#wanna make sure i give plenty of cws because of Heart In A Box

[roguelibrarian]

Aggressively Arospec Week: Aromantic Jewish Moodboards

Cristina Yang / רחל בת אברהם ושרה / Rachel bat Avraham v'Sarah

It's still technically Aggressively Arospec Week for 40 more minutes in my time zone, so this is totally not late. Anyway, Cristina is extremely aro-coded and canonically Jewish. And thank you/shout out to @altschmerzes for helping me come up with a Hebrew name for her.

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

[rami-hoe]

Confessions Part 6

Pairing: Josh x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

CW: smut, swearing 

Josh had ended up deferring his acceptance to the film program so he could take his first year at home. It was a good deal- he was taking a full time psychology program, so when he transferred, he would have almost all of the electives he needed, and he could take some film courses on the side to get familiar with the subject. The best thing about it by far was that it gave us another year before he moved out of state. 

To be honest, I felt like one of those over dramatic teenagers who treat their boyfriends going to class like he was going off to war. I missed Josh like crazy. I was starting to feel a little co-dependent. I guess I was just spoiled; I’d spent our entire relationship seeing him pretty much every day. We spent at least six hours a day in the same building, stealing kisses in between classes, having lunch together, driving there and back in his car. I just wasn’t used to having to make actual plans to spend time with him. But since he was at the university most of the time, and I was working almost full time, I had to text my boyfriend in order to see him. It was horrible, really. 

I had been a little worried about Josh going off to college. I’d heard a lot of relationships didn’t make it through the transition. People changed, they grew apart, and before you knew it you were looking at an entirely different person, not the one you’d fallen in love with. But Josh was finishing up his first semester, and we were still going strong. He was changing, there was no doubt about that.  He was going to more than his fair share of parties, of course, but he was really taking the whole student thing seriously, becoming a responsible, self-motivating student. My goofball was turning into a goofman. But in all the ways it mattered, he was still my Josh: warm and loving, and so much fun to be with. I got the distinct impression his classmates had that same opinion, especially the female ones. I’d seen more than a few of them shooting some serious daggers my way when he took me to parties or just to hang out on campus. 

Josh was used to having plenty of women interested in him, and I’d gotten used to it as well. As far as I was concerned, they could look all they wanted- but I was the only one who got to touch. Josh made sure I knew he only had eyes for me. As nice as it was that he wanted me to feel secure, it felt pretty great to know I didn’t need the reassurance. It used to bother me when I saw other girls looking at Josh. I would ask myself if they were prettier than me, smarter than me, if they would put out for him. I would question whether or not I even deserved to be with a guy like Josh. But the first time we were sitting in the dorms with his college buddies and a woman with a short skirt and full lips walked past with a wink and a smile for Josh, I just felt… nothing. It was fine. I mean, I felt kind of bad for her. She was flirting with a guy who had his arm around someone else- she must not have much else going for her. There was no reason for me to be insecure because some girl thought Josh was hot and decided him being friendly meant he was into her. 

That was how I decided I was ready to have sex with Josh. You have no idea how good it felt to realize I was past that place of petty, immature jealousy. I was completely comfortable in our relationship. I loved him, I trusted him, and I couldn’t remember the last time I doubted if he felt the same. Maybe it was because we weren’t seeing each other as much- if we didn’t have faith in each other, our relationship would have imploded by now. However it happened, I was grateful for it, and I was ready to take the next step with him. 

I decided I was ready just as Josh was going into exam season- not stellar timing on my part. I didn’t want to distract him. I’d waited this long, a few more weeks wouldn’t kill me. Or so I thought. I didn’t know exactly what it was- it was like some kind of switch went off in my brain the moment I decided I wanted to have sex. Ever since then, everything Josh did was just so… hot. Not that he wasn’t hot before, but now I was getting turned on watching him eat chips by the handful. I found myself making full use of my graduation present. Josh liked to help out when I used it, but I got the feeling having him in the room would only make the problem worse. I was having a hard enough time not telling him to fuck me when we made out; I didn’t think I’d be able to stop myself if he was holding a vibrator to my clit. He always got hard when he did it… I could never do justice to how incredibly sexy it was to have Josh beside him, his hard on pressed into my thigh, while he worked the toy between my legs. 

Josh’s exams all fell in the first three weeks of the period, and they were the hardest three weeks of my life. Every time I went over to his place, he would be hunched over his desk, going over his notes. He was so damn sexy when he was concentrating. I just wanted to straddle his lap and beg him to take me right there on the desk. Josh definitely noticed something was up, but he didn’t push it further when I denied it; his exams were keeping him preoccupied. 

His last exam was scheduled for 9:00am this morning. I’d spent the last three hours waiting for him to call me to let me know he was finished. We had plans to go out for a celebratory lunch at Dairy Queen. Ice cream seemed like a bit of an odd choice, considering it was December, but it was Josh’s first pick. I’d seen how hard he’d been working the whole semester; he’d more than earned whatever lunch he wanted. 

My phone rang just before noon, and I picked it up embarrassingly fast. Or it would have been embarrassing if I had any problem with Josh knowing I’d been waiting by the phone all morning. 

“Hey! How’d it go?” I asked. 

“Pretty good! At least, I think so. I feel okay about it.”

“You’ve been studying all week,” I said. “I’m sure you did great.” I’d seen all the work he put into this. I couldn’t imagine that work would go unrewarded. 

“I dunno,” he said with a sigh.  “I’m just a little worried. Think I’m gonna go crazy waiting for the results.” 

I chewed my bottom lip. “You know… I think- it’s just, I have something to tell you… I think it might help your mind off things.” 

“What is it?” 

“I’ll tell you at lunch,” I said. This was really a face to face conversation. “Pick me up?” 

“I’ll be there in ten.”

*

Dairy Queen wasn’t as empty as I’d hoped it would be. Surprisingly, people craving terrible burgers and ice cream in the winter wasn’t that uncommon. Josh had been a bundle of nerves since he came to pick me up, no matter how much I tried to reassure him. It was getting me a little anxious too, to be honest. Josh wasn’t usually the worrying type. 

We ordered our food and found a table near the bay window. “Relax, babe,” I said, reaching over the table to take his hand. “It’s done, it’s out of the way; obsessing about it now isn’t gonna make it any better.” 

Josh sighed. “It just sucks… I know I could’ve done better if I had another hour,” he said. 

“Did you study?” 

“What?” Josh’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, you helped me.” 

“Did you answer all the questions?” 

“Yes, but-” 

“Then you did the best you could,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I quizzed you myself- you knew your shit.” 

“Being quizzed by my girlfriend in my room is different than taking an exam in a fucking lecture hall,” he said. “I know I left shit out.” 

“You can afford to leave a couple things out,” I said. “That doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail.” 

Josh groaned. “Why couldn’t it be a fucking scantron? Those take like two seconds to grade.” He sank down in his seat so he could lean his head against the chair back- no easy feat for a guy his size. His legs ended up on my side of the table. “This is fucking killing me. What did you wanna tell me? I could seriously use a distraction right now.” 

And just like that, all of Josh’s nerves slammed themselves right into my stomach. “Right… Uh, well-” 

“Here ya go!” A waitress who seemed far too perky for a fast food place put out food on the table. “Two mushroom swiss burgers, fries, and a chicken strip basket. Enjoy your meal!” She scampered back to the kitchen as Josh unwrapped the first of his burgers. The parchment was already covered in sauce, and my nose crinkled at the sight. Josh just laughed. 

“It’s better than it looks,” he said. 

“You say that every time.” 

“And it’s true every time.” He grinned. “If you’d give it a try, I think you’d like it.” 

I shook my head. “Chicken strips seem like a safer bet.” Why was this so easy? This completely unplanned conversation was effortless, but when I turned my attention back to the speech I’d spent the last month planning, I was tongue tied. 

Josh cocked his head to the side as he brought his milkshake to his lips. “You okay?” 

I managed a smile. “Yeah, I’m good,” I said. It was a struggle not to stare down at the basket, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t come across as a mature adult ready for sex if I couldn’t even meet his eye. I cleared my throat and took a breath. “I’ve been thinking-” Christ, my heart is pounding right now- “We’ve been dating for a long time-” My palms are sweaty. Is the rest of me sweaty? Can he see it?- “And I just feel so comfortable and safe with you now-” What if he doesn’t want to? Why the fuck would he not want to, idiot? You were dry humping last week- “I think we’re in a really strong place-” Does everybody get this nauseous when asking someone to take their virginity?- “And I’m ready. To, uh… to have sex. With you.” 

