#only now that I’m in my late twenties do I realize this is a problem I don’t seem to be growing out of

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

when amateur writers post their fiction where their friends and family can read it I’m like “how do you live with yourself. genuine question. how do I— how do I live like you.”

[theoldsports]

married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt

sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru

[shjsnjkj]

COME 2 ME┊ l.hs

kinktober day 1! - masterlist

warnings : smut, MDNI, making out, pussy eating, nicknames, unprotected sex

featuring: Enhypen-Jungwon

genre: smut

taglist: @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @moonpri @blushbunini

wc: 1,6 k ✧.*

☆ boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader

; After a rough day at work, you finally stepped out of the office building, only to find yourself caught in a sudden downpour. That would've been no problem because you love rainy days, but you didn't have an umbrella, and your phone's battery died as well. You prayed that your boyfriend, Heeseung would pass by your workplace and pick you up, but you knew he was working late. But not today, he came to you with his new car. You were so happy to see him and couldn't wait to thank him for saving you tonight. “You know, I’m ready. Waiting for you every night. Entrusting myself to your touch”

Another long, stressful day at work.

You enjoyed your job, but lately, you've been feeling more anxious than usual. It's because of your new boss at work. She's always late with everything and is quick to point out mistakes in everyone's work.

"What do you think, would this dress be suitable for the gala?" -she touched the dress you made with a look of disgust on her face.

"Yes, ma'am."

"How can you say that to my face like that? You need to make another one."

"What?"

"Right now!

You stayed on to finish the dress even after she decided to head home.

"Y/n, I'll take care of it. I'll stick around for the night since my online meeting is scheduled for tonight due to time zone differences. I've got time until then, so let me help you with that dress. Go home and unwind. You've already done so much today." -Jungwon said.

"Are you sure about that?” -he nodded- "Thank you so much. You're the best!"

Jungwon was undoubtedly one of the best stylists at your company and in your country. He's worked with all the big names, from Prada to Bvlgari. But he was also your best friend. He showed you all the tricks and techniques to follow in his footsteps and become the next most successful fashion designer like he was before he shifted his focus to styling.

You packed up your stuff and went straight home. You were relieved to finally leave the office for the day when something wet fell on your head. And another one, too. Before you knew it, it was pouring with rain and there were big lightning bolts in the distance. You were fine with it because you always loved rainy days. You could be reading a romantic book at home under a warm blanket or you could be under the blanket with your boyfriend, Heeseung, making love all night. However, Heeseung was nowhere to be found now. So does your umbrella. You thought about calling an Uber, but as soon as you pulled your phone from your pocket, you realized it was turned off. It probably doesn't have any battery left. Fantastic.

You went under the building's roof to wait out the storm. Twenty minutes later, the situation hadn't changed. You didn't want to bother Jungwon in the middle of his meeting, so the only thing you could do was pray for Heeseung to come pick you up.

He usually works late, so you had less hope as time passed. Another ten minutes passed, and you saw a big black Porsche pull up in front of the building, the driver slowly lowering the car window.

It was Heeseung. He came to rescue you. Your mood changed instantly. You didn't even notice the rain as you ran to the car and got inside.

“Hi baby!” -he smiled at you.

“Heeseung you came!” -you leaned to kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course, I came to pick you up! I called you countless times so I assumed your phone must've died and I couldn’t leave my princess here for the night in the heavy rain.”

“Awww….my love. What should I do without you?! You’re such a gentleman.” -you gave him another kiss on the cheek.- “And what’s this car? Did you borrow it from someone?”

“No, this is mine. I bought it today and I wanted to surprise you with it. Do you like it, baby?”

“Mhm, of course, I love this one just as much. Nevertheless, I didn’t see much from the car because it’s dark outside and I'm excited to try the backseat as well.”

“You can’t go there now”

“Why??” -you watched him with puppy eyes.

“There’s a surprise for you, but you have to wait for that.” -he said seriously and turned on the engine to drive you home.

“What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll see baby! Just stay still.”

The ride home was chilly, Heeseung’s hand remained on your thighs while slow music played on the radio. The rain hasn’t stopped but the car did at an empty parking lot.

“Why did we stop?”

“Didn’t you want to try out the backseat?”

“Oh, yeah you’re right. But let me dry myself with something because I’m still a bit wet from the rain outside.”

“There’s no need for that Y/n. Just go.”

“Okay?” -you stood up as much as you could and went to the backseat. There were two gift boxes there. One big and a smaller one.

“Omg, Heeseung what are these”

“Open it up.” -he said as he climbed over to your side from the driver’s seat. There wasn't much space for him because of the boxes so you insisted him sit down on your place and you’ll sit on his lap to be more comfortable.

“Ah, this is more comfortable. I missed you so much, Y/n. Your smell, your touch.” -Heeseung kissed your neck as you opened up the first box, trying to keep your moans inside.

“Heeseung this is so pretty! Can you put this necklace on my neck, please?” -he didn’t hesitate and did what you asked. To be precise, he did more than what you asked.

Wet kisses all over your neck. The straps of your dress are halfway down on your arms, while you try to put them back because you know that you two would make a mess if you gave in. So you tried to get away from Heeseung a bit and opened the next box. You discovered a beautiful short black, silk dress and a Prada symbol on it.

“Hee…I should be the one to give you something for coming to me today.”

“Then change into that dress and come for me.”

That sentence was all it took for you to lose your ability to restrain yourself. You had originally planned to wait until you got home, but you couldn't resist him anymore. You turned around to face him and started to unzip the dress you were wearing, leaving you in just your black lingerie. Heeseung watched the scene unfold before him, picturing what he'd do to you in the next few minutes.

Heeseung came closer and started kissing you deeply, ruining your red lipstick. Your tongues were locked in a passionate embrace, saliva dripping all over your jaws. You unintentionally pressed yourself against him through his pants and started riding him, which made Heeseung want more from you. Suddenly you felt Heeseung’s cold hands on your warm back, unclipping your bra.

"Let's wait until you're ready to change into the dress. I want to make sure you're feeling better first."

You just nodded, and before you knew it, he was kissing your breasts and sucking gently on your nipples while massaging the other with his hand. Your pants were getting more and more wet, and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning.

"Just be patient, Y/N. There's more on the way." He helped you get dressed in the Prada dress. Heeseung bent you down on the seat and reached between your thighs. He gave you a smirk when he saw how wet you were. He pulled down your lingerie and threw it on the gearshift.

In no time, your legs were open for him and you felt his hot breath at your entrance. Heeseung slowly started to place sweet kisses on your pussy, following that with his warm tongue tasting each line of your folds. You couldn’t stop mewing and your desire for him just kept growing.

He came up to you, kissing your swollen lips, meanwhile, his fingers found their way to your entrance. The next moment, you felt his long and thick fingers curling inside your pussy. Leaving you breathless, your back arching.

“Mhmm. I-I w-wanted to thank you for your help. But you make me like this instead.”

“Shh baby. You already thanked me with being a good girl for me.” -he kissed your forehead while increasing the pace of his fingers.

It didn’t last too long before you cummed, arousal drenched his index and middle fingers. He put them in your mouth to lick it down, letting you taste your own cum.

“It’s so sweet, right? Like yourself baby.”

“Now turn around”

You were on your knees with him behind your back. Heeseung pulled your dress up to your waist and put his tip close to your entrance. One last kiss on your neck and he was inside you fully. Sliding in and out while you support yourself with the window, your hands leaving prints on the fogged glass.

You could only hear the clapping of your skin together and the beautiful moanings Heeseung filled your ear with. With every pump, you felt like losing yourself and so did Heeseung. You just moaned from the pain and the pleasure while you tightened around him until you felt something form in your stomach. It hurt but felt so right at the same time. You truly felt how much he loves you and you tried to reciprocate that every time.

“He-Heeseung..I-I’m gonna…” -you weren’t able to form words normally but Heeseung knew what you meant and he felt the same.

"Cum for me, baby" -Heeseung whispered, his voice husky with desire. With a few more deep thrusts, you both reached your climax together, your bodies shuddering in unison. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath, feeling the warmth of Heeseung's body against yours. The rain continued to patter against the car windows, creating a soothing rhythm that matched your slowing heartbeats. As the fog on the windows slowly cleared, you realized how much you loved these spontaneous moments with him. As you came down from your high, Heeseung held you close, placing gentle kisses on your shoulder.

“I love you Heeseung!” -you melted into his body.

"I love you too, Y/n," -Heeseung whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "You know, I'm ready. Waiting for you every night. Entrusting myself to your touch."

Hello~~ This is the opening story for our masterlist with @luviwon ღ

I hope you’ll like it and I recommend you to stick around because there’s more to come! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It’s the first day of the month, so I wish everyone amazing weeks and make sure to rest and read a lot this month as well! 🧸ྀི

Sending lots of love! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[nadvs]

can u do them getting married in the swte au but like max or someone shows up and tries to do something...

ohhh i love wedding drama 👀

based on this fic

» au masterlist

at this point, rafe’s career has taken off to a level he never even dreamed of. he’s been playing professionally for six years and he’s so famous that even people who don’t follow sports know who he is.

men want to be him, women want to be with him. yet all he wants is to play ball and live a good, comfortable life with his girl and their kids.

it’s tough, but she’s gotten used to it. the press know her at this point, too, so she’s not able to really go anywhere without being followed.

so, after he proposes, they tell family and their closest friends only, keeping the engagement a secret. she doesn’t even risk wearing her ring out.

they plan a small, private wedding, with only twenty guests. it’s a reprieve from the chaos that has become their lives.

rafe is grateful for his career, but he resents that the fame has taken away their chance at a normal life. his fiancée assures him she’s okay with it, but even though he has all the money he could ever dream of, he wishes he could somehow buy her peace and quiet and anonymity.

he does his best for their wedding. he hires security to surround the venue. the ceremony is intimate. no problems, no hitches.

but at the reception, late into the night, he notices a waiter snapping a photo of them on his phone. rafe doesn’t want to ruin the atmosphere for his bride’s sake, so he quietly motions for one of the security guards to follow him and corners the waiter.

rafe looks back to see his wife dancing with the twins to make sure she doesn’t see. he doesn’t want any stress on their day.

“delete that,” rafe warns. he’s livid. he made sure the venue manager told the service staff they weren’t allowed to take photos or tell anyone whose wedding they were working.

“i’m just a big fan,” the waiter says nervously.

“then you’d respect what we asked for,” he mutters. his fists are clenched. it’s taking everything in him not to lose it. he’s just as temperamental as he was when he was playing in college, but now, he actually has something to lose, so he keeps his cool for his family’s sake. “did you send it to anyone? or post it?”

the man’s eyes go wide.

“no,” he says. but the lie is obvious.

“how many people?”

“just my…” he looks away. “i’ll delete it.”

rafe watches the guy scrambling on his phone. he scoffs once he realizes it was on his story. he takes the phone out of his hand and taps to see that it’s been seen by 14 people. that’s more than enough for a story to spread.

“please don’t tell my boss,” he says.

“you’re fuckin’ dreaming,” rafe mutters.

he assures the story gets taken down. he watches the guy delete the photo, then delete it from his deleted folder. and then, rafe finds his boss.

he doesn’t want the public to take a piece of something as sacred as their wedding day. the photos, these memories, are just for them and their loved ones.

rafe finds his wife on the dance floor, their kids hopping around her to the music. once his daughter sees him, she stretches her arms out for him pick her up. he crouches to hold her.

“everything okay?” his wife asks him. rafe must be wearing his concern on his face.

he kisses his daughter’s cheek.

“yeah,” he says, although he’s not sure. paparazzi could be on their way now. but he doesn’t want to worry her. “did i tell you how pretty you are?”

she cocks her head, beaming at him.

“only a million times,” she says.

“how about me?” his daughter asks.

“oh, you’re the prettiest,” her mom coos.

rafe eventually manages to get back into the enjoyment of the night. the twins are eventually taken home by family for bedtime.

but then, close to one a.m., one of the guards he hires finds him to tell him they stopped press at the door.

“for fuck’s sake,” rafe mutters. his wife looks up at him with sad eyes. she didn’t need to hear what security said. she knows. “just keep them out, alright?”

because she loves rafe so much, she swallows her sorrow and takes his hand, guiding him to lean close to her so he can hear her over the music.

“you’ve given me a perfect day,” she says, “and a perfect life. don’t stress about it. they’ll leave. and if they don’t, we’ll find another way out. the kids are home safe. that’s what matters.”

rafe tightens his jaw. and he realizes she’s grown just as much as he has. they used to be just two impulsive, stubborn, short-tempered kids, but now they have almost endless patience and understanding for each other.

at some point, they really did become their own little team, protecting each other, growing into better people for each other.

“i’m sorry,” he says, guilt consuming him.

“not your fault,” she tells him. “just dance with your wife, okay? for once, we don’t have kids demanding we pick them up or give them snacks. let’s enjoy it.”

they get drunk. and even though they leave an hour later, the paps catch them darting out of the back of the banquet hall, camers shuttering as they’re held back by a wall of security as they dip into the limousine.

the photos hit the public the next day, the story of their secret wedding all over social media.

even though rafe worried it ruined their wedding, the next morning, she holds her phone up to him as they eat breakfast as a family. the photo of them drunkenly laughing as they scrambled into the limo last night is on her screen. it’s a captured moment of pure bliss.

“is it crazy that i want this one added to the album?” she says.

“what? what?” her son demands to see.

she leans to show her kids the photo and all rafe can do is stare at her. it’s so like her, finding a positive in something that he thought put a blemish on the night.

perfect. that’s the word she used last night. a perfect life. as he sits at the table with the three people he loves most, a ring on his hand, he can’t think of a better word to describe it.

[songforeddiemunson]

Can you please do a Eddie X virgin reader where there has always been romance and they never acted on it until they confess when there watching a film and then a couple weeks after they make out then have soft sex

Thank you so much for the request!! I made some minor adjustments because that's just the route the narrative took me, but I hope you like it! I'm SO sorry this took so long, it's been a nutty few weeks.

NEXT SUMMER

Eddie Munson x Fem!Virgin!Reader (description vague apart from AFAB for inclusivity)

Summary: Eddie meets a cousin of the Wheelers who is visiting for the summer, and falls head over heels. The problem is, she lives in Chicago, and needs to return in the fall. Can they handle it?

Warnings/Tropes: longing with a bit of angst, fluffy affection, romantic soft smut, mild language, aftercare, mostly this is just really sweet.

Word Count: 5517

August 1990

You first caught Eddie’s eye on a late summer evening, standing under the twinkling lights of carnival rides at the county fair. It was the sort of cotton candy sky just moments before the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of another august day. The droning cicadas were rapidly giving way to the cricket’s song, but all of those innocuous details faded away as Eddie watched you as you waited in line for the Scrambler, talking and laughing with your companion.

Eddie’s heart nearly leapt in his throat when he saw that the person you were speaking with was someone he actually knew. Nancy Wheeler! his brain screamed, and before he realized what he was doing, his feet were carrying him forward as if he was on autopilot, such was your magnetism.

Nancy caught sight of Eddie as he approached, and her face broke out into a broad grin. “Eddie!” she exclaimed with delight. “It’s so great to see you!” She hugged him as you stood by, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“Likewise, Wheeler,” Eddie replied fondly, and when his eyes slipped to you, your heart nearly ceased its rhythm. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and all you could do was stare wordlessly at the handsome man who evidently was a friend to Nancy.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was experiencing the same physical paralysis under your gaze.

“Eddie! You have to meet my little cousin!  She goes by Ivy, but her name is–”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, cutting Nancy off. Blood rushed to your cheeks in mortification.  “I am not little, I’m twenty years old now!’

Nancy giggled fondly. “Well sure, but you’ll always be little to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m only two years younger than you, but whatever.”

Eddie laughed, and your cheeks pinkened even more. “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie,” you said. You struggled to meet his eyes; it was like staring at the sun.

“It’s good to meet you too Ivy, if– if you don’t mind me calling you that.”

You smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Please do.”

And so you spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and Nancy, keeping things oh so casual but feeling like you might die every time he looked at you. You remained aloof because, after all, you didn’t even live in Hawkins, and eventually you’d have to return home to the city. 

When Eddie first learned that you would be returning to Chicago at the end of the summer, he was crestfallen but struggled to mask it.

“I’m sure Chicago is really cool,” he said with forced bravado. “Way cooler than boring old Hawkins.”

“Oh but I love coming here,” you breathed enthusiastically. “Chicago is cool and all, but this is so nice. I love smelling the mown grass, and being able to go to the drive-in movie theater, and all that great summertime stuff.” You gestured around you. “And the county fair! I love coming to the fair.”

Eddie smiled despite his growing sadness. “You make it sound pretty nice. But really it’s just cornfields…”

“...I love corn,” you countered.

“And strip malls…”

“.....strip malls always have video stores, and I love movies.” you said with a grin.

Nancy returned from buying a candy apple.

You pointed at her. “Candy apples! I can’t buy candy apples in Chicago.”

“Hmm?” she replied, confused, chewing. “I’m sure you can buy candle apples in Chicag–”

“Not from the fair though,” you interrupted. “They’re better from the fair.”

“Point taken,” Eddie said with a chuckle, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“I do still want to jump in a creek though,” you said wistfully.

“Gross, no. There are leeches,” Nancy said.

“Not in creeks,” Eddie laughed. “Ponds, maybe. But creeks are fine.”

And so the evening wound down. You and Eddie went back and forth over the virtues of city vs country living, but Eddie had to admit, you did have a way of making Hawkins sound pretty great. When it was time to part ways, Eddie desperately wanted to kiss you, so much that his lips nearly burned from the need, but he refrained. What would a girl like you ever see in a guy like him?

Two days later, on a late Sunday morning, where the summer sun shone relentlessly through a bluebird sky, Eddie picked up the phone and dialed the Wheeler’s number with a shaking hand.

Mike answered, sounding like he just woke up.

“Mehllo?” he mumbled by way of answer.

“Mike! It’s Eddie.”

“Munson?!” that seemed to wake him up. “Dude! It’s been forever!”

“Yeah man! How are you doing?”

“Oh things are good, I’m going off to college next month, and–”

“Is your cousin around? Ivy?” Eddie blurted anxiously, covering his face in embarrassment over the way he must have sounded. “Sorry man, it’s just that I need to ask her something. I would love to catch up with you though! Before you head to school; we should get together.”

“Yeah definitely,” Mike responded, unbothered. "We’ll catch up. I’ll go get Ivy….” 

Eddie heard the handset thump against whatever surface Mike set it upon, and heard him call your name. He faintly heard your voice respond, which made Eddie’s already hammering heart pick up its pace. More fumbling noises ended with a slightly breathless, “Hello? Eddie?”

“Hi Ivy,” he replied, and you thought maybe you could hear a smile in his voice. “Wanna go jump in a creek?”

Your summertime in Hawkins was coming to a close; in only a few days’ time you were due to return to Chicago and university. As the final days ticked away, a ball of sadness gradually grew in the pit of your stomach. It was the best summer ever, and you were sorry to see its end.

