#people are more likely to look at pictures than words

[dollfacefantasy]

clark kent x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, mating press a/n: ummm yeah i need him so bad it makes me ill <3

for as long as you'd known clark, you'd never known him to lose his temper. he was forever-patient, your boyfriend. understanding to almost a frustrating degree. especially with you, his little love.

he was already pretty easy to get along with, but on the rare occasion you did have issues, clark seemed to have a natural instinct for deescalating you. he never raised his voice, never spoke an unkind word about you, never gave you a look harsher than what could be described as stern.

all it took to calm you down was a glimpse of his natural puppy-dog eyes and pretty plush lips. his thick arms would circle around you and hold you to his chest. he'd sway back and forth with you a little, a small smile on his face as you melted into the embrace. whatever semblance of tension or irritation that had been bubbling up easily dissolved into a puddle between the two of your bodies.

so, all that to say, you didn't really believe clark possessed any kind of rough edge or combative instinct. despite his large stature, you couldn't really picture him ever being rough.

that was until tonight.

you and clark had planned to drop by some event at the talon, but your sweet boyfriend had warned you earlier that he found out there'd probably be some trouble there later. some potentially dangerous situation that he wanted you avoiding at all costs. it was for your safety. he just wanted you to stay home where he wouldn't be worried while him and chloe investigated.

but did you listen to him? of course not. you went anyways, not in the mood to listen to his vague explanations as to how he even discovered this information in the first place. you put on a cute little dress with some new shoes you bought specifically for the night and took off.

unfortunately for you, clark had turned out to be right. not even thirty minutes after you arrived, chaos broke out. people flew through walls and glass shattered everywhere, all because of some guy who looked like his body could stretch and bend like a rubberband. it totally sucked. but none of that was even the worst part. you survived the craziness of whatever that person's problem was. the real danger came when the dust settled and you saw clark across the room staring at you.

he looked pissed.

he was at your side in an instant, but closing the distance didn't soften him any. it kind of did the opposite since up close he could see a bloody scrape stretching across your cheekbone.

you could see he was worried first and foremost, but behind that concerned top coat a fire burned. as soon as your small wound had been tended to, his long fingers clasped around your bicep. he pulled you to your feet and all but dragged you out of the coffee shop.

"clark i-" you started in an attempt to explain yourself.

"save it," he said, voice as cold as you'd ever heard it, "i asked you for one thing. that's it. stay home for your own good. don't come out here and pointlessly risk your life."

"it wasn't that bad," you defend weakly.

"but why even take the chance?" he asked with true exasperation, "i shouldn't need to convince you that your safety is more important than whatever they had going on tonight."

he didn't continue the lecture beyond that. just walked with a clenched jaw and motivated stare in the direction of his truck. like always, he opened the door for you when you got there. though this time, he practically scooped you up and dumped you into the car.

he was silent as he drove, fingers tight around the steering wheel. you could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. the urge to lash out for once was near spilling over. he pulled the car over, and you figured you were really in for it. in a way you were right, just not how you thought.

clark didn't bother yelling, didn't try to start a fight. he glared at you for a few silent seconds before leaning across the seats and crashing his lips against yours. he kissed you like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs.

after a blur of clothing being shifted around and positioning body parts awkwardly in the confined space, you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your life.

you were folded in half beneath all of clark's weight. the points of your new heels scraped up the truck's ceiling while your knees squished against your chest. little squeaks and whines slipped their way out of you as his tip battered against your cervix. he was so deep you swore you could feel your insides rearranging to make room for him.

"clarkkkk," you mewled before biting your lip, desperately searching for some way to ground yourself. one set of your fingers gripped strands of his dark hair while the other held a fist of his flannel.

"what, baby?" he panted. for once, clark wasn't fawning over you between thrusts. he wasn't cooing or praising you for taking him so well. instead, he had his face against your neck and his hands wrapped around your waist, bucking into your dripping heat with enough force to rock the car.

you tried to force out words to convey what you were thinking. too big. too much. so deep. harder. faster. none of those made it though. only choked moans and then a sharp squeal when he rolled his hips and struck that extra-sensitive sweet spot inside you.

"someone's gonna see if they drive by," you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

"maybe you should hold still then and let me finish, huh?" he grunted, "no one's gonna see. everyone's in town dealing with the mess from tonight. the one i told you was gonna happen."

"i didn't think-"

"i know you didn't," he interrupted, "didn't use that pretty little head at all, did you?"

words of defense eluded you right now, his nonstop thrusts keeping your mind cloudy. instead you chose to whine, your lip quivering he rolled his hips deeper yet again.

"oh yeah?" he asked, as if you'd said something coherent.

you opened your mouth again to speak, to really argue back this time, but you were cut off by your own desperate cry when his hands tugged you closer and speared you even further on his cock. you could feel him grinning against your neck at the noise.

"i know, baby. i know you're sorry. you don't have to explain. thinking's too hard for you right now, yeah?" he cooed, his tone bordering on mocking.

your pout got more severe but so did the needy sounds escaping your mouth. you felt those long fangs of his scrape against your throat. his tongue then glided across the area, making you shudder.

"clark-" you tried to say something else, but he cut you off. he raised his head up and kissed you deep again, swallowing the words right from your mouth. when he pulled back for air, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

"you can be such a brat," he breathed, "so much whining even though i know you love this."

the truck creaked as his movements continued to jostle it. you felt his breath fanning across your face and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. you knew he was getting close, but so were you. your cunt squeezed around him rhythmically, coaxing him too the edge along with you.

"you gonna cum, baby?" he finally muttered against your lips.

you nodded eagerly, more than ready to release. it only took a few more hard thrusts to get you there, and clark followed along no problem. in the afterglow, he laid on top of you for a minute or so, trapping you in a cage of searing body heat.

when he finally did sit up, the two of you fixed your clothes and stretched your limbs. he looked over at you with more tenderness. your boyfriend's gentle temperament had seemingly returned with the relief his peak brought.

he cupped your jaw with his fingers, looking over that cut on your face. leaning in, he gave it a small kiss before starting up the car again.

"i'm just trying to look out for you, you know? just... please listen next time. i don't know what i'd do if you got hurt. you had me worried sick."

"i will. i'm sorry i scared you," you replied softly. your eyes studied the loving look in his eyes and the way his features seemed so at peace now that all his adrenaline was out of his system.

you grabbed his hand across the seats and traced little patterns on his knuckles for the drive home. he let you play with his fingers but shot you a glance.

"i'm serious. next time you get involved with something like that i won't let you off so easy," he teased.

you smiled and nodded, wanting to put his mind at ease. though in the back of your mind, a small part of you considered trying again some time, just to see what "not so easy" looked like to him.

[soft-beams]

vi x reader, parallel universe!vi x reader | character death (reader)

ekko paints a picture of you.

"I wanted to show you something," Ekko tells Vi before he's leading her and Powder to where he's made his masterpiece. He doesn't know how Vi will react; if she'll be overcome with joy or overwhelmed with immense sadness.

Maybe she'll get angry and storm off, too hurt by the painting to truly express how she feels. But Ekko feels like doing this is worth that risk because hopefully, in a way, it will provide Vi with some closure.

When they reach the mural, Ekko stops and watches Vi and Powder take the remaining steps forward. He takes in how Powder's face lights up before she's pursing her lips with a slight tremble. He can tell that she's trying not to cry, and Ekko wants to pull her into his embrace and tell her that it's okay to let it out.

Vi's harder to read.

She's staring up at the mural, expressionless, and Ekko worries that he may have crossed a line. Vi's silence is deafening; it shakes him to his core, and he almost steps forward to apologise when Vi asks:

"Is this...them?"

Ekko swallows and nods as he replies, "Yes." He walks up until he's by Vi's side. "I took some artistic liberation and...imagined what they would have looked like if they hadn't..." Ekko stops himself, finding the words still too hard to say.

Vi stares and stares until she's closing her eyes, letting out a trembling breath.

"They're even more beautiful than I imagined," she whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear. Powder hears it too because she's smiling, sniffling as she wipes at her eyes.

"Yeah, a real looker," she says. "They were cute when they were younger, so it's no surprise that Ekko made them a bombshell." She looks at Ekko, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Should I be worried? Did you hold a candle for our dear friend here?"

Ekko chuckles and shakes his head. He's never held feelings of that sort for you. Yes, he did think you were pretty when he was growing up, but it never escalated beyond that. Besides, everyone knew that it was Vi you were going to end up with. Because it was you and Vi and Vi and you, and it was so obvious, the love you held for each other.

Still is obvious back in his own universe, but...he wishes he could have seen you thrive here. Happy and alive with no reason to run or hide. To be at peace with the people you love and who love you.

"They were everything to me," Vi says after a moment of silence. "They were my world in a way that was different from you guys." She gives a rueful chuckle. "Barely grown up, and we were already talking about getting married. We knew we wanted to be each other's for the rest of our lives." She then sighs. "Then that damn explosion happened, and they protected me. Made sure I survived, and I still...still deal with the guilt."

The silence settles among them again, but it only lasts for a second as Vi breaks it.

"But I know they wanted me to be here for Powder," she continues softly. "And know they'd be cursing me to the ground if they knew my thoughts." Her lips curve into a gentle smile. "But at least, I can look at her now and see her a bit more vividly in my dreams." She looks at Ekko, smile still in place. "Thanks, Little Man."

Ekko nods, unable to speak due to the tightness in his throat. If only...if only he could tell Vi that there's a universe where you did survive. A universe that isn't as great as this, but you're together and manage to find happiness despite all the shit thrown at you.

If only he could tell Vi that's what you really look like. That's how you've grown and how you've transformed.

If only.

But at least he can take solace in the fact that he's graced Vi with some form of closure.

In the form of a picture of you.

[muletia]

i read your post about megatron showing off like a bird. so perhaps i present you.. the other obsessed!bots showing off?

obsessed!optimus prime making sure his paint is in it’s best shape, practically shining from the amount of work he put into it and silently hoping, praying (and probably screaming) that you’ll praise him and, if you’re past the relationship faze, peg him enough to were he can act normally around the autobots to get another mission done without daydreaming again.

obsessed!ratchet constantly talking about his experience with his hands (he’s quite the medic, wink wink *dies*) and skills over the course of his long life, even talking about some of the impressive feats he managed to pull off.

and hell, maybe even some of the decepticon’s lean into this too. i especially think starscream would be the most likely to do this.

obsessed!starscream would probably brag about his feats when he was decepticon commander and things he did on Cybertron. Making sure to be in his best condition and showing off what his jet form can do, even doing those words made in air some people do with planes.

you are so big-brained anon, i love your ideas!!

i’ve decided to expand on optimus’s concept a bit and threw in a few other characters

optimus definitely forgets to take care of himself sometimes, or he simply doesn’t have the time due to the busy schedule. if we add a sprinkle of obsession to the mix, his lack of self-care can easily be attributed to the hours he spends daydreaming about you, you, and that one night you shared just a few days ago. but when he does finally get around to looking after himself and polishes his paint to the point where you can see your reflection in it, he’ll silently beg for crumbs of praise from you. he might still have that resting prime face, but if you compliment him, bro is mentally screaming, giggling, and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl. he might even strut around proudly after your kind words, shocking the rest of the team.

i haven’t written about him yet, but… smokescreen showing off his speed to impress you? or honestly, doing anything extreme to get your attention. handstands, backflips, showing how agile he is. and when he takes you for a ride, suddenly he’s drifting or doing donuts. isn’t he just so cool? please, say he is—smokes will do absolutely anything for your approval.

soundwave will bring you gifts. did you mention a game you’ve been dying to have? a few days later, a copy of that game shows up in your steam library. are you into diy? he hands you an enormous box of various types of yarn. or brings you shiny, colorful stones that caught laserbeak’s optic during patrol. imagine him presenting you with a giant gold nugget or gemstones worth a fortune.

knockout will use his body but in a more sensual, seductive way. he’s always polished and pristine, and his finish practically screams for attention. but if, somehow, that doesn’t work on you, knockout is more than willing to behave like an absolute attention whore. oh no! he’s totally accidentally dropped something on the floor! and instead of bending down like a normal person, he’s about to give you the most sensual show you’ve ever seen (picture that one scene with megan fox from the first transformers movie lmao).

[hachiane]

ranking the LADS boys on who takes the best Instagram photos

a/n — just my headcanons!! may be OOC, majorly she/her reader pronouns

count : 950 words

#1 Rafayel Qi

— takes one look at your inspo photos and scoffs, “puh-leaase, i can do better than that.”. under his calm exterior, his painter's eye is roaring to life, the gears in his brain immediately turning when your phone is passed into his hands.

Rafayel matches your freak instantly and pretends he is like every photograph boyfriend every it-girl online seems to have; he's guiding you to pose, where to place your hands, tilt your face so he captures all your best angles, even the ones you didn't think you had. your personal hypeman as he snaps away, "yesss, cutie! you look so good!' "kill me with those sexy eyes of yours!" "makeup on point! show off your pretty lashes!"

it doesn't end there. Rafayel is also looking over your shoulder helping you choose the best shots, giving his small comments and suggestions as you edit them in your phone, things like "up the contrast, the shadows are dark in this one" or "why are you cropping like that? this makes you look taller".

after your impromptu photoshoot, he sings praises about you being the most beautiful muse, the cutest bodyguard. and of course, you have to take some couple selfies with him too as reward for his hard work.

Rafayel is your first like, first comment when you post, bombarding your notifications with comments. “that’s my bodyguard right there 😍” “you’re sooooooo hot 🔥🔥” “slay queen 💅🏼✨”

he'll do everything again, no doubt about it.

#2 Xavier Shen

— when you asked him the first time, he was hesitant. he says he read a book about it but never put it to practice, warning you that you might be disappointed. you shove your phone into his hands and that you're fine with whatever he gets in the end. (unintentionally that awakens his inner prince, determined to ensure his princess look her best in every frame)

the entire time, Xavier says nothing. you hear him snap away and hum to himself, but he's not saying anything to you; doesn't tell you how to pose, where to place your hands or if you should be looking at him. so most of the time, you’re by yourself testing out the poses you saw online and placing your blind, full-hearted trust that he gets the picture you imagined. 

the thing is, while poses look good on you, Xavier behind the camera much prefers your candid moments, because these says much more about you than poses other people have thought of. you in your natural state is the most beautiful to him, and he says so, “i only take pictures of pretty things and you like this is the most pretty to me”.

later, being the old soul he is, he purchases a polaroid printer to get physical copies of your photos and stashes them away in a journal or box, for these memories of you deserve to last lifetimes.

#3 Sylus Qin

— his pictures of you are decent enough. when you asked him the first time, he says he’ll get you a personal photographer if you so desire good photos, but your cutesy pleading and debating your point about the sentimental value of photos taken by him makes him give in. he follows your inspo photos to the T, but because of his height, you notice the angles are slightly higher than what they should be. like Xavier, he doesn't tell you how to pose; he just taps away on the shutter button as he moves around you here and there, occasionally hunching down for a low angle shot, with his other hand in his pocket, nonchalant as Sylus usually is.

accidentally left the live photo feature on for most of your photos, and while perturbed at first, those become his favourites; he gets to see a glimpse of your genuine smile at his ministrations before your expressions snap into a smouldering, radiant look that he would fall to his knees for time and time again. he sends the photos to himself afterwards without asking, shrugging when you question him about it when he was being so indifferent at first, “sentimental value, kitten”.

#4 Zayne Li

— unfortunately, Zayne takes photos like an aged father with two daughters; straight on, no angles, no direction, not much effort given the first few times. but after seeing your slightly disappointed look as you review the photos, even when you reassure him you're okay with them, he knows he’d done you wrong.

the next day, Zayne promptly asks his female colleagues and acquaintances with a photography hobby at the hospital for some tips and crash courses. of course they oblige him (because who could say no to the Dr Zayne when he asks for a favour?) with simple go-tos and the tricks. and Zayne being Zayne, he notes them all down in his personal notebook, studies it in his downtime, brings it home to read and practice on some "subjects" lying around the house: your collectible figures, the fresh bouquet for the living room, and so forth.

the next time the opportunity comes up, he breaks it to you he's been studying for this exact moment and asks if you would give him another attempt. although the photos end up not what you expected when he said he's been "learning", it's miles better than the first few times. Zayne would look at you expectantly for your reaction, and he heaves a sigh of assured relief when you compliment his improvement. when you post the recent photo he took of you, he cracks the widest smile he's had all week, liking and saving the photo to make it his phone background (though you've probably already sent it to him).

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 8

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8])

so anyway rio could have stepped in at any moment and ejected billy into oblivion / prevented agatha from getting a full recharge. but did she? no, no she didn't. this is absolutely a fucked up game they're playing instead of talking about their feelings. rio tried to talk and agatha rejected her (almost) every time, so theatrics and blood it is! god it sucks so much that this stupid flirt/hurt/posture/dance is the only way agatha allows them to communicate.

agatha's smirk! she's like, now you're gonna get it! now I'm gonna fuck you up!!! rio has been throwing her around like a rag doll, but now that she has her powers back agatha can finally put allllll her shields up and do a little show of her own.

when it comes to agatha everything is about being in control of the narrative, being the one who hurts rather than being hurt, never showing any weakness or vulnerability. she was awfully vulnerable without her powers and that has allowed rio to creep in closer, something that agatha had managed to escape for so long. it's no coincidence that she chooses this appearance, the same one she chose when going face to face with wanda. this is what she was trying to look like with her purple coat too: the formidable, merciless witch. it's an armor she clings to, a mask to feel powerful that won't ever show the mess she's hiding underneath. this is what agatha chooses to look like when she's scared.

rio: fuck off you little meddling twink the adults are talking

agatha: mwhahahah I'm such a big scary villain just lemme check if billy's okay real quick.

actually let me gush for a second about agatha's greenhouse being full of herbs and potions! her witchy basement disappeared because she had built it with a magical illusion, but in here she's been totally experimenting with physical craft (neeeerd).

billy's like, are those two fuckers honestly actually flirting right now

CHILDREN I swear to god

LEAVE MY INFURIATINGLY STUPID EVIL MOM ALONE!!!

poor rio. just her luck that when she finally gets to corner agatha a baby maximoff comes into the picture. I love my perfect mama's boy.

the bittersweet look she gives billy. she's truly having a lot of firsts, now she finally admits that all her dancing/fighting with rio is futile, it's just for show and it won't ever truly solve anything. what is she even doing, involving billy? billy who's still so earnest, so eager to help.