Josh was silent for way too long. It was probably only a couple of seconds, really, but it felt like fucking hours. I was trapped in Schrodinger’s box, simultaneously existing in a state of excitement and terror before Josh responded. 

He slowly put the milkshake back on the table. “Wow,” he said. Well. At least it was a word. That was better than complete silence. I resisted the urge to cry out my relief when he smiled. “I mean, I kinda figured we were going in that direction,” he said. “But still, that’s… big. Are you sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I said. “Or anyone. I know it’s taken me a while to get here, but I’m ready. I love you, and I trust you, and I’m so fucking horny, Josh; every time I look at you my vagina hits me with a rolled up newspaper and demands to know why I haven’t fucked you yet.” 

Josh laughed. “That’s an… interesting description. But I think it was a compliment, so thanks for that.” 

“It’s an accurate description,” I said, popping a fry into my mouth. “I don’t know how I lasted this long. I’ve never been this frustrated in my life.” 

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. That shouldn’t be turning me on as much as it was but that’s where we were now. “So, we gonna get a nice hotel? Cover the bed in rose petals, get a bottle of fancy champagne and chocolate covered strawberries?” 

“We could do that,” I said. “Or we could go back to your place and do it before your sisters get home.” 

Josh chuckled. “That doesn’t sound very romantic,” he said. 

“Yeah, but it means we get to have sex, like, now.”

“Don’t we have to talk about it first?” he asked. 

I shrugged. “We talk about it like every time we fool around,” I said. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what to expect.”

“I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable, you know? Losing your virginity is a major thing.” 

“It is,” I said. “But I took my time. I waited for the right person, I waited until I was ready, I waited until your exams were over.” I reached over and ran my hand up his forearm. “I’m done with waiting. I don’t need it to be some big romantic thing. It’ll be perfect, as long as it’s with you” 

*

After the big confession, it didn’t take either of us very long to finish our meals. It was safe to say we were both pretty eager to get back to his place. Beth and Hannah usually got home around 4:00 and we wanted as much time to ourselves as possible. 

We got to the house and made a beeline for Josh’s room. My hand hadn’t left his since we got out of the car. The butterflies in my stomach refused to leave, but I didn’t mind so much anymore. They were kind of fueling my excitement. 

Josh’s lips were on mine the second we stepped into his bedroom. By the time he kicked the door closed, his hands had firmly planted themselves on my ass. I tangled my fingers in his hair as we stumbled towards the bed. We lost our shoes and jackets on the journey there. 

We fell onto the bed and Josh maneuvered his way on top of me. I instinctively spread my legs and let him settle between them. I could feel his growing bulge against my core as his lips trailed down my neck. I ran my nails down his back, gripped the soft fabric of his t-shirt and tugged on it. Josh pulled away long enough to yank it off and toss it to the floor. His lips reattached themselves to my skin, this time my collarbone. He sucked light bruises onto the sensitive flesh and I hummed my appreciation. 

“Josh~” I moaned as he slid his hands up my shirt. I lifted my back off the bed and he undid my bra. His hands moved back around to my chest and palmed my breasts. His thumb rolled over my nipple and I arched my back onto his touch. 

I pushed him back and sat up so I could pull my shirt over my head. Josh looked like a starving man staring at a turkey dinner. His pupils were blown bigger than I’d ever seen them, and I was sure I looked just as desperate. 

His lips were beyond excited to explore the newly exposed skin. He took his time, making sure to give each boob the proper treatment, dividing the efforts of his hands and his mouth evenly. 

I felt my stomach flip when he started moving further down. He kissed along the waist of my pants, pausing to suck on each hip bone. He looked up at me with dark, devilish eyes.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he said as tugged the fabric down my legs. I kicked the pants off and leaned down to tug off my socks. My heart pounded as he spread my legs and laid down between them. He dragged his tongue over my panties, keeping eye contact as he did. I bit my lip and gripped the sheets in anticipation of what was about to happen. Josh grinned as he pulled my panties to the side. “Now, I know my tongue isn’t a Satisfyer, but I think you’re really gonna enjoy this.” 

My laugh turned into a gasp as his tongue delved between my folds. He spread my lips with his fingers and pressed his tongue into my entrance. We’d done our fair share of fooling around, but he’d never used his tongue before, just his fingers and the toy. As his tongue moved inside of me, his nose pressed against my clit. My hips bucked into his face, and he pressed one hand on my stomach to hold me still while he worked. His tongue slipped out of me and was quickly replaced by his middle finger as he licked up to my clit. 

I cried out when he curled his finger to hit my g-spot. His lips wrapped around my clit and he sucked on the sensitive bud. My hands flew to his head and gripped his hair. He slipped a second finger in as he swirled his tongue around my clit. There was just a little bit of burning as he added a third finger, but that was as far as the discomfort went. The pleasure of him massaging my walls as his tongue worked my clit far outweighed the pain. 

It was hard to believe it had been so long since Josh did this. Obviously he’d been keeping his skills sharp. I’d never been touched like this before- I didn’t even know what I needed, but Josh didn’t need any instruction. He kept going, three fingers fucking me while his mouth licked and sucked, until my back bent and I felt my soul leave my body. My fingers tightened in his hair; it had to be hurting him, but he didn’t let up. He refused to stop until I moved my palm to his forehead and pushed him away. 

Josh grinned and dipped his head down to kiss my stomach. “How was that?” he murmured. 

It took me a minute to register the question at all, then another minute to convince my mouth to move. “That was… that was fucking incredible.” I chuckled. My head was in the clouds as I fought to push off the post-orgasm bliss long enough to get my body working against. 

I pushed Josh off of me and very shakily crawled over to him. My hand drifted over to the bulge in his pants, which was now a full on tent. I ground my palm into his groin and Josh let out a low groan. I swear to god, that was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I pulled his jeans and his boxers down, and his erection leapt out at me. I must have seen him hard at least a dozen times by now, but there was something different about it now that I knew it would be inside of me soon. 

I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked his hot shaft. 

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said with a grin. “I’m pretty much ready to go over here.” 

“I know,” I said as I leaned down and licked his head. “I just wanna make you feel good.” I’d only sucked him off a couple of times, but I loved doing it. I was sure I wasn’t the best at it, but Josh was just so reactive. I loved feeling him squirm and hearing his groans as I took him into my mouth. The way he looked down at me with his mouth hanging open and his eyes clouded with pleasure… shit, even the thought of it sent shivers down my spine. I closed my lips around his tip and started bobbing my head, taking him just a little deeper with each movement. I still couldn’t take all of him without gagging, but I’d worked my way up to a little more than half. Josh pulled my hair into a ponytail to guide my mouth along his shaft. 

“God, I fucking love your mouth,” he groaned. 

I pulled back, stroking his cock leisurely as I said “I hope you love the rest of me too.” 

“You know I do,” he said. “But at the moment, your mouth’s the part of you I’m most focused on.” 

I sat up. “Really?” I asked. “There’s no part of me you might want just a little more?” I straddled his hips and ground my core against his cock. “Nothing at all?” 

Josh’s eyes rolled back as my wetness coated his shaft. His hand flew over to the bedside table, opened it, and groped around until he found the box of condoms. My hips continued to rock as he snatched one of the packets out of the box. They only stilled when Josh paused to scrutinize the back of the packet. 

“Did you forget how to put them on?” I asked, only half joking. 

Josh chuckled. “Just checking through expiry,” he said. “I’ve had these since we started dating.” He lifted the plastic square up triumphantly. “Still good!” 

“Woulda really sucked if it wasn’t,” I mused as he opened the packet and slid the condom onto his hard cock. “I mean, just imagine it. We’re here, I’m all ready to lose my virginity, and we get cockblocked by an expired condom.” 

“You know, as arousing as this conversation is-“ 

“Down to business, right.” I looked down at his covered cock and swallowed. This was it. I raised my hips up and positioned myself over his member. 

Josh grabbed my hips before I lowered myself down. “I just gotta ask one more time- are you sure about this?” 

I moved my hands up his forearms and nodded. “I am.” I kept my eyes locked on his as I sank onto his cock. His eyes widened and he let out a soft moan as my walls closed around him. I sucked in a breath at the feeling of him filling me completely. It was… different than I expected. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Not actual pain, at least, but there was this weird pressure right at my entrance. It was strange. I’d never been this full before. 