Since the night you met him at the fair, Eddie had taken you cliff jumping into the Bear Creek, something that simultaneously terrified and thrilled you, leaving you more exhilarated than you have felt in a long while. But when you weren’t jumping, you simply floated in the water, watching the dappled sun dance across its surface, loving life.

Eddie also took you to the drive-in theater. It wasn’t a date, since he didn’t technically ask you out like that, and Nancy and Mike also insisted on tagging along. You lined camping chairs up in front of the van and rolled down the windows with the sound up loud so you could all sit together. It was a lovely, balmy night of watching Total Recall, and you ate too many skittles while swatting mosquitoes. It was perfect.

And now summer was ending and it was time to go, and you couldn’t possibly want to return to Chicago less. Why did you have to meet Eddie now?

You sighed as you packed up your things, folding clothes and setting them in your suitcase slowly, unmotivated. Nancy perched on the side of your bed, watching.

“You seem really bummed out,” Nancy remarked.

“I guess I’m not looking forward to going home. I wish I could stay a bit longer.” you replied, not bothering to hide your low mood.

“Would this have anything to do with a certain long-haired boy that lives on the other side of town?” Nancy prodded. It’s not like you were hiding anything.

“That obvious? And he’s twenty-four, he’s not a boy.”

Nancy nodded, with a giggle. “Fair enough.”

“And…maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like he’s kissed me or asked me out properly....” You stalled your packing, and you folded and unfolded the same sweater over and over while you let your thoughts wander.

“But you want him to?” Nancy prodded gently after a moment.

You sighed. “Yeah, I do. It’s kind of all I can think about actually,” you added with a wistful chuckle.  “But what’s the point when I live all the way in Chicago the other nine months of the year?” You flopped down dramatically on the bed with a huff.

“Maybe you can talk on the phone and stuff throughout the year, and pick up where you left off next summer?”

“Long distance?” You allowed a glimmer of hope to creep in. “Do you think that could work?”

Nancy shrugged. “I did it with Jonathan when he moved to California. It’s not easy, but it can work.”

You hitched a deep sigh. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy replied.

The sky was overcast as you loaded the last of your bags into the back of the Wheeler’s car, matching your mood. You hugged Mike and Karen goodbye; Ted and Nancy were going to ride with you to the train station. You scanned the empty suburban streets for Eddie, but he was nowhere to be seen, causing your heart to sink even lower.

Just as you were about to climb into the backseat, you heard a sound that pulled your attention toward the woods at the edge of the neighborhood. There was some rustling and you saw that the flora was jostling about. What the–

Eddie suddenly materialized from the trees, calling, “Wait!” as he trotted over toward you. Your heart reversed its previous downward trajectory with haste, and happiness soared through you so abruptly and completely that you thought you might fall over.

“I cut through the woods,” Eddie stated breathlessly. “I was afraid I wouldn’t make it.”

“Just in time,” you grinned.

Ted poked his head out of the car’s driver window. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going.”

“Oh– Okay, I won’t take long,” Eddie stammered slightly.  “I just wanted to say good bye and ask you…is it okay if I call you?”

You struggled to contain your delight at the suggestion. “Yes Eddie, I would really love that.” You pulled a small notepad from your purse, jotted your number down, and tore the scrap of paper out before handing it over. “Don’t lose this.”

Eddie had the fleeting thought that he would have your digits tattooed on his flesh to ensure their permanence. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Ted honked the horn, even though you were all standing right there.

“Okay, well I have to go. Call me tomorrow?”

Eddie nodded, his throat suddenly gone dry. “I will.”

As you sat down and closed the car door behind you, Ted wasted no time pulling away.  You twisted around in the seat to watch Eddie grow smaller as the distance increased. He raised a hand and waved shortly before you went around a bend, causing you to lose sight of him.

The temporary high of seeing Eddie was quickly supplanted by sadness. It was going to be a very long wait for next summer.

June 1991

Once you were clear of the train platform, your rolling suitcase and duffle bag appropriately situated, you bolted through the crowd as quickly as possible.

Nine long months you waited. Nine months of speaking on the phone for hours nearly every night, talking about everything, watching movies together, helping Eddie write his next D&D campaign, discussing books. You shared hopes, dreams, wishes, and desires. Nine months of longing. Nine months of imagining his lips on yours, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs, picturing him doing things to you that you’d never done with anyone before. You were tired of waiting.

You never officially declared yourselves to each other, still hadn’t even kissed, so you couldn’t be completely sure that he felt the same way. But you had a pretty good idea; after all, would a guy spend that much time on the phone with you if he didn’t feel some kind of way? He said he was going to pick you up at the train station after all, so that had to count for something.

You were determined. Eddie would not slip through your fingers; this summer was going to change everything.

And there he was. As you entered the terminal with the other passengers, you spotted him immediately.  He was leaning up against the wall, torn tight jeans and black band tee, long chestnut curls cascading around his shoulders. He was beautiful. 

The way his face lit up when he spotted you could probably heal the world, if you could find a way to harness it. 

You let your bags drop to the ground as you ran to him, and he opened his arms to you as you collided with him, slamming him back against the wall. His arms slid up around your back and gripped you tightly, his breath fanned across one ear, setting all your senses alight, and you simply resided in his embrace and felt the object of your affection absolutely envelop you. Oh how you had waited for this.

You pulled away just enough to look at his face. He was undeniably very happy, eyes bright, smiling broadly, his dimple making itself known.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hi you,” you replied.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I've been counting the minutes,” you said. You thought maybe you were going to cry.

“Try seconds,” he whispered, opening his eyes wide as if he was revealing a scandalous secret. 

The rest of the bustling train station faded away. The voices and echoes were reduced to a muffled din, and all the people who hastened past you became less corporeal. As your eyes roamed his face, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

He blinked and pulled away, and as soon as it started, the spell was broken.

He hastened over to your bags and grabbed hold of them, slinging your duffel over his shoulder and taking your rollbag in one hand. “Let’s go,” he said with a look over his shoulder, his hair bouncing as he hurried through the terminal with you in tow.  He slowed as he approached the doors to outside. “Uh, I’ll take you to the Wheeler’s to settle in, but I wondered…” He paused, his expression belying his own lack of confidence. He looked almost shy.  “I got an apartment about a month back, finally…a space of my own,” he continued. “I wondered if maybe you wanted to watch a movie later?”

“Eddie!” you breathed, excited. “That’s so great! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said with a small shrug. “No pressure, if you don’t want to. I just wanted to put it out there, no strings attached.”

“I would love to,” you beamed. 

“Do you want to know what movie I picked out?” Eddie asked.

“I really don’t care,” you replied, and you laughed together as you walked to the parking lot.

You waited anxiously for Eddie’s arrival later that evening.

“It’s a daaaate!” Mike sang as if he was still fourteen and not a freshman in college. Nancy slapped him on the arm.

“Don’t tease,” she admonished, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

“It is not a date!” you countered as you checked your reflection for the thousandth time. “Doesn’t someone have to say it’s a date for it to actually be a date?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Some things are just sort of….assumed.”

You and Nancy glared at him in tandem. “Uh, no thank you. Nobody should make assumptions about anything like that,” Nancy scolded.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I mean, what if he just thinks I’m a great friend, and I go and spoil everything going in there thinking this is a date?”

Mike gestured toward you as you touched up your lip gloss. “Says the chick who has been fussing over her appearance obsessively for the last 45 minutes.”

“I’m just being prepared,” you said.

“For what?” Nancy said with a chuckle.

“Just in case it is a date. I never said I didn’t want it to be.”

Nancy laughed as Mike groaned in exasperation. Fortunately, you were saved from further discussion by the doorbell. You ran from the room before anyone could stop you, grabbing your shoulder bag on the way. 

You opened the door and revealed a slightly nervous looking Eddie, and he nearly stole your breath away.

Eddie was resplendent in a blue and black plaid button-up shirt with his black jeans and black converse sneakers. He had clearly made an effort to tame his hair, and his waves were soft and tidy. His breath caught when he saw you.

“H– hi,” he said with a grin.

“Hi yourself,” you said. You chanced a look over your shoulder, fearful of an audience. “Okay let’s go before Mike and Nancy get weird and interrogate us,” you said, grabbing Eddie by the hand and making him laugh while shutting the door behind you.  Eddie held his van door open for you before walking around the other side and starting up the engine. Was that aftershave he was wearing?

Butterflies exploded in your chest. Oh my god, this is a date, you thought to yourself elatedly.

Eddie’s place was nice, simple, and clean. He didn’t have much in the way of furniture or decor yet, but he had the basics, and it was all his.

You were halfway through Goodfellas– which was really good– and sipping on bud light bottles on opposite ends of the couch.  You were sitting with your legs curled underneath you, your left foot sticking out along the couch cushion.  Eddie reached over and gently laid a hand on your ankle, pulling your attention away from the film.

“I’m gonna grab another beer. You want anything?”

“Sure, you want me to pause it?”

“Nah, I’ve seen this twice already,” he said as he headed to the kitchen.

“Eddie!” you said, smiling. “Why didn’t you rent something you’ve never seen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he called. “I love this movie.”

You picked up the remote and paused the film anyway.

“But it just came out on VHS!” you said, laughing. "How have you seen it multiple times already?"

He returned with two freshly opened beers and handed one to you. He sat down again, a little closer this time.

“What– you don’t watch movies over and over again every chance you get? Is that…like….not normal or something?” He smirked at his own sarcasm.

“Not that quickly I’m afraid,” you said, and he laughed out loud. 

“I guess I’m a bit of a fixator,” he said. “I fixate on things.”

“I suppose we all have things we fixate on,” you said.

“What do you fixate on?” He asked. He was leaning slightly in your direction. It made your heart speed up a little bit.

“Well lately,” you said, drawing out your syllables and pretending to think really hard about it. “Lately it’s been this guy.”

“Oooh,” Eddie said. “Tell me more.”

“Well, he looks a little rough around the edges, but it turns out that he’s the sweetest.”

“He is?” Eddie played along.

“Oh yes. And he has the biggest, most soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s like he’s always seeing the world in new and interesting ways. And don’t get me started on his lips…”

“What about his lips?” Eddie asked.

“They’re so full and plump, like fruit, and I want to nibble on them.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh. “You want to nibble on his lips?”

“Among other things,” you said, a little breathily.

As your eyes flicked down to his lips, he licked them unconsciously, and you knew everything was about to change.

Eddie leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and he raised his right hand to cup the back of your head, pulling you forward. You felt his breath fan across your cheek as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“What other things did you have in mind?” he murmured.

“I want him,” you said simply. “But I don’t know how he feels.”

“Hmm,” Eddie cooed. “I think it’s safe to say he wants you too.”

“He does?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed, and then he kissed you.

Your breathing hitched– it was finally happening.

You enjoyed the simple feeling of his beautiful lips against yours for a moment before you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. You slotted his bottom lip between your teeth and applied gentle pressure. Eddie’s quiet gasp did things to you.

You chuckled, and rose up on your knees before pressing your body firmly against his, the movie now forgotten.

Eddie broke away, beaming. “I thought you probably felt the same way, but I wasn’t sure, and I was afraid to make a move and fuck it all up–”

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you said.

He did as he was told. He also dialed up the passion, and you kissed each other hungrily, pouring nine months of longing into your efforts. Your tongues danced together, your hands roamed the expanse of his back, and you slid one hand up and under his shirt to feel his flesh.

Eddie gasped at your touch, and pulled away. His pupils were blown wide from the excitement, and you imagined that yours might look the same. He cupped the side of your face in his hands, boring his eyes into yours.

“Are we together? Are you mine?” he asked, and your heart broke and soared with equal measure at the sheer sweet earnestness of him.

“Yes, Eddie,” was all you could muster before he was kissing you again. He tipped you back and gently laid you down across the sofa, allowing his hand to travel up the length of your torso, keeping things chaste, but only barely.

You laid together and kissed deeply for a time, until you decided you’d had enough.

“Eddie,” you said.  “T– take me to bed.” 

“Are you sure? That’s really what you want?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t hide your nerves, and he gently pinched your chin to tilt your head up. “You seem anxious,” he said softly.

“Well, I – I haven’t actually done it before.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly.

“I’ve done some stuff, a little hand stuff mostly, but never, uh– it. Sex. I’ve never had sex.”

Eddie smiled affectionately at your display of nerves. “Relax, babe. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

“But I am ready,” you said, more assuredly.  “I really want to do this with you. I want you to be my first.”

Eddie searched your face for any further signs of nervousness or unease, but all he saw in your eyes now was conviction and honestly. You reached up a hand and laid it on his cheek.

“Nine months I’ve waited for this. I knew a long time ago that you were the one, Eddie. I’ve waited long enough.’

Eddie nodded. “Okay,” he said softly.

He moved to stand and gently scooped you up in his arms, making you giggle, and he carried you over to the bedroom. He kicked the door open with his foot, making you laugh some more, and laid you on his bed, which was clean if unmade. He leaned down and braced himself on either side of your body to kiss you.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me,” he said between kisses, and then stood back up to pull his shirt over his head. He did it in one fluid motion, letting his soft curls dance across his shoulders and back, and he was a sight to behold. You’d seen him with no shirt on last summer when he took you swimming, but somehow this was different.

“May I?” he asked, and paused with his fingers above the fly of your denim shorts. You nodded, and let Eddie loosen the buttons before pulling your shorts down along your legs and tossing them aside.

You smiled up at him as he loosened his own jeans and pushed them down before stepping out of them, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers. He returned to the bed and laid next to you, gently trailing one palm up your body and pushing up your shirt, resting it at the bottom of your ribcage just below the underwire of your bra. Eddie resumed kissing you; it was something you were quite sure you would never tire of. He was amazing.

After a beat he pulled away to look down at you. “I need to get you ready,” he said softly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“Okay Eddie,” you replied.  He pulled your shirt over your head gently, and then moved one hand to your back to unclasp your bra. 

“You seem to have some experience with this,” you said, feeling a stab of self-consciousness.

Eddie paused. “A little. I’m not a virgin, but I’m hardly a Casanova or anything…”

“It’s okay, I don’t need to know.” you looked away. 

Eddie was not pleased with the loss of eye-contact, and he could sense your discomfort. 

“Hey,” he said softly, turning your face to his. “It’s only been a couple different girls. I really haven’t had much action for a guy my age, trust me. And nothing serious, ever.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re special. I want this– I want it to be special.”

You relaxed and smiled. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.”

“Okay then.”

He pulled your loosened bra off, leaving you in only your knickers. “If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

Your answering smile was cut short as he bent and placed a kiss on your nipple. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, before he sucked the little bud between his lips, setting all your senses alight. 

“Oh–that feels nice.” you sighed.

As Eddie suckled you, he slowly trailed his hand down the length of your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He paused at the elastic of your underwear, slipping one finger just under the thin white band, but continued no further. 

“You can– ah– you can touch me Eddie,” you managed between gasps.

With no further preamble, he slowly slid his hand into the delicate cotton, and his fingers found your heat. He removed his mouth from your nipple, leaving it feeling cool and bereft, before kissing you lasciviously as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped, but as quickly as he had entered, he was gone again. He dipped in smoothly a second time, but then turned his attention to your clit, applying gentle pressure and circling it with his moistened finger.

You arched your back and moaned at the sensation. Your senses were heightened, your heart was racing, and you couldn’t believe that you were here, with Eddie, after all this time. You were delighted; you’d waited so long for this, and you were going to enjoy it.

Eddie slowly picked up the pace and pressure of his ministrations. You felt as if all the blood in your body was rushing to the space between your legs, and your body began to tremble. It felt good– damn good. You could hear the wet sounds of your arousal as his fingers picked up speed, and then, without warning, he slid one back inside of you. You moaned as he pumped you with one finger, sliding out, stroking the sensitive button of nerves, pushing back in. You were teetering on the edge of climax when, suddenly, he stopped. 

“Wha–” you said blearily, as Eddie padded over to his nightstand. 

“I’m just grabbing a rubber babe,” Eddie smiled, as he pulled open the drawer and held up a foil square.

“Ah, right.”

“Just want to be careful, ya know?” 

“Of course.”

Eddie paused to look at you, his face painted with adoration and concern. “You sure you’re still okay with this?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yeah, yes.”

Eddie looked angelic. Flushed with desire, his hair slightly mussed, lips reddened from kissing, his boxers tented by his arousal. He walked around the bed to stand at the end, and he gently pulled your underwear off, leaving you fully exposed for the first time. You had to fight to resist the urge to curl into yourself protectively. You weren’t the only naked one for long, however, as Eddie pushed his boxers down, and you were able to see all of him for the first time.

He was beautiful. He was perfect.

He deftly rolled the rubber along his length before he laid down next to you, and let his fingers return to your heat. He leaned down and kissed your neck while he worked you open, this time with two fingers. He slid them inside as he kissed your lips and licked into your mouth, and then he gently climbed on top, allowing you to rest your calves around his hips.

You felt his tip prod your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he breathed into your ear.

“Yes,” you said, and he captured your earlobe with his teeth as he slowly started to push in.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried softly. It felt like white fire had ignited where you were joined and traveled up your body, settling behind your eyes, and a kaleidoscope of sparks clouded your vision. You squeezed your eyes shut and ground your teeth together as you moaned through the sensation. It hurt, but it was a sort of pain you’d never felt before.

“God, babe,” Eddie gasped as another shallow, gentle thrust pulled him deeper. “This okay?”

It wasn’t okay exactly, it stung like hell, but it was okay because this was Eddie, and there was nobody else on the planet you were willing to experience this with.

“Uhhuh, yeah,” you panted. “I’m okay.”

Eddie sat back on his heels and grasped your thighs with his hands, pulling you flush against him and seating himself fully inside of you. His eyes met yours and he smiled at you adoringly as he began to move.

You moaned in sweet agony as each thrust ignited new fires within you, but before you realized what was happening, the pain began to give way to intense pleasure. Your gasps of pain grew to cries of ecstasy, and Eddie could feel you yield to him, could feel the resistance temper, and he delighted in watching the change come over you. White fire was replaced by pure bliss.

He lifted your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, and picked up his pace. 

Eddie hugged your legs to his chest as he pumped, every thrust hitting deep, the mingled gasps and cries of your lovemaking growing in volume and timbre. You reached out a hand to touch his chest, but he was too far away. Eddie noticed this, and he released your legs to lean forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your shoulders, and he kissed you. It was damn hot, the passion of it all, making out so intensely that your teeth clattered together as he fucked you, all of your senses heightened and electrified.

You scratched at his back as your felt your climax building, causing his own pace to falter. Your cries of delight as you came caused his own orgasm to crash into him suddenly, and you both moaned as you rode it out together.

And then all was still.

You breathed together as you came down from the intense sensations you had just experienced, and you could feel Eddie’s heart beating in its cage, his chest pressed against yours. He could feel yours too.

After a moment, he got up, discarded the used condom, and slipped on his boxers, smiling down at your prone, naked body as he did so. “Was that okay? It didn’t hurt too much?”

