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#it took me too many months than i care to admit to make this connection
moki-dokie · 2 years
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me:
*makes oc with very strong native and irish roots*
*becomes extremely attached to oc very quickly*
*starts projecting heavily onto oc*
me: why am i relating so damn much to this oc what is differ--ohhhhhhh wait i see *looks at my own very strong native and irish roots*
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fangswbenefits · 5 months
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getting this off my chest
I really, really love writing for this fandom.
I think I haven't felt like this in years.
Astarion is such an enticing vessel for my creativity and has rekindled my joy for writing and putting it out there.
Alas, imposter syndrome really gnaws at my nerves more often than I care to admit.
"But Ruby, you have so many people who like your work. Why do you doubt yourself?"
Because I grew up being told I was never enough. That I was the worst at what I did best, which back then was learning English and surrounding myself in the language, hence why I sought comfort in fanfiction.
My sister, whom I love dearly, is an English teacher. She would be so harsh on me, and I know she meant well. She really did. But it was so hard back then. I would come to her with creative writing in English and she would just roll her eyes and tell me I wasn't good enough.
Nowadays, she acknowledges that I am more proficient than her and more at ease with the language, and even tells my nephew to study English with me instead.
But back then, I needed someone to believe I could do better.
So, there is a part of me that is proud that I am able to deal with real-life fatigue by writing and finding enjoyment in this hobby. But a much darker part of me tells me I'm not worthy and that I simply got lucky.
The Arrangement means a lot to me. I tend to dive right into fandoms and start writing for the character that caught my eye.
But I couldn't do that for Astarion... I am still unsure why. For those of you who have been here from my Miguel O'Hara days or when I first started posting about Astarion, you'll know The Arrangement was the first thing I ever posted for him.
Took me 2 weeks to get the first chapter out because I kept thinking I couldn't find a voice for Astarion. One that felt like him. After all, I'm always a step behind because I am not a native speaker. There will always be that looming feeling that I can't convey this story properly.
Even if you now know me for my Astarion smut, that wasn't even the driving force of my love for him.
It took me 2 months to feel comfortable writing smut for him. Why? I don't even know.
But The Arrangement feels different.
I love writing it and I love taking my liberties with the plot.
It's my opportunity to fully showcase my love for him.
I know not everyone likes it. I know some of you have dropped it. Some of you will drop it. But some will walk along this path with me, and I can't stress enough how your feedback and love help keep these negative thoughts at bay.
It's an internal work, though. It is not your job to validate my writing skills. This is not what puts food on my table. I am not looking to be published. I am looking for an escape. And it's so frustrating when my mind tries to rob me of joy even when it comes to a hobby.
"If this is a hobby why does it matter what others think or if they like what you write? Just have fun. Write for yourself."
And I do write for myself, but I share my work because I am hopeful my words can make someone's day. I seek that connection I never had growing up. Perhaps it sounds silly, but it's what makes the most sense in my head.
The Arrangement should be my pride and joy even if not perfect (nothing ever is, I suppose). And I'm exhausted of not feeling proud of it. I'm tired of this vicious cycle of self-doubt.
Don't get me wrong. I love writing smut. I think that's what I'm best at (well, in my opinion). I love exploring Astarion this way, too, but...
I don't know where I'm going with this... if anyone has made it this far, thank you, and sorry for the word vomit...
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thatlovinfeelin · 1 year
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Where Do You Go? | six | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw
Your husband died in a training accident, unexpectedly. So what happens when you find yourself leaning on his best friend and wingman, Rooster Bradshaw?
This is it Ladies and Gents, the final Part of Where Do You Go? I can't say thank you enough for all of the love and support this series had received. There were a lot of moments where I was very unsure if I would be able to tell this story, but you lot where right here with so many messages of encouragement, even though you didn't know that I needed them. SO thank you thank you thank you.
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Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five
“Mommy?” You question as soon as she picks up the phone, “I did something and I’m not sure how to fix it.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s all going to be okay, just tell me what happened,” Her voice is so soft and steady it makes you cry even more. 
“I slept with someone, and I really liked it,” You admit, almost horrified that you’re saying it out loud. 
“Well…honey that’s a normal thing-”
“It was Rooster, Kurtis’ best friend,” You inform her, “And now he won’t return my texts or anything. I haven’t heard from him in two weeks. And I’m afraid I ruined everything.”
“Oh,” She said softly, “I see…well, maybe it isn’t as bad as you think.”