I was so wrapped up in the sensation, I didn’t realize it’d been a full minute since I moved until Josh squeezed my hip and asked “you okay?” 

I adjusted my position and let out an entirely involuntary noise as I felt him move inside of me. “Jesus…” I took a breath. “I’m good,” I said. “It just… takes some getting used to.” 

“Take your time,” he said, his fingers caressing my waist. 

I rested my hands on his stomach. “Am I supposed to, like, bounce or grind or what?” I asked with a breathy chuckle. Maybe I wasn’t as well prepared as I thought I was. 

“Just do whatever makes you feel good,” he said. 

I lifted my hips until just his tip remained inside of me, then sank back down on him. That was… interesting. There was a spark of pleasure. Nowhere near as big as when he was going down on me, but it was there, and it was helping me forget about the pain. I braced myself on my hands as I started to ride him. Josh’s head fell back onto the pillow and he moaned. That sound made whatever discomfort this caused more than worth it. Josh’s tip just brushed against my g-spot and I gasped. I pushed my hips forward, simultaneously pushing his cock against that sweet spot and grinding my clit against his groin. I repeated the motion and moaned “fuck, Josh~” 

“You’re so fucking tight, babe,” he groaned. “I don’t- shit- I’m not gonna last very long.” 

“That’s fine,” I mumbled. “Want you to come.” He’d already made me feel so good- I just wanted to return the favour. I’d made him wait our entire relationship to get to this; I wasn’t about to ask him to hold off his orgasm too. 

I moved my hands to either side of his shoulders and leaned over him. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer to him as my hips continued to roll. He leaned up to close the rest of the distance between us and captured my lips in a heated kiss. His hands clenched into tight fists and his hips bucked up into mine. He buried his cock fully inside of me and moaned against my lips. I broke the kiss so I could watch his expression melt into pure bliss as he came into the condom. 

Josh collapsed back onto the bed and I lowered myself onto his chest. We were both sweaty, sticky, and hot, but I didn’t give a second thought to rolling off of him and cooling down. He rubbed my back as his cock softened and slipped out of my body. 

“So…” Josh brushed my damp hair away from my face. “How do you feel?” 

I buried my face against his neck to hide my smile. “I’m, uh, I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“No regret?” Josh teased. “Not feeling like a part of you is missing? Like you’ve been forever changed?” 

“I think you’re overestimating the power of your dick,” I said. 

Josh gasped and clutched his chest. “I’m hurt,” he said. 

I laughed and nuzzled into him. “I bet I can find a way to make it up to you,” I said. 

“Mmm~” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m sure you can,” he murmured. “What time is it?” 

I glanced over at the clock. “Two,” I said. “We’ve got time.” 

“Good,” he said. “Don’t wanna move.” That was fine by me. I didn’t feel like getting dressed right away. I wanted to stay here with him as long as we could. Just like this, skin to skin. 

“Josh?” I asked 

“Mhm?” 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” he asked. 

“For everything,” I said. “For being so patient with me right from the start.” 

“I was just trying to be the kind of guy who deserves you; you don’t have to thank me-“ 

“No, I do.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows so I could look down at him. “You were amazing,” I said. “You are amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better guy. I wouldn’t have wanted this to happen with anyone else.” I ran my finger down his cheek. “I’m just… I’m so happy I’m with you.” 

Josh leaned up for a soft kiss. “Since we got together, all I’ve wanted to do is make you happy,” he whispered. “You mean the fucking world to me, Y/N. And I’m glad we waited. This was the right way to do this.” 

I rested my forehead against his. “I love you. So goddamn much.” 

“I love you too,” he replied. That big, goofy smile I loved so much painted on his face. “And I always will.” 

[haro-whumps]

Box Boy Pamphlet

(CW: slavery, brainwashing, kidnapping, creepy + intimate whumper, implied dubcon, codependent whumpee)

Tag list: @thatsthewhump @whump-it @ashintheairlikesnow @fairybean101 @finder-of-rings @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @that-one-thespian @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @raigash @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook @whumps-the-word @frnkieroismydaddy

Masterlist

Soren didn’t remember before. Not really. But, from the vague… feeling, he got, the strange sensation, he was pretty sure he didn’t want to. All his training said he didn’t want to; he’d signed his life away in exchange for comfort, which he’d received, so. It meant his life before was bad. There were other products who had railed and screamed and swore they’d never signed up for this, but Soren… Soren knew he had. 

But there was something else, too. When Ren held him he… remembered, he was pretty sure. Not actual memories, but just. A sense. 

When he was in their arms, he would smell their scent and his heart would swell with a strange and heavy melancholy. It hardly lasted longer than a moment, when it happened, but he couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t because of anything in living memory. He knew Ren, before. Some unsourced knowledge from his past informed him that scent held the most powerful memory of all the senses. And it was only ever when Soren was tucked up against Ren, his nose pressed into their shirt, that the strange and bittersweet heartache came to visit.

He pressed his nose into their shirt, curled around it like a child with a stuffed animal, and tried to force the “memory,” make the sensation happen on purpose.He never could, the shirt just smelled like Ren, kind, loving, perfect Ren, his Exalted, his everything. The smell made him feel warm and safe, not strangely sad. 

His life before was irrelevant. Ren had told him that, and he wanted to be good for them, wanted to obey them, in behavior and in thought. So he chased the warm-safe-home feeling that Ren’s scent gave him, shifting his grip on the cloth just a little. Before didn’t matter. The facility didn’t matter. All that mattered now was this. He was Ren’s, he was Soren, he was a pet, and he loved his owner. He freed his index and middle finger nearest his neck, the ring and pinky still twisted in the cloth, and hooked them around his collar, body relaxing into the simple comfort the collar always, always offered him.

“Angel, what are you doing?”

“I--” Soren yelped, startled, clutching the shirt to his chest. Obedient pets do not take from their masters. “I, um, I…”

“Pet, show me what you have,” Ren ordered a little more firmly, and Soren bowed his head and held out his hands, blushing hot. Ren took the shirt from him and he heard them snort.

“You get a sudden affection for gym clothes?” Ren was teasing him, their voice playful, and he jerked when they elbowed him in the ribs, sitting next to him.

“N-not, I, um,” Soren tried, unable to look his owner in the eye. “It smells like you…” he eventually mumbled out, shoulders hunched up to his ears. 

Ren laughed, a loud, happy sound, which made Soren’s heart flutter and his breathing go all funny for a second, and then they kissed him, then kissed him again, then pushed him down into the couch cushions with a third kiss.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Ren crooned, fingers shifting through Soren’s hair in a way that made him understand why those burning chemicals had been rubbed into his scalp in the facility, why Ren had insisted he use specialized products when he first arrived. It had all been for a purpose, to meet a glorious end. And now, now it was over, Soren had been good and done as he’d been told and he was reaping the rewards. Ren’s touch in his hair felt heavenly. Ren’s touch anywhere felt too good to be true, sating some deep, ever-thirsting need inside of Soren like only Ren could. “I’m right here, if you wanna put your nose against the real thing.”

Soren’s arms wrapped around Ren and he pressed his face to the crook of their neck, inhaling deeply and then sighing contentedly. Ren nudged his legs apart and settled in on top of him, and he squirmed happily because he liked this, too. He liked when they used him, and it always felt good. Didn’t even really feel like he was being used, if he was allowed to think like that.

Ren had never punished him, had always pet him and crooned at him and praised him, so he thought, maybe, he was. 

Ren had never, ever, ever hurt him. Ren had always been kind and giving and generous. Ren was the most wonderful, amazing person Soren had ever known, and would ever know. He was trained to do anything they wanted him to, but he wanted to do everything he could to make them happy. 

He sat on the balcony, out in the warm sun, wanting for nothing beyond the balustrade. Ren was so cautious with him, knowing that he was delicate, and they got him lotion that doubled as sunscreen, so he got tan and freckled but never burned. Never, as long as he remembered to rub the lotion over himself every day, like Ren had told him to. It protected his skin from the sun, which he needed, and knew that he needed because Ren had told him he was fragile (and he was, he was, he wanted to be handled carefully so, so badly). It made his skin soft and pleasant to touch, and Soren wanted Ren to like touching him. He loved it when they touched him.

Soren sat on the settee in his room and carefully painted his nails. He was getting good at this, almost professional--if he even knew what professional was. It had to be one of those memories from before, information he knew, but couldn’t source. That was fine, he didn’t need the source. He layered a lot of paint, and changed it up every couple of days, wanting to look pretty for his owner. He painted the bases alternating, glittering colors, and had glittering gold paint “dripping” down from the ends of his nails, streaking over the rainbow. He matched his toenails to it, though he changed those up less frequently. 