You thought for a second. “It did hurt at first, that probably can’t be helped. But after a little while, it felt really good. Was I– was I any good?”

Eddie beamed. “Oh babe. You don’t have to ever worry about that. It was incredible.”  He headed to the bathroom, and returned shortly with a damp washcloth. He sat beside you and gently tended to your sore, sensitive area. The cool terrycloth was soothing, and he peppered your face with kisses, making you giggle. He tossed the washcloth aside and laid down with you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

“Do you want to stay here with me? You can, if you want,” Eddie murmured into your hair. He sounded sleepy.

“Eddie, I want to be wherever you are,” you replied. You were feeling quite drowsy yourself.

“I don’t want the Wheelers to think I kidnapped you,” he said with a small chuckle.

“They know where I am, and we’re all adults, so I’m staying put.”

Eddie grinned. You had no way of knowing what was happening in his heart, but he wished he could transfer part of his joy to you, so you could feel even a fraction of his elation.

Eddie had no way of knowing that you were feeling exactly the same way. He also had no way of knowing that you were planning to transfer to Indiana State in the fall. In time, you would share your hearts fully with each other, but for the moment, you enjoyed just laying in his arms, and drifting off into blissful slumber.

Together. ♥

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MASTERLIST

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

talk | myg | nyangnyang au

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your husband Min Yoongi declares that he needs to be more of a whore. Nyan?!

warnings: discussion about sex life; husband!Yoongi x wife!reader with their pet white cat Nyangnyang; heavy make-out session; domestic + fluffy; nyangnyang!au but can be read alone tbh it's just a husband and wife chatting about their sex life + the antics of their peanut gallery lol

--

You didn’t quite believe in soulmates or fate, but you were sure that Min Yoongi was the love of your life.

“I think I need to be more of a whore.”

Precisely why.

Wait, what?

You looked up from wiping down the coffee table and stared at him.

“What?”

“Nyan.”

Your husband was sitting on the sofa. An attempt to rest, except the furball you both affectionately called cutie had immediately rocketed into his lap and began rolling around, loudly demanding pets and leaving white fur all over your husband’s black sweatpants. Nyangnyang the cat had zero concept of personal space. Your husband had a problem with saying no to those he loved. Her head was in his large palm as the other rubbed her belly. White fur was getting everywhere. Loud purrs punctuated the silence.

“Do you think our sex life is boring?” was Yoongi’s follow-up on his previous declaration.

You folded up the polishing cloth and left it on the glass table, figuring this was going to be more than a yes-or-no conversation. Strands of black hair fell past his temples, framing his black metal glasses and sharp dark brown eyes. He looked at you with a calm expression as if he was talking about the weather and not about how he thought he needed to be more of a whore.

You paused. “I don’t think so, but I figured the slowdown was because you worked on that important album. You said it was very emotionally draining.” Your husband was a music producer. He wasn’t allowed to talk about what he was working on, which was why he told his wife everything. Hey, his primary loyalty was to his wife. That and you weren’t going to tell a soul anyway. That would require social interaction. Ew. “You’ve been sleeping a lot and watching TV all day even after you wrapped it up.”

Nyangnyang rolled around and covered Yoongi’s thighs with more snow-white cat hair. You used to keep a lint roller in the living room until Yoongi realized the cat had been knocking it down and licking the sticky paper like an adhesive heathen. Then you switched to other types of lint-and-fur collectors. The cat still licked the tacky parts. Sigh. Now they had to be kept in the closet. You and Yoongi just accepted that you both would be covered in cat hair twenty-four-seven.

Welp.

He accepted the fluffy tail smacking his stomach and scratched behind Nyangnyang’s ears while watching you carefully. At least his baggy t-shirt was white. You stayed kneeling on the floor, curiously tilting your head, positioned on the other side of the smoked glass and black marble coffee table.

Finally, Yoongi sighed. “I think I need to try harder. I’m feeling outdone by you lately.”

You frowned. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

For some reason, the cat stood up, circling Yoongi’s lap again before flopping down. You noticed his pale hand hover over his nuts before Nyangnyang threw herself down again with a dramatic princess floof. You could relate.

Heh.

His eye twitched. “Watch it,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

The cat gave no fucks and shoved her pink nose into Yoongi’s palm.

“What about last night?” you continued. “You came four times. Your dick felt great.”

Your husband gave you the side-eye. “You know, there’s a person attached to this dick.”

You grinned.

He scoffed. “Just because you were into the dick doesn’t mean you were into me.”

Your grin disappeared. “What are you talking about? I only think about you during sex. There’s no one else I want to think about.”

But as soon as the words came out of your mouth, you could tell that wasn’t what Yoongi was getting at. He stuck his tongue into his cheek and his brows furrowed, glancing away for a moment to collect his thoughts. His hand on the cat’s belly stopped. Nyangnyang, being a little shit, kicked his wrist with her back paws. His hand started moving again without looking. The furball went back to purring up a storm. Your husband winced and tried not to show it. Despite his longer, lustrous hair and slender frame, Min Yoongi was a manly man at heart that enjoyed woodworking, basketball, and UFC as much as he enjoyed music, fashion, and picking out aesthetic living room pillows.

“I’ve been relying a little too much on you being sexy and leading everything without contributing myself,” he finally said, sounding a bit rueful in his deep and raspy voice.

You heavily restrained chiming in that all he needed to contribute was an open mouth and a hard dick. Good commentary, wrong timing. It was pretty clear what he was saying and it was pretty clear that you should shut up for now and listen.

Difficult for a smartass, but you’d manage.

“I don’t feel that you’re having the same experience I am. Just because you like being in charge doesn’t mean I should step back,” he went on, verbally working through his thought process and letting you in on it. You were a bit surprised hearing those words, as it was word-for-word something you mentioned before, although that was years ago when something similar happened. It had been you to bring it up then. He listens, huh. Yoongi ticked his head, his glasses reflecting light. “I feel I’ve gotten a little lazy. And, with it, been too in my head recently. I don’t like this feeling. I’m not performing well. I need to be more into it.”

It was a first for him to be so direct about this. Usually, you would bring it up for some reason or the other. He was always willing to talk about it, but, well. You had always had a more… intense… libido compared to Yoongi and, although some would argue it was a good problem to have, he often had to rise to the occasion (pun intended). Something he wanted to do and did so without hesitation, but that also meant that he was more sensitive to his own intrusive thoughts whereas you were too absorbed with fucking to notice any. Sex was when you were free, yet Yoongi had reasonable worries that interfered sometimes. You had sensed the tension last night and figured some fucking would help relax him. But it turned out the issue related to sex itself. Welp. Still, it was nice to hear him communicate with you.

“So… how would being a whore help?” you asked.

Another bombastic side-eye. “I meant being more actively involved into the sex. Acting like one.”

You raised an eyebrow with a straight face even though you were cackling inside. “Do you even know how to act like a whore? You’ve never been slutty in your entire life.” Added a little dismissive hand wave with your act. Just to be extra infuriating. “You think acting like a slut is so easy? Darling, being a whore is a way of life.”

Yoongi stared at you.

Blank expression.

“You’re so freaking annoying.”

The tip of your tongue grazed the edge of your smirk.

“Naow…”

Your husband rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Hot. Nyangnyang seemed to sense the kind of tension a cat wanted no part of and promptly abandoned Yoongi’s lap, marching off to laze somewhere else. Not that her parents noticed because they were too busy making googly eyes at each other.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Time of day never stopped a whore,” you countered.

His expression was a mix between pained and irritated. Perfect. Heavy sigh, halfway lifting himself off the couch before you started laughing, breaking the tension.

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled, flippant, standing up as well. “Have you gotten a little lazy? Hmm, maybe. But maybe I’ve been overbearing too, since all I think about is enjoying your dick until I’m worn out. I probably shouldn’t go that far, hah… Yoongi?”

He grabbed your wrist.

You paused, fixating your gaze on him. His direct stare. Dark eyes shadowed behind clear lenses. Gleaming porcelain skin. You were both in casual clothes for lounging at home. Your lavender sweatpants with a matching crop top weren’t exactly screaming sex. But, of course, you would confess that you always made sure to cress cutely for yourself.

You frowned. “We haven’t showered yet.”

He shrugged. He had reasonably broad shoulders for such a pretty face. Fucking sexy as hell. You were allowed to think that because you were his wife. “You don’t have to go down on me.” Then he let go of your wrist to reach behind your head and tilt it back, the base of your skull against the heel of his palm.

“What?”

Then you sucked in a tight breath as you felt the tip of his hot tongue slide up your neck.

His warm breath spread over your skin, sending a wave of chills throughout your chest.

“Didn’t you tell me sex is more than just the orgasm?” he murmured, heating the saliva clinging to your throat. “I completely agree.”

Under normal circumstances you would have had the smartass comment ready, was this the right situation to admit that the wife was always right, but you didn’t even have a chance to glance at him before his lips started feathering up the side of your neck, his deft hands in your hair, licking, kissing, his familiar scent invading your nose, his soft black hair against your cheek, every action tantalizing your senses.

It was then that you realized, yes, you did miss this.

As a married couple that lived together, you both had the luxury of skipping steps. You could get into the action any time and that was exciting in its own right. You also had the natural tendency to immediately get into it, using everything in your arsenal all at once. Speed, accuracy, precision, multiple sensations all over, forcing all of your past lovers to chase to keep up with you and not giving them time to react or prepare themselves. There wasn’t much time to pull on the leash, so to speak.

A whore always wanted to have sex, right?

So, acting like one meant…

Your hands slipped under his t-shirt and pulled him closer by the small of his back.

His teeth nicked the space under your ear and you shivered before moaning, feeling the tingling sensation of sucking skin and soft lips. It really was delightfully pleasant to be caught off guard by your favorite person.

“You… You’re saying I act like a whore…?” you gasped, still playing around.

His lips grazed your ear. Voice low, direct.

“You’d be one if I didn’t catch you and shackle you with a ring.”

Touché.

“What’s wrong with that?” you bit back.

He moved his head and you gazed at each other with one eye, lashes framing dark orbs that were the window to knowing each other far too well.

“Nothing. That’s why I’m trying to be more like you,” Yoongi purred.

Your lower halves collided. Layers of clothing and heated friction, his hardness pressing against your thighs, and then his lips caught yours in a fervent kiss. No different in the level of passion but you could tell he was different from last night. More mindful depth. Only focused on the moment. Tongue against tongue. His hands all over, sliding up into your hair and down your shoulder, gasping into your throat as your fingernails turned inward, scratching down his back mid lip-lock.

“Nyao!”

There was a flurry of wild flailing sounds and then a thud.

You both stopped kissing to stare into the bedroom. The door was open, as it usually was. A whizzing snow-white blur shot out of sight. The bed was partially visible from this angle. The right lower corner of the covers was messy and pulled out. You stared at it, trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened, still clutching your husband in your death grasp.

You blinked slowly.

“Nyangnyang, did you…”

“… Fail to jump onto the bed?” Yoongi finished for you with just as much disbelief in his voice.

Absolute silence.

“Hasn’t she made that jump hundreds of times?” you wondered out loud.

Yoongi grumbled. You turned your head back. He shrugged.

“Maybe it’s a sign to move to the bed.”

Hmmmm. You didn’t miss the want in his otherwise bland tone. “Why rush?” You let go of him even though your husband’s eyes were narrowing to death glare status. “It’s the weekend. We have all day. Besides, the rice will be done soon, so we should eat lunch.” As a very devious wife, you could tell Yoongi did not want to play this game but he also wanted you to give in first. He kept a firm hand on your waist.

“Hm, you’re right.”

“Yup,” was your chipper reply.

He gave you this look.

You grinned. Waved your finger as you chided him. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you dessert is after your meal? You can’t spoil your appetite with suga beforehand.” You bared the brunt of a criminally offensive side-eye. Worth it.

Then, Yoongi smiled.

Uh oh.

You had been with Yoongi long enough to know that behind that simple smile was a lot of cunning.

“But of course, my love.”

Well, a lazy Saturday just got a lot more interesting.

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[reigningqueenofwords]

Chevy Girl

Pairing: John x Reader Word count: 1,967 Warnings: Oral, unprotected sex

Read on AO3

Feeling the Impala stop, you shifted in your seat. Sam and Dean were back at the motel, one sick, the other doing research. That left you to go on the hunt with John. Alone. There was just one or two problems. First? He was ruggedly handsome. You wanted to reach out and run your fingers through his scruff. His smile sent a warm feeling over your whole body. And his voice? You could listen to him talk about just about anything. Next? The Impala. You were a Chevy girl, and she was gorgeous. She was well maintained, and smelled like John. The first time you laid eyes on her, you bit your lip.

“Y/N.” You heard John say, before chuckling. “I know you’re awake, baby girl.” It was hard to hold back the moan that wanted to escape your mouth. God, did he know what that did to you?

Sighing, you sat up and stretched. John did his best not to make it obvious that he was very aware of how womanly you’d become since you’d joined him and his boys. When he first saw you, you were a lanky seventeen-year-old. You were a late bloomer. Now here you were, twenty, and he could only imagine what it would feel like to have you around him. “What’s up?” You asked, completely oblivious to the older man’s thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “Flat tire.” He shrugged. “Not like I keep a spare in the trunk with all our gear.” You looked outside, and realized that you’d must have dozed off awhile ago. It was dark. “It’s too late to call the boys, so we might as well stay here for the night.”

You shrugged. “Okay.” He looked at you, surprised that you actually agreed. “You can crash if you want, I’m going to stretch my legs.” With that, you got out and stretched again, shutting the door with your hip. There was a nip in the air that seemed to go right through your thin long sleeved shirt. Shoving your hands in your pockets, you walked towards the edge of the woods. It was so creepy. Far creepier than the things that went bump in the night. Those you could handle, because you knew about them. You knew how to kill them, how to weaken them. Here? There could be anything in those woods. And you had no clue.

John licked his lips, watching you for a moment. The breeze blew your Y/H/C around a bit, making you pull it over your left shoulder. When you looked around, he caught a glimpse of your profile and smiled. Sighing, he slipped out of the car and walked to where you were. He saw you shiver slightly and pulled off his jacket, slipping it over your shoulders.

You looked over at him and smiled. “Thanks.” Pushing your arms through the sleeves, you fought the urge to inhale deeply. You wrapped your arms around yourself, your gaze turning back to the trees. The two of you stood there  in silence for some time before either of you spoke. “I hope they aren’t too worried.” You thought out loud.

“Dean’s probably passed out with so much cold medicine that we’ll be old before he gets up, and Sam’s probably nose deep in a book.” He smirked. You laughed, your cheeks pink from the cold breeze. “Come on, we should get back in the car.”

“I’m fine, you can go. It’s peaceful out here.” You told him. “We don’t get much of that.” Your voice was quiet.

He nodded, knowing what you meant. “Why not lay on the hood? I’m sure it’s cool enough it won’t burn you, but warm enough to be better than just standing here.” He suggested.

You bit your lip and glanced at him. “Only if you do, too.”  You smiled at him, your eyes shimmering in the moonlight. Without waiting for an answer, you turned and walked over to the Impala. You pulled off his jacket once you were on the hood and used it as more of a blanket. Leaning back, you looked up at the sky, looking for pictures in the stars.

John followed. Laying on the hood of his car wasn’t something that he was used to doing. However, there he was, climbing up to lay next to you. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.” He admitted.

Chuckling, you nodded. “Yeah, you don’t seem to be the type.”

“What type?”

“To stop and enjoy things. You’re all about the hunt. You eat, sleep, and breath everything about killing monsters.” You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, daring him to tell you otherwise.

John laughed. An actual laugh. Which was a first. Normally, it didn’t seem real. Sure, you’d seen him happy plenty of times, but his laughs seemed almost broken? You could never figure it out. Until now. Your heart was fluttering at the sound. It was a nice sound to hear. “I do know how to do other things, ya know?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

Your cheeks turned a darker pink, and you were thankful that it was fairly hard to tell. You were trying to think of a come back when he was above you. He was smirking down at you, his hands on both sides of you. “L-like?” Your eyes shot to his lips for a moment, licking your own.

His eyes darkened slightly as he leaned in closer. Your noses were nearly touching when he stopped, making your heart race, and your core ache. “How about I show you, baby girl?” His voice was low, and made you rub your thighs together. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice. In the next breath, his lips were on yours. The scruff on his face that you had so badly wanted to touch was rubbing on your face. Your hands moved from under the jacket, wrapping around his neck. The kiss went from experimental, to needy. You moaned against him, needing more.

John moved to your neck, your eyes closing in bliss. “John, please!” You didn’t think you could last much longer.

He chuckled against your skin. “Please what?” He nipped you.

“Please touch me!” You begged.

“You didn’t say the magic word, sweetheart.” He kept up his attach on your flesh.

You were going crazy with want, trying to figure out what word he could possibly want. And then he growled, and you knew. “Please, sir! Please touch me.” He rolled his hips, letting you feel how hard he was for you.

He smiled. “There you go.” His hand moved under your shirt, the warmth of his hand leaving a trail of desire. When his fingers reached your nipples, he pinched them through the lace of your bra. Your back arched slightly. He palmed your breast roughly as he slowly moved down your body. When he reached your stomach, he pushed your shirt up, giving him access to your skin. He nipped right below your belly button. You gasped, knowing that you were about to have the best time of you life. On some back road, with a man at least twice your age, because of a flat tire. If there was a God, you had to thank him for this.

His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of your jeans. You looked down to see a devious smirk on his face. Before you could fathom what the hunter hand in mind, he pulled your pants, and underwear, from your body. A cool breeze made you gasp. John looked like a hunter, and you were the prey. “Spread those pretty legs for me.” His hands rubbed up your calves as you did as he asked. You were exposed to him, which only added to the thrill. He moved so that his face was level with your dripping cunt.  "You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured this.“ He growled before licking your juices up.

Moaning, your hand moved to his hair. It was like you had electricity flowing through your veins. John went after your pussy like a starving man. It didn’t take him long to have you squirming, your toes curling. You didn’t control your volume, knowing that there was no one around. John smiled as he worked, loving hearing you whimper, moan, and beg. Slipping two fingers into your channel, he curled them. ”Fuck!“ You gasped. “John! I’m-I’m– Oh, sir!” You clenched around his fingers, holding his hair in a firm grim.

As he stood up, you were breathing heavy. He licked his lips, and then his fingers, your eyes trailing down his body, landing on the bulge in his pants. “Another time, baby girl.” He promised you. “Down.” He motioned for you to slide off the hood.

You did as you were told, standing in front of him. “How do you want me, sir?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Turn that ass around.” He smirked. You turned, and felt his hand between your shoulders. He pressed gently, his other hand massaging your ass. Once you were completely bent over, he moved your feet apart a bit more. “Now, that’s a fucking view.” He moaned while undoing his belt buckle. You heard the tell tale sounds of his pants being undone, and pushed down. He stopped them at his thighs, wanting to be inside you. “You ready for me?” He asked, not wanting to push you to somewhere you weren’t comfortable.