I SEE YOU JAC SCHAEFFER! I SEE YOUR EVIL WAYS! I SEE YOU CREATING THESE SILLY LITTLE SHOWS SO YOU CAN EXPLORE THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF LOSS AND GRIEF AND OUR OWN MORTALITY!!!!

but she's being 100% genuine here???

okay, no, this is still agatha we're talking about.

she's being aT LEAST 80% GENUINE! she's having a moment of clarity, she's contemplating the true awfulness that would be sacrificing billy on the altar of her own fucked up issues. the mask has slipped and the real agatha is peeking through, swords in her heart and all.

her parting words to billy: you are not bad. the same words she wanted to imprint on him when they had their first mask off conversation. don't let people cast you as a villain, like they did with me.

Neither are you, says Billy.

You're the only one who thinks so.

The thing is, being so hated, doing all the fucked up things she does, really hurts agatha. It's no justification whatsoever, doesn't make her any less of a villain. she goes out of her way to be misunderstood, to never show any weakness, to selfishly rationalize all the horror she inflicts, because the alternative is opening up to more potential hurt, and she's been hurt too fucking much in the past. and the more she pushes people away, the lonelier she is. it's a vicious circle.

three people loved her despite it all: rio, and she ran away from her when things got too overwhelming. nicky, and that's a whole other mess that I'll get into next episode.

and now billy loves her, and she craves that love just as much as she wants to run away from it. she'll hurt billy to protect herself, she'll hurt him first because she's afraid that he eventually will leave or die or get mad and will hurt her. because right now? she's feeling so much love for billy, and that's terrifying to her. the more she loves, the more she opens up to heartbreak.

both gorgeous shots

billy: I'm not that nice.

also billy:

then she got an idea. an awful idea. agatha got a wonderful, awful idea.

oh this is perfect, isn't it, agatha? you somehow convinced the boy to turn himself in! if he goes through with it, rio has promised to leave you alone! you'll be free to crawl back to your dark dark corner and accumulate bodies and power like the old miserable smaug you are!

you can see agatha's survival instinct kick into high gear. this is how she has survived so long. this is what she does.

BILLY'S FACE. I got to laugh a bit, sorry kid.

rio shaking her head both in triumph and exasperation. of course you betrayed the kid, agatha you piece of shit. rio didn't expect any less from you.

and she can't even look at him, the coward.

but I thought we were having a moment??

he went ahead and made a grand gesture without being ready to actually sacrifice himself whatsoever, and now he's going "mom??? come back and pick me up, I'm scared??" it's like agatha is kicking a puppy.

the slow, dramatic turn. the evil grinchy grin. this is the most egregious example yet of agatha putting her mask on, and we have all the context to understand exactly what she's doing and to see what's going on both on the surface and inside her wretched little soul. she's not cruel and uncaring, that's play acting - she's actually small and scared and a coward. she's once again running away screaming, rationalizing it as a smart choice and breaking her own heart in the process.

so I know billy's telepathic line was added in post because disney execs feared audiences wouldn't buy agatha turning around on her own. what absolute buffoonery, such massive disregard for your viewers' intelligence.

...on the other hand. billy full on misreading the situation and trying to fix things that are beyond him, only to accidentally hit the target? somehow fixing a delicate fragile problem by hitting it with a hammer? totally on brand for him.

is this how nicky died? it kind of is. she did choose her own fear over nicky's well being, despite loving him so so much.

whether you choose jac's version or disney's version, here's what happens next: agatha stops in her tracks. her stupid grin fades away, and she clutches her chest. she finally did it, she told a lie too big. her poor heart, already bleeding from all the swords stuck in it, simply cannot take one more stab. sure she's all about self-preservation, but at this point she's damned either way: she either goes out saving billy or she's killed by her own regrets and sorrow.

she turns around. she runs. not to billy. to rio.

going back to what my mother jac schaeffer (whom I love more than jesus or pizza) said: this is not agatha enacting a grand plan, she's not taking a ~calculated risk like she'll tell billy later, the fucking liar that she is. sure, she had a vague hope of turning into a ghost, but she didn't know for sure. this is agatha's emotions taking over her brain - like they tend to - and forcing her to use what are probably her final moments on earth to TAKE WHAT SHE'S BEEN CRAVING ALL ALONG

agatha grabs rio's face and SMASHES their mouths together. FULL ON proceeds to EAT HER FACE she wants her so much. rio is shocked for a moment and then closes her eyes and gives in completely. and you can see the poison taking over because this idiot - this gorgeous, tragic dork - has decided to kill herself by absorbing rio's powers - but this is not going to be a mere 'peck of Death', no sir, that's not what it's called! agatha is gonna SNOG Death, she's gonna TONGUE that immortal being, she's GETTING ALLLLL HER MONEY'S WORTH. dear lord the HUNGER and YEARNING and DESPERATION on her face.

and I love that she's taller here. they're basically the same height so who's taller depends on the shoes they're wearing, but I love love love that agatha gets to engulf her for once. agatha taking control, rio giving herself up completely

what? you thought that now that magic has been absorbed THE KISS would be over???? well THINK AGAIN. because now we're going to switch angles, we're going to linger, we're going to make it look like almost gratuitous fan service, oh yes we are!!!

I truly don't know what to say. I would like to thank jac of course, and kathryn hahn and aubrey plaza for MAKING THE FUCK OUT and exchanging so much spit on camera like the true professionals they are. thank you writers room, thank you to all the crew who had to listen to the ungodly noises these two were undoubtedly making. thank you gandja monteiro for directing this. I'm going to even thank the lighting department for making it thunder so we can (more or less) see what's going on. this was truly a group effort. well done you all!

and they keep kissing until the very last available moment, and rio doesn't know how to let her go

but this is so on brand for agatha. you know if rio was in her place she'd try to be as gentle as possible to ease agatha's grief. agatha literally went for the most dramatic, most over-the-top, most emotionally devastating way to go. this was supposed to be rio's big moment! and what does agatha do? she makes it all about herself. again. should be the other way around, but once again rio gives, agatha takes. you just gotta laugh at this point.

Death looks on stone faced as her love turns back to nature and balance is restored. she wraps herself in her cloack and tries very, very hard not to cry.

agatha really went and made rio kill her, didn't she? rio, who isn't ALLOWED TO. these two are soooo wrong and so toxic for each other and yet they love each other so freaking much, I truly cannot get enough of them.

[lotsofsq]

THANK YOU SO MUCH I COULD CRY i was grinning wider with every word oh my gosh thank you so much i’m so so happy to hear about you noticing, and finding joy in the little things i add!!

id love to tell you about my process! i love rambling about why i do certain stuff because sometimes i don’t even realize until after it’s down! often i have a feeling of a picture in my head and i just need to think of how to capture it

overall i try to do what feeeels right, but i often focus the most on differentiating eyes, i like for my designs to have distinct eyes and i was really able to do that with TMBS.

also with the colors they are a perfect set like the minimum pack of crayons

for reynie: i really wanted him to look gentle but not completely round, he’s very dependable so that leans more toward square shapes. reynie has always had a very specific look in my head because for years i pictured him looking like one of my childhood friends. his eyes both, look more asian, and lower eyelids often make a character appear more calm. the clovers are a little indicator i put often to show like?? good will almost? idk how to describe it but like when you can see the genuineness of someone.

for sticky: he’s such a nervous ball of energy and so sweet, he has this really round visual energy his eyes really mirror the shape of his glasses, big open eyes can be nervous or observant, in this case both! sticky has always been that deep blue color in my head, deep blue is a great indicator of vastness; the ocean, the night sky. fits well. yes little nervous sweats.

for constance: the epitome of angry squishy little kid, the almost white hair actually makes her look younger, since most people’s hair darkens as they age. i love her little tiny eyes, it makes her look like a stuffed animal. and i feel like the hair clip shows there are people who care enough to put it there. the little jagged lines always make me think of glaring and intensity

for kate: out of all the kids her eyes are the most realistic, she has a true eyelid and a natural shape to her eyes. i’m not entirely sure why i like to do that but i might be because i find her very wise, old soul kind of deal. i tried to make her look slightly older than the boys and i just adore her sunny disposition and humor, it’s so important for her personality. of course hee symbol is little rays of light coming off of her.

all these answers are kinda all why i did things instead of how, if you want that for anything i’d love to tell you if i can but i’m not sure that will be very interesting its a lot of trying until it feels right.

-

once again thank you so so much for this i hope you enjoy my response! it really touches my heart to hear people try to pick apart my art it makes me so happy

THE MYSTERIOUS BENEDICT SOCIETY!!!!!!

i’ll be posting most of my stuff chronologically so enjoy my journey

[ID copies from alt text: four headshots of the four society members: reynie is smiling calmly, his hair is sweeping left over his forehead. he is wearing a green sweater vest with a line of little sprouts on it over a button down. sticky has a nervous expression, he is fully bald. he is wearing a blue sweater over a button down. constance looks peeved and has wispy blonde hair with red hair clips. she is wearing a red coat over a yellow shirt. kate is excited and winking, her gold blonde hair is in a high ponytail. she is in a red and white striped t-shirt. all 4 have emphasized lines around them in their respective colors: reynie has green flowers, sticky has blue sweat beads, constance has red jagged lines, and kate has yellow radial lines around her. ]

[joongieology]

Muse | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: mention of naked body

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.

You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.

That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.

He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.

Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.

You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.

"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.

"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.

"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.

You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.

"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.

"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.

You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.

After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.

Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.

You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.

"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?

Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.

"Wanna see what's inside?"

"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.

He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.

There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.

He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.

Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.

"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.

"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.

"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.

It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.

"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"

It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.

"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.

He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.

He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."

"I love you more, Woo."

You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.

Huh?

When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.

"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.

"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.

"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.

"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.

"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.

Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.

Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.

You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.

[star-hoon]

number one girl

"I'd give it all up if you told me that I'll be, the number one girl in your eyes"

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[WORK IN PROGRESS!]

PAIRING. sunghoon x fem reader (best friends-to-lovers! au)

WARNINGS. profanity, (will be updated once complete)

WORD COUNT. (will be updated once complete)

SUMMARY. you always admired your best friend sunghoon. but when did that admiration turn into something...more?

DISC. this story is entirely fiction & does not reflect any real events of the idols mentioned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. omfg this was so cheesy

pls give me feedback, i'd love to improve my writing so any and all critique is welcomed <3

you can still remember the first day you met sunghoon.

it was the first week of the semester at university and in physics class you were partnered up with jake, the handsome austrailian student (much to the other girls' dismay). although you of course could admit jake was very charming and handsome, you saw him as a lot more than that. he was smart and always patient to give you some extra tutoring when you didn't quite understand what was taught in lecture, genuinely kind, and it was so entertaining to see him never pass up a chance to show you a new picture of his dog layla.

jake invited you to his birthday party at an arcade that also had things like escape rooms and an ice skating rink. you've never met any of jake's friends before so you really didn't know what to expect but after some drinks and games in the arcade, it wasn't too hard to ease your initial nerves around the group of strangers.

"you HAVE to see sunghoon ice skate, i swear he's more coordinated on ice than walking on the ground..." wonyoung says to you as the group walks to the ice skating rink. she was one of the girls there that you got along with really well and she was super friendly right off the bat.

"really? huh... sorry i'm really bad with names, who's sunghoon again?" you nervously laugh to her.

she points to the dark haired boy laughing with heeseung as you all get in line to get you ice skates.

"he used to compete in international ice skating competitions...almost working towards olympic level. but he decided to drop competing to focus on his studies. don't let him try to convince you he just 'skates for fun'... you'll see what i mean," she had a lingering fondness in her eyes.

you couldn't help but to wonder what wonyoung meant but you got your skates and laced them on the benches lining the rink of ice.

"before we all get in the rink, i think it's only fair sunghoon gives a little show before we all totally eat shit on this ice" jake announces to the group, everyone laughing along with him.

your gaze falls on sunghoon, noticing the faint blush on his cheeks with all the attention now on him. you see his faint smile and waving his hands, declining jake.

"oh cmon sunghoon! please! some people here haven't seen you on the ice and you've been telling me you've been dying to skate again..." sunghoon finally gave in.

"fine fine, only because it's your birthday," sunghoon jokingly rolled his eyes. everyone cheered as you all gathered along the wall of the rink. the minute sunghoon started gliding along the ice, it was like a switch flipped. you felt like the person you were watching wasn't that shy boy you briefly met a few hours ago. his aura radiated a confidence but also a sense of comfort. you could feel his emotion with every turn and twirl. you could see his visible passion and love of skating. he was smiling so wide, his fangs poked out and you couldn't help but to smile as well. it was the kind of smile you wanted to stare at forever.

he was freestyling to whatever music that was playing over the speakers of the skating rink but you could tell he didn't need choreography to shine brighter than any of the white fluorescent lights in the building. you understood what wonyoung meant, he truly looked more comfortable on ice than on the ground—and you grew more and more curious about sunghoon.

when he concluded his impromptu performance, you all applauded and jake along with the other boys entered the rink cheering sunghoon on, hugging him and ruffling his hair. you entered the rink, you heart hammering out of your chest in nervousness and anxiousness. you've never ice skated before and you already knew you would make a total fool of yourself in front of everyone.

"wonyoung, i've never ice skated before...can i hang on to you?" she chuckled at your nervousness, finding you adorable.

"of course, here hang on to my arm until you get the hang of it. we can stay near the wall" the few circles you did around the rink was less you hanging on to wonyoung and more you having a death grip on the ledge of the wall—stopping every 2 feet feeling beyond imbalanced. you let go of wonyoung making a full stop.

"i'm gonna rest for a little bit, you can go hang out with the others" you stated trying to cover your labored breath.

"are you sure?" she questioned. "yeah! go for it! i'm just gonna take a breather, i'll join you in a sec" you reassured her. she gave you her signature sweet smile and skated towards the rest of the group.

after a few moments of watching the rest of the group from afar, you attempted to skate towards the center of the ice to join the rest of the group. without knowing still how to maintain your balance and the wall no longer within arms reach, you knees completely buckle under your weight. you were pretty much bracing for impact to have your hands and knees to collide with the harsh coldness of ice at your feet. before you could even fully comprehend it, you felt a pair of arms catching you, slightly easing your fall.

"woah that was a close one. are you okay?" it was sunghoon. his face was close to yours, close enough for gaze to fall on the concerned look in his dark orbs and the mole on his cheek and nose.

"y-yeah i'm fine! t-thanks for saving me, i totally ate shit." you joked, a cold sweat running down your spine in utter embarrassment.

"no worries, thankfully i got to you in time. and don't even worry about it, being on ice takes a ton of practice." his arm still holding onto yours helping you get up. he guides you both back to the wall.

"you're really good at ice skating by the way, like crazy good" he let out a soft chuckle at your compliment blushing. you knew he probably heard that a million times before.

"thank you, it's y/n right?" you nod.

"can i ask why you quit? wonyoung told me about how you used to compete but left to focus on school," the echos of the group's chatter and laugher being background noise to your conversation.

"yeah that's the main reason. i guess that's the simple explanation i give people..." his voice trailing, as if there's more to the story. you raise your eyebrows at him, hinting at him to keep explaining.

“it got pretty lonely in all honesty. competing i mean. i made friends through skating and stuff but when i trained and performed in a competition…i was alone through it all. it made me start to dislike the sport all together…” he sighed. “…and that was really hard for me. and i decided to step down from competing and just skate as a hobby now.”

he saw your solemn expression and reassured you the best way he could. “but it’s good now. truly. i think skating in a setting like this, with friends and just having fun healed my relationship with it.” you both looked out to the group, laughing in unison seeing ni-ki chase jake excitedly.

“basically the best way i can describe it being on the ice now feels like reuniting with an old friend…” sunghoon expresses, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

“wow, i had no idea. thank you for telling me. for what it’s worth, i think you’re really brave.” you caught him tilting his head with a questioning look.

“well, i mean it takes a lot of courage to give up sometimes. especially something you put so much time and energy into…i feel like so many people think it's automatically a waste or a shame to give something up. but sometimes its just a redirection and sometimes its for the better.”

“y-yeah, exactly…” sunghoon looked at you stunned. you’re the first person to openly and fully understand his story and he didn’t even need to explain it to you his reasoning.

“i think you’re the first person who actually understands.”

you hummed in delight, smiling at him. “looks like we’ll get along pretty well”

“yeah i guess so” he smiles back.

you could feel the sincerity and warmth in his smile. it was different than the ones he gave you earlier. it was a smile you wanted to see again and again.

since that day at jake’s birthday, you and sunghoon have been inseparable. he was your best friend and you trusted him more than anyone else in the world.

he was reliable, he understood you in every way, and he accepted you even at your lowest—not judging you about your past.

you and sunghoon slept over at each other’s apartments all the time, even having each other’s a spare key.

sunghoon crashed at your place that previous night, you two pulling an all-nighter studying and your apartment being closer to campus than his. you two would sleep in each other’s bed but always staying on each other’s side—simply sleeping side by side, most of the time with your backs facing one another.

he had class earlier than you—his dreaded phone alarm going off, both of you stirring awake.

you pulled the covers over your head, groaning at the awful triggering sound of the alarm as sunghoon shut it off. he laughed quietly at your misery.