“Mommy, I think I started to have feelings for him,” You admit, feeling your stomach twist, “And I feel like I’m cheating on Kurtis because I have feelings for another man, his best friend nonetheless and I feel like it just makes me a horrible person.”
“Oh honey, you’re allowed to move on.Kurtis wouldn’t want you to be alone forever. Maybe he would be glad it’s Rooster, out of anyone else, because he’d know him well enough to know that he would take care of you.”
“He made Rooster promise to take care of me,” You informed her, “And I took advantage of how we were feeling, how vulnerable we both were. God, he’ll never forgive me.”
“Maybe he’s just as confused as you are, sweetheart,” She suggests, “Maybe he needs space to figure it out, just like you do.”
It was another week before you got the courage to try to call Rooster. It went right to voicemail, like he declined your call. It makes you cry, thinking that you lost him too. You beg for him to call you back in the voicemail and apologize for ruining everything.
He doesn’t answer your call, or your texts. You go as far as texting one of the other members of the squadron to make sure he’s okay, at the very least. You’re told that he’s fine, just busy with training and to let up on calling and texting all of the time.
You feel your heart drop a little. He really doesn’t want to talk to you, or even see you. One night ruined everything. You hated it, because it was an amazing night, you didn’t want to regret it. You were tried of regretting things. But if that one amazing night cost you Rooster, how could you not regret it?  
You try to go about your days as normal, working and coming home to an empty house. You even look at dogs, but none of them seem to speak to you. None of them felt right to you, like you didn’t have a connection with them. You feel broken again, like a giant piece of you is missing. 
In a way, a big part of you is missing. Because Rooster became a big part of your life, a very normal part. You got too used to him being around and being in your house. Too used to him always being there with you. Too used to him holding you at night. 
You’re back to having a mountain of pillows again to try to make the bed feel less empty. You went as far as ordering a weighted blanket to try to help. You were willing to try anything, as long as it meant you could sleep again. Because sleep was avoiding you once more. 
You’re in the middle of cleaning a week later when you realized your period was late. Well, even later than it had been in the last few months. Your stomach churned at the thought. There was a whole stockpile of pregnancy tests in the cabinet underneath your sink in the bathroom, but the thought of taking one now….you couldn’t.
You couldn’t possibly be pregnant from one single night with Rooster. The universe couldn’t be that cruel to you, surely. There had to be some other reason that you’re extra late, the stress maybe? The fact you haven’t been eating a lot? 
Your mind is spinning with possibilities. So many of them it makes you dizzy. Surely you aren’t pregnant though, it’s got to be a fluke, some sort of coincidence. 
Your front door opening makes you pause, your body shaking like a leaf. 
“Hey, it’s me,” Rooster calls from the entryway, “Can I come in?”
When you can’t bring yourself to respond you hear the sound of footsteps getting closer. Rooster takes in the way you look, white as a sheet, shaking in the middle of your living room. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that you’d seen a ghost. It worries him. 
He came here to apologize for being so distant and explain himself. He came here to put himself out here, lay everything out on the table. Strip himself bare and let you know how he really felt, but now all he can do is rush forward and wrap you in his arms.
Tears burst from your eyes before you can even catch up with what’s happening. He strokes your back, shushing you gently. You clutch onto him, needing him to keep you grounded. You’re terrified, absolutely terrified. How would he react to what you have to tell him? How would he react to knowing he could be a father?
“What’s wrong,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head, “Talk to me.”
“You left,” You sob, “My period is late.”
He tenses, “How late?”
“Late enough,” Is all you can manage in response.
He swallows thickly, “Have you taken a test?”
You shake your head. You couldn’t take one all alone. The thought of what the results could be….no way you could’ve handled that without anyone here with you. There wasn’t anyone you could call to sit with you either, there was only Rooster. And until this moment, he was awol. 
“Do you have any tests?” He questions, brows furrowed. 
You nod slowly. 
“Okay, c’mon, you need to take one. We can figure out what to do once we know,” He tells you softly, pulling you towards your bedroom. 
“I’m scared,” Your voice is so soft he almost doesn’t hear you, “Will you stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” He doesn’t know if you mean just for this moment, or forever, but either way, he didn’t want to leave you. 
His chest ached during the time he was away from you. He felt like he was missing a part of him. And the thought tore him up, because he felt like he was betraying his best friend. Kurtis made Rooster promise that he would look after you, not that he would fall in love with you. 