“Please, fuck me, sir!” You begged, feeling way too empty for your liking. Wiggling your ass at him, you gasped when his handed landed on your bare skin.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back on him. You moaned as he bottomed out. “Fuck, baby girl.” He groaned. Pulling back, he thrust back in.  There was nothing for you to hang on to as he relentlessly pounded into you.

You gasped, your head touching the metal of the Impala’s hood. “Sir!” You called out, so close to coming.

“Touch yourself.” He ordered. Your hand moved between your legs, rubbing your clit.

You felt that coil in your stomach snap. “Fuck, sir! JOHN!” You screamed his name, your walls tightening on his cock.

His thrusts became more shallow as he neared his own release. “Y/N!” He groaned, filling you. “Shit, baby girl.” He chuckled, playfully slapping your ass and pulling out. “Shoulda done that sooner.”

Straightening up, you groaned. You’d be sore tomorrow. So worth it, though. So worth it. You grabbed your underwear and pants, pulling them back on. “You’re right. You eat, sleep, breath, and fuck hunting.” You teased.

“I think I’d rather fuck you.” He grinned as the two of you slid into the front seat. You stared at him as he started the car and pulled back onto the road. “What? You think I wanted to fuck you in the motel room next to my boys?” He laughed at how shocked you looked. “That felt damn good, baby girl.”

You licked your lips. “You planned that?” You asked.

John gave you that smirk. “I hoped. I took a chance, and it worked.” He shrugged.

“So, what now?” You looked out the window, realizing that things would be different now.

He glanced at you. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” You admitted.

“Normally things don’t get weird when people start fucking.” He was confused.

You looked at him. “This wasn’t just a one time thing?” You asked, hopeful. He shook his head. “Oh! I thought that…”

John reached over and pulled you close. “Hell no. You think I’m fucking that pretty pussy just once?” Your cheeks turned bright red. “Besides. You’re a sexy, smart, kick ass hunter. Who’s my woman.”

“Yes, sir.” You grinned.

[no-damsel]

Just friends

Warnings: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter three

“Son of a bitch!”

“Stop,” you hiss, smacking Adam’s hand away from your face. “Trust me, I’m fine.”

You had gotten in between two drunken assholes when they started fighting in front of you while you were collecting dirty glasses from tables. You ended up getting punched twice in the face since both men swung at the same time; however, the fight immediately stopped when they realized they’d hit the wrong person.

Two bouncers threw them out, and that was the end of it until Adam got involved. He got riled up, thinking he was going to have both of them thrown in jail.

“Is there a problem here?” Jasper walks into the staff room and says, “I heard there was some kind of altercation.”

“I got caught up in a bar fight; I’m fine.”

Since you were facing Adam, the owner couldn’t see how swollen your eye had become or the blood gushing from your eyebrow.

Adam steps up towards the owner, but before he can say anything, you lightly shove him in the chest, gaining his attention again. “Tommy, I’m fine. Take a walk or go back to work.”

He lowers his head slightly. “I’m sorry, boss, I just hate seeing a woman getting beat on, you know? It sets me off.”

Jasper pats him on the shoulder and says, “I get it.”

At this point, you turn to toss the tissue in your hand into the trash and go to get another one. “I think Angel should go home,” Adam says. “Have you seen her face? It’s a mess.”

“Angel, let me see.”

You turn and look Jasper in the face, and his jaw clenches. You were under no false illusion that he cared for you personally; rather, he cared about how you looked. He makes a tsk sound. “This just won’t do. Princess,” Jasper clicks his fingers at a blonde dancer when she enters the room. “Go and find Gregg for me; tell him I need a word with him. Tommy, go back to work.”

“I’m not excusing him shouting his mouth off.” You top off the whisky in Jasper's glass with your free hand while the other holds ice over your eye. “But one of the dancers told me his dad used to beat on his mom and sister as kids; he was just being protective. Which is more than I can say for the pathetic excuse of bouncers who let a fight like that break out.”

You felt guilty saying that Bob Ruzek was a good man, but you needed a cover story to excuse ‘Tommy’s’ behavior.

“No sweat, baby,” he motions for you to sit beside him. “Have you thought about my offer? More money, fewer late nights.”

“Why did you pick me?”

Jasper chuckles. “You’re the only one in here I trust to have my back.”

Adam and Antonio had been undercover for almost three weeks, and they were so close to making an arrest; they had found the stash house. They now just need to catch him handing the drugs over to his dealers. But now, his newest revelation was something you needed to discuss with Voight as soon as possible.

“Gregg,” Jasper says, standing up.

“The blonde girl said you wanted to see me.”

You hold back a snort. Antonio would go out of his way to call the dancers by their show names; whenever he heard someone being called Princess, Heaven, or Angel, he’d screw his face up.

Jasper pulls multiple twenty-dollar bills out of his pocket and hands them to Antonio. “Take our angel to the emergency room. Make sure they take good care of her.”

“The bleeding has stopped,” Antonio says, tossing the bloodied cotton ball into the trash. “I don’t think it will scar; just leave a nasty cut for a couple of weeks.”

“Thank you.”

Instead of taking you to the emergency room, Antonio took you back to his apartment to clean up your wound. If you went to the hospital, you’d need to use your real name, which could blow the whole operation if Jasper caught wind.

Antonio disappears from his bathroom and reappears moments later, holding a bag of ice in one hand and a hand towel in the other. He says nothing as he places ice on the material, then holds it up to your swollen eye, causing you to flinch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

Your fingers brush against his when you take the ice from him. You felt slightly uncomfortable; Antonio always seems wary of you. As if he’s expecting you to somehow betray him.

He leans back against the wall with his arms crossed. “Do you think Jasper bought the cover story you said about Tommy?”

“I think so. Although Adam looked pretty pissed,”

Antonio motions for you to follow him into the living room. “Can I ask you something? Sorry, gotta take this.”

He walks into a bedroom you presume is his own to answer his mobile and starts talking in Spanish. Every so often, his voice would become louder, so you would assume he was mad at something. You were grateful he cleaned you up but didn’t want to impose, and you would probably leave once his call was finished.

Sitting on the couch, you glance around his apartment and notice the framed pictures on the table. One stands out more than the other; on one side of the frame is a happy-looking young girl surrounded by balloons and banners with the number eighteen on them, and the next one is Antonio standing between the same girl and a young boy with his arms wrapped around them. All three of them were smiling brightly.

Hearing the sound of a door closing, you look up and see Antonio coming out of the bedroom. Before you can say anything, he shoves his phone into his pocket and says, “Sister.”

“Are these your kids?”

He nods.

“They are beautiful.”

He picks up another picture frame and sits down beside you. The kids look younger in this picture, and there is a brunette woman hugging them. “That’s my sister Gabriela, my daughter Eva, and my son Diego.” Smiling, he places the picture back down. “Do you have kids?”

“None biologically, but I’ve been raising my nephew Eli since he was two; he’s just turned seven. The only downside to being undercover is being away from him.”

“Yeah, I get you. When Laura filed for divorce, she took the kids with her, and it killed me. Eva did come and live with me for a while, but she’s now at college, and Diego only stays with me the first two weeks of the month.”

It took you by surprise that he was sharing any personal information with you since you didn’t really know each other.

“Where’s Eli now?”

“In our home with my dad. My dad’s a retired detective; he moved back to Chicago to help me with Eli.” You trace your finger over the thin red bracelet, a friendship bracelet your nephew made. “Is Gabriela your only sister?”

“Just the one sister,” he says. Antonio relaxes his arm over the back of the arm chair. “Gabby is younger than me and is incredibly strong-willed. She is a paramedic firefighter.”

You smile seeing how his face lights up when he talks about her. “Does she work in Chicago too?”

“She did. She moved to Puerto Rico a couple of years ago. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I’m the youngest of three girls. My oldest sister, Cherry, lives in London.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s a sonographer. She moved to England to live with her husband and her stepson.”

“So I’m guessing she’s not Eli’s mom?”

“No, he’s my sister Amber’s son.”

He laughs, “You’re kidding me? Cherry, Amber, and Viola?”

“Yeah, yeah. My mom named us after her favorite colors.”

Antonio senses your change in emotion and, in a lighter tone, says, “So, does Amber live in the city?”

“Amber moved to New York when she was pregnant. She died five years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says sincerely. “Eli is lucky to have you; not everyone is willing to raise a kid; that’s not there.”

Before you can respond, your work mobile vibrates in your pocket. You answer the call and put the phone on loudspeaker. “Hey, I’m guessing you got my voicemail?”

“Yeah, I did. You okay? Adam said you got caught in a fight, and Dawson left with you.”

“I’m fine.”

When Hank doesn’t seem to believe you, Antonio speaks up: “Hank, we are sitting in my apartment; the bleeding has stopped.”

“Okay, good. So what was so urgent?”

You lick at your dry lips, mentally reading yourself to share the information you learned right before the fight.

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and he wants you to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, Angst,Fluff,Eventual Smut,Hurt, Comfort,MMF dynamics. General warnings for each chapter. Anything sensitive will be added to individual chapters.

WK-5.5K

A/N-This starts out angsty but I don’t write sad endings so keep that in mind going forward. Reader has a best friend very near and dear to my heart.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter I

Dave looks over the file on his desk again before he makes the call. He reviewed it the night before and was going to contact the client until he realized not everyone holds the same weird hours as he does. Insomnia. 

  He takes a sip of his coffee as he dials the number with a Florida area code. At least he would get to enjoy some nice weather this time. The last soulmate he tracked down mid winter lived in Buffalo New York, he wasted weeks trying to find him only to find out he was happily married and had no intention of leaving his current wife. The woman who hired him was devastated but…devastated doesn’t pay the bills so she was out twenty grand, and went back to being single a few states over. 

  They don’t always end in misery but he’s used to it now. He wonders why he still does it, maybe helping these people will erase the thought of killing someone’s soulmate when he’s contracted for his other job. He can’t think about that one too much. 

  “Hello Santiago speaking.” Dave glances down at the file once more to be sure. 

  “Ugh yes I’m Dave York calling to reach Francisco Morales?” He hears a low curse on the other end and some apologies. 

  “Oh ya, just give me a second.” He can hear ruffling and the sound of a sliding door. My patience is already wearing thin. 

  “Thanks for returning my call. I’m actually hiring you on behalf of my friend Francisco.” 

  This wouldn’t be the first time he was contracted to find someone’s soulmate because some friend or family member couldn’t keep their nose where it belonged. There would most certainly be drama and resistance. Two things Dave did not handle well. 

  “That’s very generous of you. Is Francisco eager to find his soulmate?” 

  “He ugh…well…yes, yes he is.” Fat chance

  “I would need to meet him of course to go through with this, you understand?” 

  “Of course, that won’t be a problem at all. I sent you the details of when and where we can meet and provided you with the deposit.” At least he means business, either way Dave doesn’t care about the in’s and outs of why people do it. He knows it’s important… or at least he did. 

  He finishes going over the rules with Santiago that will hopefully get relaid to Frankie. He’ll find your soulmate and set up a meeting. If the person does not wish to pursue the relationship he will relay that to you to avoid any in person embarrassment. No stalking or harassment involved. If he can’t find them within 30 days you get your money back. 

  Some people frowned upon what he did. Purists thought you should meet your soulmate organically. They were rarely alone for more than a few years before they found theirs so he didn’t like listening to what they had to say. 

  He wasted years trying to find his love. When he did find her…it was already too late. Those six months were the best and worst of his life. Knowing he’s found his soulmate and gets to spend every waking moment with her only to have it ripped from his grasp. 

  If he had to spend the rest of his tortured life helping others not waste time then he would. 

  ****

  Why the hell did Will make them wear bow ties? This must be Amanda’s suggestion, there’s no way he decided they should all be this uncomfortable on his wedding day. 

  Frankie looks over at Ben and Will having some brotherly talk as if the younger miller has some wise words of advice having been married for all of six months. He loved rubbing it in that he was able to tie the knot before the rest of them of course excluding Tom who got married years ago when they were all in basic. 

  He tries really hard not to be bitter on these days but he can’t help himself. Of course he ran that risk when he married someone who was not his soulmate. He loved Sophia so much it didn’t matter to him. It’s worked out for plenty of other people and it worked for him…until it didn’t. 

  He didn’t try very hard to find his soulmate. Between being in the military, not being able to put down roots for so long and the fact that his soulmate probably hated him for all his scars and tattoos he can’t say he put much of an effort into finding them. 

  The hummingbird tattoo on his wrist practically taunted him his entire marriage. He pretended he didn’t care and so did she. She always told him they would try for kids when she was ready and he never pushed. He thought she was finally ready when she told him they needed to talk. Never in a million years did he expect her to say she found her soulmate and she was leaving him. 

  Their baby boy should be a year old by now, Sophia was pregnant within a month of the divorce being finalized. This was information Santiago insisted despite the others protests that he needed to know so that he could move on. 

  He can’t put the blame all on her. He left for Colombia to bring home money so they could start a family and he came home with nothing but news that her best friend's husband was dead. 

  It must be some kind of fucked up karma that they went back for the money and now he’s alone. If he’s really being honest with himself, he knows they never really loved each other. It was convenient for both of them. Frankie doesn’t like being honest with himself so he'd rather continue on painting her as the villain in his story. 

  “Hermano, you need some help with that tie.” Santiago starts fidgeting before he can even answer no. He slaps his hands away and Santi backs away with his hands up in surrender. 

  “Why are you being so nice?” 

  “I’m always nice.” Frankie scoffs at that. Santiago was never nice unless he wanted something from you. 

  “You picked up my tux, gave me a ride here and now you’re offering to fix my tie?!” He gives him a look and Santi knows it’s only a matter of time. 

  “I have a surprise for you.” He resumes fixing his tie despite Frankie’s protests. 

  “The last time you surprised me someone died.” Santi clears his throat but doesn’t protest, it must be bad. 

  “I hired a PI to find your soulmate.” That last part is rushed out but Frankie hears him clear as day. 

  He shoves him back a few steps which draws the attention of Ben and Will. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

  “Chill out Fish, what’s your problem?” Ben steps between the two of them as Frankie looks as though he could spit fire. 

  “I told him about the PI.” Ben whips around to Santi. 

  “I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow.” Frankie looks over at Will in disbelief. 

  “You fucking knew about this?” He can see it in their eyes and how no one will look at him directly.

  “Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’m getting married in an hour.” 

  Sure he’ll talk tomorrow, they can all talk about staying out of his life and meddling in his business. Pope can call off the PI and they can all go back to being happy with their soulmates and Santiago can go fuck off somewhere in another country as he always does, leaving Frankie to mope alone with his thoughts. 

  “Ya we’ll talk tomorrow.” Ben comes over to fix his tie and Frankie clenches his fists at his side. 

  This is going to be a long day. 

  ****

  The new Mr.& Mrs. Miller do look very in love on the dance floor as Frankie enjoys his second piece of cake. Cake never betrayed him…his ex wife and his best friends maybe but never cake. 

  Ben dips his wife and it sorely reminds him of his wedding day when he and Sophia ended up with calloused feet from dancing all night. 

  His chest tightens at the sight of Molly dancing with her girls. She stayed so strong through it all and she looks so happy, maybe it’s just a front or maybe she’s choosing not to be a miserable sap like him. She lost her soulmate and never once judged them for what they did. She knew how Tom could be. Frankie doesn’t know how someone could treat their soulmate the way Tom treated Molly. He’s better off alone than with a soulmate who doesn’t love him back. 

  Santiago makes his way over to the table and gestures to the seat next to Frankie. He nods his head for him to sit down while he watches the dance floor. They sit in silence for a moment and Frankie thinks about how selfish he is for being so petulant about the whole thing. 

  Santiago never cared about finding his soulmate, maybe because of their line of work or maybe it was the nature of his being. He’ll never forget the look on his face when his tattoo’s disappeared. He told the guys it was fine but they could hear him trying to muffle his cries in his bunk. 

  “I’ll do it Pope.” Santiago looks at him with a mixture of shock and excitement. 

  “I came ready for an argument.” He slides Frankie’s plate closer to him to steal a bite of cake. “We meet him tomorrow.” 

  “Jesus what if I said no?” Frankie slides the plate back to himself, not ready to let go of his precious dessert. 

  “You might want to lay off the cake if you’re going to meet your soulmate soon.” Frankie flips him off as Santi grabs the plate and saunters off to the dance floor. 

  ****

  Dave’s always early to meet a client, but never this early. He couldn’t find a lot of information on Francisco Morales but he did find out he was Delta Force and so was the man that hired him on his behalf. He always met potential clients in a public place of their choosing to get an idea of who they are. There's no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop holds no significance to the two men and will most certainly not help him figure out anything about Francisco. 

  He knows it’s their military training that they will never seem to break free from. It doesn’t make it easy for your soulmate to find you when you're as mysterious as Francisco Morales. No social media, no parking tickets, no convictions. A minor hiccup with his pilot's license but his record was scrubbed clean a few years ago. It takes a lot of money to completely wipe your record. 

  Their trip to Colombia wasn’t as off the books as they thought. With Dave’s connections he can find out a lot more about the average person than they think. It’s true he is paid to find your soulmate but he has a duty to uphold to not put said person in harm's way. Frankie’s sketchy past and interesting finances make him a little wary to just introduce him to the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t know the circumstances behind his wife leaving him and that also has his guard up. Who just up and leaves after 8 years? 

  He pauses his thoughts momentarily as he notices an old Jeep pull into the parking lot of the cafe. He hasn’t seen a Jeep like that in years. His suspicions are correct when two men around his age step out. Still relatively in military shape, the shorter of the two in a black t-shirt much too tight for him and black jeans. The taller one in an open flannel and blue jeans donning a dirty cap and aviators…that must be Francisco. 

  They both survey the area as if it’s their first time here and that confirms his other notion that these men wanted to meet somewhere not near their home. Probably thirty minutes to an hour outside of where they actually live if he would guess. Fifteen minutes early to be safe but still not earlier than him. 

  “I should’ve worn something nicer.” Frankie smooths his hands down the front of his worn flannel as they approach the coffee shop. This was his nice flannel but maybe he could’ve taken an iron to it or something. 

  “Relax hermano, he didn’t bring your soulmate to the meeting.” 

  “You vetted this guy?” Frankie couldn’t find much information on David York, which worried him a little. 

  “As much as I could.” Frankie holds the door open for Santiago as they enter and head straight for the counter. Coffee is much needed after imbibing too much at the wedding. He’s grateful in hindsight that he chose this location just outside of town. 

  “Corner,black suit.” 

  Frankie glances up, hopefully shielded by his sunglasses. “He looks smug.” 

  “Don’t start.” Santi hisses under his breath as he steps up to place their order. “ Two black coffees please.” 

  Best case scenario, this guy finds his soulmate and Frankie can’t even wrap his head around what he would do with that information. It scares him to even think about it. 

  Worst case scenario, Pope is out some money that he didn’t ask him to spend in the first place and he can go back to whatever semblance of a life he was living before all this. 