“hoon, why the fuck did you sign up for an 8am calculus class. who even voluntarily does that…”

"guess i'm a masochist," he sarcastically states, stretching and letting out a yawn. he reaches over your half-awake body, still covered by the blanket still to grab his glasses off your nightstand.

he basically puts all his body weight on top of you, borderline crushing you in the process dramatically reaching towards the table, a mischievous smirk on his face fully aware of his actions.

"hoon! ughhhh you're so annoying, you're crushing me" your voice muffled under the sheet. he laughs, amused by teasing you especially early in the morning when you're the grumpiest.

"sorry my bad" laughter still littering his voice. when you finally feel his weight off your body, you pull down the sheet from over your head.

you didn't realize sunghoon was still hovering over you, his arms on either side of your upper body. his gaze held something different in it, something you've never seen in his eyes before.

was there something in the air? were you starting to fall ill?

you and sunghoon joked around all the time and were in close proximity of each other all the time. maybe seeing each other at embarrassing moments one too many times, but this felt different.

the blue tint of the morning light peeking through your curtains illuminated his figure above you. the white tank top he always wore to sleep emphasized the contours of his defined arms, the thin silver chain adorning his collarbones reflected specs of light. and his messy hair and glasses wasn't helping your suddenly and unconsciously racing heart.

he was close. like really close. maybe too close for two people that were just friends. the air around you two felt thick and it was like you were holding your breath, maybe you were.

sunghoon slowly raised his hand, using his finger to brush a stray hair away from your face. and you swear his gaze wandered from your wide eyes to your lips. his touch lingered down to trace your jaw slightly.

he suddenly pulls away from your body, rising from the bed. he grabs his hoodie draped over your desk chair pulling it over his head and walking towards the bathroom—as if nothing had happened.

— should i continue writing?

taglist (open!): 

@laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains @luv-jungwon106 @woniebae

@gudkc @enha-stars @dimplewonie

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, comments & shares are always appreciated!!

[voidsturn]

title: no. 1 party anthem

pairing: stranger!chris x stranger!fem!reader

plot: while suffering with the consequences of unprocessed hurt, loneliness and self-hatred, chris is forced to yet another party. he finds himself in a conversation with someone new, which proves to be weird, comfortable, stupid and real.

type: fluff (maybe hurt/comfort), strangers au, close proximity, open ending

warnings: this fic does touch on some sensitive topics but i’m not sure it qualifies as angst. mentions of anxiety attacks, alcohol, smoking/vaping and sex

author’s note: ahhh my first fic on this blog! i’m extremely excited and nervous cuz it’s somewhat longer than i expected but oh fuck. yes, i know this song isn’t actually a happy love song but i just couldn’t bring myself to give them an unfortunate ending. i might in the future but i didn’t want my first fic here to be completely angst (there will be in the future tho, no worries about that) for now, i really do hope you like this!

chris - orange | the girl - pink | nick - purple | matt - blue

“chris, are you making your goddamn piss in there?!” screamed nick, while almost breaking down the bathroom door. he was getting on chris’ nerves, probably more than the thumping bass of some party song or the loud moans of some hookup next door. he was still breathing weirdly but told nick to just leave him alone. nick shortly after, gave up and ran towards the dance floor once he heard the first few beats of some charli xcx song.

while getting out of the bathroom, chris got stopped in his tracks. it was some idiot who couldn’t hold his fucking liquor better than a toddler. he was on the verge of punching that same idiot in the face. “jeez, can you walk like a normal human you fucking moron?” chris realised the asshole spilled some of the disgusting drink on his previously crisp white shirt. he couldn’t believe the theme of this party was ‘classy’. in a matter of thirty minutes, chris almost had an anxiety attack, was caught squatting in the bathroom by his own brother, heard some really unfortunate noises next door, and got his only formal shirt ruined.

chris was stuck replaying the last few moments in his head when the drunk idiot dodged chris and basically threw himself into chris’ safe space - the last empty bathroom. muttering a string of curse words, chris decided to give up on this ‘stupid fucking party’. he thought, or was hoping, that at least matt might be having a bad time as well. in a borderline ritualistic way.

once he saw some familiar faces, chris interrupted a discussion about pokémon between matt and sam. “chris, is it okay if we leave in an hour? i’m finally having a nice time at a party”. matt just said the words he thought would never leave his mouth. sam and colby along with matt tried to calm down the clearly uneasy chris. all he wanted was some fucking peace. chris was getting so goddamn overstimulated, he was fully ready to accept the jail time of a few murders. he wasn’t ready to take an uber either so he just basically ran towards tara after colby told him where she was.

while walking towards tara, chris was so fucking done. doomed actually to be at this party. the big hall felt endless with the maze of sweaty, icky bodies of completely wasted people on the dance floor. this, coupled with the strobing led lights and almost deafening party playlist, proved to be the final boss of overstimulation for chris. he finally reached tara, who was hosting the ‘stupid fucking party’. tara immediately knew chris wasn’t feeling good once he started to frantically ask if there was someplace less chaotic. she said that there’s a rooftop where she saw people go for a smoke.

tara made it seem like the rooftop was a chimney when in reality, there were only three other people. two of them were on their phones, editing pictures taken hours ago, occasionally taking a hit of something bubblegum flavoured. the third was looking at the city skyline. the rooftop was dimly lit with a few fake lamps, streamers and rogue balloons from the loud party downstairs. it was pretty small in size so chris was basically forced to go near the third girl. she had on a sparkly dress. her hair was up in a ponytail with bangs. chris thought she looked pretty but was in no mood to chit-chat cause the environment still reeked of alcohol, pretend and bubblegum. the alcohol smell was probably cause of his ruined shirt. chris walked towards the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the edge, slyly looking for a ‘fucking place to sit’.

he questioned why he was feeling way more sad than at the previous parties he had been forced to. sad wasn’t the word. more like left out. numb… lost even. yeah, his brothers and friends were all present downstairs, having the time of their fucking lives. but why couldn’t he? maybe he wasn’t in a good place mentally. he hated himself and his fucked up predicament for that while the others were just living it up, talking to other excited strangers, dancing, enjoying the ‘stupid fucking party’.

thoughts of self hate started their inevitable projections onto others. in a weird way chris felt almost betrayed. he hated coming across as a complainer but on the way to the party, matt was quick to say shit like leaving in half an hour, while nick was ranting about hoping tara didn’t invite the same morons from two weeks ago. all that bitching and moaning and praying and hating and now nick’s probably dancing his heart out to some ariana grande remix while matt’s chatting with people about fucking pokémon. just pokémon actually, that was phrased really weird.

it wasn’t always like this. all three of them were supposed to be in LA for business and pretend to like this. but at this point, nick and matt were getting a bit too good at pretending and chris just wasn’t. hence the shocking betrayal. now chris knows that entire cycle of thoughts started okay and just spiralled. completely outta his hands. now, he hates that he thinks like this about his two favourite humans in the world. thus began the voices in his head.

“you’re such a loser, useless without your brothers, and still you’re thinkin’ shit like this. fucking pathetic. don’t even have a fucking driver’s license? scared of having a girlfriend? again, you’re fucking pathetic. stop crying and whining and complaining like a stupid baby and suck it up for the love of-”

chris was quick to pull out his nearly dead phone and hence began his doom-scroll during moments like this. he wanted to avoid this shit, at least till he was in the comfort of his own bedroom. he heard the ‘sparkly’ girl behind him muttering and breathing? if anything, he thought she was staring at him cause of the two burning holes he felt at the back of his head. ugh, the one time he doesn’t have a hat or beanie on. he hoped ‘taylor swift doppelgänger’ took the hint that he wanted to be left to his own goddamn devices.

she didn’t. of course she didn’t cause that’s just who she is.

“you should sit down. that glass railing isn’t as strong as it seems. wouldn’t wanna witness a-”

“i got it, thanks” snapped chris as he finally made eye contact with the girl. she had wide eyes, really big hoops and glitter on her face. her dress resembled a disco-ball.

“fine by me, more room on this… floor” chris let out a soft chuckle. can you blame him, he needed it. well to her, it sounded more like a scoff. “sorry, things are just harder to process tonight and i don’t know why” chris didn’t know why the girl was saying things that someone closer to her should hear. ‘maybe she’s drunk’ he thought, while thinking of something weird to ask so she’d go away.

“are you a disco-ball? i’m asking this to see how shit-faced you might be”

“i’m not a disco-ball, i’m a mirrorball… see that’s funny because they’re the same goddamn thing. and, this isn’t a fucking halloween party. and no, i’m not drunk, i’m pissed”

“oooh mirrorball’s got some lip on her huh?” shock wasn’t the word chris could use anymore. more like glad. glad that he wasn’t the only one pissed, again, in a borderline psychotic way. nick had tara to dance with, matt had sam to catch pokémon with. maybe chris could just talk to this girl. it wasn’t completely unrealistic, right?

he walked towards where she was sitting. getting comfortable on hardwood floor was no joke but once he saw her gratefully smile at him for a change, it was weirdly comfortable. she began talking yet again. “any good shows you’ve been watching?” wasn’t the question chris thought he’d be asked. maybe his name or something, but decided to roll with it. “nah, more of a music guy. matt’s the crazy binge-watcher”

“excuse me, more like matt’s the fun one. and yes, i took that personally cause i love shows” the girl was fully ready to defend her slightly insane ways to finish a series. “okay, well i love breaking bad, what about you?”

the girl shook her head “sadly, breaking bad is currently rotting on my watchlist but hey, you’re motivation to finally start it” chris was still hoping for something in common between them. not in a romantic way, of course but it did make talking to a complete stranger easier.

“so what about music?” the girl’s eyes lit up when she said taylor swift. chris was quick to speak. “okay but i don’t get why she’s so popular music wise? she’s cool don’t get me wrong, but-”

“because… she makes us feel seen dude” the girl continued. “the fact that someone as awesome as her can go through some of the same shit as me, makes me feel validated… seen. but then again, i won’t try to make you like something if you just don’t wanna. i do fuck with r&b and rap though if that’s what you listen to”

hoping this is the overlap between them chris asks “you heard of lil skies?” “i have, but i’m a local. more on the chill rap scene”

“so you like drake don’t you?” “say what you want but the guy’s got some hidden gems and his old stuff’s pretty awesome” chris couldn’t agree more. “totally get it, matt and i used to always jam out to the motto and she will-” “is matt your brother?” chris is in disbelief. egotistic disbelief but still. he widens his bright blue eyes. “oh my god, you have no idea who i am don’t you?”

the girl shakes her head “i mean i don’t know which one you are? are you one of those who refers to themselves in third person?” “please say something other than that. you’re making me feel like an idiotic species with that sentence. see now that’s funny cause that’s pretty weird of you-”

“i got it, thanks” the two couldn’t help but laugh. chris was feeling light and it was all thanks to this ‘mirrorball’ he found. he thought he could ask why she was previously pissed, hoping she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“oh i saw my drunk ex downstairs. he said some really weird shit and i got super mad at him and almost punched that bitch in the face” chris let out a wheeze which was promptly stopped by the girl’s pissed face. he couldn’t relate to her, yet he tried to understand. “how did it end?”

“whoa. you just made a taylor swift reference! you’re learning. see that’s funny cause-” “not funny dude. and you’re dodging the question so i’m sorry i asked” chris knew he overstepped the pretty thick boundary with someone he met only twenty minutes ago. after a long sigh, the girl began her explanation. “i just lost feelings. and it sucks cause i didn’t wanna string him along. downstairs he made me feel like i was a monster”

chris completely respected her decision. “you aren’t. you’re already better than people who choose to cheat. how long was it?” he thought people like that are very rare to come by. “barely two months? i don’t really remember but thanks for saying that whole thing” the girl smiled and felt understood. she added. “i tried, but my commitment issues kinda got in the way” chris knew all about that. he really did. even though he was curious, he wasn’t sure if he should go any further. something between the two had changed. one could hear a spark of lighting a firework in the silence, that kinda silence. not the awkward kind at all. peaceful and understood, yet troubled by the past.

both were left thinking about what could’ve been if they didn’t just push people away. maybe chris would’ve had a girlfriend, or an ex by now. maybe she would’ve still been in that relationship. unfortunately, the need to be free and invulnerable overpowered the two’s want of romantic love.

the girl was first to break the silence. “i love how i just said that to you, yet i don’t even know your name”

“the name’s chris” she hummed “name matches the looks”

chris had an involuntary red tint spread across his face while he widened his eyes. “did you just say i literally look like a chris?” “yeah basically” said the girl as if he asked her the dumbest question of the week. maybe of the month. chris agreed and continued, “hmm yeah, we did just trauma bond, yet we met barely an hour ago”

the girl was taken aback. “excuse me, trauma bond where? you still haven’t told me why you’re sad.” chris thought the hard part of finding someone was over. maybe just saying this to a complete stranger was harder. ‘fuck it’ he thought.

“look, i can’t even begin to think why cause every time i do, i ignore it cause i just don’t wanna get into it, and it all just builds up-” chris stopped himself but the girl nodded, showing that it’s okay and safe for him to go on.

“i know i should be happy. i’m young, healthy, well-off… but i feel so lonely, now more than ever. i blame my brothers for finally finding fame and LA actually okay and i know i’m such an asshole for saying that. y’know every single time some fan asks, ‘oh who’s least likely to live without his brothers or who’s least likely to be in a relationship’ they always instantly say it’s me. and i get it. i’ve built an image like that and yes it’s partially my fault but it still hurts. it’s like… people just expect me to be attached at the fucking hip to my brothers, and scared of women. i’m still definitely not ready for a relationship, but when someone says something like that again and again, it fucking pisses me off even more. in a way, it just stops me from pursuing anything cause everyone just always has something to say, and i just can’t help focusing on the bad shit. now i’m here, troubling you. someone i’ve known for two fucking seconds with my shit. i just really fucking hate it”

the girl took in all of his words and hurt and inhaled sharply before she spoke. “it’s okay to feel that way. the whole thing about you just blurting this out is valid. sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one because they don’t know anything about you. and i’m weirdly proud that you said all that. it takes real guts”

chris felt the way he thought the girl feels when listening to taylor swift. seen. the girl continued. “and at the end of the day, you’re not gonna fucking end up cranky, sad and alone. as long as you have hope, faith and most importantly, love. not only for others, but really for yourself. if you feel hurt, you’ll hurt others and push them away. so it’s best to take care of yourself first, try to find a way you can open up to people closest to you. then you can definitely find whatever it is you’re looking for” chris didn’t take her words lightly and knew they were gonna be stuck in his head, regardless of his shitty memory.

he resumed the quip-off, feeling much better after letting all that out, and not being blindly judged for it. “so, we’re even now right?” the girl just knowingly smiled and chris couldn’t put a finger on why he just really liked a smile on her face. “y’know, i got all that from a taylor swift song”

“no fucking way. taylor’s songs give you wisdom?” the girl nodded but was quick to add. “more than wisdom, it’s clarity. and advice. honestly, she’s like the older sister i never had” chris wondered which song and as if the girl read his goddamn mind she answered, “well, it’s actually a combination of three songs. one’s the archer by taylor swift, the other’s escape from la by the weeknd-”

“did not think you fuck with him as well. they’re so different from each other” chris says while the girl just blinks. chris immediately apologises. “sorry, i have a habit of interrupting my brothers. my brain’s just really fucking weird and fast”

letting out a chuckle she says, “nah its all good chris. i can personally relate to that” to ensure he didn’t commit a fucking crime. chris lets out a sigh of relief while pulling out his phone, opening apple music in the process. “what’s the third song?”

as if right on cue, the five percent battery warning invades his screen. “ah fuck, phone’s almost dead” his panic continues. “i hate to say this but i have to go. otherwise my brothers will think i left already and my phone will be dead by the time i can call-” “it’s okay chris, go. i’m not mad at all”

chris hurriedly tries to find an outlet on the rooftop but there aren’t any. even the other two people who were previously there are gone, leaving their trace behind with the sweet smell of bubblegum. the girl’s eyes kept following chris, who was spastically still searching for a goddamn power bank or something. anything. “i’m pretty sure there’s no chargers here”

he turned his head towards her so quick, whiplash never felt more real. “okay then tell me your number, your name. anything” he was so out of breath from running around like a hooligan. yet, chris was determined to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating that entire conversation. the girl smiled yet again. ‘that damn smile’ he thought. “i hope you’re coming to jake’s party next weekend. i’ll be there”

chris really liked that answer. of course he did. he liked the chase and was finally excited to come to the next party. his phone started buzzing, messages from the triplet’s group chat appeared on his lock screen asking chris’ whereabouts. they were dying to leave but he wasn’t. he bid his ‘mirrorball’ goodbye and started to run down the stairs. just before chris could go he asked. actually… screamed.

“what was the third song!”

the girl turned around and screamed back the third songs name.

she blushed and looked away while chris’ signature grin took over his features. he saw the rooftop one last time. the battery on the phone was low but his spirits were high. he somehow managed to take a really shitty picture of that very ‘shiny’ rooftop.

the downstairs scene still felt like a thick and claustrophobic fog of pretend, but chris knew that if he really wanted to, he could find something real and grounded.

in their car, the triplets like after every ‘stupid fucking party’, talked about their individual experiences. nick as always began. “tara really needs to invite better people cause what the fuck. why’d they all look so judgy when i told them my favourite genre’s pop? after that whenever i tried to talk to them they’d just ignore me, like a bunch of goddamn high status judgmental uglies. like hello?! the music was loud but you’re not fucking deaf!”