He was getting good at applying makeup. He wasn’t allowed to use foundation or powder--he’d learned that Ren really, really liked his freckles--but eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick were given to him in abundance, with a couple different eye shadows he was allowed to play with, and he had fun with that, too. 

As far as Soren knew or was concerned, his whole purpose--the reason he was born--was to look pretty and obey. And Ren was so easy to obey, it let Soren focus all of his effort into looking pretty. He applied the hair products Ren was so generous to buy him, he kept himself well fed and well-rested (which was a generosity in and of itself), he let himself soak in the perfumed water of the truly extravagant bath. 

The bath was a special place, for Soren. It was smaller than the other things Ren had given him. He loved the bed, it was so comfortable, but he had been kennel-trained for his box, so sometimes the wide mattress and extravagant room seemed so vast. The bath was smaller (still larger than his box, but) and cozier, and helped Soren feel secure.

He didn’t really have any reason to not feel secure. Ren took such good care of him, and nothing hurt here, and he didn’t ever have to worry about Ren sending him back to the facility, and even if he did feel nervous he could always just reach up and touch his collar to comfort himself. So he really didn’t have any reason to not feel secure. But sometimes he just felt small and timid and, well, fragile, as fragile as Ren so patiently and generously pointed out. The bath wasn’t small enough to really-really evoke the memories of his box, but it was about as close as he’d get.

He didn’t want to ask Ren if he could go into his actual box. He didn’t know if they’d even kept it. He might give them the wrong idea, like he missed the facility (he didn’t) or that he might be implying he wanted to leave (which he didn’t), and really, it would just be Soren being greedy, at that point, after everything else Ren had done for him, and he didn’t want to be greedy. He’d been trained not to be, but he also genuinely didn’t want to.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure where his training stopped and his own impulses started.

Sometimes he had to remind himself not to think about it.

He stretched daily, and went over his forms for dancing. It was… not the easiest, learning three different dance forms at once, but he had plenty of time to practice while Ren was at work, and the weekly classes made sure he kept up with it. He also carved time to practice harp daily, stumbling as he plucked out the chords and messed up note after note. That, he only practiced while Ren wasn’t home. He wouldn’t want to bother them with his faltering attempts.

Though he was getting better. A month into his harp lessons and a month plus a few weeks of dance, and he was showing marked improvement from when he started. 

It was also a little after a month since the photoshoot that Ren came bouncing home, one day, and pulled Soren in by the hair so hard that he yelped. But it was just because Ren was excited, so it didn’t count as actually hurting him.

“Soren, angel, look!” Ren said, nearly shouting, holding out a pamphlet. Soren was on its cover. It was a demure shot of him sitting posed on his settee, hair looking like actual, literal spun gold (that had to be edited, right? He never looked like that in mirrors), his eyes shyly downcast, sunlight bathing him and his surroundings in warm light. Across the top of the paper, “Why YOU should be a pet” was printed in scrawling, looping font, adding to the ethereal feeling.

“Open it up, read inside,” Ren urged, and Soren was glad that he’d been allowed to regain his reading privileges. He’d relearned how to read fast, like the only thing suppressing the memories of how was a flimsy soap bubble layer that popped with Ren’s permission. Soren opened it, and there was another photograph, the last one, the one Ren had taken with him, their lips pressed against his face, his smile all squinty-eyed and cheerful and Ren looking positively radiant. The pamphlet boasted the perks of being a pet, all of which Soren could attest to, and he noticed a couple of his quotes throughout the trisections. A few lines, he wasn’t quite sure if he had said them, or if they were sourced from other pets (there was a Box Babe splayed out on a bed with rose petals all around her, which made Soren feel...strange). Soren thoroughly examined the pamphlet, flipping it over to read the back, but his eyes kept returning to the first two pictures, the image of himself, actually looking like the angel Ren was always calling him, and the picture of them kissing him. He touched his fingers over that one, heart fluttering.

“You can keep that copy,” Ren said airily after they’d tired of watching Soren read over it. “I have one of my own. But oh, also, look at this,” they said, pulling out their phone. An online ad was pulled up, another picture of Soren, then Ren flipped tabs and there was another picture of Soren, this one with him on his bed, half-hidden and looking… enticing. Was that a weird thing to think about himself? The enticing one was an ad targeted towards pet owners, though, asking them if their pet looked like this. It made Soren blush. He was… he was being used to his owner’s benefit. Ren was the pinnacle of a good pet owner, and Soren was the proof.

It made him a little giddy.

“Aren’t you just so lovely?” Ren murmured, pulling up a third tab, an article with another picture of Soren halfway down. “These ads are running almost-globally. It’s Whumpee’s-R-Us’ primary campaign at the moment. Baby, your pretty face is a worldwide phenomenon!”

“O-Only thanks to you,” Soren said happily, sliding his hand over their belly to settle on their hip. He giggled, feeling brave and bold, and went up on tiptoe to press a kiss to their cheek, right on the corner of their lips. “All because of you, and how, you take such good care of me.”

Soren pressed up against them, telling them how he wanted to take care of them too, and the crick he got in his back from being bent over the kitchen counter wasn’t even worth mentioning. It felt good, to be a pampered pet, to be able to love his owner like how he loved Ren, to be useful and pretty.

It was three days after that the bad thing happened.

“Exalted?” he asked softly, waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of his door being unlocked. They never let him out into the house at night. His bed, bathroom, and balcony were his whole world until the sun was rising and Ren was ready to start their day. And the next morning would be Saturday, and Ren always slept in. And they never spent so long unlocking the door.

The person who entered wasn’t Ren. The people who entered behind her also weren’t Ren. None of them were Ren.

“Exalted!” Soren shouted, high, as loud as he could get, his voice cracking. He rushed back in his bed, his back hitting the wall with a loud thud, legs scrambling and kicking away the blankets in an attempt to gain purchase

“No, Soren, shush, we’re here to help,” one of the people said urgently, approaching fast, and Soren screamed. Where was Ren?! They always came when he had nightmares, always, why weren’t they coming now, when he was yelling? Was this another nightmare? Please, please let it be another nightmare, please, Soren did not want real hands to be gripping his wrists, did not want a real rag to be forced over his mouth and nose, a vile and chemical scent filling his head before everything went woozy and sideways.

He didn’t want to be waking up in someone’s car, which smelled like french fries and dog hair (Soren had never met a dog, that was knowledge from before). He immediately started crying, curling in tightly on himself, his eyes pinging with pressure and some sort of headache.

“Oh, hey,” said a voice, feminine and not, not cruel sounding. But Soren had interacted with Processors who only sounded nice, before. They used it to mock him. It stung worse, when they pretended to be kind. “Hey, he’s awake. Easy, buddy, it’s alright, we’ve got you.”

Calloused hands (baseball, his brain supplied, even though he had no way of knowing that) made him sit up, and he found himself in the backseat next to the woman who’d entered his room first. He pulled his knees up close, wedging himself against the car door, aware that he was only wearing his nightshirt. He couldn’t stop crying. He wasn’t trying particularly hard.

“P-please,” he begged, “please, stop, please, let me go home, I want to go home, why are you doing this, please!”

“Soren, Soren, calm down!” she urged. How did she know his name? “Do you remember us? At all?”

“No!” he cried, the sound raw and wet. He glanced out the car window. If he opened the door and jumped, he would almost definitely break something--he was fragile--so he had to shove down thoughts of escaping right then and there. He needed to go back to Ren. Why hadn’t they come? “What, what did you do to Ren?”

“We just knocked them out,” one of the men in the front seat said, turning so he could look at Soren. “They’re a psycho and a freak, but we weren’t actually gonna, like, do anything bad. We’re not terrible people.”

The implication that Ren was a terrible person, and calling them such awful names, made rage swell up in Soren. But he didn’t know how to process or express that, so he just let out another harsh, loud sob. 

“That, and they were our friend, once!” the woman said, giving the man a hard look. He snorted derisively. She turned back. “Look, Soren, I know everything is scary and confusing right now, but I promise, we’re here to help. When you went missing we all were freaking out, we never knew you’d been kidnapped and…” she gestured at him, and he hiccupped on a sob, “turned into this.”

“Seriously, if we knew that nutcase had you, we would’ve come sooner,” said the man, and Soren keened, fury he couldn’t translate swelling up in him again.