  Way to be positive Frankie

  ****

  Introductions are awkward to say the least. Frankie and Santi seated at the small cafe table across from Dave who has set a notepad down next to his small coffee. The silence is deafening as he scribbled down a few things after giving them a once over. 

  “So I’m sure you have some questions for me. If you don’t mind holding those until I’ve gone over everything.” He’s not really asking and Frankie already had his hackles up at the grim outlook of the man in front of him. 

  He always hated ‘suits’ . This guy is obviously ex-government and he’s not really sure how someone like him ended up in the line of work of finding someone’s soulmate. Besides the obvious monetary aspect there is a lot of love and emotion involved and the man seated before him doesn’t strike him as the romantic type. 

  “Why did you decide to hire me to find your soulmate?” I didn’t hire you. Frankie looks over at Santiago hoping he’ll help him out a little. 

  “Well ugh…I actually didn’t.” Dave raises his eyebrows at that but lets him continue. “My friend here was kind enough to give me a push in the right direction.” After too many drinks and a lot of talking he reconciled with Santi that this was something he should at least try to pursue. 

  Everything seems pretty straightforward once he starts going over his normal way of doing things. Frankie understands after the initial round of uncomfortable questions that Dave needs to make sure he’s not some weirdo. He opted to return a few peoples initial deposit upon meeting them and not deeming them safe enough or sane enough to track down their soulmate and uproot their lives. 

  Frankie’s thankful he doesn’t pry too much into his reason for divorcing. Dave mostly wanted to make sure that he was not still legally married because he won’t set anyone up for heartbreak. 

  Dave has a thirty day guarantee, if he doesn’t find them in that time frame you get a full refund. Frankie is a little shocked at his confidence. People spend their entire lives trying to find their soulmate and he can somehow guarantee it. 

  “So, now that I’ve gone over all the logistics. Do you have any questions for me?” Frankie looks to Santiago who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this meeting. Maybe out of courtesy for Frankie or perhaps he’s sizing him up. Either way, Frankie really only has one thing he is curious about. 

  “Why do you do it?” 

  Dave takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It’s pretty bad if he’s being honest but he needs a moment. He always needs a moment when this question is brought up. It’s usually one of the only questions he hates answering. Truthfully answering would require to let people in ‘strangers’. 

  These same strangers trust him enough to do this so as uncomfortable as it is he provides enough of an answer to suit both parties. 

  “I hate to say that it pays well, but I have to state the obvious.” For the first time during the meeting Frankie can see his hard exterior crack a little. The first time where he seems nervous and unsure of what he’s going to say. 

  “Also…I wish I had met my wife sooner. I may have had more time with her.” 

  Santiago excuses himself from the table. He doesn’t do well with emotions. Frankie knows that probably stung a little. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Santi never got to meet them or if meeting them briefly makes it all that more painful. 

  “I appreciate your honesty Dave.” He sends him a tight lip smile that doesn’t meet the eyes. 

  “If that’s all you have for me I’ll be in touch in the next few days hopefully with an update.” 

  Frankie shakes his hand, a firm handshake he notes to himself. Dave has a nice build, he’s not sure why he makes a note of that as well. 

  Frankie finished the rest of his coffee and headed outside. Santi leans against the back of the Jeep scrolling idly on his phone. He looks up at him but says nothing as they both get in, Frankie in the driver's seat. 

  “I just needed some air.” Santiago looks out the passenger window seemingly fixated on the passing cars. 

  “I know hermano.” He doesn’t need to say anything more. 

  Neither of them speak for a while, too many thoughts on their minds as they ponder the meeting and what all of it means. Seeing Santiago still struggling with losing his soulmate makes Frankie want to give this his all. 

  ****

  Santi can’t shake the thought of Dave doing all this because he didn’t have enough time with his soulmate. At least he got to spend some time with them. He's lied to himself all these years after his tattoos and scars of his soulmate were long gone. This was not about him though, this is about helping his friend move on and be happy. That’s all he wants for them after the chaos he caused in Colombia. He has to make things right for him. Frankie may not see it as his fault but Santiago can’t help but think maybe Sophia would’ve stayed if things hadn’t gone so poorly. 

  Santiago would never know that things started to sour in their relationship long before that Ill fated trip to steal someone else’s money. 

  Frankie was the one who had it all together. A real job he could be proud of , a wife he loved , a house for their future family. Things quickly fell apart for him after they returned and he was no longer the one that they looked to for guidance. 

  Santiago made it his mission to help Frankie get back on his feet after they went back for the money. Frankie got his license back, he bought a home that didn’t remind him of all his memories with his ex wife, now all he needed to do was find love. 

  Santi rubs his hands across his jeans trying to shake himself from the trance. Frankie eyes him cautiously from the driver’s seat. 

  Santiago leans forward to turn the radio down. “So how are you feeling about all this?” 

  “Considering he has a guarantee, a little better than I felt going in.” 

  He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much but he’s starting to get that feeling like things may be taking a turn for the better. 

  Frankie pulls up to Santi’s house and puts the car in park. 

  “I know what you’re gonna say, I’ll be fine I promise and I’ll call you later after I sleep off this hangover.” Frankie smiles at that,Santiago only lets a select few into his world and he won’t push it any further. 

  “I just want to say thanks Pope. This really means a lot.” Santi waves him off and hops out, he knows how much it means but he’s not gonna get any more emotions out of this day. 

  “Love you hermano, this time next year we’ll be planning your wedding.” Santi calls out over his shoulder before he enters his house. Frankie wants to roll his eyes at that but he secretly hopes that he’s right. 

  ****

  “Alicia! We’re gonna be late.” You stand in your bedroom in front of the floor length mirror putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The modest yellow sundress and strappy heels you bought ages ago are finally getting some use. 

  “I can’t decide on what to wear.” You faintly hear her yell from her bedroom. 

  You’re not particularly excited about this singles event she signed you up for but you certainly didn’t want to walk in late and have all eyes on you. She’s your best friend so you agreed to accompany her on one of her many schemes to get you back on the dating scene. 

  You cross the hall to her room and find a mountain of clothes on her bed and more clothes flying out of her closet. 

  “Let me see what you’re wearing.” She emerges from her closet in a slinky black dress to match her long black hair. She was a bombshell in anything she wore so you aren’t sure what the hold up is. 

  “Alicia that looks hot, wear that.” She gives herself a once over in the mirror as she smooths her hands down the front. 

  “You don’t think this is sending the wrong message?” 

  “Babe you said yourself you need to get laid.” You glance down at the time on your phone. “Shit we’re gonna be really late.”

  “You’re right, I did say that. Thanks for talking me off a ledge.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand as you follow her out of the room. 

  “You’re gonna need to pretend my room is yours if you bring someone home though.” You gesture towards the disaster she left on her bed. 

  She turns to you, grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. “Only a true friend would let me defile her bed for the sake of a hookup.”

  You laugh as you shoo her along out the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

  ****

  The bad news, you were indeed late. The good news is no one seems to notice as you both enter the hotel lounge for the event. Everyone is talking and mingling amongst themselves so you and Alicia have an opportunity to grab a drink and settle in. 

  You haven’t been on a proper date in years so she thought this would be a nice way to ease back into things. No pressure or obligations and no awkward first date etiquette. People were just here to simply talk and get to know each other. If you made a connection that was great but if you just didn’t like someone then there were no hard feelings. 

  “Cute guy at twelve o'clock is checking you out.” You try to do a subtle scan of the room as you sip your fruity drink. 

  “Alicia I don’t know what that means…Wait how do you know he wasn’t checking you out?” She steps in front of you to slightly block your view. 

  “He’s in the gray button down on my right .” She half whispers as she attempts a head nod. “Do you see him?” 

  “Oh shit he’s coming over here.” You both do your best worst to act casual as a tall and very attractive…distractingly attractive man walks over. 

  “I do have to say yellow is definitely your color.” 

  “Told you.” Alicia says under her breath as she leaves you at the bar with this stranger. 

  You thank him politely for his compliment and introduce yourself as you try to ignore the lewd gestures your best friend is making with her hands behind his back. Thankfully she’s interrupted by a man with a tap on her shoulder. He’s noticeably not the type she goes for. He’s much too tall for her…she prefers to tower over her love interests ‘it makes me feel powerful’ in her words. 

  Jeff was nice enough as he engaged you in conversation. He mostly droned on about his job in finance and his hobbies, his five year goals and now come to think of it…you didn’t really get a chance to talk about yourself. He excused himself from the conversation when he saw someone he knew in the crowd, leaving you in your comfortable silence once again. 

  Your moment of reprieve is short lived when a woman approaches you. You actually enjoy talking to her and you can tell she’s listening intently. She’s beautiful, funny and smart. Perhaps another time you would be interested but she mentioned she just got out of a long term relationship and you don’t have the energy to be someone’s rebound. You’ve spent years repairing your broken heart and if this is your one attempt at trying to find love again it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you. 

  You still exchanged numbers after she’d said how nice it was to meet you. Your eyes immediately find Alicia’s across the room with a man who could be her grandfather. He doesn’t seem to notice her look of save me etched across her face. You take this moment to tease her a bit, making the same hand motions she did earlier. An older woman looks on in shock when you realize a little too late that you’ve caught the attention of others in the room. 

  After offering an apologetic smile, you gather yourself and join her across the room. 

  “Sorry to interrupt, Alicia, can I borrow you for a moment.”

   She loops her arm in yours pulling you close to her side. “It was nice to meet you Irving.”

  “The pleasure is all mine dear.” He takes her free hand, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the top. You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh as she waves him off. You can feel her eyes on you as you exit the lounge. 

  If looks could kill you’d be a goner. 

  “Irving seemed nice.”

  “Shut up.” 

  You both burst into a fit of giggles as you make it safely to the hotel lobby out of sight of anyone trying to vy for your attention. 

  These were the moments you lived for with your best friend. The reason you were able to get back on your feet when you moved across the country to start your life over. She took you in like a stray cat, no questions asked when you replied to her ad looking for a roommate. You didn’t find out until later on that she didn’t need the money, she just hated living alone. 

  She came from a wealthy family and traveled the world before settling in Naples Florida. She never had a soulmate…it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to go their entire lives without so much as a mark or tattoo. It makes you wonder if the universe chooses at random or if people are destined for that path. She is such a free spirit it almost makes sense why she can’t be tied down to just one person. Her biggest problem is making sure her current interests aren't only after her for money. 

  “So…what’s the plan for the rest of the evening babe?” You both step out still arm in arm. It’s a beautiful sunset starting just over the tops of the buildings downtown. You could walk down to the beach or drab a drink at another bar. 

  You can feel your dress starting to cling to your back from the humidity and you made a huge mistake wearing heels that weren’t broken in yet. Alicia looks at you and then pulls out her phone to call a car to come get you. “Let’s go home and eat ice cream while we discuss what a train wreck that was.” 

  You let out a sigh of relief as you push back trying to stand on the heels of your feet. “That sounds like a perfect night.” 

  ****

  “At one point he actually took his dentures out to show me.” Alicia buries her head in the pillow as you make a disgusted face. 

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” You’re laughing to the point of a stomach ache. 

  “Ya, you sound really sorry.” She throws the pillow at you on the other end of the couch. “So tell me about the girl. You were talking to her for a while.” She raises one eyebrow at you as she reaches down to the coffee table for the carton of rocky road. 

  “She was nice.” You lean forward grabbing the carton from her hands. “She was more than nice actually…but she just got out of a serious relationship.” 

  “Ugh…no one wants to be a rebound.” 

  Your thoughts exactly. 

  You swear sometimes you share a brain, or maybe you have just spent so much time with each other that you can’t help but think alike. 

  “I’m glad we went, I needed to break the ice. It’s not like the love of my life is gonna waltz into the record store.” You loved your job, you always had a love for music. There was something so special about the medium of records standing the test of time. That’s the kind of love you wanted. 

  “Let’s just marry each other if this dating thing doesn’t work out.” She holds out her pinky as you wrap yours around hers. 

  “Deal.” 

  “Deal.” 

  You raise from the couch gathering your plush blankets. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, love you leesh.” 

  “Love you too hon’, get some sleep.”

  ****

  Sleep

  That was a joke in its own right. The problem with having anxiety is the one time where your brain should quiet down is when it wants to be the most active. 

  You brush your thumb along the etched roses on your ring finger. It’s such a fine and delicate tattoo, the line work is beautiful and the stem of it perfectly curls around coming to a point at the end of your finger. 

  You hate to assume, but it’s always felt feminine in nature. It doesn’t seem like a drunken mistake or a rushed decision. The tattoo feels intentional. You had a lot of tattoos in a short amount of time when you were in college. These tattoos were overtly masculine. A small Blackhawk tattoo on your left wrist, almost mirroring your hummingbird. A gun of some kind on your left ankle…you weren’t familiar with firearms. A tiny elephant on the inside of your left thigh, by far the most adorable of the set. 

  In short succession they all adorned your body before you graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a minor in arts management and a major in music history. Your step mother always said it was a waste and your father couldn’t be bothered to defend you. Your mother would have been proud though. 

  It was years before the roses showed up on your finger one beautiful spring day. It was so unlike the others it turned your world upside down. 

  The reason you moved across the country to escape the control and the pressure of someone who couldn’t love you with those scars and tattoos. Resenting you more and more each day knowing that you belonged to someone else. 

  It’s those thoughts that keep you up at night. The nightmares and horrible things that only your mind thinks up. As much as you try to push those thoughts away, you know deep down someone is out there. Made for you. 

  We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. 

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[hotchs-bitch]

4 AM

Credits: prompt idea from @foxy-eva Criminal Minds Writing Challenge! Hurt/Comfort prompt: Nowhere else to go: Person A didn't know where else to go in a time of need, so they ring B's doorbell. Betaing credits to @doctorstethoscope and @greg-montgomery- I would never post anything if you guys didn't tell me to <3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner (post-slash?), Aaron Hotchner & blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n) (platonic-ish)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Unrequited love, discussions of divorce and parenting, Hotch's take on Haley leaving him, big sexy man cries a little, mentions of cases, angsty

A/N: I'm back with a song fic about Hotch's marriage crumbling, because apparently that's the only thing that can drag me out of my burnout era. Inspo song is 4 AM by Cate, and I highly recommend giving it a listen!!

Yes, this is angstier than I meant for it to be. Yes, I'm already working on a part 2 :)

Find it on ao3 here, or under the cut. Happy reading <3

Next part | Series masterlist | My masterlist

Why don’t you come over?

It’s only friendship we’ll risk

You can cry on my shoulder

If it’s her that you miss

Are you thinking of me

In a new light?

‘Cause if not wе could pretend for the night, for thе night

“Why don’t you come over for a little bit tonight?”

“It… it doesn’t even matter–”

“How long is your drive?”

Aaron’s sigh into the phone receiver is audible. You can almost picture him right now, his face screwed up in frustration and two fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’m… not far. I’m at a motel twenty minutes from Quantico. She offered to stay at Jessica’s house, but… I don’t want Jack to know what’s going on.”

This certainly wasn’t the conversation you were expecting to have when you phoned your boss in the evening, intending to apologize for the late hour and let him know that you would be sending a file to him that would need to be reviewed first thing in the morning. You were expecting a brief, rushed call. You weren’t expecting him to pocket-answer the phone so that you had an accidental front-row seat to the sound of your boss checking into a motel room for one guest.

When he finally heard your voice calling out, “Aaron!” from his pocket and realized what was going on, he had bashfully explained; another fight with Haley, a bad one. You know that they’re all bad these days, but his admittance meant that it was worse than usual. It had ended with both of them packing bags, insisting that the other stay at their house, and Hotch driving off before she could.

You can’t pretend that you aren’t a little surprised that he shared all of this without much prompting. But now, you just want to see him and know that he’s okay. You just want to make this better… but how can you do that?

Maybe it’s not your place to get involved at all. You would be the first to admit that, sure, you have a minor crush on your very married colleague, and maybe that means that you should be staying away from his marital problems with a twenty-foot pole. But if he needs help, you’re certainly going to offer it.

“I don’t want to say it, but… do you really think Jack doesn’t know? You two have been having a lot of problems, and he’s a smart kid.”

“I know. I know. But it’s not… we can work it out. We can figure something out. There’s no need to stress him out or make him think that we’re going to get a divorce. I don’t want him put through all of that, for something that won’t happen.” The pain in Aaron’s voice is as audible as his words, and the sheer emotion behind it… it just breaks your heart.

It’s your turn to sigh now, letting your head tip back and rest on the back of your couch. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over? It’s really no trouble, I promise. I’ve got a guest room; you can stay as long as you need.”

Now, there’s a familiar firmness in his tone. It’s that decisive I-know-best voice he uses when he really believes in what he’s saying. “I’m sure. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be home by tomorrow. We’ll work this out. I… appreciate you speaking to me about this. I’m sure it’s not why you called.”

If he could see you, you would wave a hand in the air as if to say, ‘Don’t worry about it’. “Anytime, Aaron. And that offer stands, you hear me?”

This standing offer of yours might be a bad idea. What if he takes you up on it? What if he comes over, seeking your company? Your conflicting feelings for him are easy enough to set aside at work, but if he’s coming over because of his rocky marriage that’s a whole other battlefield you don’t have a clue how to navigate.

Aaron loves his wife. You know that he does. He adores her and their son, right down to his nightly phone calls with them on cases and the picture of the two that he keeps in his go bag. But sometimes, on the occasional event that he relaxes around you, you can’t help wondering if he could ever think of you the same way he thinks of Haley. 

He could, you’re sure of that. He’s a red-blooded man, and even though that’s a little cliche of you, you can’t help but wish he would think of you as more than a colleague. You’re a woman who sees him more often than his own wife does, and that’s got to count for something. Does he really just view you as a colleague and friend, or… does he ever view you as something more?

Sometimes, you think maybe he does. During your last case – an abduction in South Dakota – the two of you had been canvassing together down a busy street when a biker rode past. Aaron had noticed in the nick of time, pulling you in towards him and out of the way of harm. He loves his wife more than anything, and you know that he was just keeping you from getting hurt. But for a moment, for just a split second, you had let yourself imagine that it was a gesture of more-than-friends, that he was pulling you in because he wanted to be closer to you.

So maybe this offer is a terrible, awful idea. You can admit that it probably is, but at least he doesn’t seem to be taking you up on it.

“I hear you.” There’s a bit of a smile in his voice now, as though he knows how serious you’re being and he finds it amusing. “Thank you, again. Have a nice night.”

Before you can respond, he hangs up. With a sigh, you set down the phone. It’s starting to get late now; you might as well go to sleep if he’s not coming over.

–

When you wake up, your bedroom is completely dark. Your alarm isn’t ringing on the nightstand, and when you roll over in bed you read the time on the digital clock. 3:46 AM.

So what the hell woke you up?

Your answer comes in the form of a knocking sound, loud enough to get your attention without being an obnoxious pounding sound. The noise is coming from… somewhere, so you get out of bed and slip on a robe over your pajamas to find the source of the noise.