“nick, i thought at least you were having a nice time. sam and colby had to leave five minutes after chris asked me to leave. honestly can’t believe i’m saying this but i should’ve listened to the kid. after that, i locked myself in one of the bathrooms and fucking played cheese escape. that’s right.. CHEESE ESCAPE. chris, where the fuck were you?”

before nick could answer, he saw the slight red tint on chris’ face as a cheeky grin was plastered his face. “oh my god, did you fucking hook up with someone?” the shock value was a bit too high for both matt and chris. the car slightly wobbled on the road. “no you fucking idiot i didn’t. i just went to the rooftop after tara told me it’s quiet up there and just scrolled on my phone. that’s why my phone was dead”

“well since you could’ve called me, i say bullshit. but it’s fine. i won’t ask further” said matt as he partially believed his story. nick was weirdly proud that chris finally talked to someone he didn’t know at a party, all by himself.

after a short thirty seconds of quiet, chris started blabbering about playing a song before he forgot the name. “oh my god, stop saying the fucking name of the song and just play it you brain-dead moron” scolded nick cause kid was morphing into a monkey while matt was on a highway.

chris finally opened apple music on his currently charging phone. he started playing a song called, ‘no. 1 party anthem’.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 24. Would It Matter?

Summary: Dahlia is letting off the last of her pent up anger over Dain, when an unexpected person and interaction occurs. A/N: I know this is only like a day late, but I got caught up in the fun of last week of work for the year, and Christmas parties. But here is the next part of Dahlia. And now I'm on some time off I will try and get through some of the requests that have been coming in (I've been so bad with those, I'm so sorry!).

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

The rhythmic thud of my punches hitting the bag echo around the room as I unleash the last of anger on the punching bag. A bag that I hate to admit has nearly whacked me in the face one too many times due to how hard I’ve been hitting it. My challenge with Dain had done little to simmer my anger despite how good it had felt to win. To show they no longer held power over me. So here I was, back to a habit I hadn’t partaken in since being here.

”Stupid…. Dain,” I mutter between punches. “Stupid.. family name… Stupid… Expectations!” The right hook I lands causes the bag to swing violently, whipping back towards me.

I raise my hands, bracing for the impact that never comes. I pause, my chest heaving as I open my eyes, a large hand reaching over me, stopping the bag millimetres from my face.

”That poor bag must have really pissed you off,” a voice whispers behind me, causing me to shiver as their breath caresses my neck in an oddly intimate way. Their voice smooth with a hint of humour.

Why did my body react like this to him. I hated it.

”Do you really hate it?” Proth teases in my head.

”You keep those thoughts to yourself.” I grumble back.

”Then keep the ones about him to yourself.”

Damn, meddling dragon.

I turn around, my back resting against the punching bag as I look up at his hazel eyes, dark curls falling in front of them as he smirks down at me.

”It does when I picture certain peoples faces on it. Might imagine yours next.” I remark before ducking under his arm and heading for the bottle of water I’d placed nearby. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

”I wouldn’t call it sneaking,” he says with a shrug as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’re just intense. I could hear you pummelling that bag from outside. Not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

I roll my eyes at him before raising the bottle to my lips, the cool liquid helping to simmer my fiery temper before dropping it back to the ground. I push past Garrick and settle back into a fighting stance as I unleash a flurry of quick jabs. I feel his eyes watching me, and I hate how I falter under his gaze.

”I take it your challenge against Dain did nothing to help your mood?” He muses as he leans up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

I stop mid swing, turning to glare at him. “Trust me, if you knew even half the history between him and I, you’d understand.”

”Then make me understand.” He says casually, as if it was so easy to let him in.

I shake my head, before turning back to the punching bag. “Even if you were the last person alive, I wouldn’t let you in on my deepest darkest secrets Tavis.”

”Is it to do with what Dain hinted about the other day?”

Anger flairs within me at his words, putting more force behind my punch than I intend as a loud thud that almost sounds like a crack echoes in the room. I knew he had heard, but part of my deep down had hoped he didn’t. Had hoped him and Bodhi had walked in that little bit too late to hear that part of the conversation.

”It’s nothing. He’s just trying to get in your head. Place doubt. They’re good at that.” I snarl out, Garrick furrowing his brow at my words.

”I hate to say this, but I call bullshit. What I saw on the mat today, and the way you’re beating up the poor punching bag… That was all fuelled by anger and pent up emotions. It’s personal.”

Why was he so god damn observant when it came to me all of a sudden? Clearly I wasn’t as subtle as I thought. Or maybe Garrick was more focused on me than I thought.

”I didn’t come here for a therapy session Tavis. So you either stand there, be quiet and let me train. Or you leave.” I warn as I fiddle with the wraps on my hands.

I look up as Garrick slowly steps towards me. “How about another option? One that might stop you from injuring yourself? Your form is all over the place.”

I roll my eyes. “Fully aware of that one.” I tell him as I secure my wraps in place and turn to start up again.

I rock back on my heel to settle into a fighting stance, but large hands lightly grasp my hips and shift my weight. I go to recoil and step away, but his hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place.

”You keep that stance up you’re going to be limping around the Quadrant tomorrow.” He states firmly from behind me as he loosens his grip on me. “And relax your shoulders, you’re tense all up here.”

I turn my head to see him gesture to my shoulders, just enough distance between us so his fingers don’t skim the exposed skin. Happy I’ve taken note of his advice, he takes a step back as he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for me to resume.

I hated to admit it, but he was right. I was tense, my stance was completely off and I was already starting to feel it. But was I going to tell him that? Gods no. Though knocking the smug look off his face with a well placed hit was tempting.

”Anything else?” I ask as I drop my shoulders and settle into the stance he’d corrected me on.

”Stop fighting the bag, flow with it instead and maybe it won’t hit you in the face.” He says smugly, knowing that if I turned to look at him he’d be smirking at me.

”Flow? Look at you sounding like an expert.” I mock.

Garrick chuckles from behind me. “Maybe, but it works. Trust me.”

I turn my head, just enough to catch his gaze. His hazel eyes steady, but something else was there. As if he was meaning something else by his words. Not wanting to delve to deep into it, I turn my attention back to the punching bag, doing my best to ignore the feeling of his eyes on my back.

Taking a deep breath, I unleash a sequence of light jabs on the punching bag. And as Garrick put it, going with the flow of the bag. Which I knew would work. Working with the motion of the bag was better than fighting against it and trying to make the bag work for you instead.

”Better?” Garrick questions, his voice low and approving as moves to stand just off to the side of me as I step back from the bag.

”You might have been right.” I admit reluctantly as I start to undo my hand wraps. “But don’t let it go to your head.” I add as I point a finger at him.

Garrick grins, hands dropping to his side as he uncrosses his arms. “Too late.”

I roll my eyes, trying to hide the smile that wants to break free. “You’re impossible.”

”And you’re relentless.” He shoots back at me as his eyes linger on me. “You feel better now?”

I shrug as I undo the last of my hands wraps, scrunching them up in my hands. “As best as I can all things considered. But I no longer feel like I want to murder someone, so we’ll go with I feel better.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at me as I push past him, shoving my hand wraps and water bottle into my pack.

”I might have a way for you to get rid of the last of that pent up anger?” He jokes from behind me.

I roll my eyes as I shoulder my pack and turn to face him, Garrick far closer than he was before as I look up at him, that damn half smile on his face. I hated how my breath catches in my throat at the way he’s looking at me.

”I might have made myself a far bigger disappointment to my family today, but I still have some standards I want to uphold. Don’t want to end up at the healers because I’ve caught something that's gone around your stable.” I say smugly, smiling up at him before patting him on the chest and walking past him.

”What if I had no one else in my stable?” He calls out to me as I start to push the door open, the joking tone to his voice no longer there.

I turn to see him looking at me, but I’m too far away to see the way he’s looking at me properly. And I’m glad he’s too far away to see me freeze momentarily. I couldn’t deny I found Garrick attractive, just like every other girl in the Quadrant. And there was a part of me that was tempted to go there. But there was no way he would change his ways just for me. And there was another part of me that wasn’t sure if he was just using me or wanting it just to throw it in my face.

”And what if you didn’t?” I call out, tilting my head slightly as I look at him. “Would it even matter?

A few moments pass, Garrick now answering straight away. But from here I can just make out his trademark smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

”It might,” he calls out finally, his tone unreadable, his question now hangs heavier than it did before.

I feel the prickle of heat crawling up the back of my neck. Why were his words affecting me so much? Yes we’d agreed to try be friends after he’d found me after challenges. But I barely knew him. I didn’t trust him. I shouldn’t be having these feelings of wanting to see how far he would go for me. Because I knew it wouldn’t be very far. I was probably one of the few girls here who said no to him. I was just a fleeting fancy for him. Right?

I grip the door handle tightly as I turn away from him. “Whatever game you’re playing Garrick, I’m not your pawn.” I call out, my voice firm and stern. But I have no idea if he find’s it convincing, and I was not turning around to find out. “Once you figure out if it would matter, then maybe we’ll talk.”

I don’t wait for his reply. Pushing the door open more aggressively than I planned, the door slamming closed behind me, cutting off any reply Garrick was about to give me. As I walk away, I try to ignore the small part of me that wishes I’d stayed to hear his answer.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01

[inawickedlittletown]

All I Want For Christmas Is You (BuckTommy) - 4/7

Summary: When Buck and Tommy pick each other for the 118's Secret Santa, they both realize they know nothing about each other. That changes very quickly. Words: 2.8k Rating: M Read on Ao3 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

-

Chapter Four

The next two shifts were mostly normal. Maybe he talked to Evan a little more and didn’t shy away from joining a conversation that included Evan. Maybe their eyes caught a few times and Tommy was tempted to just throw caution to the wind and drag Evan into an empty space and kiss him just because. Maybe, he’d started to get excited about the possibilities that existed if he and Evan really gave it a go between them. Tommy didn’t really think anyone noticed. 

“You’re cheerier than usual,” Howie said to him while they decorated the tree.

“I guess I’m in the holiday spirit,” Tommy said and added a few more ornaments to the tree.

“That is not like you,” Howie said. “Did you meet someone or something? You’re even being nicer to Buck.” 

“I’ve never been mean to Buck.” 

“You skirt a fine line,” Hen observed. “A very fine line and lately that’s changed a bit. It’s not a bad thing.” 

Hen was setting up the table where they would start to collect the donated gifts in a few hours. She fixed the tablecloth so it lay straighter.  

“I guess I just realized he isn’t that bad,” Tommy said. 

He spotted Evan bringing a pile of wrapped cardboard boxes to throw under the tree and he had found a Santa hat to perch atop his head. He looked adorable. Tommy maybe lost a step because he was watching him a bit too closely. 

“What?” Evan asked. “Do I have something on my face?” 

Chim took a few of the boxes. “Just your head.” 

“Very festive,” Tommy added. 

Was it bad that Tommy pictured him in nothing but the hat spread out on his bed? Probably. Hen caught his eye, raised a brow and Tommy had to look away quickly. If Evan, who literally said everything that came to mind hadn’t told them he wasn’t straight, it wasn’t Tommy’s place. 

Between Chim and Evan, they had the fake presents arranged. Tommy added the last of the ornaments and that was probably as well as they were going to do.

“Looking good,” Bobby said. “I’m sure we’ll bring in lots of toys for the kids.”  

A few hours later when people started arriving to drop off toys, Tommy got busy with sorting everything into the boxes that the Toys for Tots people would pick up in a few days. It was all going well for a while until he saw when Evan checked out a woman that walked up to him, saw the way he smiled at her and how she spent more time than necessary talking to Buck. 

“At least, it’s doubtful he’ll steal the ladder truck again,” Howie said. “And…she’s leaving her number.” 

Tommy didn’t know what the feeling growing in his gut was. Jealousy? Maybe a little, even though he really had no claim on Evan and Evan could do whatever he wanted. It just sobered him, reminded him that all they’d had was essentially a hook up and for Evan that was normal. It was what he did. 

Tommy turned away from Evan and Howie both, fixing a few more toys in the box. At the first chance he got, he snuck towards the bathroom and he allowed himself a moment. He’d let himself get not invested, but hopeful. He had to think about the reality and the reality was that Evan, no matter how nice and funny and charming, was still the guy that hooked up with women regularly and never really had relationships. There was nothing wrong with that and Tommy could have a bit of fun, but that was all that it would be. 

He heard the door open and turned in time to see Evan lean against the door, reaching behind him to click the lock. 

“Aren’t you collecting toys?” 

“Hen’s got it,” Evan said and then strode towards Tommy, taking grasp of his chin and kissing him. 

Tommy could do nothing but respond, kissing him back and gasping when Evan pressed him into the wall behind him, keeping their lips locked. 

“Shouldn’t do this at work,” Tommy managed to get out in between kisses that he did not stop. 

“Been wanting to kiss you for days,” Evan said, breath hot on Tommy’s neck before his lips were there and Tommy was leaning his head back onto the wall. “Can’t stop thinking about you.” 

Tommy was hard in his pants. It wasn’t difficult, not when a man as hot as Evan was kissing him and rubbing up against him. He could feel Evan was hard too and they rutted into each other and he shouldn’t have been surprised when Evan reached down to open his pants.

“Ev…Evan, we’re at work.” 

“So what,” Evan said and his hand grasped Tommy gently and then a little tighter. 

If they were going to do this, then Tommy needed it to be quick. Hen and Chim would notice they were gone. Evan’s hand felt amazing, and Evan kept kissing his neck and his jaw and when Tommy had to stifle a moan his lips were there to catch it. Tommy came and Evan somehow had a napkin ready to go so none of it got on either of their clothes. Evan threw it in the direction of the trash and it missed, but he didn’t seem to care, instead he was content to just stay close to Tommy and happy when Tommy pulled him into another kiss and when Tommy’s hand went to Evan’s pants. 

The belt was already undone and it wasn’t hard to open his pants and then there was Evan’s cock a little red and leaking. Tommy wanted to taste him. From the looks of it, Evan wouldn’t last. 

Tommy kissed Evan once more and then he dropped down to his knees. The tile was hard and cold on his knees but none of that mattered. Evan looked shocked, but his hand touched Tommy’s jaw and then hair and Tommy put his mouth on him. 

The weight of Evan’s cock on his tongue was everything. Tommy gave it his all, licking and sucking and using his hand to fondle his balls. It didn’t take long for Evan to start squirming and for him to stifle groans into his forearm as he came. Tommy swallowed and it seemed to turn Evan boneless because he slumped forward, hand catching himself on the wall. 

Tommy tucked him back in, took care of closing his pants and doing his belt. 

“Tommy that was—” 

“Yeah,” Tommy said, but he was conscious of how long they had already been gone. 

They washed their hands and then shared one last kiss that Evan groaned into and that left Tommy smirking because Evan was tasting himself. 

“Take a few minutes,” Tommy said. 

“Uh. Sure.” 

Then, Tommy left him there. 

A bunch more toys had been added to the pile. Karen had shown up with Denny with a small pile of her own and Denny was admiring the Christmas tree. Tommy had met him enough times to know he was a quiet kid. A good kid. He smiled and waved at Tommy. Tommy waved back. 

“Hey, Tommy,” Karen said. “How did it go the other night getting Buck back to his place?” 

“Oh. He stayed at mine. I have a pull out. He didn’t seem to want to go home.” 

“Oh,” Karen said. 

Did Tommy see Hen and Karen share a look between them. 

“It’s those roommates,” Hen threw in. “He really needs to start looking for his own place. It’s practically a frat house over there, Buck is probably the most responsible of them all which is saying something.”

“That bad, huh,” Tommy said. 

A couple walked up then, holding a couple of Barbies. Tommy moved to thank them and receive the boxes. He’d just placed them on the pile when he saw Evan return. He looked a little flushed still, but happy. Tommy almost couldn’t look away. 

-

There was just something about Tommy. It was hard to not look at him, or want to touch him, or want to talk to him. So much so that when he realized Tommy had disappeared into the bathroom, Buck gave it a couple of minutes before making an excuse to also disappear. 

Afterwards, he felt a little more settled, except that Tommy still looked like that and Buck had to fight with himself to not just make some excuse that got them both out of work. Buck felt like back when he had sex for the first time when he was a teenager and how with that door open he just wanted to have sex all the time. It was all he thought about and all that he wanted. It was the same with Tommy. 

Maybe he hadn’t been wrong about thinking that he did have a sex addiction, except that it was more like an addiction to Tommy and neither of them had even penetrated the other yet. Though thinking about Tommy’s mouth, the way his lips looked while he took Buck in…well, that would be sitting right in his mind the next time he was on his own and needing to take matters into his own hands.  

He and Tommy didn’t spend any more alone time for the rest of the shift and the only acknowledgement of their as of yet undetermined plans, was Tommy touching his shoulder as he headed out. 

“See you tomorrow, Evan. I’ll text you.” 

Tommy did text him the next morning and while Buck waited for the Mr. Coffee to brew his coffee, they texted back and forth and settled on meeting up for lunch. That gave Buck plenty of time to freak out about what to wear and what it meant for him and Tommy to go out like this. On a date. He was going on a date with a dude. 

A few hours later and he was still wrapping his mind around it. 

“Hey, Evan, you alright there?” Connor asked and Buck had forgotten he’d left his door open. 

“I have a date,” Buck said and managed to swallow ‘with a dude’ before he could add that on. 

“Oh, really,” Connor said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Connor was the reason Buck was in LA and Buck had never thought about it much, especially not when he’d been so excited to find a new adventure after being in Peru and getting bored of it. Buck remembered how much he’d liked talking to him when he was serving drinks and how his eyes had caught his smile and liked when he was responsible for it. 

“Meet this one on the job?” Connor asked. 

“Huh. Yeah, actually,” Buck said. “I did.”

“Well, I was going to invite you out to the bar tonight, but since you have a date I’m sure you’ll be busy.” 

Buck rolled his eyes. He heard Connor start to leave and something compelled him to stop him because he couldn’t talk to Hen or Chim or…oh, he couldn’t imagine talking to Bobby about this. It would have been nice if he’d had Maddie around, but since he doubted the Christmas postcard he sent her would be answered — just like all the others — then Connor was probably his best bet. 