“Both of you, chill,” said the driver firmly, “He’s freaking out. Give him space. Soren, Lydia’s right: We’re here to help.”

“Help me get home then!” Soren said around his sobs, hard to get the words out. Hard to breathe.

“We are, believe it or not,” the driver said, pulling into a small wooded area, and parking shortly after. This wasn’t home. There was a weird metal door, surrounded by concrete. It was terrifying. It looked like something out of a scary movie.

Breathing became even harder.

“Soren,” Lydia said, “No screaming, okay, or we’re gonna have to knock you out again. Come inside with us, and we’ll get all of this explained and figured out. It’ll be okay.”

It most assuredly would not. Soren was going to be dragged down there and tortured. Or, worse, he was going to be taken in there and he’d never come back out, never allowed to go see Ren again.

“Nnnnooooo, no, please,” Soren begged, knowing he wouldn’t be listened to. The driver opened his door and his hands flew to his collar, desperately seeking some kind of comfort--

His collar was gone.

Breathing became impossible.

His collar was gone. His painted fingernails dug into bare skin, flying up and scratching down, searching his neck, like he somehow could have missed it, like it had shifted with the movement and he only needed to find it. No, no, no no no no no, please, no, no! His fingernails dug in hard, his breath coming out fast, too fast, but it didn’t matter, because his collar was gone, and Ren was far away, and he’d been stolen, and his collar was gone and that was the proof, the physical proof that Soren was owned, and kept, and cared for, and it was missing, and his fingernails hurt where they dug into himself, his blood seeping into the collar of his nightshirt, and he could hear the whispered shouts of the thieves, telling him to cut it out, their hands grabbing roughly at his wrists and dragging him out of the car. Another car pulled up next to the first, the rest of the band of thieves exiting that one.

Begging wasn’t working, of course it wouldn’t work, begging didn’t work on anyone except Ren, Ren, who took care of him, and indulged him, and was the only merciful person in the world. So Soren tried to run.

He didn’t get far, stumbling on an unseen branch, slicing open his right foot, and when those hands clamped down around him again, dragging him back, the rude man’s elbow caught him in the temple, making his world disoriented, pain lighting up his too-sensitive nerves like it hadn’t since before Ren. Hands clamped over his mouth, muffling his crying, his begging, and the metal door creaked open, the squeal of it as loud as Soren’s sobbing, and when he was dragged through, the soft skin of his heels catching on concrete, it boomed shut, locking him in, locking him from the outside world, from home, from Ren, leaving him with a group of strangers who would hurt him.

Next

[rocket-remmy]

Movie Magic|| Taylor and Remmy

Mirror, mirror, taped to the wall-- who the least human of them all?

CW: mild ablest language mention

The real question of the week was, how did you clean an apartment that felt as if the grime was an inherent part of decor? As if it were just part of the apartment itself. Remmy stood in the middle of the studio, looking from the derelict living room, with only a TV stand and fold up table next to the window, to their bed pushed all the way to the other side of the room next to the closet. They’d asked the front desk to borrow the vacuum and when they were handed a little hand vacuum, had exasperatedly run back up to the apartment and spent the next two hours kneeling on carpet as they vacuumed up as much as they could. It gave up almost ¾ of the way through the job, so Remmy had pushed the mattress over what hadn’t been vacuumed. That still left the fact that Remmy didn’t have a couch. There were two fold up lawn chairs at what was supposed to pass as a dining table, but Remmy didn’t see those as being too comfortable for prolonged movie watching. Frowning, they decided to pile up the pillows and blankets against the wall and push the TV stand down so that it was at the foot of the bed. A good enough solution for now, but perhaps the idea of a couch should be added to their list of things to get. Remmy spent more time over at Blanche’s place than their own most days, but a couch was probably a good idea. But it would have to wait, because there was more cleaning to be done before Taylor got there.

When Remmy was satisfied enough with the cleanliness of the place, they glanced at the clock. Not too long now, but they reeked of the same must the apartment always seemed to have, so it was a quick shower and a quick change of clothes. They were just drying their hair, noticing how long it’d gotten-- perhaps they needed a haircut too, they couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten one-- when there was a knock at the door. Moose, from his perch on the bed, looked up, and Remmy stumbled out of the bathroom.

Remmy lived completely across town from Taylor, and she was very concerned with being late. She’d done her best to look good for this little movie night of theirs. Remmy was cute, and Taylor would be lying to herself if she claimed she didn’t want to impress them. She vainly knew it wouldn’t take much, if their kiss was anything to go by, but still. She’d opted for a tight black tank top, black jeans, topped off with a flannel for a splash of color. She’d freshly shaved the sides of her head and put on some aftershave on her neck, her version of perfume. All that, blowdrying her hair, doing her makeup, it had taken longer than she anticipated, and she showed up at Gallows End Estates fifteen minutes after they’d agreed on. Hopefully Remmy was okay with fashionably late. She climbed the stairs to their apartment number, not particularly bothered by the less than stellar exterior of the building. With a quick knock, she signaled her arrival and waited patiently, a bit of a knot forming in her stomach suddenly.

“Coming! Sorry!” they said, hurrying over and unlocking the door, throwing it open. A smile seemed to automatically pull itself onto Remmy’s face when they opened the door and Taylor was there. “You made it!” they blurted, then pressed their lips together in a thin line. “I mean-- of course you made! You said you would. It’s not like you wouldn’t. I didn’t think you wouldn’t show up! I don’t think you’re that kind of person! It was just, um--” God, Rem, shut up. Even Moose seemed embarrassed by their rambling already, sighing as he turned his head away to lay back down on the bed. “Sorry. I’ll um--” stepped out of the way and ushered Taylor to come inside. “It’s uh...not much! But it’s home. For now.” A pause. “I hope.”

The moment she laid eyes on Remmy, Taylor smiled to match theirs. “I sure did,” she echoed, her smile spreading even wider as Remmy rambled. They hadn’t changed a bit since that night. It was easy to forget what they were like in person when it was easier to censor words on the internet. Taylor liked it. Listening to their subconcious pouring out felt so unfiltered and raw, something Taylor could appreciate since she used that same technique sometimes to write her music. “I’d never stand you up, you don’t gotta worry about that,” Taylor reassured, walking in as Remmy stepped out of the way. They were right, the apartment really wasn’t much, but they’d tried their best. She could tell they’d cleaned, and just that made Taylor smile. “So what’s on the docket for movies? Got anything picked out?” 

Movies. That’s what Remmy had forgot! Idiot. “Oh, um--” they closed the door behind Taylor and redid the latch before scurrying over to the TV stand and throwing it open. “Let’s see uh...Blanche brought a bunch more over the other day. I know you said you like horror, I think there’s a few horror here….Or i’ve got this weird collection box that’s supposed to be all the hits from the past few years. Um...Date Movie?” Their breath caught immediately after saying the name. “Or uh-- something called Baby Driver? And um-- the newest Alien movie. I watched all the old ones when I was a kid, but I don’t really remember them much. Oh, she also brought me this collection of all five Final Destination movies. So really it’s um--” stopped, realized they’d talked almost without taking a breath or pause for two minutes. “S-sorry...I don’t um...have people over often.” Moose gave a huff, as if to further the point. Remmy looked over at Taylor from their spot crouched in front of the TV stand. “It’s uh...your pick.”

Taylor had forgotten to bring movies as well. She’d meant to, but she was already so late she’d left the stack she’d picked out on her kitchen counter. Luckily Remmy did have a bit of a selection. Nothing really stuck out to her until their final suggestion though. “I love the Final Destination movies! I hope you have snacks though. They weirdly always make me hungry. Marathon?” she suggested, still standing right inside the doorway. She was a bit nervous to approach Moose since last time. “I brought Moose a peace offering,” she said, reaching into her inside jacket pocket and pulling out the locally sourced bone she’d bought for him.

“Oh, um, yeah!” Remmy said, perking up as they pulled out the movie collection. “I’ve got plenty of snacks. Blanche stocked up my fridge last week and I haven’t even made a dent in most of the food yet.” They set the DVD down on the TV and padded over to the little minifridge in the wanna be kitchenette are and popped it open. They’re “pantry” was a metal shelf next to the window. “I’ve got like...chips. Popcorn! It’s microwave popcorn though, there’s no stove here. Um...soup? Some weird cheese crackers. Applesauce? Weird…” They glanced back over at Taylor, noticing her still standing in the doorway. “Oh, you can um-- come sit down or something? He’s fine. He’s just mad about the vacuum,” they said, coming over to her and holding out their hand for the bone. “You can give it to him! I-if you want.”