The hunt leads you to your front door, where that steady knocking is coming from the other side. Someone is knocking on your door, at the late hour, and in a haze of grogginess and confusion, you wrench the door open.

“What is- Aaron?”

He’s standing on your step, his hand raised like he’s ready to knock again. His face… god. His face is full of pain, unimaginably pure pain, and he nods at you. “Hi. I’m sorry, I… you were sleeping. I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

His voice breaks a little, and that’s when you reach out. With one hand on his shoulder, you steer him into the house and close the door. “Are you okay? You didn’t… what?”

When you guide Aaron to the couch, he sits down without hesitation. His voice is drenched with despair when he says, “I didn’t… know where else to go. You said that the, er, offer was standing, right?”

“What? Yes, of course, it is. Aaron, what’s going on?” You sink down onto the couch next to him, watching him inhale deeply like he’s trying to ground himself. The tiny part of you that preens when he says that he didn’t know where else to go… well, you try to fight that part back. Right now, the priority is Aaron. The priority is not your ridiculous, unrealistic crush on him. “I thought you were staying at the motel tonight and going home tomorrow.” 

“I did, too. Haley texted me a little while ago. She… she told me that she wants to figure out a… custody agreement that recognizes her as Jack’s primary parent. She wants to… work that out before she gets her lawyer involved.” He gives you a sardonic little smile, one that fills you to the brim with empathy as he continues to speak. “Apparently, when she said she would stay at her sister’s house, she meant indefinitely. I can expect to be served the… papers in the next week.”

He says ‘papers’ in a bitter tone, like the very sound of the word puts a bad taste in his mouth. It’s not hard to piece two and two together, and you slowly reach for his hand. He lets you take it, and you give him a moment before you ask the question.

“You and Haley are divorcing?” Compartmentalizing this has to be one of the most strong-willed things you’ve ever done. This isn’t the time for your feelings and emotions to be anywhere near the surface; not when Aaron needs you like this.

At the d-word, he flinches a little like he’s been wounded. He obviously hasn’t come to terms with the idea of it yet, and you wonder how long it’s been since she texted him. “We aren’t divorcing. She’s divorcing me.” His correction is swift, and his voice is brittle; it feels like he’s close to shattering. Seeing him like this – so vulnerable, so broken – is completely alien to you.

“Aaron…” You don’t know what to say, so you squeeze his hand. In lieu of any other words, you ask the stupidest possible question. “How do you feel?”

He laughs a little, at that. It isn’t genuine, but it’s not a cruel laugh either. It’s a little bit cynical, a little disbelieving. “I just found out that my wife is leaving me. It’s 4 AM, and I’m tired, and I can’t go home. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, right now.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. It was dumb of me to ask.” You move a little closer to him, the couch cushions shifting under you until you’re almost pressed against him. “You can talk about it, if you want to. You can tell me everything that’s going through your head.”

Aaron takes another deep breath at that, and his hold on your hand tightens a little. “She isn’t happy. She hasn’t been happy, and we both knew it. I just… I didn’t think this would happen. I know she wants me around more- wanted me around, I suppose. Lately, most of our fights have been about work. Haley wanted me to leave the BAU, the Bureau if it came down to it, and I refused. And I can’t blame her for wanting a normal life, or wanting me to work at a 9 to 5, but… I can’t do that.”

His monologue has shaken every remaining ounce of grogginess out of your system. Aaron so rarely opens up, especially about personal matters. Listening to him talk like this, you could go all night long without a cup of coffee.

Come to think of it, coffee is a really good idea. Standing up, you give him a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m just going to make us some coffee. You look like you need it.”

The open-concept design means that you only move a few feet away to get to the coffeemaker in the kitchen, and you look over at Aaron as you scoop grounds into the basket. “Why can’t you leave the BAU?” Your question is soft, not accusatory.

He hears your tone, the general curiosity, and sighs. “When I was a lawyer, I prosecuted dozens of murder cases. By the time they reached my desk, it always felt like it was too late. And I wanted to, uh… stop them, before they got to my desk. We see a lot of things, you know? Jack… I don’t want him growing up in a world like this, with serial killers around every corner. I want to make the world a safer place for him. I suppose I thought that… I thought that because I’m doing it for my family, that would make it… easier for her to deal with.”

By the time Aaron finishes speaking, you’re handing him a cup of coffee. It’s sweetened with a bit of sugar and some cream; he usually drinks it black, but you know he considers any other kind of coffee to be a treat. If there’s ever been a time for him to deserve a treat, it’s now.

“You’re a good dad,” you tell him as you sink back down onto the couch with a mug of your own. “I know that you and Haley might have different ideas about what parenting should look like, but… you’re doing this because you love him. You want to protect him, and keep him safe and innocent. That doesn’t make you a monster for missing bedtime.”

It’s silent for a long moment; the only sound is both of you sipping your coffees, and then Aaron hums quietly. “I just… I never want him to know what kind of people are out there. He’s a little kid. I’m supposed to be there to tell him that there isn’t a monster under his bed. Instead, I spent his birthday in Mississippi looking for a guy who hunts his victims by actually hiding under their beds. I can’t blame Haley for being upset with me.”

You’re still trying to think of a response to that when he speaks again. His voice softens now, and when you glance over he looks away quickly. It’s not quick enough, and you still make note of the tears in his eyes that he’s obviously trying to hide. “We’ve been together since high school, you know. Graduation, college, law school… all of it.”

“I had no idea,” you murmur. You knew that Aaron and his wife were together for a long time, obviously. But to be together since high school? That’s a hefty chunk of time; it’s more than half as long as he’s been alive. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I… I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“If it helps, neither can I. I don’t… I have no clue how I feel,” he admits, setting down the coffee cup. His gaze is still averted, but you can see the tears shining in his eyes. “Things haven’t been great for a while, and I know that. I’m not an idiot. But she’s always been there by my side, always. And now… she won’t be there, anymore.” His voice breaks a little on the last word, and it just… breaks your heart, all over again.

When you speak, it’s a little more tentative. Between his strict professionalism in the office and the reason for this impromptu 4 AM visit, you’re worried that you might be crossing some sort of line here. He’s got a wife at home; technically, he’s still married. That, and the reason for your offer is more selfish than you care to admit. But you don’t mind that as much as you probably should. After a pause, you say it.

“You can say no, but… do you want a hug?” Even as you ask the question, you start to get to your feet. Maybe to give him easy access, or maybe just so you can busy yourself with the coffee mugs if he says no.

A soft ‘oof’ escapes you when Aaron gets to his feet and hugs you tightly, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask. His arms wrap around your waist while your own come up to reach around him, rubbing his back gently in as reassuring of a manner as you can. Yes, your reason for this hug is selfish… It's selfish to take pride in the fact that you’re the one comforting him, reassuring him, and hopefully making him feel better.

You’re just about to let go – the guilt-ridden confliction of your emotions is almost too much to handle – when you feel and hear a sharp intake of breath against your shoulder, under your hand. It’s paired with the softest, most broken-sounding sob you can imagine. Aaron is trying to hold back that flood of emotion, that heartbreak that seems to surround him like it’s stuck alongside him inside an impenetrable bubble, and you tighten your grip on him a little.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, and you hope that you sound soothing. You hope that you can calm him, help him in some way. “You can let go, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron doesn’t respond. He’s silent against you as his face presses into your shoulder, but his back moves under your hand when he takes in another deep, shuddering breath. It isn’t until he pulls away and lowers his head that you realize that the shoulder of your robe is soaked with tears that you couldn’t feel through the layers of fabric.

His head is still down, and he wipes at his face like he can’t stand to have tears running down it. “I’m sorry,” he says after a long moment, and he turns away altogether while he presumably collects himself. 

You allow him this privacy, this pseudo-solitude to wipe his face and straighten his posture and do whatever else he can to recover from his moment of sheer, sheer vulnerability. He’s starting to turn back by the time you say, “Don’t be. You’re hurting, Aaron. I want to be here for you, however I can be. If you want to talk about how much you miss her, and cry on my shoulder…” you shrug one of the aforementioned shoulders, a gesture meant to play off the tension of the moment, “Well, I’ve got two of them, so feel free. Whatever you need, okay? That’s a promise.”

With a little nod, Aaron wipes a hand under both eyes again. “I understand. I really appreciate it… I appreciate you. Just having you here, with me… it’s helped more than you know.”

A tight smile graces your face, and you pat his forearm as you step back. The coffee is starting to wear off, and you can feel the exhaustion down to your bones. It’s on his face too, in his eyes and the way they’re growing heavy with the need to sleep. “Of course. We can talk more in the morning, but I think for now you should try to get some sleep. Okay?”

Aaron straightens up, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes as he tries to suppress a yawn. “I think you’re right. Thank you, again.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” you promise, leading him down the hall towards the guest bedroom right next door to yours. “Just get some rest, and… tomorrow can wait. Everything else can wait, for now.”

“It can wait,” Aaron agrees with a solemn nod, his voice quiet. He thanks you once again before you step away from the door, listening to it shut before you turn off all the lights and return to your own bedroom.

By the time you slip under your blankets, you can hear soft snores floating through the shared wall. It’s still hard to tell if you’ve overstepped, or if you’ve crossed some sort of line tonight. But for now… Aaron might have Haley in his head, but he’s fast asleep in your guest bedroom. You’re going to support him through this next stage of his life. Whatever the next few weeks or months may bring, you’ll be there.

You aren’t going to change his mind on anything. If he wants to contest the divorce, you’ll be there for him. If he wants to do it amicably, you’ll ask how you can help. If he realizes somewhere along the way that you could be the one for him, you certainly won’t argue.

You’ve already waited without hope for years. If he winds up single then maybe, just maybe, he’ll think of you in a new light one day. And if not… maybe you can just pretend he will, for tonight.

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Tell me what you thought <3

[jeankluv]

Snow on the beach || Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: none

Note: It’s been over a month since the last update but here we are once again. Enjoy 💗🍉

Previous chapter || Materialist || Next chapter

Chapter VII: Uh oh, I’m falling in love

You entered your house followed by Law, you told him he didn’t have to check your knee now but he insisted on doing it and you know how stubborn he was. You walked through the house in silence, although you could hear your heart beating loudly in your ears. Please calm down y/n, calm down.

“Change into something more comfortable, so I can check your knee and see if I can know what you got.” He spoke, taking you out of your bubble.

“Yeah… sure. I will change.” You said and disappeared from the living room.

Leaving Law completely alone. He looked around, inspecting the house, you didn’t decorate it at all. It felt quite cold, not only because there was no heater but also because despite you leaving here for almost a month already, it seemed like an empty house. You probably hadn't had time to go shopping for things you liked. But what were the things you liked? If Law started to think, he knew things about you, the typical things you learn if you play twenty questions. Things like that you liked Taylor Swift, you preferred the cold over the heat even though you were having a terrible time here due to the cold, that you loved the stars and everything that had to do with them, that you preferred strawberry ice cream to chocolate ice cream, that you said you were a cat person but you were dying of love for Bepo, that you loved reading even though you haven't lately, that you could spend hours watching series of any genre and that her dad was a dick apparently, but beyond that you haven't told him more.

Things like the fact you touch your necklace or your neck when you're nervous, that your ears turn red, that your nose wrinkles a little when you lie, that you were sarcastic, or that you seem to have a need to please others without realizing it, leaving your feelings to yourself, are things he had realized by calmly observing. But what would you like your home to look like? Would you like a minimalistic style or maybe a more rustic style? Which was your favorite color for a room?

“I’m back. Please don’t judge my pijama, it’s the best I found for you to be able to check my knee.” And Law turned around, to see you on a cute… Spider-Man pijama?

“It’s that…”

“I like superheros okay? Especially Spider-Man, it sounds cliche but I’m a nerd alright Law? Now check my knee. Please.” You said sitting down on the couch.

“I was just going to say that I liked. I was not going to make fun of you.” You nodded.

“Thank you. It’s an old pijama but was one of the warmest I had back home, so it was the best option for here.”

“Okay now let me check your knee.”

You lifted your pants and showed him your knee. He started touching it, asking if the places he touched hurt you.

“Was this scar before or after the pain started?” He said pointing at the scar that was on your knee.

“I got it when I fell.”

“So you fell?”

“Yeah… Well, they pushed me, someone pushed me and I fell and hit the curb with my knee.” You explained.

“When was that?”

“Months ago, I don’t remember exactly.” But you did, you knew exactly the day.

“Did they check you after the incident or…?”

“No, you’re the first one.”

“You should get an x-ray scanner, just in case there is something broken, which I doubt but to see if we can know what it is.” You nodded. “Unfortunately our x-ray scanner broke a couple of weeks ago and we are still waiting for them to fix it, so you will have to go to the nearby city to get it done.”

“Oh okay, no problem.”

“I will go with you.”

“You don’t have to Law.”

“I insist, besides I know some doctors there, it will be easier to get everything done.”

“Okay, good but weren’t you saying something this morning…”

“Y/n… you love to mock me right?”

“I love it.” You laughed. “But now for real, is it okay?”

“It’s okay… I will figure things out.”

“We.” You responded.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a stubborn.”

“Look who's talking, Mr. stubborn.”

He smiled to the floor and then looked at you, once again with his serious face. “It’s late y/n, I will leave.”

He stood up and you followed him to the door. You said goodbye and you saw him walk to his house, a few meters away from yours. You closed the door and leaned your forehead against it, you wanted to scream. Because? Because Law, it wasn't normal what the simple brushing of his fingers on your knee had caused you. Shit y/n, he was treating you like his patient and you are here fantasizing. But not only that, it's that smile at the end, damn, if Nami saw you at that moment he would be making fun of you and telling you “I told you so.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Law woke a bit later than he usually did that day, he took a shower and then fed Bepo, who was already sleeping at home because the weather was starting to get colder and he was a spoiled boy, like Law used to call him. He was in the middle of preparing his coffee when he heard some knocks on his door. He knew Corazon wasn’t because he was still sleeping after arriving late last night, so he figured out it would be you. He opened his front door to find you pouting in front of him.

“Why…?” Law started to speak, with a concerned tone on his voice.

“You lied.” You cut him.

He blinked “Excuse me?”

“You said it was starting to snow… but look!” You said pointing outside. “There is nothing! I think even the grass looks more green today than yesterday.”

He sighed and leaned into the door frame. “I said that snowflakes were falling, not that it was going to snow.”

“Snowflake equals snow.” You replicated. “I never saw snow okay!? I got excited when you told me there were snowflakes. I thought I was going to wake up to a completely white landscape and I woke up to this.”

“You never saw snow?”

“Yeah never, okay? Where I am from it never snows, and my mom wasn’t rich, we never went to the snow, we didn’t even have a car of our own.” You told him.

Law softly laughed at your facial expressions. “Don’t worry peachie it will eventually snow. I promise.”

“Climate change is knocking on the door and is saying that maybe not.”

“You woke up funny today? What did you have for breakfast, one of those Brook’s brownies?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just stating facts, maybe it doesn’t.”

“It will, it always does and if it doesn’t, then I will make sure you see the snow for the first time.”

You smiled. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled back at you and you felt like you could die in that moment. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Mmhmm… I did.” Big mistake, because Law knew right away that you were lying.

“Liar.”

“But how do you know?!” You cried

“You always bite your lip before telling the lie and then you start playing with your fingers.” He said and you were left without words. “Now c’mon let’s have breakfast.” He held your hand, making your heart skip a bit.

Law walked in front of you holding your hand and unbothered by the fact your hand was sweating like crazy. He guided you till the kitchen, where he made you sit down and wait for him to prepare breakfast. Bepo came running towards you, asking you to pet him and so you did.

“You are a good boy.” You said playing with him, while Bepo happily moved his tail.

“He really likes you.” Law said, leaving a plate in front of you.

“Thank you. And well what can I say, look at me I’m charming.”

“Sure you are. Now eat.”

You ate what Law brought you, while observing his profile. He saw reading and concentrated on whatever it was, from time to time he would reach for his coffee and drink it. You couldn’t deny it, he was good looking and the piercings on his ears were…

“You should take a picture, it will last longer.” You heard him talk.

“Fuck…” You whispered, looking down trying to hide the fact your face was probably red like a tomato.

“Peachie, come on, finish everything.”

“Why do you always call me that?” You looked at him.

“What peachie?” You nodded in response. “Whenever you are embarrassed your cheeks will turn red, similar to a peach and that’s why… I find it cute.” He said looking at you and then went back to his book.

You were left unspoken, like he always did. Stupid Law, who was making your heart race like that.

“What do you find cute Law?” You heard the voice of Corazon and you smiled.

“Good morning Corazon.” You greeted him.

“Oh y/n! Hello, how are you? It’s been some time since we saw each other. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, the restaurant it’s keeping me busy, but I’m glad I came.”

“Oh Law! What a gentleman you’re cooking for y/n. But nothing for your old man.” He cried and you laughed at Corazon’s face.

“Cora-san…” Law rolled his eyes.

“I’m kidding, I can do it myself. You two love birds can keep talking, pretending like I’m not here.” With that Law choked on his own coffee and your eyes opened like plates.

“Corazon!” Law shouted.

“Oops.” He laughed.

You felt your face heat and tried to hide it behind the cup, while trying to avoid both, Law’s and Corazon’s gazer. Corazon put the topic aside and proceeded to ask you about work and the new group of friends you had made. From time to time you glanced at Law to see what he was doing and you would notice him reading. The minutes began to tick and before you realized it, Corazon was saying goodbye to the two of you to go run some errands. You were both alone at home. You picked up your breakfast plate and even though Law insisted that you didn't need to clean it, you did, Law had already been nice enough to you to make him clean your breakfast.

You still had time before going to work and honestly, a part of you didn’t want to leave at that moment. You liked Law’s presence, even if he didn’t speak much or at all, feeling him near was enough for you to feel comfortable. But the other part inside of you, was screaming to leave and that you were probably being a burden to him. You closed your eyes for a moment and then turned around to face Law, who was coming into your direction.

“I…”

“Do you want me to take you to your work?” He said, not letting you speak.

“I… there is no need.” You moved your head. “I will take the bus, like always.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, besides I need to go home before leaving.” You pointed out. “I will be heading home, thank you for the breakfast Law. It was really nice.” He nodded and you disappeared from his gaze.

You hugged yourself, started walking, almost running back home, it was so cold outside you could feel yourself almost freezing right there. Entering the house you felt a little bit warmer but not like you did back at Law’s home. You told yourself that it was because their heaters were better than an hour, not because their house actually felt like a home.

You took a quick shower, you actually told Law no to his invitation to take you to the town because you needed to call your mom and didn’t want to explain Law your whole trauma and past. It was hard enough telling Nami back then and you didn’t want to bother Law with it. You would end up being a mess, with your whole face red from crying and you didn’t want him to see you like that, not again.