“Hey, Connor, have you ever been checking out someone’s ass and realized like five minutes too late that it belongs to a guy?” 

It was probably not the best way to go about this, but he didn’t know how else to approach it. 

Connor eyed him. “No,” he said with a laugh. “What’s going on?”

“I think. No…no, I know, but I think I’ve always checked out guys. Like, a hot ass is a hot ass, you know? And I guess I figured everyone thought that but now—”

“Now you’re realizing not everyone sees things like you,” Connor said. “I think we all get there sometime. What’s bringing this out now?” 

“My date tonight,” Buck said. “It’s uh, it’s with a guy.” 

Connor’s eyebrows went up high. “Oh. So, you’re like just jumping right in. Whole gay experience or whatever.” 

“I’m not gay,” Buck said at once. 

“Yeah, but you’re not straight either. And, it’s perfectly fine. You like this guy, so go for it.” 

He didn’t need Connor to validate him, but it was nice nonetheless to have him just shrug it all off, like who Buck dated or kissed or had sex with didn’t really matter. Connor walked to the door again, but he turned and glanced back at Buck. Offering him a smile. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t deep dived in some research spiral about this.”

“I’ve been distracted,” Buck admitted, fully aware that he was blushing. 

“Oh,” Connor said and laughed. “It’s like that.” 

“Shut up.”  

Buck went through a few outfit changes, put a bit more product in his hair, and then realized that it was time he headed out if he was planning on not being late.

“Good luck,” Connor told him as Buck approached the door. “Make good choices with your man and your gay awakening.” 

“Rude. And, Connor, I’m bisexual.” 

-

Evan had that ability to go from hot to adorable all in the space of a couple of minutes. Tommy had arrived a little early for their date, so he was outside the restaurant and got to watch as Evan walked towards him looking so effortlessly hot and then when he spotted Tommy, he broke into such a huge grin and Tommy was left trying to catch his breath. Then, Evan was there and pulling him into a hug. 

“Hi,” Evan said. “Ready to go in?” 

They walked inside and the hostess seated them right away, one of the perks of lunch instead of dinner. Neither Evan or Tommy had said it while planning, but Tommy was hoping that lunch could turn into going back to his place and that they could wind up getting dinner together too. It was perhaps a bit presumptuous, but Tommy knew Evan and Evan had said he had the whole day free. 

Tommy had shared many meals with Evan before, but usually they were surrounded by other people, with several conversations going on at once and people talking over each other. Tommy tended to be quieter, contributing only when it was truly necessary and never in a conversation with Evan. It was different to have Evan’s undivided attention, but Tommy liked it. 

“So, your art,” Evan said after they’d put in their orders. 

“What about it?” 

“What do you do with it? Do you sell it or gift it or display it anywhere? It’s very good.” 

“It’s not,” Tommy said quickly. “I enjoy doing it, but it’s just fun.” 

“But you’re so good.” 

Tommy didn’t think that was true. Not a lot of people had seen it, but Tommy could hardly compare it to real artists. 

“That’s subjective,” Tommy said. “You saw it in the middle of the night. You were probably still drunk.” 

“If you ask Bobby, I’m sure he’ll love that one of the ladder truck to hang at the firehouse.” 

It would fit in at least, but Tommy didn’t think it was anything too special. Anyone could sketch out a firetruck and then paint it red. 

“You know,” Evan said, “I always thought you were this confident cool guy, but I’m seeing a different side of you.”

Tommy didn’t know how to take that.

“Not…it’s not a bad thing. There’s so much more to you I didn’t know, is all. I like knowing that and getting to know you.”

“And what about you, Evan, are you hiding any secret hobbies?” 

Evan chuckled. “Not really. I mean, I’ve had a lot of jobs but it’s not like I still do any of those things.” 

“Jobs? Like what?” 

Apparently there were quite a few things. He was a mixologist. He’d been a lifeguard and used that as an excuse to surf all the time. He’d worked as a ranch hand. He’d done a few retail jobs. Construction. He’d travelled across the US bartending and taking any odd job and then gone through the training to become a Navy SEAL before dropping out and moving to Peru where he was a bartender right on a beach.  

“And somehow you landed a firefighter in LA,” Tommy said. 

“It stuck. It’s where I’m meant to be. I think it was what I was always searching for. Making a difference. Actually helping people.” 

Tommy couldn’t deny that he enjoyed getting to know more about Evan. He was more than just the impatient, impulsive kid that Tommy had convinced himself that Evan was. It did nothing to help Tommy find a good Christmas present, but he also was pretty sure that Evan would be happy to receive anything. 

Their lunch went by too quickly, the food disappearing from their plates, until Tommy was grabbing the bill before Evan could protest. 

“You’ll just pay next time,” Tommy said. 

It sounded presumptuous, but he saw Evan’s smile, the way it reached his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Next time.”

[admirationandromantics]

Teacher's Lounge

Another request! I'm thinking about not posting updates to anonymous requests, and instead just pasting said request in here? I'll tag you if you didn't ask anonymously. It's easier and more neat.

🍋‍🟩 Hear me out, Josh becoming a temporary teacher for film with his own office, he often let you study in there seeing as the campus didn’t have enough study space to accommodate everyone and you become quite overstimulated on a normal day (@b3rryb3t)

This is therefore maybe a teacher x student thing, but you're roughly the same age anyway (maybe 2 years difference), since he graduated before you and has already come out with his debut movie. You're still hanging out with the friend group as well.

Word count: 1,6k (Unedited)

It’s hard to find good reading spots on campus. My messy room could be an option, but I can’t get inspired there. I need different surroundings than what I’m used to. Booked rooms are a no-go, especially now that exams are coming closer. They’re always booked, and everyone uses them. I’ve tried going to the library, but if there’s room, the place is never quiet. The librarians don't care. I get it though, everyone is stressed, and the only place you can work on a group assignment is the library. You have to talk, you have to discuss. This means that I’m still left without a spot to study. I’ve tried other libraries, other cafes and even at my friends place. Nothing works. Maybe there’s something in the other buildings? Somewhere quiet where I’ll feel content. 

The first building that comes to mind is the Teachers house. A large building with some group rooms and many small study sofas. Many of the teachers have offices there, but if I'm quiet, they won’t mind. These spots are usually also taken, but maybe I’ll have a chance if I’m quick. 

I walk down the hall, stopping when I see the old abandoned office. This room is usually always empty, waiting for someone to inhabit it. But it’s not empty anymore. The previously collected dust is cleaned away, the wood door has a new furnish and a brand new slide-on plate reads a familiar name. Joshua Washington. 

I widen my eyes in surprise, it cannot be. Why is he here? Didn’t he already finish his degree? He just finished his debut movie, which was excellent. I saw him at one of Emily’s parties too, which was not long ago. About three weeks. He looked good then, very good. Like he felt fulfilled and accomplished. He should feel good about himself. Not many people do that on their first big project. He did talk about a new job he got, but I assumed it was another film-related gig. Was this the job? 

My curiosity gets the better of me, and I carefully knock three times. The sound is beautiful, hard and dark wood which doesn’t vibrate as I hit it. I wait, hearing shuffling and metal clinking inside. 

“Um, yeah, come in!” 

I open the door, holding the handle hard. If I was wrong, then this would be an awfully awkward encounter. The door glides easily without making any sound. They have really improved this place. He lifts his head, meeting my stare as he does. A smile creeps on his face, eyes lighting up by the sight. I stand still, mouth agape and furrowed brows. He’s really here. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite student” 

“You teach here?” 

“As of this Monday, yes” 

I close the door behind me, looking around the room. It’s cozy, filled with family pictures and a couple of movie posters. His diploma is also on the wall. On one surface are many small film trophies from his childhood, and in front of all of them, the price he got last year for his first debut Hollywood movie. I look around in awe, the yellow light making everything feel so professional and real. 

“And by the way, I’m not your student, I take another course” 

“That can’t stop me from stating that you’re in a superior’s office” 

“How did you get this job?”

“They offered it to me”

“Just out of nowhere? You don’t have experience in teaching. You’re not even a professor” 

“I guess my talent shines through”

I look at him and his smug face. He’s leaning back in the roller chair, feet upon his desk. Everything here is so neat, so unlike him. He also loves being able to joke like this, but honestly, I’m still surprised by the circumstances. He made one movie, and now, the university wanted him to teach a course? 

“If I know you correctly, you’ll probably be fired by the next month” 

“And why’s that?”

I take a seat in front of him, not surprised that the chair is lower than him. Oh, how he loves his power trips. The chair is comfortable, and suits the surroundings, but I feel small. 

“Because you can’t keep your hands to yourself” 

“That’s true” 

“There’s only a question about time, when will you fuck one of your students, and when will you get caught” 

He laughs, shaking his head as he fiddles with an expensive ball pen. He looks at me in disbelief, maybe a little surprised that I said exactly what I thought. 

“Who’s to say I haven’t done it already?” 

“One week into the job?” 

“Maybe” 

“You’re disgusting, Washington” 

“That’s Mr. Washington to you” he corrects, pointing at me with the same pen. I smile at him, almost unable to hide my laughter. 

“I’m not gonna start calling you that” 

“Ugh, damn you” 

A slight silence follows, and analyse his desk. Many, many pens, his laptop, a stack of papers and a couple of memory sticks. Again, everything is so neat. It makes me feel weird. 

“By the way, I actually haven’t had a teacher-student relationship” 

“You shouldn’t” I quickly shoot back. It would not be a good idea. Being in the filming industry is hard in itself, but he also has a shot of doing something more. This was not something to take lightly. 

“At least not gonna with my own students” 

“Jesus Chris Josh”

He laughs again, loving my overdramatic reactions. He knows what gets me to tip over, how to make me irritated and upset. Of course he’ll use it to his advantage. 

“Anyways, what are you doing here? Isn’t your building on the other side of campus?” 

I sigh loudly, leaning back in the chair and letting my head fall back. I’m tired, exhausted even. But just two more weeks, and I’ll be finished with the exams. My diploma isn’t far away. 

“Trying to find a study spot, but everywhere is taken”

“Why don’t you just use your dorm?”

“Easy for you to say, you never lived in one”

He leans back, furrowing his brows and being deep in thought. 

“You could sit here?” 

I look up, surprised by the offer. Is that even okay, am I, as a student, allowed to do that? I think about it, the place is quiet, cozy and a completely different atmosphere than usual. It could work. 

“Can I?” 

“Of course, it wouldn't be the first time you’ve been in my quarters” he teases, leaning back over the desk. 

“Haha, very funny, but are you serious?” 

“Yeah, I mean, my students usually don’t come here, too busy actually understanding the material, compared to some” he points at me and my backpack. I roll my eyes. 

“Well, if getting my degree consisted of knowing the on and off button of a camera, I would excel at it”

“Careful, or you might not get to study here” 

“Okay, okay, sorry. You’re an accomplished producer and teacher who’s totally awesome” 

“And you have to call me Mr. Washington”

I scoff at his request, shaking my head. He’s still smiling, biting casually into his lower lip. 

“I draw the line there”

��Fine”

I take up my laptop, immediately starting to type. This was gonna be great. Might have some negative effects though. We’ve got a history. Too much time spent together has usually led to more uncivilised activities, but that’s not something I have to worry about now. 

***

The weeks pass, and I truly enjoy his company, even if it’s in silence. He’s busy grading papers and making schedules. I’m prepping for my exams, writing, reading, and memorising. Everything was going great, and the day of the exam finally came. 

I took one look over the questions, and my heart fell. What the hell was this? I did my best, drawing out a mind map to help me refresh my memory. It actually went quite well, if I do say so myself. Not the best, but I’m definitely not failing. 

I walk down the hall yet again, not bothering to knock on Josh’s door. His head rises, noticing my presence, and he smiles. God I love how he smiles. 

“So, how did it go?” 

I close the door, biting my lip as I turn to face him again. He looks up expectantly, eyes big and round. He rises, walking around the desk to face me. 

“It went great!” I blurt out excitedly, arms going out. He smiles, meeting me in a hug as I throw my arms around him. His hands go to my waist, pulling me closer against him. I bury my face in his neck, warm skin against mine, smelling his expensive cologne. 

“See, you just needed a place to study”

“I indeed did”

We break apart a little, arms still holding tight so none of us leaves. He leans in, eyes lowering to my lips. I know what’s about to happen, it has happened a million times before. In his bedroom, a couple of random bathrooms, the mountain lodge, but never in an office. My finger finds its way to his lips, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Mr. Washington, what do you think you’re doing?” 

“Just celebrating” he whispers against my finger, hand going up to take it away. He finds his way to the back of my head, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. 

“You can get in trouble”

“Never stopped us before”

His breath feels hot against my skin, head getting dizzy and body warmer. How long were we going to keep this thing alive? 

“Fuck it” I whisper against him, capturing his lips on mine.

[coolingrosa]

I entirely agree with your points about dream XD although i believe they were six instead of eight…

Also not liking Neil is valid, but keep in mind, Neil only knows as much as dream tells him, since he’s practically banished from their village

and like you said, dream doesn’t comprehend or even know about most of their abuse. even if he did he’s unlikely to tell neil, since dreams whole reason for going into the woods was to hide his pain and crying

neil had yet to meet nightmare, and had no idea what dream was actually going through, i’m not sure why this makes him a horrible person? the people in that village caused him to lose his home, a limb, and killed his wife and young son, i don’t think he had any way of knowing before its to late…

i see people finding him uninteresting and i understand but im not really seeing how he’s a horrible person for not knowing what’s going on behind the scenes💔 he’s a heartbroken man who’s isolated and only connection is..this child 💔for all we know, he probably assumed dream had a caretaker, he may have even thought “nightmare” was dreams caretaker. whatever the case i don’t think it’s fair to label him this way, but i am always interested in your interpretations and i’d love to hear your thoughts on it /gen💚💚💚

I’m not saying he’s a horrible person- but as an adult, there were signs of abuse Dream definitely displayed and failed to notice. Children aren’t good at putting up a front. Hell- I’m sure Dream had to mention Nightmare’s constant injuries out of concern. If he didn’t, it would imply Dream didn’t put much mind to them, which could be true as he’s a kid, but I don’t think that’s very in character for who Dream is- especially since he blames himself for never doing anything. That blame does make it seem implied Dream knew something wasn’t right but didn’t have the words or the comprehension to wrap his head around it (or skull lol)

I know Neil’s past and isolation- but you’d think that would make him even more suspicious with how Dream talked about how much pressure he had on him, or how Nightmare never shows himself but always seems to be injured in Dream’s stories. Nightmare was abused BADLY. I do remember this having to be said due to fans saying it was just bullying, but adults would also partake in beating him. There would be many signs of Nightmare not able to play as much because he’s hurting- further isolating himself that would leave Dream likely frustrated and wanting to rant about how Nightmare “hates him” and oh so “loathes him” b.c he won’t play anymore. Neil, as an adult, should hear that and be suspicious. But he doesn’t do anything or look further into it.

He knows the villagers and how horrible they are, would likely hear from Dream slip-ups that make the picture more clear, but never nudged to meet Nightmare himself. He focused only on Dream rather than being curious about the other sibling. I also don’t think it’s in character for Dream to never talk about Nightmare and say who he is. Nightmare was his brother and the light of his life. His death haunts him so badly that he’s in pain for centuries after and constantly misses that little boy. The balance ties them together- and Dream wouldn’t miss a beat to talk about him. Especially since he’s so young, he’s bound to over share as soon as he feels safe.

Neil isn’t an abuser or on the same standing as the villagers. But there was indeed some neglect done there, no matter how you look at it. He isn’t THE CAUSE of the apple incident or Nightmare’s abuse, but he is a passive force that looked the other way instead of stepping in, leaving the boys alone even more. Just like Nim did.

So, no, I’m not saying he’s a horrible person. But he’s not a good father figure if he only focused on Dream and neglected looking into the obvious signs of abuse towards Nightmare that Dream missed. I don’t think Dream would want to be around someone who did that, or he wouldn’t feel as comfortable anymore. Dream isn’t a single package. He had a brother with him. I don’t see him ever fully trusting Neil again for not stepping in as the adult in the picture in favor of Dream, bc that’s exactly what the villagers had been doing to Nightmare leading up to his death.

He’s not a horrible person and can be sympathetic, but he sat by and did nothing in the face of abuse. That’s why I don’t like him. I get why others do, but I can’t. If he was written better with more concern towards both twins, then perhaps I would.

[sequinsmile-x]

Develop

She can’t but smile as she steps back, her eyes fixed on them and the tree lighting them up from behind. Matching smiles on their faces and obvious happiness despite everything they’d survived. She feels a familar pull towards her purse, her camera all but calling out to her, and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

“Wait there one second,” she says, digging through her purse where she’d dumped it on the couch, “I’ve got to get a picture of this.”

AKA - Five times Emily takes a picture of Aaron and Jack, and one time she's in it.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is for the lovely @astridncs, who loves all things Hotchniss, as well as Emily and Jack. I hope you enjoy this, and that it fits what you wanted from your prompt <3

This…got sadder at the start than I intended. But what's new?!

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 7.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Emily had always loved taking photos. 

For her 14th birthday, her parents bought her a Nikon FA. She knew it was mostly her father’s doing, that he paid more attention to her interests than her mother did, and she loved it. She took photos at every given opportunity, forced the few friends to pose for pictures because it was something tangible she’d remember them by when she inevitably had to move and start all over again. She did the same with her parents - would make them stand together so she could capture one moment in time, so she could look at it again when her films were developed, her fingers tracing over her parent's smiles as she pretended that was what their life was like all the time. 

Her father’s death just before her 15th birthday only cemented her love of photography. After his funeral, when she’d spent the day standing next to her mother and accepted sympathy from people she’d never met, she’d sat on her bed and looked at pictures of him. She held them so tightly she’d creased them, desperate to hold on to what she had left of her father. 