How much Remmy seemed to mention Blanche both warmed Taylor’s heart and, well, slightly worried her. They were a lot closer than Taylor thought. No wonder Remmy had freaked. But Blanche was taking care of Remmy too it seemed. Lending them movies, stocking their fridge. It was all very cute and domestic. “Can’t have a movie without popcorn, right?” Taylor commented, grinning over at them. They were so accommodating. So cute. Her nervous energy must have been written on her face though. “Are you sure? He didn’t like me much last time.” She tried to take Miles’ advice and not be so tense. Relax and try not to expect the worst. “Help me give it to him?” she suggested, holding the bone out for Remmy so they could both hand it to Moose.

“Oh, yeah!” Remmy said, their face lighting up. “Good idea! Maybe if he sees me helping you, he’ll be less worried.” They took the bone in one hand and motioned for Taylor to follow them over to Moose, who had been watching the whole scene from the bed, his head laying atop his big paws. He lifted his head when they got closer. “C’mere bud,” Remmy said, crouching, “want a treat?” He stayed on the bed for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to trust the new person in his house, before standing, too tempted by the smell of the fresh bone. Though his ears still pressed back, he tentatively took the bone from them, turned, and padded to a corner of the room, laying down to enjoy his new treat. “There! That went much better.”

Taylor smiled proudly as Moose took the bone and padded away. At least he hadn’t growled that time. “Still don’t think he likes me, but we’re getting there,” she said. “Right Moose?” But he was fat too busy picking at his bone to pay attention to her. So Taylor moved to climb on top of the bed, huddling herself in the little seating area made of pillows. “This is nice,” she said softly. Remmy had clearly made an effort, and Taylor appreciated it. “You’re a good host, Rem.” She bit her lip as she watched Remmy in the little kitchenette. “It okay if I call you that?”

“Oh, uh-- thanks! I um...tried. It’s hard to make this place um...look good,” Remmy said as they went back over to the kitchenette to gather snacks. Stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave and hit cook. “Oh, yeah! That’s-- that’s totally fine! I don’t mind. The guys in bootcamp all called me different things, so really I’m used to being called by whatever. Uh-- I have lemonade, ginger ale, or sweet tea to drink. Or water?” They looked back over at Taylor on the bed and felt that flush of warmth in their cheeks again, hiding it behind the fridge door.

“Sweet tea please,” Taylor requested, catching Remmy’s blush no matter how much they tried to hide it. “If it makes you feel any better my houseboat doesn’t look too hot right now. Gotta replace some floorboards and shit. Flooding left a lot of water damage.” She looked around, realizing that sounded like a backhanded compliment. “I’m serious though, this place looks great. I’m honored by your effort. You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, no,” Remmy said, reappearing from behind the fridge with two sweet teas and handing one over to Taylor. “I really did. I don’t think-- I don’t think I’ve cleaned since I moved in like two months ago. It needed it. Guess I just needed an excuse to make it look good.” A brief grin, before they cleared their throat and stumbled back to the TV. “So, uh...you really like these movies? I’ve never seen ‘em...what’re they about?” they asked, popping in the first disc and pushing play. Luckily, the TV they’d snagged had come with a built in DVD player. At least there was that.

Taylor graciously took the sweet tea and took a sip, watching Remmy closely. For being such an anxious open book, sometimes they were hard to read. She could feel the nervous energy wafting off of them. Or maybe that was just her own. “Yeah! It’s about someone having a vision of some horrible accident that kills them and a bunch of other people, and then they save some of the people when they freak out about the vision.” She grinned and lifted her finger, wagging it in front of her face. “But you can’t cheat death, and he comes to collect the lives he was robbed of.” She sat back again, patting the space on the bed beside her to urge them to join her. “It might sound like I just spoiled it, but they’ve all got the same formula. It’s the creative and gory kills we’re here for.”

Just be cool, Morgan had said, just be yourself! Remmy nodded, crawling over to the spot next to Taylor, settling next to her. Their face felt warmer again. “Oh that’s-- that’s a crazy concept for a movie! Sounds kinda scary.” They popped open the popcorn bag and held it over to Taylor. “It’s the super buttery kind, hope you like butter,” they chuckled, not noticing quite how hot the bag was. They didn’t really feel much anymore, physically. It left them craving to feel touch, of any kind. “Creative kills,” they said, “never thought I’d hear that as a sentence.” Another toothy grin, crooked on their face.

“It’s okay,” Taylor said, instinctively tucking her arm over Remmy’s shoulders. Not even trying to be smooth or anything. It just felt more comfortable. “I’ll protect you if it gets too scary,” she teased, plunging her hand into the popcorn bag. It was a bit too hot and she winced, but came out with a greasy handful anyway. “Oh I love butter. Best thing about the movies, really.” Taylor mirrored that cute little grin of Remmy’s, having to stop herself from kissing them. It was too much too early. She knew they were nervous, and the last thing she wanted was to make them feel used somehow. “I’ve been obsessed with gory movies ever since I was a kid. Always made me weirdly hungry too,” she admitted, shoveling her handful of popcorn in her mouth. “When I’d get too scared or weirded out by it though, I’d always just think about how the filmmakers pulled it off. Like what sort of effects and shit they had to use. When you imagine someone lying on the floor under a dude wearing a latex torso, pumping fake blood out of a tube, everything gets a lot less scary.”

Remmy felt their chest tighten again as Taylor hooked an arm around their shoulders. They’d craved human touch for so long, and now all they could do was sit stiffly. They remembered how nice it had felt to lay on Morgan’s shoulder, wrapped in her blanket burrito, why did this feel different? They eventually let themself lean into the touch, if only slightly. “I was never too bothered by gore, but I’m a sucker for jump scares. Don’t let me hold the popcorn, it’ll-it’ll go everywhere, probably,” they chuckled. Raised a brow, looking over at Taylor before back to the movie. A bunch of kids were crowding through an airport. “Really? Is that how they do it? I’ve never thought of things like that. Guess that’s why I’m a sucker at watching scary movies and stuff.”

Taylor could feel the stiffness in Remmy, and she rubbed her hand on their arm as she pulled them a bit closer to her. Even with all the anxious energy, they were a calming presence to Taylor. “Jump scares don’t bother me much. I like to be scared. Gives me a logical place to focus my anxiety. Like look, this thing on the screen, I’m supposed to be scared of it. Not of a conversation I had three years ago that suddenly popped into my head, you know?” She shrugged, turning her face slightly to get a better look at them. “Speaking or gore...which one was it?” She asked, looking down at Remmy’s body. She might as well rip the bandaid off. “Which arm?”

“I can get that,” Remmy said, choosing their words a little carefully. The doctor’s had said they would probably experience some form of anxiety once back at home, but they hadn’t told them what it would look or feel like. “I was taught mostly how to um-- focus my mind on small tasks, so that it didn’t start making anxious thoughts. So it’s kinda the same thing? They’d have us do like puzzles and word searches a lot at the halfway house.” Remmy froze when Taylor mentioned their arm. They stayed very still for a moment, before looking down at their hands in their lap. They didn’t wanna talk about it. They knew they probably needed to, but they really didn’t want to. Especially not with someone they might like. Like, like like. Remmy bit their lip. “Um...the-uh-- the right one.”

“That makes sense,” Taylor said. She was completely ignoring the movie now, focusing on Remmy. That was what putting on a cheesy movie was for though, right? So you could just talk over it and still have background noise. “I can see why jump scares would get to you though, with your PTSD.” She wanted to be sensitive about it, but she felt like tiptoeing around the right words would just sound condescending. “The biggest jump scares in these flicks are explosions, but we’ll keep it turned down.” She could feel Remmy stiffen under her grip, and she just gripped them tighter in return, holding them closer to her body. “What happened?” she asked gently. “I’m not gonna judge.”

“With the--” Remmy started, but stopped. All the doctor’s had said they would probably experience stress symptoms for a while after getting back, Remmy just figured that was what happened. And then it would get better. Like all wounds. That’s what Moose was for, right now. To help them heal. “Right. Yeah. It’s not so bad. It um-- should be fine. I think I’m just super gullible, is the main thing.” They somehow found talking about that easier than wrapping their head around telling Taylor about their missing arm. “Uh...we went down to the beach. To uh-- get pictures of the chest. But instead, a bunch of those um-- giant lobster things? Showed up and swarmed the beach and...we ran towards the shelter for safety, but they were getting close so I tried to like...hit one. And it--” they stopped suddenly, shaking their head. “It sounds insane. Even when i say it. Like, it happened to me, I was right there, and other people saw it but-- it’s just insane. Things like that don’t happen.”