Thirty minutes later I was already putting the coin in the crack to call your mother, it was Sunday so I would be at home with Kelly and David. You smiled as you thought about the Saturdays you used to spend together, how you played with Kelly and David and your mother would hang out together or when the three of you would play board games in the afternoon. Your heart skipped a beat thinking about it and you held the phone tighter in your hand, trying to stop yourself from crying. Part of you wanted to go back, hug your mother, shower Kelly with kisses, enjoy David's company again, but the big part of you wasn't able to do it. The phone rang twice before they picked up on the other end.

“Honey?” You heard your mom’s sweet voice on the other side.

“Yeah mom, it’s me.” You smiled.

“Oh honey, I missed you. I was getting worried because you didn’t call and I thought something happened.”

“Don’t worry mom, I’m perfectly fine, it’s just… it’s been busy here and I couldn’t call. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I am just glad you are okay.”

The two of you started talking, your mom told you about Kelly, about David, about things that had happened to her throughout the week and you told her about your things, the restaurant, your new friends.

“This Law… you also mentioned him last time we talked. And you had mentioned him a lot again, who is he? Someone I should know about?” Your mom teased on the other side of the phone.

“He is just a friend…”

“A friend?”

“Mhm, he is a doctor here in town.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah but we are not anything, we are just friends…”

“But you like him?”

“Mom please…” You leaned your head against the glass of the cabin.

“What honey? I’m your mother, if my sweet baby is in love with someone I deserve to know.”

You stayed silent for a moment, in love with Law? That was such a big word, to be in love. You didn’t even know how it felt to be in love with someone, yeah you liked people before but you don’t think you have ever been in love with anyone. But with Law? You liked him and you felt sexually attracted to him, that was impossible to deny. He was someone who made you feel safe and comfortable, whenever he was around. Made your heart race, made you blush, but were you in love? Uh oh, I’m falling in love.

“I… maybe?” You whispered.

“Oh honey… I’m so happy for you.”

“Mom it’s getting late, I have to leave.”

“Okay, but I want you to tell me more about Law. I need to know more about this guy.”

You laughed and told her goodbye. You stayed there for a couple of more minutes, thinking about it. You were falling for Law, it wasn’t just sexual attraction or a simple liking, you loved him. Oh… all those times when your heart raced, when your eyes met and your face would blush, you were starting to fall for him.

“I’m falling for him…” You said for yourself.

“I knew it!” You opened your eyes widely looking at the person standing next to you. “Robin owns my 15 bucks.”

“Wait what?” You stepped out looking at Nami.

“I’m sorry my baby, but it was kinda obvious. And I could bet Law is also…”

“He is not and stop betting for my love life.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “What were you doing?”

“Oh I was just calling my mom.”

“You don’t have a phone.” You shook your head. “You can come to my apartment and use mine or come to the store whenever you want. Stop spending money on this old thing.”

“I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Y/n….” She sighed and held you from the shoulders. “You are not a bother and will never be. Understand? You are my friend. A dear one. And I don’t mind, you crashing on my apartment at 4 a.m., because you are homesick and you want to talk with your mom. I will let you, and prepare a hot chocolate and then spend the rest of the morning talking about how you are in love with...” You hit her. “Ah! Okay falling for…”

“Enough. I’m leaving, I need to work.” You started to walk off.

“Okay baby! But don’t think our conversation is over.” She waved at you.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. You began walking towards the restaurant, meeting familiar faces that smiled kindly at you. Zeff greeted you like always and Sanji came running towards you and welcomed you. You mentally prepared yourself for today, today was Sunday so it would be busy and you knew you would be closing late. Lunchtime was quiet, as was the afternoon, but the worst came at night, when families arrived for dinner after spending the day at the tourist spots near the town.

Moving one of the chairs, you fell into it exhausted. You had been exhausted, you had been alone most of the night because Sanji had to go into the kitchen to help because they couldn't keep up with so many orders. Your days at the restaurant were normally slow but Saturdays and Sundays, were a whole rollercoaster, where you could go from having no activities to being full of clients. You said goodbye to Sanji and Zeff, if you walked a little fast you could take the bus to go home and sleep all day tomorrow. You walked through the streets, hugging yourself to warm yourself.

“Miss?” You heard a man’s voice behind you.

You hugged yourself harder, feeling a chill running through your body. You turned around, leaving a space between the man and you. He was tall, really tall, blonde and he was wearing sunglasses, despite it being night already. You looked at him frowning and not stopping hugging you, as if that action were some kind of shield.

“Miss, do you know by any chance, Dr. Trafalgar?”

Law. Was he looking for him? Why? It didn't give you any good vibes.

“No. Sorry.” You said sharply. “Now if you excuse me.” You started to walk away.

But you were stopped by the man, who stood in front of you. You swallowed looking up at him. “I think you do miss, and you know? I hate liars.”

You shaked after hearing his words, could this be… that famous boss?

Tag list: @phsycochan @punem699

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 4/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries.

ONE TWO THREE

FOUR

                It’s an old mini-documentary, not one that was super popular but it’s centered around the working stunt artists of Hollywood and there’s Bradley Bradshaw looking about ten years younger and almost hotter, except Jake thinks he likes his laugh lines and more mature body. He realizes the fact that he’s familiar with Bradley Bradshaw’s body enough from sight alone to identify a possible time lapse confirms that he definitely has a problem. He knew that already, but he’d still sort of hoped it had maybe gone away.

                No such luck

                “What got you into doing stunt work?”

                “My dad was a stuntman, he was a bit of a daredevil and specialized in car racing and tricks. He was good.”

                “Ah, yes. He died during filming didn’t he?”

                “Yeah, about twenty years ago now. Car accident on set when the brakes failed.”

                Jake does a mental calculation, that would make it over thirty years ago now, so sometime in the mid to late 1980s and he wonders if he can find out more details of if he’s starting to maybe become a little too much like one of those obsessed fans who can’t identify reality from fantasy.

                “You were a child actor too…”

                “Oh god, please don’t tell me you have footage of that.”

                “We do, but it’s not exactly relevant to the subject were interviewing you about.”

                “Thank goodness for small mercies!” Bradley laughs, and it’s a little tinny through the speakers but it’s still gorgeous, Jake would love to have Bradley laugh with him like that. Fuck.

                “Well, how about you show us some of the work you’ve been doing recently? I’ve heard you’ve become something of a rock climbing expert?”

                “I don’t know if I’d use expert, but I’m okay.”

                Of course he’s modest about his skill, and Jake watches as Bradley climbs the wall, racing up so fast it might as well be a fucking horizontal surface. He repels down effortlessly and Jake wonders just what Bradley’s workout regime entails to stay flexible and as strong as he needs to be for the activities that he’s seen him partake in.

                “So if people wanted to get into stunt work where would they go?”

                “There are schools for it, and workshops and plenty of training opportunities. Staying fit, strong and flexible is all important, but you also need to know choreography and rolls and falls, and then there’s the camera angles. It’s quite involved at the end of the day, but it’s a job I love.”

           ��    The interviewer is then talking to someone else and he shut the window and despite it being against his better judgement he searches out Bradley Bradshaw’s father’s death and winces at the fact that he was only three when he died. Married to Carole Clarke and holy shit, Oscar award winner and silver-screen beauty and also somehow Bradley Bradshaw’s parent, although she died much too young… God. If he’d lost both his parents before he even turned ten he doesn’t know if he’d have survived to adulthood.

                Then he finds it, where Pete Mitchell fits in, best friends with Nick Bradshaw. He’s obviously been around Bradley Bradshaw as he grew up. Potentially even raised him if there was no other family, and he wonders if that is the case just how Pete Mitchell balanced raising a kid while also travelling the world directing films. Unless Bradley simply travelled with him of course, which is entirely plausible.

                He wants to see him again.

                It make no sense but it also doesn’t change the fact.

                He messages his agent and asks him to get Bradley Bradshaw’s number. Doesn’t specify why, doesn’t need to.

                The number sits in his phone unused.

…            …            …           

                Bradley reads through the contract, and he can’t help but frown, because there are clauses in here that are usually removed. His staff know that there are non-negotiables and the fact that they haven’t been removed could be simply human error, or it could be because they believe they don’t need to be removed. He doesn’t let people do their own stunt work unless they’re low risk, have sufficient training or experience in the activity. He rings Brigham in the office first, his skill at ability assessment the most crucial when drafting the contract.

                “Hey man, what’s up with the contract you just sent me?”

                “Ha! Knew you’d call me. I win the bet! Not even three hours!”

                “Brigham! Focus!”

                “Sorry. Just, this cowboy film, did you read who they’ve got starring in it?”

                Bradley ignores the little flip his stomach does and quickly flicks to the part which details the names of the actors and of course, of course, Jake Seresin’s name is there, staring at him in black and white and oh…

                “Jake Seresin, Javy Machado and Callie Bassett.”

                “Oh.”

                “Oh is right. So, no, we won’t need a stunt double for Seresin. He used to compete and is probably better than any of us. He knows what he’s doing around horses.”

                Oh boy does Bradley know what Jake can do around horses. He’s not worried about that at all. Brigham is still talking though and he forces himself to concentrate.

                “Though Machado and Bassett need doubles. Was thinking Rueben and Natasha, they’ve both worked with horses before.”

                “Yeah, they’d work. You’ve already gotten the backgrounds?”

                “Yep. Large working ranch, going to be a bit of legwork to get around it and scope it out, but they’re making every accommodation possible, definitely the easiest contract negotiations I’ve had in a while.”

                Huh.

                Interesting.

                “Seresin was always pushing for a more active role in the last film I worked on him with. Was there any push back about me having veto power?”

                “Nope, none at all. Don’t know why you’d use it though. He’s well suited to it, even sent a recent video of him riding and roping and doing fancy looking shit. However the other two are nowhere near as confident, in fact they’ve never even ridden a horse. So we’ve got that challenge ahead of us…”

                “Okay… well, you’re in charge of scheduling. Tell me when and where.”

                “You ever been to Texas?”

FIVE

[myinconnelly1]

Hard at Work - A Small Trip

Summary: Katie Thompson is good at solving problems, so naturally when an offer for a work study at Stark Tower arrives, she signs up. Will her Omega designation help or hinder the training of the new superheroes.

Word Count: 956

Masterlist

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, Masturbation (Male), Dark thoughts, Possessiveness, corny flirting

Katie had grabbed her bag quickly and rushed away from Tony’s office a little faster than she would have been proud to admit.  She was so absorbed in her on thoughts that she didn’t even notice when she walked past Steve Rogers, and Katie would never let that meeting slide past her otherwise.

Steve on the other hand knew everything about Katie from the single waft of her scent as she rushed by.  He had marched straight to his room and locked himself in.  He had never been this intoxicated by an omega’s scent before.  He had been locked in for two hours now and was currently stroking himself slowly for the third time as the spicy scent that Katie had left him with wound itself into his mind.  The first time he had cum he had barely touched himself before popping his knot.  But even that didn’t stop him from jerking himself to a fast and breathless second release.

Steve could tell from the brunt spiciness of the omega, that she was coy little brat.  She probably knew exactly what she was doing with that little skirt that she had worn into Stark Tower.  He knew that she was playing hard to get with the way that she held her binder in front of her breasts.  He bet they were firm, as he squeezed his cock and groaned.  He wanted to spill him cum all over her breasts.

He had been a sweet boy from Brooklyn before he went into the ice seventy years ago.  He had not been kissed until Peggy, but when they thawed him he refused to live his second life as a virgin.  What was the point in being a famous superhero if you didn’t get the pretty girls that you rescued.

Steve choked slightly as he came again thinking about Katie.  Breathless and with a small amount of blood on her, she thanked him.  In his fantasy, he had just rescued her from a small army, and she knew of a way to thank Captain America for saving her.  In fact, she had been saving herself for him.

Katie had rushed back to her apartment, packed her small little bags and rushed down to hail a taxi in the rush hour of New York.  She turned the street corner to get a better spot to hail the cab and walked straight into someone.

“Crap!”  She yelped helplessly as she started to fall backwards reaching out for anything to grab onto.  The sleek material in front of her was the only thing she managed to grab as she went downward and back, realizing too late that she was bringing whatever she had grabbed with her.

“Shit, are you okay?”  The solid form of the man who had landed on top of her asked.  Katie had grabbed him by the tie and after bumping into him.  He had managed to get his hands behind her head and protected her from concrete when she thumped to the ground with a small ‘oof’.

“I am so sorry; I need to do a better job of paying attention.  I was just looking for a ride.”  She stilled once the words were all out of her mouth, and she realized he had landed between her legs.  Their position could not have been more intimate if they had planned it.  He chuckled quietly before reaching for something beside her side.

“I could give you one, but I don’t think that you would get very far,” He teased as he moved to kneel.  It was then that Katie realized he had grabbed a red tipped white cane.

“Oh my God, I took down a blind person.  I’m the worst,” She groaned, and he laughed.  “I’m Katie by the way, in case you want to press charges or something.”  She had given up on trying to think her way into a good line with the handsome stranger. 

“Negligent clumsiness is the next big threat to New York.  Twenty percent of people claim to have been victims from nervous pretty girls walking into them,” He was still grinning as he stood up and offered a hand out to help her up.  “I’m Matt by the way.”

“That’s a good one,” She giggled and stood up.  “Can I pay for your cab ride?”

“Will you share it with me?”  He asked.  Katie blushed.  She had never talked with anyone so direct.  She knew alphas could be abrupt like this, but Matt’s scent marked him as a beta.  “I’m making you uncomfortable, sorry,” He said as he tilted his head to listen to something.

“No, I was just surprised.  Where are you heading to?”  She asked putting her arm up and out to flag a taxicab.

“I’d rather not say it out loud on the street.  It might draw the wrong kind of attention,” he whispered conspiratorially.  Katie laughed at this.

“Fine, Mr. secretive.  You can tell it to the cab driver and if it’s in the right direction, I’ll ride with you.” 

“Deal,”  He jumped on it.  “You’re bleeding.”

“What?”  She asked looking at him quizzically.

“On your back, I think you scraped yourself when you fell.”  He gestured behind her as she felt her back.  There was a small scrape, but it would be fine she decided.

“It’s okay, thanks.  How did you do that?”  She asked as the taxi pulled up to the curb.  She opened the door, and Matt grabbed her elbow gently.  She was surprised at first but realized it was probably to guide himself into the vehicle.

“Where too?”  the cabbie asked.

“The Stark Campus,” Matt said as he adjusted to make himself comfortable on the far side of the car.  “Is it on your way?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boy that was some conflicting thoughts. Cute flirting and dark possessiveness in the same fic!

What do you think? Are you ready for classes to start?

[ambrossart]

I’m so sorry to clog up your notifications, but for some reason, Tumblr is refusing to let me comment 🙄 Think of this as a continuation of my comment from a few minutes ago 🤦‍♀️

About the boxes: right?! I’ve donated/given away/thrown away way too many things for there to still be this much stuff.

By the way, you should be so proud of yourself for going through all this moving with agoraphobia. I’ve only moved once and it’s caused a major strain. Going from Rhode Island to Tennessee is not an easy feat. If it helps to write out what’s going on, please keep us updated! Again, I’m sending soooo much rest your way!

I'm writing this from Tennessee!

Oh my god, that was the most stressful move of my life. My husband accidentally went through a moving broker and we 100% got scammed. They severely underquoted us (a common tactic), so when the movers showed up, the cost was more than double what was quoted. We were backed into a corner. Our options were to pay the extra cost or throw away all of our furniture. Thankfully, my parents loaned us some money, so we got our furniture loaded onto the truck (minus our dining room table, which we had already sacrificed), but now we have no idea when we're getting our furniture delivered—or if we're getting our furniture delivered. I hate moving so much. I wanna cry, but I'm too exhausted.

But my new apartment is gorgeous. Apart from the leaky sink (which should be fixed today) and the lack of furniture, it's incredible. Everything is brand new. There's so much space. The community is up in the hills, so it's got this quiet, woodsy vibe. Once we're settled, I know I'm gonna be really happy here.

And yeah, my mental health has definitely taken a hit with all this moving. My agoraphobia is triggered by major changes in environment. Actually, even minor changes will trigger it. During the drive here, for example, I was having mini panic attacks at every rest stop because I was scared I was gonna get lost on my way to the restroom (I know that sounds silly, but 🤷‍♀️). I have to Google every new place I visit so that I can see pictures of the inside and outside. If I could download a map, I would.

But you wouldn't know I'm struggling if you saw me. I go through great effort to hide it.

My lowest point was in college. My freshman year was fine because I had a roommate and would go out with her, but my sophomore year I was by myself, and I didn't leave my dorm for months, except to go to class (and I barely ever went to class either, but luckily I had very understanding professors who made accommodations for me). I also developed a slight ED during this time. I was too scared to go get food, so I wouldn't eat, except for like a candy bar out of the vending machine or something. I was like a little gremlin. I would come out at night, raid the vending machine, and then scurry back into my room before anyone could see me. That’s really embarrassing to admit, but it’s true. And I was losing weight! I was losing so much weight, and I was happy because I had always struggled with my weight, so… win-win, right? I didn’t have to face the terrifying world and I was finally skinny. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, one night I fainted in the shower, fell hard, slammed my head on the bathroom floor, lost conciousness, came to, saw my RA hovering over me, and finally realized I had a major problem.

Yeah, I was a hot mess in my late teens/early twenties.

I’m still a hot mess, but I’m doing a lot better. 😂

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 12| There Is Rain

(Gif credit: @xo-tough-love-xo )

Sweat poured down my face as I finally finished my set of Bulgarian squats. Dropping the seventy pound dumbbells in each hand, I stood up and wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt. As I went to grab my water bottle, I caught Aiden’s stare.

“What bro? I did fifteen,” I said.

Waving me off, he said, “Question.”

The look on his face let me know that I would soon regret giving him the go ahead for his foolishness but I motioned for him to continue as I took a few sips of water.

“Been around any vampires lately?” he cracks, causing me to almost spit my water out.

“Bro, what is your problem?” I chuckle.

“Nothing, I’m just saying. Looking like you willingly offered yourself up. Whore,” Aiden said.

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped as we both busted out into laughter. I wasn’t someone who kissed and told but as I was rushing to get here on time, I didn’t realize there was evidence left behind. If I did, I would have worn a different shirt.

“Something like that,” I say. In a flash I see Mila on my bed spread before me, eyes wanton, chest flushed a vibrant hue of red.

There.

Here?

Yesss.

My reverie is interrupted by Aiden hitting me in the face with a balled up towel.

“Unnecessary,” I said, tossing it back, though he side steps being hit by it.

“Necessary as hell. You ain’t about to be reliving your lil sexcapade in front of me. We close but never will be that close,” Aiden said with a laugh, as he went over to pick up the weights for his turn. “Who is she.”

It no longer felt right to call Mila just my friend but it was hard to describe what we were becoming. If it were Rah asking me this question, I might have a better answer but since it was Aiden, I kept it simple. “Someone I care about,” I reply.

“One you don’t care about people, you be in love. Two, good, tired of you being sad and mopey. Three, you are a shit wingman so you better make her your girlfriend. You ain’t for the streets for real,” Aiden jokes, as he does his set without nearly the amount of struggle I did. 