She was determined after that to take photos of everything. The following summer, John and Matthew both teased her whenever she pulled her camera out, all three of them unaware of what lay ahead for them as they posed together in Rome, all skipping school for a day as they explored the city she would one day look back on and not be able to think of its beauty, only the pain it had caused her. 

She always made sure she had her camera with her when she went anywhere that wasn’t work. She’d upgraded several times over the years, always keen to make sure she had the best camera she possibly could so she could capture all of the important moments. The weight of it and all it represented is heavy in her purse as she waits outside of Aaron’s apartment, a gift bag stuffed full of toys and games for Jack in her other hand. She knew her boss turned friend would say she’d bought Jack too much, his smile and kind and sad as he insisted she only had to get him one thing, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. 

It was his first Christmas without his mother after all. She knew Aaron was struggling, that he was doing his best to make a good Christmas for his son, but Haley’s death was still fresh. A date they’d never forget nestled in amongst his and Jack’s birthdays and the holidays. She hated it for them, hated that they’d always have sadness and loss in the corners of everything they did, so she was trying to help where she could. Last weekend she’d gone tree shopping with them, her hand tight around Jack’s as they chose the perfect one, Aaron just behind them as he watched them closely. She’d left them to decorate it themselves, had smiled and shook her head when Aaron asked if she wanted to stay to help, even though she did, because she knew it was important they figured out some traditions on their own. 

She fixes a smile on her face when the door opens, and she feels a familiar ache in her heart when Aaron’s eyes meet hers, a sadness that seems to chase him everywhere these days written across his face before he can hide it from her. Somewhere along the way, she’d started to think of him as one of her closest friends, if not her closest one. If she was honest with herself, she knew it ran deeper than that, that her feelings for him edged a little too close to love. It was easy to ignore when he was like this, and she could convince herself that her desire to look after him and his little boy came just from friendship - not the love that rolled through her gut whenever she looked at them both. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling softly as she lifts the gift bag to show him, “I thought I’d bring over Jack’s Christmas gifts before it was too late.” 

His eyes go wide when he looks at the bag and he steps back, “You didn’t have to get him so much.” 

She chuckles as she walks past him into his apartment, “There’s a couple of things in here for you too if that makes you feel better.” 

He shakes his head at her, “Well, we’d better get them under the tree,” he says, “He’s just getting ready for bed - prepare yourself to be talked into reading him a story when he realises you’re here.” 

“You know I love that.” She smiles and nods, and her smile gets wider when she looks at the tree.  Jack’s involvement in the decorating was obvious - the ornaments were unevenly spaced out, most of them gathered in one place at about eye level for the four-year-old. Emily was used to perfectly decorated trees. Her mother would always have professional decorators and she wasn’t allowed to help even when she was small and desperate to. She loved that Aaron hadn’t rearranged anything, that he’d left it just as Jack had done it, his love for his son as bright and warm as the lights he’d wrapped around the tree.

Aaron clears his throat, “I know it’s not perfect-”

“No,” she says, turning to smile at him as she starts to place her gifts for them under the tree, “It is perfect.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, his smile real and soft, and not for the first time she finds herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he may feel the same way about her as she feels about him. The moment is fleeting, torn open by Jack running down the hallway, almost slipping on the hardwood in his Christmas footie pjyamas.

“Emmy!” She stands up straight and opens her arms to him, smiling as he runs at her, his arms tight around her neck as she lifts him and rests him on her hip. 

“Hi kiddo,” she says, stamping a kiss against his cheek, doing it again when he giggles, “I was just telling your Dad about how much I love your tree.” 

“It’s pretty!” He exclaims, “Just like you.” 

She isn’t sure why she blushes, why the casual compliment from the little boy in her arms has warmth spreading through her as she kisses his kiss cheek again, “Thanks, Jack.”

“It’s true,” he says, furrowing his brows, “Daddy said so too-”

“Okay, buddy,” Aaron says, scooping Jack into his arms, his eyes wide and his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink as he cuts his son off, “Emily said she’d love to read you a story before you go to bed.” 

She can’t but smile as she steps back, her eyes fixed on them and the tree lighting them up from behind. Matching smiles on their faces and obvious happiness despite everything they’d survived. She feels a familar pull towards her purse, her camera all but calling out to her, and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

“Wait there one second,” she says, digging through her purse where she’d dumped it on the couch, “I’ve got to get a picture of this.”

“You and your camera,” Aaron says, his tone something devastatingly close to loving, and she playfully narrows her eyes at him. 

“Just hold still,” she replies, switching her camera on as she stands just a few feet away from them, “Smile.”

Jack smiles as widely as he can, his arms wrapped tightly around Aaron’s neck. Aaron smiles too, a sadness to it that she knows will be pressed into the picture itself. She looks at the small digital screen as the photo flashes up on it and then shows them as she walks over, smiling as Jack leans into her, his cheek against hers as he tries to get a closer look. 

“Can you read me a story now?” 

She chuckles and turns her head to kiss his cheek, “Of course,” she replies as she puts the camera back in her bag and then she turns to them, “Shall we let Daddy pick the book this time?” 

Jack nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, but you still have to read it. You do the voices better than he does.” 

She looks over at Aaron and smiles when their eyes meet, “You heard the boy.” 

She gets the picture printed and she puts it in a frame. She wraps it and places it on Aaron’s desk in the New Year, a note stuck to it that she’d one day find in her desk drawer. A desk that used to be his. 

This was too cute not to print. It reminded me of all the good that can exist with the bad, and I hope it does the same for you.

Emily x 

___

Two 

The weight of everything she was yet to say was heavy on her shoulders. 

She stays on the outskirts of the celebration, watching her friends - her family - all have fun. Joy and wine flowing amongst them all as they celebrate JJ and Will’s wedding. Somehow, the decision she’d made, the decision to leave even though she’s not entirely sure she ever truly came back, doesn’t make her feel any lighter. It was a relief. She could breathe easier now than she had in weeks, Clyde’s offer as timely as it had been tempting. But she didn’t feel lighter.

She would be leaving so much behind. A life she could have had if she’d just let herself in the rearview mirror as she once again ran away from everything she knew. 

She looks over at Aaron and Beth when she hears the other woman’s laugh and it makes her tense, anger and sadness she knows she has no right to feel coursing through her at the sight of them together. Emily could no longer deny that she was in love with Aaron. It was something she’d come to terms with a long time ago and the saddest part, the thing that kept her up at night, was that she knew he loved her too. 

There was a moment, nestled in between him starting to move forward after Haley's death and Ian coming back to tear her life apart, when they almost happened. He’d kissed her, the only kiss they had ever shared, and asked her on a date. She’d said yes, not having to think about it for a second, and she’d driven home feeling lighter and happier than she had in years. The next day, Sean McAllister called her and nothing was ever the same. 

When she came home, they never spoke about it. She wasn’t ready and he knew that because he knew her, and when she told him one night that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready she saw his heartbreak. She hated herself for doing it to him, but in the long run it was kinder. After everything he’d been through he deserved someone with less baggage, someone less complicated.

Someone like Beth. 

It didn’t make it hurt any less to see them together. Somehow, she thinks it hurts more because it was of her own design. If she’d never told him to move on, if she hadn’t insisted that he did, she knew he wouldn’t have. 

She blows out a slow breath and walks over to the bar. She grabs a glass of champagne and turns to watch everyone, her eyes always wandering back to Beth and Aaron. She watches as he holds her close and laughs, the ghost of his palm scalding on her back from when they’d danced as she watches him hold Beth in the same way. 

“You should tell him how you feel.”

She jumps as she turns to look at Dave and she chuckles dryly, “I need to get you a bell or something.” 

“I’m serious, Bella. If he knew you still felt that way, he’d never let you leave. And he certainly wouldn’t still be with Beth.” 

She hums sadly, “That’s why he can’t know.” 

Dave shakes his head, “Emily-”

“Dave, please,” she says, shaking her head at him as she cuts him off, “He deserves more than I can give him. And…I’m not sure if this place could ever be home to me now even if he was okay with that,” she reaches over and squeezes his arm, “It’s easier this way.”

“For who?”

She shrugs and laughs humourlessly, “I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.” 

Their conversation is cut off as Jack runs towards them, his hand wrapping around hers as he starts to tug her back towards the dance floor, “Dance with me, Emmy.” 

She smiles, hoping the little boy can’t see through the sheen of it, that he can’t see her broken heart underneath, “I can never say no to you, sweetheart.” 

She picks him up, groaning as she wonders when he got so big, and she throws Aaron a smile as they end up next to him and Beth. She dances with Jack, smiling and listening to everything he tells her, the little boy talking a mile a minute as he thrives on the excitement of the day. 

Eventually, she slips into the house for a break, to give herself a moment to gather herself, and she sees her purse where she’d left it on Dave’s kitchen counter. She roots through it and grabs her camera, the weight of it heavier than it ever had been as she decided to take the last set of pictures she’d have as someone who lived here, who was part of the day-to-day lives of the people she thought of as her family.

Going forward, she’d be a visitor, and that hurt more than she ever thought possible. 

She walks around Dave’s backyard and she takes pictures of everyone. Of JJ and Will dancing, Henry squished between them. Of Dave and Derek sneaking cigars, a moment they thought they’d get away with captured forever. 

She takes a picture of Jack and Aaron, the young boy stood in front of his father, his smile full of gaps from where he’d recently lost a couple of his teeth. Aaron’s hands are on his shoulders as he almost physically holds him in place, Jack’s excitement close to palpable still. He runs away the moment Aaron lets go, calling out for JJ as he asks if he can play with Henry. 

Emily smiles at Aaron and presses a couple of buttons on her camera, stepping towards him so she can show him the photo, “It’s a good one.” 

He leans in, the smell of his cologne almost overwhelming, tears pressing at the back of her eyes as she swallows thickly, the scent of him something that represented missed opportunities, and the life she could have allowed herself. 

“Oh, I love that one,” he says, his breath skipping over her cheek before he pulls back, “When you get a chance can you send it to me? I don’t have many photos of just the two of us.”  

“Of course,” she says, smiling tightly as she switches the camera off, “When I get home later I’ll put them all on my computer and email it to you.” 

He watches her carefully, and she’s not sure how to feel about how exposed she is, how well he knows her. There was a painful beauty in being known entirely by someone who you couldn’t have. 

“Em-”

“Tomorrow,” she promises him, her smile tighter as she reaches out and squeezes his arm, Beth’s curious gaze from a few feet away burning the back of her neck, “I promise.” 

He nods, concern sparkling in his eyes like the flecks of gold in his irises that she’d fallen in love with a long time ago, “It’s a date,” he says, repeating the words she’d said just a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” she replies, swallowing thickly, “It’s a date.” 

She prints herself a copy of the photo of him and Jack when she’s in London. She keeps it on her mantle amongst other photos of the team despite the ache she feels whenever she sees it. Its presence a penance of some sort for the decisions she’d made that had meant she never got to have Aaron, and the little boy she loved more than life itself, in the way she wanted to. 

___

Three

Her doctor was insistent that she get out of her apartment at least once a day. She’s furious about it, mumbling to herself as she walks around her local park, her hands in her pockets as she tries to keep them warm, but she does it anyway. Desperate to make sure she gets back to full strength after everything that had happened.

Peter Lewis had taken so much from her already, he wasn’t going to take her sanity from her too. 

In the three months since the car crash, since he’d tortured her for information she’d have died to protect, she’d struggled to leave her apartment. She felt equally trapped and terrified to leave, the outside world as big as it had ever been as she looked over her shoulder for a man that was dead whenever she stepped outside. She was used to being haunted, to being chased by the ghost of a man who had tried to kill her, but she’d forgotten what it felt like when it was fresh. How it felt when her body still ached if she moved a little too quickly when she jumped at an unexpected sound. 

She sighs to herself as she checks her watch, and she grumbles when she realises she’s only been walking for 20 minutes. She spots a nearby bench and walks over to sit down. She blows out a slow breath as she closes her eyes, making sure she’s purposeful as she breathes back in, fresh air and feeling she always associated with fall filling her lungs. 

“Emily?” 

She opens her eyes, her breath turning into a gasp at the unexpected voice, one she hadn’t heard in too long. One she hadn’t expected to hear ever again. She stands up, her eyebrows furrowed as she walks towards him, stopping just short of him just in case he disappears. 

“Aaron?” She chokes on a laugh, suddenly aware of her outfit made up of an old pair of leggings and her baggiest sweater covered by her jacket, “What…what are you doing here?” 

He smiles at her and nods behind him, “Jack wanted to come and see his grandfather and Jess, so we came back. I’m surprised Dave didn’t say anything, I told him we were in town.” 

She rolls her eyes as she thinks of their friend and his recommendation that she walk in this park this weekend, and she makes a mental note to tell him off for meddling later. She

 looks in the direction Aaron had nodded towards and she gasps, unsure how the tall gangly pre-teen standing next to Jessica could possibly be the little boy she’d once read bedtime stories to, “Wow, he’s…really grown up.” 

“Yeah,” he replies, his smile wistful and sad as she look at her, “He’ll be taller than me I think,” he says, his eyes sparking, “He’s already taller than you.” 

She laughs, and for a moment it’s like no time has passed at all. Like they were still almost a decade younger and talking around their feelings for each other, “I’m not that much shorter than you.” 

“You are when you aren’t wearing those boots you run around in,” he quips, his smile as gorgeous as she’d always remembered, “I…I heard about everything that happened.” 

She chokes on a dry laugh. During the all too brief conversation they’d had when they called to say that Lewis was dead, she’d purposely left out parts of it. Purposely not told him about what had happened to her in the name of protecting him and his son. She didn’t want a prize for it, didn’t want recognition, she just wanted what she’d always wanted - for him and Jack to be safe and happy. 

“And how did you hear about that?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. He smiles again, something she never remembered him doing quite so much, and he shrugs. 

“A little bird told me.” 

She hums, “Is this little bird Italian and too nosey for his own good?” 

He laughs, “Something like that,” he replies, and his smile fades, “Emily-”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she says, her arms tight over her chest as she tries to hold herself together, “It’s what you and I do for each other,” she smiles sadly, “We keep each other safe.” 

Aaron nods, his hands in tight fists by his sides as he tries to stop himself from reaching out for her. He’s nervous. Anxious in a way she hasn’t seen in years. Since he’d stood in the doorway of his apartment one evening what felt like a lifetime ago as he stamped a kiss against her lips, his request that she went on a date with him still echoing around them. It makes hope she hasn’t felt in years spark in her gut, her blood thrumming with it as she thinks that maybe, this time, she’ll allow herself to have what she’d always wanted. 

“At least let me buy you dinner?” He says, trying and failing to act casual, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spreads across her face if she wanted to. She presses her lips together and sighs, the reality that he was just visiting stamping out any hope. 

“Aaron, I…I can’t-”

“I’m assuming since Dave didn’t tell you I was in town, that he didn’t tell you we’re moving back here.” He says casually, as if it wasn’t life-changing, heart-healing, stuff that once again shifts her world on its axis. Her eyes go wide and he chuckles, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Don’t worry, your job is safe. I’m not coming back to the FBI.” 

She shakes her head, not having even thought about work, still overwhelmed by the thought that she was getting him back. She looks over at Jack, smiling as she watches him with Roy and Jessica. 

“You’re staying?”

Aaron nods, stepping closer to her, closing the gap they’d both built over the years. He reaches for her hand and squeezes, their fingers pressed together in a silent promise that they’d talk about everything. That they’d finally get it all figured out. 

“I’m staying.” 

She squeezes his hand tightly, imprints the feeling of being able to do so to memory, the press of his skin against hers something she only had hazy memories of from when he’d visited her in hospital. The dirt from where they’d buried her still clinging to the cuffs of his pants as he sat next to her bed and told her he’d catch Ian and bring her home. It’s how she knows this is real, that she won’t wake up on her couch having fallen asleep.

In her dreams, she’d never been able to recreate his impossible warmth. 

“Okay,” she says, smiling when he looks confused, her teeth sinking into the inside of her cheek as she tries to contain her smile at least a little, “I’ll to dinner with you.” 

He smiles and pulls her into a hug she gladly returns, her cheek against his chest for a moment before he pulls back. He kisses her cheek, and she turns her head, letting his lips catch the corner of hers before she steps back, a giddiness in her veins she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager and untouched by the pain that love could bring. 

“It’s a date,” she says, her smile getting wider as his does at the throwback to a conversation they’d had so long ago. 

“It’s a date,” he repeats, looking over his shoulder to his son, “I should get back. He wanted to come over and say hi, but things with Roy are…”

“It’s okay,” she replies, “We have time.”

He nods, “We do,” he squeezes her hand one more time and lets go, “I’ll call you later so we can plan dinner?”

“My number is the same,” she replies, hesitant to turn away, worried he’d disappear if she did, “I’ll speak to you later?”

“Later,” he promises, and he winks at her before he turns away. She watches him go, shock and awe still thrumming under her skin, and she sighs. 

She digs her phone out of her pocket and takes a picture of Aaron and Jack talking to each other in the distance, smiling as she realises Aaron was right - that Jack is already almost as tall as him. She sends it to Dave along with a message, and she takes one last look at Aaron and Jack before she turns to head home, content for the first time in a long time to believe that things would work out. 

Look who I just so happened to walk into at the park. Your meddling is second to none, old man. 

She laughs when she gets a response almost immediately, and she shakes her head at her friend before she puts her phone back in her pocket. 

Just make sure you remember to thank me at your wedding. 

___

Four 

She’s woken up by a soft kiss against her cheek and a gentle hand drawing circles on her back. She groans, pressing her face into her pillow and she grumbles as Aaron laughs at her.

“Wake up birthday girl,” he says, his voice raspy and gorgeous and hers. She opens one eye and frowns at him, the bite to it lost as he smiles at her. 