Taylor hoped she hadn’t said something wrong, but the moment passed before she had a chance to clarify. Maybe being so blunt hadn’t been the right route to go. She was quiet as she listened to their story, nodding along, her mouth slowly dropping open as they went on. She’d heard of the giant lobster things, but she hadn’t actually seen one yet, surprisingly. “We? Who was you with?” she began, before shaking her head. That really wasn’t the most important question, but now she understood why they’d went back alone. As much as Taylor could chastise them for it, she probably would have done the same thing. “Well, things like that do happen, clearly.” Taylor picked up their right hand and brought the knuckles to her lips, giving them a soft kiss before lowering their hand and holding it in her own. “Like I said, I’ve seen some weird shit…” Her voice faded. Was she really ready to tell someone else?

“Oh, um...Blanche and Cece,” Remmy answered quietly. “Blanche said she was gonna go whether or not I was with her, so I kinda had to let her come...But I told her to stay by the car! And of course she didn’t! Cece was just happening by I guess. But they both jumped down to try and get me away from the lobsters, and we ran, and it--” they paused again, watching, entranced, as Taylor lifted their hand to brush her lips over their knuckles. Their head felt very light, suddenly. “I, um….before you….you should know I…” they looked at their hands interlocked. “I don’t think I’m human.”

She didn’t know who Cece was, but hearing that Blanche was with them at the time, it was all starting to make sense now. It sounded very Blanche to jump into action like that too. Taylor almost chuckled at the thought, but stifled herself. She noticed how Remmy’s voice completely cut off when she touched them, and it made her grin ever so slightly. But what they said next caused Taylor’s face to drop, and the gears in her mind to turn, slow and rusty feeling. “Can I be honest with you, Rem?” she whispered, nudging their chin to look her in the eye. “I don’t think I am either.”

Remmy felt like they were going to vibrate out of their skin with the silence hanging between them. Oh, god, they’d scared Taylor off, hadn’t they? She was going to get and leave and never talk to Remmy again. Because their arm had ripped off and regrown, and because they were too much to handle, and because they probably weren’t human, and-- “Wait,” they looked up when the words registered. I don’t think I am either. “You’re--” they didn’t really know what to say, so they said the first thing that came to mind. “Are you a bear?”

Taylor let out a huff of a laugh, brow furrowed at the question. “A bear? What? No!” Where had they even gotten that from? “This isn’t a joke,” Taylor snapped, but her voice softened just as quick as it had spiked. “Let me show you. Come here,” she said, climbing up out of the bed and tugging Remmy along with her toward the bathroom. Luckily, they had a mirror above the sink. Before Remmy entered, she held them at arms length in the doorway. “Promise you won’t be scared?” she asked, biting her lip. “Only one other person knows about this.”

“Oh, I--” Remmy started, “I wasn’t joking! I’m sorry if you thought-- I saw someone turn into a bear. They’re the only um-- non human I know.” They picked themself up after Taylor, following her towards the dinky little bathroom. Luckily they’d just recently taped a small vanity mirror up to the wall (poorly). “Oh, um, I-I promise. Why would I be scared? I mean-- I won’t be scared. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Taylor decided to leave the bear questions for another time, nodding as Remmy promised not to be scared. “Okay...okay…” She took a deep breath. Then again. She could still back out of this if she wanted to. It wasn’t too late. But before she could make that decision, she tugged Remmy into the bathroom, letting them get a full view of her reflection. While a normal looking Taylor stood next to them, in the reflection stood a scary visage. Sharp, pointed teeth, feathered face, fleshy but scaley skin, and large wings folded close to her body where her arms should be. “I’ve seen this in the mirror for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what it means, but it’s not normal.” Her lips were synced perfectly with the feathered reflection. “I used to think she was someone else. Like I was being haunted by a demon. But as time’s went on I...I think that is me.” She looked over to Remmy, nervous to see their reaction.

Remmy stayed still as Taylor gathered herself. Admitting something like this must’ve been hard. Remmy still hadn't 100% accepted that they weren’t human, but that lady Lydia online seemed to think so, and so did Morgan, and even Cece. It wasn’t normal to regrow an arm. Taylor tugged them inside and Remmy’s eyes met the creature in the mirror. Were they seeing that right? Was it a trick of the eye? No...Taylor’s mouth moved in tandem with the bird in the mirror. Someone on the TV was screaming about something, but Remmy just stared for a while. “So you’re a bird?” they finally said, turning to look at the human looking Taylor standing next to them. “That’s cool! I think? Is it cool? Is it weird that I said that? Can you like...turn into that bid? The person I met that was a bear was able to just...turn into it. It was weird and kinda scary but they seemed nice enough. And like, you’re nice and you’re not like..hurting me or anyone! And like, if magic and vampires and bear people exist, why not bird people? So it’s cool. Right?”

Remmy’s reaction hadn’t been at all what Taylor had expected. They were freaking out about regrowing an arm (admittedly weird) but was totally fine with Taylor’s reflection being a fucking bird monster? The logic didn’t add up in Taylor’s head. “Well, I haven’t turned into one yet. Besides, I’m scared of heights, so no flying for me!” She attempted to joke off her nervous energy. “You really think this is cool? This is terrifying, Rem. What am I?” She was trying not to be too dramatic, but she was prone to it by nature. This conversation wasn’t really about her, in the long run. She moved to sit down on the toilet lid, holding her head in her hands, only looking up when Remmy spoke again. “Magic and vampires? You’re joking, right?”

“O-Okay,” Remmy said, scratching the back of their head, suddenly nervous they’d upset Taylor. “M-maybe ‘cool’ isn’t exactly the right word but I’m-- I’m really not good with words. As I’m sure you’ve figured out. I just! I don’t think it’s like-- it’s not bad! I’ve found out a lot of really strange things exist in like the past two weeks and it’s a little exhausting and maybe it’s easier for me to just believe these things at face value? Like I just found out I can see ghosts now, and it’s like-- have I always been able to see them and not known? Or is this a new thing? Is it like...just here? Pretty sure I didn’t see any ghosts in Afghanistan. O-or Pakistan. Or at boot camp. Pretty sure I didn’t eat raw meat before, yet here we are! So, like-- if all that is possible, of course magic is. Plus I literally saw it happen right before my eyes, and yeah, maybe I was a little out of it at the time cause my arm was regrowing right before my eyes, but-- it happened! And I saw it! And, yes! Vampires! I’m being serious! They attacked Blanche! How else do you explain that chest on the beach making people cold without like...giving them hypothermia? I guess maybe it just makes sense to me. A-and maybe I don’t know what you are or what I am, but it’s not-- it’s not a bad thing, I don’t think! It’s confusing, don’t get me wrong, but it’s--” Remmy suddenly stopped. They realized they hadn’t taken a breath in that entire ramble. “S-sorry…” they said quietly, sinking to the floor in the doorway. “I ramble when I’m...nervous...I guess it’s a little more shocking than I thought, you being...your reflection….” they paused again, wordlessly reaching out and grabbing the razorblade sitting on the sink. They held out their hand. “Watch.” was all they said, before running the blade smoothly along their skin, cutting it wide open. But no blood spewed, no wincing, no pain. The skin fell back in place, seamlessly growing itself back together in just a few moments. “So...I’m kinda freak out about me, too.”

For a moment Taylor thought they were legitimately making fun of her. That the arm thing was all fake and she’d fallen for it and maybe they didn’t even see anything in the reflection. Maybe they were playing her for a goddamn fool. But she should have known better. Remmy probably didn’t even know how to intentionally hurt someone’s feelings. She let her face soften as they spoke, trying to take in the rambling they put forth. It was...a hell of a lot of information all at once. She felt her eyes going wide, almost feeling out of breath herself as they just kept going, and going, and going. “It’s okay,” she said softly as they sank to the ground. Before she could say anything else, they were cutting their skin and it...didn’t bleed? “What the fuck…?” she whispered as she watched it heal back up almost instantly. “That’s some Wolverine shit. Fuck.” So they hadn’t been lying about the arm, that was for sure. “Okay, yeah, I believe you that some weird shit is going on in this town. Weird people. And we’re just a couple of freaks.” She lifted her shirt and showed Remmy her belly button. Or lack thereof. Just a realistic looking tattoo. “I never had a belly button. My Dad said it was just a birth defect for whatever but…” she let her shirt drop again. “Goddamn, my head feels like it’s spinning, Rem. Can I have some water?”