“Man it’s not my fault you don’t have no game and you're right about that, I’m not for the streets. I want more than falling in and out of beds,” I said, with a shrug.

“Like I said, you be in love and ain’t nothing wrong with that. So what’s her name?” he asked.

“It’s Jamila and it’s too soon for the love word, so chill,” I replied. The last time I thought I was in love that turned out not to be the case.

“Look at you blushing and shit. Lying ass,” he chuckled, dropping the weights.

“Respect that I don’t want to give your nosey ass any details right now. Just know that she’s different,” I said.

“She better be. The last thing you need is another Mariah,” he said.

“Nah, I learned that lesson, trust me,” I said with a shake of my head. Being with Mila was like breathing with the full capacity of my lungs. I didn’t have to hesitate to be myself because everything I said mattered to her. It was a freedom that had been sorely missing from my life until now.

“Only took the rest of your twenties and eight months of walking around looking like an extra for a Jagged Edge video,” he said, causing me to snort.

“Dawg, I can’t fucking stand you sometimes,” I said, as laughter consumed us both.

This was the closest of a heart to heart we would have because Aiden didn’t do feelings. All he cared about was whether or not we were happy and how he could show up when we weren’t. That alone is why no matter how bad he got on my nerves I would always call him my best friend.

With most of my free time being split between watching over Granddad and hanging out with Mila, it had been almost a week since I had been by my parents house. After the hectic nature of the previous one, I needed some space. I think we all did as Veronica opted to spend last weekend at my apartment versus at home with our parents. She was a bit out of sorts after seeing our father collapse which was understandable. We had been having to face mortality a lot recently and she wasn’t even eighteen yet. When I walked in the house, I could hear her and her friends in the backyard most likely practicing tumbling. I’d give my greetings to them later and continue to let them have their fun undisturbed. Kicking my shoes off and placing them in the cubby in the foyer, I padded my way to the living room where I heard the TV on. Sitting in an armchair, looking like the spitting image of Granddad, was Pops.

“Hey Xay,” he greeted, as I walked over to him to slap hands. Like his father, he wasn’t overly affectionate to anyone other than my mother and sister. When I was ten, I came up with a handshake which became our thing. “Glad you stopped by. Your mother has me cooped up in here.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you. Doctor said you’ll be able to do light exercises next week though,” I said, as I took a seat on the couch.

“She’s feeding me rabbit food,” he deadpanned, causing me to chuckle at the exaggeration.”I might not make it that long.”

“Pops,” I said, shaking my head. “Too soon for death jokes.”

“Sorry but it’s how I feel. You know I don’t like being idle,” he said.

“You're not being idle, you’re recovering from a traumatic health event. I think that warrants some down time,” I said, for what had to be the twentieth time. There was something about getting older that made the adults in my life turn mulish in nature. They were less inclined to listen to reason and only wanted to do what they wanted while not taking account of the better options.

He nodded his head while picking up the remote. “You trying to watch this Yankee’s game with me?”

“Sure.”

I leaned back against the couch as he turned to the YES channel. While we watched the game, mom flittered back and forth, making sure Pops was taking his medication on schedule and bringing snacks. I was haphazardly picking pistachios out of my napkin of trail mix when Pops called my name.

“Yes sir,” I replied, looking over at him.

“We just struck out Boston’s best hitter and you didn’t have anything to say. What’s on your mind son?” Pops asked.

He was right. I couldn’t recall anything from this game because I had been trapped in my mind trying to figure out how I wanted to broach the subject of our relationship. However, like there would never be a perfect time, there weren’t going to be perfect words either.

“Honestly, I’m vacillating between being concerned about your well being and pissed about your lack of respect for me,” I said, sitting the napkin down on the coffee table.

“Well since your concern has been duly noted, let’s address the latter. What makes you think I don’t respect you?” Pops asked, as he sat up a bit straighter. A sign that he was actively listening to what I had to say.

Scrunching my face I said, “You did when you insinuated that I wanted to shirk my responsibilities to Granddad and tied that assumption to my character as a man.”

“Xay, I know dealing with Granddad isn’t easy but we are his family, and looking after another is what we do. A man looks after his family, come hell or high water, not passes those responsibilities over. I know you don’t have a family of your own yet but you would want your kids to do the same for you. Hell I want you to do the same for me if it ever comes to it and I’m not sure you will,” Pops said.

“What?” I said, with a raised brow. “How can you even say that shit to me with a straight face? I go above and beyond for this family.”

“Doing what is expected of you isn’t going above and beyond. It’s your duty,” Pops said.

“That’s semantics. Either way I show up, which is more than you can say.  I have a question for you, what’s the name of Granddad’s primary doctor? His neurologist? His physical therapist? Huh?” I asked.

“I don’t see-

“Yeah you don’t!” I said cutting him off. “You don’t see shit. You barely see how not easy it is dealing with your father, the man you supposed to take care of as the oldest of his children! So what kind of man that make you?”

Pop's face darkens with anger as he points a finger in my direction. “And who’s paying for those special doctors? Those medications? Not the V.A., I’ll tell you that. Who is paying the taxes on the house? The car? That’s the kind of man that makes me. I’m doing my part, I’m asking you to continue to do yours.”

“It’s easy to do your part when all it consists of is writing a check. You not getting cursed at and beat on when he can’t remember where he is in the middle of the night. You not getting called every name but your own. You not seeing the bruises on GiGi that he leaves when me, Chase or Ryan are not there,” I said, standing up, my anger roiling too much to remain seated. The feeling made me antsy so I slowly began pacing on the side of the coffee table.

“What?” Pops recoiled, sinking back against the chair. “What bruises? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you letting your mother, children, nieces, and nephews get beat on by a person who doesn’t even exist anymore. We take it because we love him too but it’s not right. None of us are trained medical professionals! We all work, we all tired, we all got shit going on but none of that is considered because of your idealization of what a man is supposed to be? Let me clue you in, a man should know how to make the correct decisions for his family. Not put them through hell because of their pride,” I spat out.

The more I thought about his inconsideration the more vexed I became. All of the frustration I had previously swallowed was churning in the base of my throat. The acid was on the tip of my tongue but I was trying my best not to blow up. Trying my best not to slip back into the angry child he knew me to be growing up because then he really wouldn’t listen to me. He would accuse me of being emotional and dismiss everything I said in one fell swoop.

“You think my reasoning is about pride?” Pops said, standing to his feet as well. “Let me tell you something boy, everything I do is because it was what I was told to do. When your grandfather first started losing his memory, he knew it was only a matter of time. He made me swear to keep the house and him in it! He trusted me to do right by him and that’s what I’m going to do. He wanted to be at home with his family until the end so that is where he will be.”

“That was before he knew his disease would make him violent,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That changes things.”

“It does, I’ll look into getting an overnight nurse at the house. I didn’t know he was hitting GiGi,” Pops said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“But you knew he was hitting us. Why wasn’t that enough for you to make this decision when this behavior first started?” I asked, squinting my eyes in confusion. 

“By the time I was your age, I had been hit more times than I can count. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” Pops said, waving my question away. He stood with his shoulders squared, no regret written anywhere in his countenance. 

“So because you suffered, I should? That’s your logic,” I chuckled darkly. “The crazy part is you don’t even realize how fucked up you sound.”

“I’m not going to apologize for looking after my family and trying to raise you right,” Pops said.

“I’m not asking you too, I’m asking for you to apologize for failing at it. I didn’t go to Rikers for no reason,” I said.

Indignified, he steps closer to me and I keep my eyes on him as he eliminates the space between us.  “Now, that was your own mistake. You and you alone decided to go joy riding in somebody else's car. Your mother and I gave you everything and you almost pissed it away being careless. Don’t you dare put that shit on me,” he said, pushing his finger into my chest. 

“Yeah it was my mistake but what do you think pushed me into making it? Your constant threat of signing me up for the army actually made prison more appealing. Not something you ever considered huh father of the year?” I questioned, causing his eyes to go wide at the confession before settling into a slant.

“Hey now, what’s going on in here? Why are y’all yelling in my house?” Ma asked, walking into the living room but Pops held his hand up signaling for her not to come any closer. 

“See that’s what I mean right there, you always want a loophole around hardships or something you don’t like,” Pops said, twisting my words.

“No, because I’ve been through plenty of hardships. I want a father who loves me for who I am and not what he wants me to be but fuck that,” I said, slapping my chest for emphasis.

“Your father does love you sweetheart. Come, let’s have a seat, this has gotten out of hand and we need to take a beat,” Ma says softly, inching closer to us.

“Mom is right. As my first born, I didn’t know what my heart looked like until you got here, so don’t be mistaken Xavier. I will love you every day until I leave this Earth and even after but I’m struggling to like you at this moment,” Pops said, his tone full of steel as he takes a few steps back from me, hands on his hips. 

“Alex Taylor!” Ma gasps, shaking her head, as her eyes shift wildly between us both. Words that have been ten years in the making have been purged for what seems like no reason. He still didn’t see me, maybe he never did, and maybe he never will.

Nodding my head, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. “Likewise.” I place a kiss on my mother’s forehead and move before she can pull me into a hug. The action hurts her but I can’t be touched right now. “I’ll call you Ma. Tell V, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay long.”

With that, I stalk out of the house, the front door slamming behind me. Music still pours from the backyard and I’m grateful my sister didn’t have to bear witness to that ugliness. My legs carry me several blocks away from the house. I’m walking in hopes to calm myself down but it’s not working. This isn’t the kind of anger that burns off. It’s the kind that makes you feel as if you are breaking into a million pieces. I don’t feel like trying to collect the fragments either. Reaching into my pocket, I call the one person who can make me feel something besides this darkness. The call is connected on the first ring. She takes one look at my reddened face and spares me from having to spill my guts with one question.

“You trying to lose at UNO?”

“AYE YOU CHEATING.”

“No I’m not, we agreed to stacking,” I laughed, as Papi looked across the table at my empty hands with nothing but disbelief. In a matter of seconds I had changed the course of game night between the trio when I won my first and then second, and third round of the card games. Mila was happy for my wins because the mother and son duo had been beating her for the previous hour they had been playing.

“Take your L Papi,” Mila said.

“Vengeance will be mine,” Papi says, reaching for the cards to reshuffle but Mari stops him.

“It will be yours another day. We’re going to the movies,” Mari said.

“We are?” he asks with confusion wrinkling his brow but I knew what Mari was doing. Although I came in smiling and was cracking jokes, my energy was off. Even Papi noticed because he was being nice for once. 

“Yes we are. Say goodbye,” Mari said, standing up from the floor where she had been sitting.

Papi made quick work of wrapping his arms around Mila. She gave his curls a playful tug as he held out his fist in my direction.

“See you little man,” I said, bumping his fist with mine. 

“You coming to my game on Friday?” Papi asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said. I know it was a big deal for him to ask me, that meant in some way he was accepting me into his orbit.

“You weren’t going to invite me?” Mila asked.

“You always come. Didn’t think I had to ask anymore,” Papi says with a shrug.

“Fair point,” Mila concedes with a smirk.

“Thanks y’all,” Mari smiled. It meant a lot to her to have Papi feel supported and having an extra person to help with that was appreciated. “Boy, bring yourself.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” Mila said, watching as they bounded out of the apartment. 

Once the door clicks shut I waste no time, pulling Mila across the couch, and settling her into my lap. I push my face into the crook of her neck and inhale deeply, she smells of jasmine and something warmer. Something uniquely her that makes me press a kiss there. Her arms wrap tightly around my shoulders and that’s how we remain for a while. The only sound that can be heard is the show Papi insisted we watch from the tv. I listen to her heartbeat and let it lull me into some semblance of peace. Her fingers trail gingerly across the nape of my neck, moving in small circles. I let the power of her presence subdue the remnants of my frustration. Nuzzling my nose against her skin caused her to hold me tighter.

“You hungry?” she asks after some time.

“Not really,” I replied.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked and it apparently took me too long to come up with the answer by the indication of her sucking her teeth. “I’m going to heat you up some pizza and wings. You go wash up. I cleaned your clothes from last time you were here this morning. They are in the chair in my room.”

“Aight, thank you,” I said, retreating from my hiding spot to give her a kiss.

“Nothing to thank me for, go,” she says, kissing me once more before hopping out of my lap so that I can stand. She turns and heads to the kitchen before I can tell her how untrue that is. I shake my head and head to the bathroom knowing how she feels about compliments. One day I was going to tell her about all the ways she made my life better by just being herself. For now, I’d let her think she was slick.

After my shower, she beckons me outside to the small balcony that’s attached to the living room by way of a sliding door. There’s enough space for a chaise and a black cocktail table which our plates rest on. It’s still warm out but the breeze makes it one of the nicer summer nights. As soon as I sit, she hands me a plate. I express my gratitude with a forehead kiss that she blushes at. 

“Are we talking about it or ignoring it?” she asks softly once I’ve eaten half of my food.

“Ignoring for now,” I said, finishing off a wing and looking over at her. “It took a fifty minute Uber ride and seven games of UNO for me to reach the level of calm I’m currently on.”

“Understandable. I don’t need the details to tell you that I’m proud of you and that your braveness is something I admire,” she says, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“I dunno, I’m feeling more foolish than brave,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin.

A part of me knew the conversation with my father would go left and I had been prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was how deep his need to regulate everything was. I walked in hoping to demand his respect and left wondering why I had wanted it in the first place. He claimed to love me but purposely let me struggle for almost two years to teach me some sort of lesson. Even when I brought up how he failed me he stood in a chamber of ego refusing to let it be chinked with the truth. 

“That’s the risk of vulnerability. No matter how long it may take you, you find a way to express yourself which is the bravest thing any of us can do in the face of rejection or disappointment. I want to be fearless in that way too, I’m trying to be at least,” she said, with a nervous laugh. 

Grabbing her by the waist, I placed her in my lap for the second time this evening needing to have her closer. Her long limbs wrap around me, securing our embrace. 

“You are and it’s beautiful,” I said, kissing her cheek. She was on the cusp of finding her purpose. I considered myself blessed to be able to witness the journey. “I don’t express myself to be brave, I do it to be heard. A side effect of being a military brat I suppose but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to hear you say that.”

“Either way, you do it, and that’s something,” she said, staring into my eyes warmly. Underneath the glow of the streetlight I’m bathed in her spirit. It’s a balm that lays over the rough parts of today so that I can make it into tomorrow. 

After a moment of openly gaping at one another, she pressed her lips to mine. I kissed her back, tangling my hands in her braids, and chose to get lost in her versus continuing this particular line of conversation. It may be something but that something had not been enough to get my father to hear me. So it was no longer worth lamenting over.

As if she can feel my thoughts traveling outside of this moment, she pulls away from our kiss, to flick the tip of my nose with her tongue.

“Why?” I questioned, as I began to tickle her sides. She squeals as she tries to escape but can’t due to the hold I have on her. The sound of her laughter evokes my smile.

“I regret nothing,” she laughs, as she leans in to do it again. “Now finish eating so we can go start the second Captain America movie because I need to see the full scene of them jumping Tony.”

Tilting my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I groan. “Stooppp watching MCU compilations on Tik Tok.”

[to-each-based-on-need]

I went to my first good meeting yesterday. It was non religious and mostly a share group about people facing adversity and having the strength and tools necessary to get through it with grace and gratitude. it was the first time I felt hope in a few days.

I did my relaxing bedtime routine. I actually wrote for the first time in forever. Years. I fell asleep reading. I got three and a half hours of sleep, which is the most I’ve gotten in a clip all week.

I woke up and cannot stop crying for missing him. I want to get better and I will get better because it is the only option where I survive. I just hate myself for squandering this opportunity. I moved back home at the beginning of 2020 because I was too depressed and addicted to function. It helped for a little, and getting away from the people that triggered me emotionally and triggered me to drink was helpful, for a time. I guess that part has always been helpful. The problem is I didn’t find new community. I thoughtI could do it alone. What hubris! There were lots of challenges I faced, and I didn’t have the tools to face them alone. I was living in my childhood home with my formerly abusive and deeply unwell alcoholic mom. I felt like I was fifteen again, except I was in my late twenties without the benefits of naturally-occurring community or hope. I had been taking such poor care of myself that at first, just not drinking every day was a huge accomplishment. But jesus, was it hard. I lived in that house for four years. I had a whole year sober, and worked on my mental health, but I still didn’t have any community I have never been good at making friends; I’m private and secretive and flirtatious. I has a few pleasant acquaintances through work, I still have them, but they have their own lives. I was so deeply depressed for so long that I foolishly pinned my hopes on moving out fixing everything. Then TJ and I got close and moved in together. He had seen me drunk once before and it was ugly. He told me if I ever drank again, he would leave. He is a person of principle. We moved in, and it has been so comparatively peaceful. It would have been a great opportunity to heal. It also brought up all my feelings of loneliness and hopelessness. I got homesick for parts of my life where I had people around I felt understood me. I missed old friends and lovers terribly. I resented him for making an ultimatum that made me feel like I couldn’t ask him for help. I realize now that feeling was something I could have explained more. Instead, I drank in secret and lied about it. At first, it was only a little. Then more frequent but not in insane amounts (probably insane to normal people, but I have no concept of what normal drinking is). Last weekend, I binged. There are a thousand reasons why: I wanted to celebrate feeling safe (WHYAREYOUDUMB); I was happy; I wanted to feel unrestricted; I was sad; I wanted to be able to relax; I wanted the confidence to reach out to the people I missed so much. That is such a shitty part. Sunday he confronted me and told me he knew I’d been drinking. I do not remember the rest well, but I remember telling him I had hid it because his ultimatum had made me feel I couldn’t talk to him. I remember trying to turn my shame into anger. Then I woke up and we weren’t talking. I went to stay at my mom’s. He told me he could eventually forgive me but couldn’t trust me and couldn’t be in a relationship with a person he couldn’t trust. And he’s right. I have been in panic mode since 2018. I have so much untreated trauma. I try, but I don’t have a lot of support and I kept not putting myself first.

The meeting last night made me feel good. Talking to people close who care has helped tremendously. But I’m still geographically alone. I don’t have anyone nearby I can cry to or be held by. I’m going to keep going to meetings until the miracle happens. But jesus. I let him become the one good part of my life. And then I threw it away. I want to beg him to give me another chance. I offered to go to couple’s therapy with him but he said he couldn’t think about that right now. I can hear him snoring in the next room and it is going to be the thing that helps me fall back to sleep. I genuinely feel like I can recover. I do not want to be without him. He is kind and this life we started building is so beautiful. I need to make him trust me again. I am hoping that showing up every day being a better person and offering him constant honesty and patience will help. Right now he doesn’t want to talk to me. How badly I want to go fall asleep in his bed right now. I will not, though. Boundaries. Jesus, when did I become so pitiful and codependent.

I also need so much therapy for codependency. I need to be up in two hours for a meeting because it will help. I am doing all I can to fall back to sleep. I just need a little bit of hope for a better life to get me through right now.