“I haven’t been a girl in a long time, honey,” she says, smiling as he leans in to kiss her. Her smile turns curious as she lays her head back on her pillow, “Have you been eating pancake batter?” 

He smiles and encourages her closer, her arms around his waist as she rests her head on his chest, “You’ll have to get out of bed to find out.” 

She hums and turns her head to kiss his chest, “In a minute,” she says, smothering a yawn against his t-shirt, the slight spatter of flour standing out against it making her smile, “I want to lay here for a little bit first.” 

Aaron kisses the top of her head, “Whatever you want, sweetheart. It’s your birthday.” 

There were times when she still couldn’t believe she had this. That she had him. That they had each other. Even now, almost two years since they’d first walked into each other in the park, it still felt surreal sometimes. They’d fallen into the relationship she thinks they should have always had easily. Their first date had lasted almost 48 hours. They’d gone for dinner and then he’d come back to hers and stayed the entire weekend, his smile wry and soft as he explained Jack was with Jessica, and had told him not to come back until Emily was officially his girlfriend. 

They’d told each other they loved each other that weekend. Had laid in amongst her soft sheets, hands trailing across skin they’d imagined for years. It was fast, fast in a way she would have been uncomfortable with if it was anyone else, but it felt right. 

It felt like everything they’d been walking towards for years. 

They lived together in a house they’d chosen between the three of them - Jack just a few paces behind them as he quipped that at least he’d be less likely to walk in on them making out if they had more room than in their old apartment. He was 14 now and she was proud of him, prouder than she thought she had any real right to be. He was Aaron through and through. He was kind and smart, and reserved in a way she found nothing short of adorable, even if he would frown at her if she ever told him that. 

She loved them both, and they both loved her. There were times when she wished she’d had more time with them, the reality that if she’d allowed herself to love Aaron years ago they could have had more. That there could be little girls and boys that were half him and half her. Kids she never knew the names or faces of who would visit her dreams. She’d drown in the could have beens sometimes, but then Jack would make her laugh, or she’d snuggle up against Aaron in bed and she’d remember what she did have - a life she’d once convinced herself she didn’t deserve. 

“What do you want to do today?” Aaron asks as he trails his fingers up and down her arm. She tilts her head to look at him and stamps her lips against his, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place. 

“I just want to hang out with you and Jack,” she says, kissing him again, her smile wide as she pulls back, “And maybe by starting with those pancakes you two are making me.” 

He chuckles and kisses her forehead, “Speaking of the pancakes - Jack sent me up here because they are almost ready.” 

She smiles widely, “He’s in charge today, huh?” 

“He insisted,” Aaron says, kissing her once more before he unwraps himself from around her so they can both get out of bed, “He barely let me help.” 

She shrugs his robe over her shoulders and ties it around her waist, grabbing her phone from the nightstand to drop it into the robe's pockets before she walks towards him. She takes a moment to breathe in his scent on the fluffy soft material, humming contentedly when he wraps his arms around her, letting her breathe him in from the source. 

“I love you,” she says, suddenly overwhelmed by it as she looks up at him. She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling at the salt and pepper at his temples, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replies, his hand on her lower back as he tugs her closer, “I’m glad we made it here.” 

“Me too,” she replies, stamping her lips against his. The kiss is lost to a laugh as Jack yells up the stairs, an irritated tone to his voice that only a teenager could manage. 

“Dad, Emily, the pancakes are ready. Stop making out and come downstairs.” 

Emily chuckles and she wraps both of her arms around one of Aaron’s as they walk out of their bedroom, “He’s so stern,” she says, smiling up at her boyfriend as they head down the stairs, “I wonder where he gets it from.” 

“It’s a mystery,” Aaron deadpans before winking at her as they walk into the kitchen. He smiles as she gasps at the spread of food on the kitchen island, the marble of it almost entirely covered in plates of pancakes, bacon, pastries and fruit. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

She smiles at him, but is pulled into a hug by Jack before she can say anything else, and she hugs him back immediately. 

“Happy birthday, Emily.” 

“Thanks, kiddo,” she replies, kissing his cheek before she pulls back, smiling at the spread of food in front of her, “You’ve both been busy.” 

“We wanted to do all your favourites,” Jack says, “Dad even went out first thing this morning to that bakery you like.” 

She turns to her boyfriend, her smile so wide her cheeks ached with it, “That’s all the way across town.” 

He shrugs like it doesn’t mean everything that he did that for her, “It’s your birthday.” 

She shakes her head lovingly at him and then back at all the food, “Well, we should get started,” she says, digging through the pocket of Aaron’s robe to grab her phone, “But I want a picture of you with you both with it all first.” 

Jack groans and rolls his eyes, “But Emily-”

“There’s no point in arguing with her, buddy,” Aaron says, smiling as he wraps his arm around his son’s shoulders, “The sooner we let her take the photo, the sooner we can eat.” 

Jack sighs but nods in agreement, a smile painted across his face as Emily takes the picture. She sends it to the BAU group chat, knowing they’d get a kick out of seeing Aaron so casual, and then she slips her phone back into her pocket. 

She had breakfast with her boys to enjoy.

___

Five

It had been, without a doubt, the happiest day of her life. 

She sighs contently as she sits down, looking around the backyard she’d once broken her own heart in at JJ’s wedding. Emily wished she could go back and tell herself that it would all work out in the end, that she’d take the time she needed to heal, that she’d almost forget this was something she’d ever wanted, but that she’d eventually get it all. 

She smiles as her husband walks towards her, his bowtie he’d insisted on how undone and hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar. He sits next to her and she kisses him as soon as he’s close enough, unable to get enough of him today of all days. 

“Hey handsome,” she murmurs against his lips, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place. 

“Hi,” he replies, smiling so widely her lips only catch the corners of his, “How are you feeling?” 

She hums and rests her head on his shoulder, looking back out at their guests, members of the BAU - past and present - all dancing and laughing together, “I’m perfect.” 

He chuckles and kisses her cheeks, “I’ve been telling you that for years. Now you believe me.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “You’re cheesy.” 

“I’m allowed to be on our wedding day.” 

She smiles, completely unable to stop herself, and she leans in to kiss him again, “Okay, I’ll let it go today,” she hums contentedly against his lips, “Today was…”

She drifts off, entirely unsure how to put it into words, how to explain even after all this time how she felt about him. But he knows, because of course he does, and he simply reaches for her hand, his fingers tangled through hers as he lifts their joint hands to kiss her knuckles. 

“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.” 

“I…” she clears her throat, not wanting to cry, again, today, “I’m so glad we made it here.” 

Aaron wraps his arm around her shoulders and holds her close, his lips against her forehead as he presses love and comfort in equal measure against her skin, “Me too, sweetheart. I never doubted we would.” 

She scoffs as she pulls back to look at him, her eyebrow raised and her eyes full of love and mirth, “Really? Even when we lived on different continents, were in relationships with other people and you were in hiding?” 

He shrugs, his smile soft and entirely hers, a spark in his eyes she wouldn’t have thought he was capable of when they first met, “Even then.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and captures his chin in her hand, tugging him in for a kiss, “You’re a ridiculous man, Aaron Hotchner,” she kisses him again, “But you’re my ridiculous man.” 

“Your’s forever,” he says, rubbing his nose against hers, and she nods, her lungs stuffed full of love for him and their life together. 

“Mine forever.” 

They sit there for a moment, their foreheads pressed together as they soak each other in, but they are interrupted by a loud laugh from JJ and Penelope reminding them that they aren’t alone.

“Later?” Aaron says, and she nods, her fingers tangled around his loose bow tie. 

“Later,” she confirms, and she smiles at him, “I need to get a picture of you and Jack before you lose any more of your tux, ” she says tugging at the bow tie again, her smile getting wider at his loving eye roll. 

“I knew you’d say that,” he says, standing up and beckoning over his son. Jack runs over immediately, none of the usual arguing about taking a picture anywhere to be found, and the matching mischievous smiles on his and Aaron’s faces make her narrow her eyes. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Aaron says, his hands in his pockets as he stands next to Jack, “Take your photo.” 

She hums, not believing him for a second, but she picks her phone up from the table regardless, her focus briefly on it as she opens up the camera app. When she looks back up at them she laughs loudly, shaking her head at the sight of them with their shirts now unbuttoned. They were each wearing a t-shirt with a different photo print screened on it - Jack’s with the one she’d taken of them in front of the Christmas tree years ago, and Aaron’s with the one from JJ’s wedding in this very place. She shakes her head as she stands up, already taking photos of them, wanting as many of this moment as she could possibly have.

“You two are lucky I love you,” she says, pretending to grumble in a way they all know is fake. 

“We really are, sweetheart,” Aaron says, winking at her when Jack groans with embarrassed disgust, “We really are.” ___

+ One 

She makes sure she has her phone with her several times before they leave the house. She simply glares at her husband when he smiles at her as he tells her she’s more likely to leave it behind if she keeps taking it out of her purse to check it is there. He kisses her in response, his lips against her cheek and then her lips as he tells her it would be fine, that she had her phone and he had his, and that he had the mobile battery pack just in case she took enough photos she ran out of battery. 

She doesn’t tell him that she saw him making sure he had enough storage on his phone last night, doesn’t remind him that they’d sat up in bed, her cheek against his shoulder as they scrolled through all the photos of Jack in his favourites folder. She simply lets him make gentle fun of her, well aware that focusing on lovingly teasing his wife was a way of distracting him from what was happening today, another milestone in Jack’s life that seemed to be slipping through their fingers. 

It was, after all, his son’s high school graduation. 

Jack had looked achingly grown up when he’d left the house that morning. He’d asked if he could head there with his friends, if they could meet him there and be on their best behaviour, and neither one of them had the heart to say no. Emily kept shifting between being sad about the boy she loved as her own becoming a man, and worrying about her husband, the same melancholy in his smile that he’d have every time he was reminded Jack was growing up.

Every time he was reminded of all the things that Haley missed out on. 

Even now, she knew that his guilt lingered. That he could never entirely shake off the thought that he’d been responsible for Haley’s head and for costing his son his mother. Emily had spent years doing everything she could assuring him that it wasn’t the case, that he’d done what Haley had asked - that he’d raised their son with love and joy. Sometimes, all she could do was hold him close, hug his head to her chest and remind him of everything he did have. Of the life they’d built together for them and Jack, and the promises he’d kept to help make that happen. 

She squeezes his hand when they arrive at the ceremony, and she throws him a wink when he smiles down at her. 

“You ready?” She asks, and he blows out a shaky breath, leaning down to kiss her cheek as they look for their seats. She chuckles and squeezes his hand, throwing a look at Jack in his seat amongst all the other graduates, her smile only getting wider when he shakes his head at them, “I think PDA counts as not being on our best behaviour.” 

Aaron laughs and waves at his son, his smile getting wider when Jack shakes his head, the smile on his face letting them both know he wasn’t actually embarrassed by them. He finds their seats, smiling as Jessica waves them over to their spot. “We should sit down.” 

She keeps both of her hands wrapped around Aaron’s throughout the ceremony, only disconnecting one of them from him when it’s Jack’s turn to walk across the stage so she can take photos on her phone. When they find him afterwards, she stands back as Aaron pulls Jack into a hug, one he returns gratefully, and she sneaks a few photos of that moment too, knowing she’d want to return to it again and again on the bad days. 

“Okay,” she says, getting their attention and making her look at them. She smiles when Jack rolls his eyes, “Just play ball for a few seconds and then I’ll stop.” 

Jack chuckles and rolls his eyes again, a trait Aaron always liked to say he’d picked up from her, “Mom, give the phone to Aunt Jess, you need to be in the picture.”

It had been a few years since he’d started to call her mom. Since Emily had given way to the name she never thought she’d get to have. It had happened overnight, one day he called her the name he always had and the next she was his mom. Aaron had told her afterwards that Jack had been toying with the idea for a long time, that he’d been unsure how to broach it because he didn’t want to upset anyone. In the end, Roy’s passing had been the last push he’d needed, the death of his grandfather - and the bitterness towards Aaron that had died with him - letting Jack finally do what he’d wanted to do for years. 

He always said he was lucky enough to have two moms - one who’d loved him when he was small, and one who loved him now, who had helped shape him into the man he was becoming. 

Emily smiles and turns to Jess, unsurprised to find her already holding out her hand for her phone, “Thanks.” 

She stands in between Jack and Aaron, both of them towering over her, and she wraps her arms around them both. 

“Now, I know you’re not used to being on this side of the camera,” Aaron jokes, his smile only getting wider when she pinches his side, “So make sure you smile.” 

She shakes her head as Jack laughs from her other side, and she looks at the camera, smiling as Aaron squeezes her waist, his thumb tracing back and forth over her hip. A small show of his love for her, a much needed reminder of everything she had now, of the fact it was real, as she stood between her husband and her son.

“Okay,” Jess says, holding up Emily’s phone to take the picture, “Smile.” 

She smiles, because what else could she do when she was this happy. 

[haddonfieldwhore]

welcome to new york - will borgen

will borgen x reader

summary: just when you thought your biggest concern was what to get your boyfriend for his birthday…

warnings: angst maybe? (idk this is how im coping) not edited in the slightest sorry

word count: 1k

“would you accompany me to the edge of the sea

let me know if you're really a dream

i love you so, so would you go with me?”

as someone who prided themself on always getting the perfect gift, you weren’t exactly sure how you’d managed to wait until the last day to get your boyfriend, will, a birthday present this year. his birthday was tomorrow, and while you hadn’t forgotten the upcoming date, you had left shopping to the last minute which you never did.

you and will had been together for almost 3 years now, and you were always trying to get a better gift than the year before.

you had gotten the cake and ingredients to cook his favourite dinner, but would have to sneak to the mall while he was at practice today.

“hey,” he smiled as he came downstairs from the room you shared. after a year of dating you had moved in with will and his teammate matty, who had very quickly become one of your best friends.

“hey baby,” you smiled as he kissed your cheek. “off to practice?”

“yeah,” he confirmed, purring his shoes on and yelling for matty to hurry up. the sound of the younger kraken clambering down the stairs made you and will laugh, and you waved goodbye as the boys headed out the door.

once they pulled out of the driveway, you ran upstairs to get ready to head to the mall.

let the shopping begin.

•

it was only about an hour later when you had found a few thing for will for his birthday; a couple nice new hoodies, some snacks he liked, and a few little things that just caught your eye or reminded you of him, when your phone rang.

you pulled it out of your pocket and saw a picture of you and will across the screen, meaning he was calling.

“hey honey, what’s up?” you asked; there was no way practice was over that fast, and you hoped nothing bad had happened.

“uh, it’s kinda of a-“ he sighed, stumbling over his words like he didn’t know how to tell you whatever it was that made him call you.

“are you okay?” you asked, worried he got injured in practice or something like that; your mind often drifting to the worst case scenario.

“yeah - it’s,” he sighed. “i’d rather tell you in person actually. can you come to the iceplex?”

this only tripled your worrying, but you agreed, deciding that the shopping would have to wait as this was definitely more important.

“of course, i’ll be there in 20, okay?”

“okay, love you.”

“i love you too,” you smiled. “see you soon.”

•

after carefully hiding the bags of gifts in the safety of the trunk, you walked from your car into the kraken practice arena, and you were suprised to find will not dressed to skate. instead, he was waiting in the lobby, standing as he saw you approaching.

his expression was hard to read, but he greeted you with a hug as he always did; though he held you a little tighter than normal.

“hey, is everything okay?” you asked as you pulled away, his hand remaining on your hips as you looked up at him, trying to read his face for any hint as to what was going on.

“uhm,” he scratched the back of his head, his brown hair that had begun to grow long again peeking out from under his beanie as he did so.

“i mean i guess so-“ he shrugged but his voice sounded unsure, and you smiled sadly. will was one of the most easy going people you had ever met. he hardly ever got over emotional (except sometimes on the ice).

“whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“ron wanted to see me when i got here -“ he sighed, his eyes leaving yours as his gaze flickered down to the floor. your heart skipped a beat; usually a meeting with the GM only meant one of a few things, and in this case it was the one you feared the most.

“he wanted to let me know that i’ve been traded,” will finally said, lifting his gaze to meet yours again, waiting for your reaction.

you processed for a minute, nodding as you took his hands in yours.

“okay,” you took a deep breath. as much as it was not the news you expected when you woke up this morning, you knew it was apart of the business. things were always moving in the nhl, and sometimes it felt like the players were seen as just pieces in the game rather than people.

but they knew what they were signing up for, and so did you when you got involved with will. there was always the possibility of being traded, and having to uproot your whole life overnight.

you and will had talked about it in passing once or twice, about whether or not you would go with him if he left seattle, and while you hadn’t expected the day to come - nevermind so soon - you had made up your mind a long time ago.

your life was wherever will was.

“so where are we going?” you smiled up at him.

“you want to come with me and you don’t even know where i’m going?” he asked with a half smile.

“well yeah,” you said like it was obvious. “i love seattle, but it’s not my home; you are.”

will smiled and kissed your lips softly.

“i love you,” he smiled, pulling you into another hug.

“i love you too,” you squeezed him tightly, your arms around his torso as he cradled the back of your head. “so …. where are we going?” you asked again, and you both giggled.

“new york - the rangers.”

“i guess we should go pack?”

“probably,” he nodded. “i’ll just give matty my keys and i can get a ride back home with you.”

“yeah, of course,” you smiled, and watched him walk back towards the locker room to leave his keys for your housemate.

soon to be former housemate your brain corrected, and you felt a sadness weighing heavy in your heart.

you had lived in seattle most of your life, and would definitely miss it, and the friends you had made on the kraken team.

but home wasn’t a place, you realized. it was a person, and he smiled at you as he reappeared in the lobby.

“ready to go?” he asked, reaching for your hand. you linked your fingers with his, looking around the building for maybe the last time.