“Freaks?” Remmy said, their face contorting. They didn’t like that word. They’d heard it a lot as a kid. Freak, couldn’t look people in the eyes. Freak, counting their steps, starting over if they got out of order. Freak, had to open and close their locker three times before taking anything out. Remmy shook their head vigorously. “We-we’re not freaks. Just different. Just...different.” Remmy’s eyes fell to the emptiness of Taylor’s stomach, save the tattoo. They’d never heard of people being born without belly buttons, but with everything else that they were finding out, it was the least weird. “Water. Right! I can...I can do that!” They scrambled up, feeling suddenly cramped in the small bathroom, that shaky feeling in their hands that they got when they heard a loud noise. Grabbed the water filter jug from the fridge and poured out two glasses, bringing one back to Taylor, staying a little outside the doorway this time, hands clutched around the glass. “So, um....some dude just got his head cut off on the TV. Should I pause it?”

Taylor thought she might have offended Remmy with her words, but she stayed silent. Different. That didn’t sound much better in her mind. But then again, the age old emo kid question, what was normal anyway? Definitely not all this. As Remmy scrambled to get water Taylor stayed put and just tried to gather herself. Process everything she’d just heard and seen into something coherent and digestible. It was a hard ask, for sure. When they returned, Taylor graciously took the glass and chugged it all down, not realizing how thirsty she’d been. She let out a small chuckle at their words and got up, setting her glass on the sink as she approached them, reaching up to brush some hair out of their eyes. “Whatever is up with us, whatever we are, we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Together.” She caressed their cheek as she smiled the smallest of smiles at them, unintentionally ignoring their question.

Remmy stayed still as Taylor stood up, fingers brushing their cheek again, kinda like that first night they’d met. They swallowed, a lump in their throat. “O-oh, you...you don’t have to um, worry about me. I’ll be fine! I’m more interested in um-- helping other people out, you know? Whatever is up with me, I-I’m sure it’ll work itself out,” they said quickly, not quite moving from their spot, but not quite responding to the touch yet. They gripped the water glass tightly, not even noticing the little crack their pressure was putting on the plastic. “Um-- I-I know I gave you a lot of stuff to um, process, so if you wanna like...just sit that’s cool. I’m cool with that. Or we can like, go for a walk. It’s not very um-- scenic around here. But there’s a hiking trail! Or i-if you just wanna go home, th-that’s okay, too! I don’t mind. I’d understand.”

Taylor was such a hypocrite sometimes. The same things that came from Remmy’s mouth she could hear herself saying. ‘Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine’. But hearing Remmy say it, touching their skin, she could practically feel how they thought of themself. It almost hurt. She’d always been able to relate to people in a deeper level than was probably normal, but she’d never felt such strong empathy for someone before. It was almost a little too intense. “Let’s uh, lets go for a walk,” she said, nodding and taking a step past them and out of the cramped bathroom. “I think I need some fresh air.

Had they said something wrong? Remmy watched Taylor step by them, noticing their eyes pool from a cool green to deep brown. That was weird. They were a familiar color, though, distracting Remmy a moment. Something about them felt...sad. “O-Okay…” they said, following after her. “Hold on.” They made their way over to the dresser next to the bed and grabbed Moose’s lead, bending down to put it on him. Their hands were almost shaking and they weren’t sure why. Stood back up, looking over at Taylor. “I….” they weren’t sure what they wanted to say, but they wanted to say something, “Sorry. Today was supposed to be...nice. Not...this…”

Taylor waited as Remmy got Moose ready to go, and once they were she pulled open the door and held it for them and Moose to pass. “It’s fine, Rem,” she said, her voice holding an edge of exasperation, but she quickly stifled it, swallowing it down before she spoke again. “It was nice, in its own weird way.” She watched as Remmy and Moose passed and shut the door behind them, following them outside. She caught up and laced her hand with Remmy’s free one that wasn’t holding Moose’s lead. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Remmy said, “No problem. I-I mean, why wouldn’t I? You haven’t done anything to make me not trust or believe you.” Maybe that was a naive way of looking at things, but Remmy wasn’t a skeptic. They trusted people at face value, they believed them because, to them, no one had a reason to lie. It had backfired on them quite a few times, but it wasn’t in them to not trust other people because of someone else’s faults. They squeezed Taylor’s hand. Moose was being awful good, not even a growl. “Hey, um-- have your eyes always done that? The uh, color changing thing?”

Taylor just grinned at their response. Of course. God, they were far too kind for their own good. It honestly worried Taylor a bit. One day someone would take advantage of them and their kindness if they weren’t careful. “What?” she asked, brows furrowed. “My eyes changed color?” She dug her phone out of her pocket with her free hand and looked at herself in it. The only way she could see her normal reflection. “What the fuck…?” she breathed. “My eyes are brown now? What the fuck?” She stopped in her tracks, just staring into her own eyes. They still looked like her own, but darker. Heavier. Full of something that didn’t belong to her. She looked over to Remmy. “You think this has something to do with...you know?”

They’d only just made it down the stairs and into the courtyard when Taylor slowed to a stop, pulling out her phone. Okay, so not normal. That was...kinda good to know. Remmy blinked, letting her parse it out herself, biting their bottom lip. “I mean, could be?” they said, “Here, lemme see,” they motioned for Taylor to turn towards them. “Maybe it’s just the lighting out here? O-or inside?” Or magic. Or whatever it was Taylor was. Remmy’s head was beginning to swim a little, too, as if something at the back of their mind was pushing to be free, to be remembered.

“No, they definitely changed color. Maybe they’re brown now because I’m full of shit,” Taylor attempted to joke, but a smile didn’t accompany her laugh, so it just sounded harsh and dry. “This is insane.” She was freaking out more about this than hearing about Remmy’s arm. She was honestly surprised by how calm she’d been about that. What did that say about her? “I think I...need to go home.” She reaches out and put a hand on Remmy’s shoulder. “It’s not you. I love spending time with you. We’ll watch those stupid movies properly someday. I think I’m just too spooked right now. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yeah, no-- i’ts--” Remmy started, stuttered, stopped. “Yeah, that’s-- I get it.” Of course Taylor wanted to deal with this alone. She didn’t need Remmy sticking their nose in and trying to help. “You, um-- me, too. I mean, spending time with you. I like...doing that. Like that, too.” Their eyes flitted up to Taylor’s, but that palpitation that rumbled in their chest whenever they made eye contact started up and they had to look down. They were so familiar, so warm, so...Moose’s cold nose pressed against their palm. “Right, yeah. Rain check! I’ll take a rain check on the movie night. I-I-I promise I won’t um-- watch them without you. See?” Lifted their hand, fingers crossed. “Promise.” They remembered, now, whose eyes were that color. That soft, creamy chocolate color. “I um-- I hope you-- feel better.” Moose whined.

Taylor could slightly feel Remmy’s sudden distress and she did her best to calm them, leaning forward and giving them a peck on the cheek. “You too, babe. Like I said, we’ll figure this out.” She leaned down to Moose, hesitant around first but trying to stay confident, giving him a quick pat on the head. His ears were back like always, but he didn’t growl. Progress. “Until next time,” she said, before making her way back to her truck. Once she climbed in, she leaned her head on the steering wheel, taking a few steadying breaths before pulling her phone back out again. She had to get a proper picture of this. But when she looked this time, her eyes were green again. “What the fuck….?”

“Until next time,” they repeated. Remmy stayed put for a long time after Taylor walked off. Moose stayed with them, whining quietly, pressing his nose against their hand, but they didn’t feel it anymore. Why had Taylor’s eyes done that? Was it because of Remmy? Or something else? Why had they turned that color? Remmy didn’t want more questions. They already had so much on their mind. But they liked Taylor. Maybe more than they’d even initially thought. Would her eyes always be that color with Remmy? They didn’t wanna be reminded of him every time they looked at her. Of Dario. Remmy blinked, eyes suddenly cloudy. Moose tugged on his lead, pulling them back towards the apartment. They followed, mindlessly. Stepped inside. Someone on the TV got hit by a falling building sign. Remmy slid to the floor and put their head in their hands, unmoving. The credits rolled.