously in shock.

Holly laughs, "I'm having a drink with your Aunt Traci."

"Oh." Sophie says, still frozen to the spot.

"Why don't you come over and say hello." Holly continues, leading the way back to the booth.

"Oh. Ok." Sophie follows like a puppy, all awkward and shy.

"Look who I found." Holly says while sliding back into the booth.

"Oh good! You've met." Traci looks up with a smile. "Hey Sophie! How's school?"

Sophie is still standing somewhat dumbstruck in front of them.

"Uh… good Aunt Traci, really good…" She finally manages.

"Sophie wants to be a Forensic Pathologist too." Traci smiles at Holly.

"Really?" Holly tilts her head with a smile, "So you want to be an uber-science nerd like me?

"Oh I don't think you're a nerd, Dr. Stewart! Well not in a bad way, anyway. I think you're amazing! And all of the cases you help solve…" Sophie gushes.

"Please. Call me Holly." She interrupts, her smile growing wider. So this is Sophie. This amazing young woman is the reason Gail couldn't come with her to San Francisco. Sitting here listening to Sophie ramble on, bubbling about forensic science, in much the same way she does herself, is like a gift she didn't know she needed. Until now. Holly finds the weight of ten years of disappointment and resentment for a life without Gail lifting as she sees the young woman before her begin to glow with excitement as she answers each question about their chosen profession. Traci is grinning ear to ear with pride across the table at her too.

"I have to say, I'm impressed." Holly grins as Sophie finishes telling them about the molecular biology project on the breakdown of DNA and methods of its reconstruction for analysis in the field she has been working on all semester. "That's quite advanced stuff you are working on!"

She watches Sophie blush, lick her lips and scuff her boot on the wooden floor and then look back up at her with wide, trusting eyes in a way that is just so Gail. It catches Holly completely off guard; it makes her want to cry all of a sudden. She can feel Traci's eyes, soft and motherly, watching her. It's all starting to be too much.

"Hey! There you are. I thought we were meeting at the bar…" Gail's annoyed voice cuts in behind Sophie.

Holly closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and leans her head against the wooden back of the booth.

"Hey Mom! I was just talking to Aunt Traci and Dr. Stewart… erm… I mean Holly!" Sophie exclaims, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she turns to face Gail.

"Oh." Gail says as all of the blood drains from her body. She licks her lips, feeling as if she has been plunged into ice water.

Traci is frozen too, looking from Holly to Gail to Sophie with frantic, worried eyes. She finally snaps out of it, springing from her seat to take Sophie gently by the arm. "Why don't we go get another round at the bar." She says, leading a thoroughly confused Sophie away from the booth.

Brown eyes open to meet blue and nothing else matters. The Penny, the noise, and everyone else all seem to disappear.

"Hello Gail." Holly says softly.

That's all it takes. Suddenly Holly is on her feet. Gail takes two quick strides forward to catch her and hold on tight.

"I've missed you." Holly finally manages to gasp in a strangled whisper.

"Me too, Holly, me too." Gail sobs quietly into her ear. "More than I can ever say."

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 22: Rainy Days

Ugh, this day. I’m pretty done with this week. It was short and I’m not prepared for the weekend but I’m also done with the whole thing. I think it’s partly the weather, which is a real drag and also an inconvenience, and partly just that I’ve seriously needed a vacation for like 2 months now, and partly just like poor self control and poor planning.

I left work early to avoid the thunderstorms that were supposed to happen, and I guess that was probably a good idea because it had just started raining when I got home, and it was pouring during the entire time I would have been commuting if I’d worked a full day at the library. But man, at what cost? I only worked at home for 90 minutes but it sucked. It sucked. I hate working from home. It is boring, it’s lonely, it’s unstimulating. And I brought my work laptop home because I thought that would make it easier, but what it has in speed and easily accessible work-relevant it loses in having the most obnoxious track pad and also being a pain in the ass to transport in my bag. I usually use it attached to a separate monitor, screen, keyboard, and mouse, and if I unplug it, it’s for fairly short periods of time. The track pad does not work for me for longer work sessions. It’s a different shape and placement than the one I’m used to, and it doesn’t have separate buttons to click on, so I’m always right clicking or moving to the wrong places, and the whole angle of it hurts my wrist. I don’t know. I just… I brought it home in part because it’s supposed to be thunderstorming tomorrow morning and then for most of the day and I thought I might remote work instead of going out yet again in a monsoon but… I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know how I did this for like 2 years. No wonder I have long term mental problems now (self-diagnosed). Right now, I’m leaning toward taking an extra set of clothes, accepting I will get very wet and have a shitty time generally walking in to work, and then just change when I get there. Hopefully I don’t get hit by lightning lol rip me.

Truly a capitalist dystopian nightmare. I don’t hate my job--I like it maybe too much!--and I actually do have a lot to catch up on after taking half of last week off but MAN is literally anything I’m doing or going to do tomorrow worth this? Is it worth walking through a thunderstorm? Was Wednesday worth getting so soaked I took 3 hours getting dry, people driving in with zero visibility, driving through water, leaving their kids at home in houses without power? Is it? For what? For what that couldn’t wait, just literally, honestly asking.

Anyway, I went to sleep late last night, through every fault of my own, and I was so fucking exhausted post-work that I just went to sleep. And I slept a long time. And then I woke up confused and guilty and hungry. I feel better now that I have eaten but it’s also stupid o’clock again. I’m going to pack a backpack for tomorrow, force myself to make a sandwich for lunch, ignore the dishes, skip a shower, brush my teeth, and go to bed. I feel bad about the stuff I did not accomplish this week and worried about the weekend, because of all the stuff I have to/was planning to do. But mostly I just feel sort of like shit. I want to sleep.