“yeah, i’m ready.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[officerwhitmore]

One of the things Vincent had begun to admire about Tony was just how… thoughtful he was. He had a way of watching Vince with his full attention, eyes roving his face for any minute movement or emotional indications, the gears in his brain slowly turning as he processed Vince’s every word. Even when he was silent, he seemed to be thinking. Processing his next response or lack thereof. It wasn’t lost on Vincent that sometimes, perhaps even oftentimes, whatever Vincent said or did seemed to make the man speechless. It wasn’t something they had in common. Vincent had a tendency to speak before he thought, lending to a whirlwind of words and sentiments that were only halfway relevant; Tony took his time. Chewed on them. Lingered.

Often, that meant that Tony said less than Vincent would’ve liked, leaving Vincent with very few words he could use to interpret what Tony was thinking. Like exactly now, when Tony’s only response to Vince’s monologue about serendipity was a mere, ‘Yeah, I remember you said that.’ That was all. Nothing else. It nearly made Vince frustrated because he saw it in his eyes, he knew that he was thinking and not speaking; that he was holding something back. It made Vince feel impatient. Rarely did he appreciate things like that. He valued honesty, openness — transparency, in a word. At least in relationships with people who meant something to him. It was a thought that brought with it an unwelcome realization. He’d begun to apply those expectations to this man whom he never intended to speak to again. Relationship expectations, serious standards, like this would (or even could or should, for that matter) become anything more. And wasn’t that a fucking loaded word. ‘More.’ More could mean friends, friends with benefits, fuckbuddies. More could mean… partners. Or whatever one called the cheating equivalent.

None of those things could, would, or should ever happen, but there was some stupid part of him that looked at Tony’s face and thought that if he ever did, for whatever reason, choose a friend, fuckbuddy, or (affair) partner, Tony would be… perfect. As perfect as Vincent was saying he was at this very minute, circling and pinching Tony’s nipple until he threw his head back and sighed and rolled his hips, the picture of want and bliss. Vincent’s doing. If Stella had ever responded to Vincent like that, he couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember them doing anything like this — this sexual intimacy while conveying something personal, this hybrid communication, this strange body-speak that Vincent had always believed only occurred in fiction.

This was incalculably dangerous. Vince’s thoughts, Vincent’s words, Vincent’s tender treatment of the man beneath him. If he’d been looking for a casual wam-bam fuck that send him back into the world cum-drunk and never bother him again, he’d clearly chosen the wrong guy. This guy was too compelling, too gorgeous, too sweet, too good. Too… special. Too perfect. Perfect enough that Vincent had made the mistake of telling him twice. Not once, but two times. Reinforced himself, assured Tony that he was serious as a heart attack, so he better believe it. And Tony, this compelling, gorgeous, sweet, and special guy, nodded for him, head back, eyes closed, listening closely to Vincent’s every word.

Then Vincent kissed him more sweetly than he had any business doing for a hookup, and Tony sighed against his lips, squeezed his thigh, and held his hand a little harder.

It was encouraging to see Tony pass his eyes down to his cock as Vincent stroked himself and told him all about how badly he needed this, pulling at Tony’s belt and boxers to get the slimmest peek of what he was hiding beneath them. When Vincent gripped at himself at the base of his cock to stave off an imminent orgasm, Tony took it upon himself to sabotage his efforts, wrapping his hand around the top of his cock and circling the tip with the pad of his thumb, the stimulation running through Vince’s body like electricity, making him shiver and moan. He gripped himself harder, but the effort was nearly futile as Tony slid his opposite hand up his thigh and to his hip, where he squeezed him once, then to his bare side, where he squeezed him again. Vince would never tire of his palms, his warmth, his gentle touch. It would always make him shudder; make him feel that flutter he could never bite back.

Vince was in so much pleasure that he hardly opened his eyes in time to see Tony smile at him with perfect lips and straight white teeth, and the image was so stunning it took his breath away. Vincent had never been happier to be thanked. And when Tony finally said it, finally acknowledged Vince’s musings on serendipity, the flutter in his chest bloomed into something so dangerous, Vincent had no other choice but to slide off of his lap, lest he do or say something even more stupid than calling him perfect.

Vincent’s gut twisted at the sight of Tony’s predatory grin, the heat and hunger so raw, it was almost intimidating — but only in the best of ways. Stepping between Tony’s legs and smoothing his palms up his thighs as he passed himself down to his knees, Vincent had little doubt that Tony would use him the way he’d desired for the better half of his life. Looking up at Tony from between his knees, he put on that grin and told him to give it to him. His want, his hunger, his throbbing cock. The grin on Tony’s lips grew wider as he worked at his belt, deft hands making quick work of the thick silver buckle. Vincent’s eyes were glued to the cock that strained against Tony’s dark slacks, but he registered Tony’s compliment on his dirty talk, feeling a red flush creep up the back of his neck. With a soft scoff, he rolled his eyes and shook his head a little. “Oh yeah,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm as he watched Tony’ slip his thumb beneath the hem of his boxers. “I’m a total fucking sex god.”

The instant Tony lifted his hips and pushed his slacks and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, his cock sprang up and slapped the caramel plane of his abdomen with an audible noise that Vince only faintly heard over his own breathless groan. Somehow, Tony’s cock was even thicker than it had felt when he’d gripped it while pressed against the wall; even longer than it’d felt while pressed against his ass, warm and solid as Tony rolled his hips and forced it against him as hard as he could manage. Vincent’s mouth had already begun to water, eyes wide, jaw open, probably looking as braindead as a fucking lobotomite. It had to be a foot long, at least. At least.

“Holy fuck, Tony,” he said, more breath than speech. He only managed to meet his eyes for a moment before they snapped back down to the cock in front of him like a magnet. “This isn’t a dick, man, this is a fucking anaconda.” He might’ve chuckled at himself if he’d intended it as a joke, but the words were dead fucking serious. How Tony managed to walk with that beast hanging off of him was beyond his comprehension. Vincent had never felt happier to be a grower.

Vincent was so enamored with Tony’s cock, eyes tracing the thick veins that spidered up its length like lightning, that he fell forward when Tony brought him closer with a calf against his ass, catching his balance by tightening his grip on his thick thighs. A hard shudder quaked through him when Tony slid his fingers into his hair, blunt nails making his scalp tingle until he found the perfect spot and gripped it, tugging Vincent’s head close enough to smell the faint musk that came off of him, an unfamiliar drug that instantly became his new addiction.

’Open your mouth,’ Tony said, and it was an order if Vincent had ever heard one, spoken with full confidence that Vincent would obey. It struck something deep within Vince that he’d only ever suspected himself of possessing. A calm spread through him — the calm that came from surrendering his options willingly; letting someone else have the responsibility because he didn’t want it and not because they wanted to take it from him. A calm that started in his brain and bloomed deliciously through his entire being, centering in his throbbing cock. He felt his mouth fall open, wet and pink, and focused on the man’s deep brown eyes as Tony guided the head of his cock to his lips.

Vincent breathed a long, hard sigh as Tony’s cock slid against his bottom lip, back and forth and back again, soft and hot and as tender as their last kiss, though this time it was filthily sinful, Vincent’s eyes fluttering shut at the sheer thought of it sliding in deeper. Tony lifted it up the instant Vincent slid his tongue out for a taste, and Vince nearly whined at the teasing, shuddering as the man tapped it against his lips. ’Tongue first,’ Tony said, to which Vince frustratedly thought, ’Yeah, that was the plan,’ but kept inside his head for fear that Tony would tease him again if he said it. The man’s next order, however, ’No teeth,’ cracked through the last of his patience and he huffed a frustrated little laugh and shot him a glance that might’ve contained a bit of fond annoyance, though it was softened by the smile on his lips. “Right,” he breathed, a bit sarcastic. “Let me just retract my fangs real quick.”

Vincent’s small grin faded as he looked back down at Tony’s cock, jaw slackening, lips falling open, eyes going dark and hooded as the lust all flooded back into his brain at once and nearly made him feel dizzy. “God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, lips a hair’s breadth away from Tony’s tip before gently pressing against it, mouth tingling at the texture of the soft, warm skin. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, and gave it a wet, lingering kiss before closing his eyes and taking his tongue to the tip, flattening it against the head of Tony’s cock in one long, wet stripe, tasting skin and salt and something else he couldn’t describe with any word other than Tony’s name.

Once he got that first taste, he couldn't get enough of it, tilting his chin down to lick at the underside with broad, curious strokes, ducking a little to get lower, lower, as he pressed hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down its length. He stopped when his lips met Tony’s hand, giving him one last kiss before dragging his tongue up the underside in one slow, wet stroke, tasting every vein along the way and moaning against him. By the time he reached the very tip, his slow, steady breaths had turned into hard, hot, pants, shoulders rising and falling with every inhale. Catching his breath, he looked down at Tony’s cock for a good, long moment and worked his tongue in his mouth, building up spit, thinking in detail about the process he’d used to swallow those stupid fucking bananas. It’d been a decade, at least — the last time he’d done it was about three years into his employment with the PHPD, purely for the amusement of his assigned partner, a lovely older lady who told him to ’Prove it or shut up, sweetie.’ She was stunned into silence. After an awkward HR visit, he was assigned a new partner the next week for some reason. Fucking boomers, man.

Closing his eyes, he mouthed the process to himself for a moment, nodding minutely as he ran through it. Build spit, relax throat, etcetera etcetera fucking do it already, he’s gonna blow any minute. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at Tony through his eyelashes, unable to resist giving him a slow, mischievous smirk. “You ready?” he asked, voice low and rough with lust, a little boyish, a little playful. "You're not gonna believe this shit, dude, check it out.”

Then he leaned down and ran his tongue in a slow, wet circle around the head of Tony’s cock, eyes fluttering shut at the heat and texture of it. Kissing the tip for a long, teasing moment, he parted his lips and sucked Tony’s cock inside, instantly devastated by a long, shuddering moan as his mouth was filled in one measure, Tony’s cock hot as sin against his slurping tongue. His chest rose in a steady breath as he relaxed his throat and swallowed it deeper, the act of being filled sending a shiver down his spine as Tony’s cock disappeared into his throat inch by inch. A ripple of heat spread through his body like an infection, silencing his thoughts, his throat flexing rhythmically as it accommodated Tony size. He only stopped when his lips met Tony’s fist, jaw aching, throat burning with the intrusion. Overcome by lust, desire, boiling heat, he slid a hand off of Tony’s thigh, pulled the man’s hand off of his cock by the wrist, and forced himself the rest of the way down until the tip of his nose was buried in the coarse, dark hair at the base of Tony’s cock.

Vincent’s own cock twitched between his legs, pressed flush against the cool leather couch as it throbbed almost painfully, woefully untouched. Taking long, hot breaths, he didn’t move until Tony told him to, luxuriating in the strange, raw bliss he found in being filled by Tony so completely. No hunger, no fear, no anxiety. No pain, no guilt, no shame. He didn’t even want to die.

And it occurred to him in one strange, slow moment, that for the first time perhaps in his entire life, he felt truly okay.

It was no surprise to hear Vince admit he’d gone through therapy. Not to speak poorly of crying or anything - everyone did that, including him recently - but it just somehow added to his vision of Vince as someone who had his shit together. If Vince had problems (and everyone had problems of some kind) then of course he did the responsible adult thing. He went to therapy, dealt with it, and continued to deal with it. Vince didn’t seem like the kind of guy to wallow. Tony bet then and there that he didn’t sit around and drink cheap shitty beer and fall asleep in front of a cheap shitty television watching football because sleeping slouched on the couch was sometimes nominally more comfortable on his back than sleeping on a broken-down mattress that sagged in the worst places, and the football reminded him of when he could watch anything he wanted on a huge wide-screen high-definition television while sitting in a comfortably plush leather recliner. It was a Lay-Z-Boy brand recliner, electric adjustable footrest and back, with a cupholder on the side and a pair of USB charger plug-ins for phones, video game controllers, anything that used such a connection. It was the damn fanciest chair and it was like sitting on a cloud.

Right now, if he wasn’t so focused on Vince in his lap, he’d be paying more attention to feeling the frame and lumps of the couch under him. If he moved a few inches to the left, he’d have a wooden bar pressed into his lower back and another one under his leg that cut off circulation if you sat there for too long.

Not running into many good people was a hell of an understatement, as it applied to his entire life. Sadly, it wasn’t just the people around him that were not good. He wasn’t a good person himself. The quiet realization that the only good person who he’d been around for a very long time was sitting in his lap at this very minute blossomed in his mind - and in his chest. Tony tried not to think about what that feeling meant, but it was hard to ignore. That sensation fluttered a little harder when Vince reminded him of his comment about serendipity dropping blessings into his lap.

“Yeah, I remember you said that,” Tony murmured quietly, nodding along. ’Meet someone who doesn’t give you bruises, brightens up your day, makes it easier’ Vince had said, sheepish and averting his eyes. It made him remember that the bruise Hana gave him was still on his arm - fading away, but not gone yet. It had been months since he’d had a truly bright day that he looked forward to until this one. Months since he had a day where everything wasn’t a struggle of some kind. Watching the way Vince took a breath and sucked on his bottom lip, there was a little flicker of something that came alive in his mind that he dare not put to words now. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. He hadn’t earned the right to say or feel it. He was off-base and wrong and stupid and under no circumstances could he let Vince know that th- no, he wouldn’t even think it, he was that wrong. Vince was married and this was a hookup and they’d never speak about it again afterwards.

Tony did not deserve kindness, not after spending twenty-some years funneling tools of murder across the US/Mexico border in both directions and into the hands - directly or indirectly - of gang members, cartel goons, small-time criminals, drug pushers, and worse. God only knew what kinds of things his work made possible. Murder, no doubt. He may as well have blood on his own hands for that. It was the things worse than murder that ate away at him, that kept him up at night, that made him drink the shitty beer and accept this as punishment in the first place.

In some ways, he was not worthy of prison either, where he’d get three meals a day and a place to sleep guaranteed, with some opportunities for prison programs when he could prove he wasn’t a troublemaker. Not only that, he’d probably find some allies in prison. People he supplied, who would be happy to have him on their side again, who would commiserate with him for getting caught. He could tell them the story of Hana, and they’d all nod and understand how it could happen. They all thought with their dick at times, and quite a few probably had a woman on the outside despite the dangers they were in. The heart makes stupid decisions at the worst times. It made him think back to a comment he overheard once, many years ago, at a hazy club: ’Incluso Pinochet tenía una esposa.’ Even Pinochet had a wife.

Now that he was a C.I., he wouldn’t be welcomed like that. He was a traitor and a snitch - things somehow worse than being a murderer. He’d never been in prison before, but knew plenty of people who had, and knew well there was a social order within each one. Snitches and people who touched kids were at the very bottom, despite being worlds apart in terms of wrongdoing. Both usually wound up dead at the hands of fellow inmates. Even among scum, there was a pecking order.

It almost hurt that Vince knew so little about him that he could still truly believe Tony deserved kindness. And here he was, telling Tony he thought he was just the kind of guy to show kindness, the kind of person who is perfect. Looking into Vince’s eyes he could tell Vince wasn’t bullshitting him, admitting he might not know it all but at least he’d seen enough to make a judgment up to this point.

Was Vince right? He had no idea what it meant to be a good person anymore. He’d done bad things and been praised for it, and good things and been punished for it. The world was nonsensical like that.

The dark thoughts swirling around his head parted like drying storm clouds when Vince put a hand on his chest and circled his thumb around a nipple again. He leaned his head back against the couch and let out a heavy exhale, goosebumps racing along his skin when Vince rolled that skin between his fingers. That action made him roll his hips against Vince’s, nodding at the other man’s “Okay?”

He’d agree anything was okay if he could just get more of this. More touches, more kisses, more of those hands on his body, more of those moans filling his head. The kiss that followed - warm, gentle, and sweet - melted the last of those rain clouds from his brain. Watching Vince stroke himself in his lap, talking about how he’s needed it in a long fucking time, felt like the sun coming out again.

Tony reached forward with both hands: one settling on the head of Vince's cock to circle his thumb around the tip and tease him while he stroked, the other hand sliding up Vince's leg and coming to rest on his hip. He gave Vince's hip and side a squeeze, intending it to be a reassuring gesture. "Thank you," Tony murmured, smiling as his eyes went to Vince's face though he couldn't help but steal some glances downward. Watching Vince stroke himself was mesmerizing. "You're right. Serendipity and all of it."

The smile that crossed Tony’s lips at the sight of Vince getting on his knees between his legs was devilish, hungry, maybe even a little predatory. All previous thoughts about his moral and personal failings were out the window at the sight of a man this drop-dead gorgeous getting on his knees and practically begging to be told what to do.

“Good God, you really know what to say to get me hard as a rock, don’t you?” Tony murmured, easily parting his legs to make room for Vince. Whatever sadness there was in missing the sight of Vince’s cock was replaced by the imminent excitement of knowing what was to come. With his lap unencumbered now, he lifted his hips and pushed his slacks and boxers down off his hips, pushing them down to mid-thighs. He thought about just kicking them off entirely, but there was something sexy and desperate about going at this half-undressed yet.

Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he tucked one leg behind Vince’s back and nudged him close, reaching out for Vince’s hair with one hand as he did so. His fingers slid through Vince’s hair, tugging gently to pull him closer. “Open your mouth.” Tony’s voice was firm though not terribly loud - it was an order, not a request.

When Vince got closer, Tony guided the head of his cock to Vince’s lips, and gently slid the tip back and forth across Vince’s lower lip. It was light and teasing at first, the feeling of soft, warm, wet skin against the underside of the head of his cock inviting and tantalizing.

“Use your tongue first - gentle before picking up speed. No teeth.” He felt like he probably didn’t need to caution Vince against teeth, but giving a blowjob was a very different situation than receiving one and it was easy to forget once you got into it. He tapped his cock a few times against Vince’s lips, teasing him with it. After being hard this long, he could hardly wait to get himself inside Vince’s lips.