“How long do we have to wait?” He asks you softly, scared to speak any higher than a whisper. 
“A few minutes.”
He nods and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment, “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”
At some point he’s going to have to tell you that he received orders. That’s another reason why he stayed away, because he was going to leave and he didn’t know how to tell you. Just like he didn’t know how he was supposed to leave you behind. It wasn’t like he was staying close either, they were sending him all the way across the country. Back to Virginia Beach.
He wanted to ask you to come with him, and he would. If you were pregnant with his child, there was no way he would leave you behind. Even if the test was negative, he couldn’t stomach being so far away from you. It made him feel physically sick just to think about it. 
Your phone timer goes off a few minutes later. He holds you tightly as you flip over the test, brows knitted together as you struggle to read it. But there’s only one line, not two. Bradley almost lets out a sigh of relief, but your eyes are watering. 
“This is good,” You try to convince yourself, “We couldn’t- I-”
“It’s okay,” He assures you, kissing the top of your head. 
Because he feels the same way, both relieved and somehow disappointed. One day, maybe if you feel the same way, you could have a child together. He could imagine it, and for a moment he let’s himself see it. 
“I should be happy,” You try wiping at the tears, but more just keep coming, “Why aren’t I happy? Where have you been?”
“I needed time to think,” He admits, still holding you tightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It feels right, having you here. It shouldn’t, but it does,” You tell him, turning in his arms so you can hug him back.
“I know it does, I feel the same way. Felt like I was walking around without a limb,” He laughs softly, “It’s wrong, but it feels so right to be with you.”
“Then stay,” You say simply, “Stay with me, Rooster.”
He swallows, “I got orders, I’m being restationed.”
“What?” Your heart drops, he’s leaving you, “Where?”
“Virginia Beach. I leave in two weeks,” He answers, “They actually gave a good heads up.”
“Oh.”
“Come with me.”
You look up at him, eyes still wet, “You want me to come with you? Are you just saying that because I thought I was pregnant?”
“Baby, I was going to ask you before that,” He promises, “I want you with me. We can start over out there.”
“My life is here,” You blink. 
“You hate your job, you’re always complaining about it. Your family is on the East Coast,” He explains, “What do you have to keep you here?”
You almost say Kurtis. But then you think about it. You’ve been to his grave only a few times since the funeral. You hate the idea of him being there, in the cold ground. You’ve never been the type to sit and talk to a big slab of stone. Because in your mind, he isn’t there, he’s just everywhere. He’s in the rays of sun that peek through the clouds, and in the cool sea breeze, he’s in the flowers. He’s everywhere, and yet he’s nowhere. 
“Okay,” You breathe out. 
“Yeah?” He questions, bending down so he can look straight in your eyes, “Are you sure?”
“Do you even know where you’re going to live?” You question, a laugh somehow finding its way out. 
“My folks had a house not far from base,” He explains, “I’ve kept it up and rented it out for a couple of years to other military families. The last tenants just got restationed too, so it’s wide open and ready.”
“Your parents' house? Like where you grew up?” You ask, looking up at him. 
“Yeah,” He nods, “I was going to pack up a u-haul and drive it down next week.”
“You really want me to come with you?” You question again, trying to wrap your head around everything that’s happening. 
You went from thinking you were pregnant to suddenly agreeing to move across the country with your husband's best friend. Only, he’s more than that now. Because he means more to you now. He’s someone you’re falling in love with, and someone you never expected to love. It snuck up on you, slowly and steadily, until suddenly it’s all you could think about. 
Until all you wanted was to be held by him all day every day, and to talk to him and to kiss him. All you wanted was to be around him. The thought of him being all the way across the country from you made your chest hurt. You couldn’t imagine being that far away from him. You couldn’t say that you loved him out loud, it still felt too soon for something like that. But you did feel it, like a blanket wrapping around your heart. 
“Baby, I can’t imagine you being anywhere else,” He replies honestly, “I want you with me, everyday.” 
You lean up to kiss him. Softly, slowly, like you have all the time in the world. Because now you really felt like you did. If you were going to go with him, you’d have every single day to do this, for as long as you had him. 
“Okay,” You say again. 
“Yeah?”
You nod and kiss him once more, “Yeah. I’ll come with you. I want to come.”
Two weeks later you climbed the lush green hill towards the spot where Kurtis was buried. You were dressed in comfortable shorts and an old t-shirt that Rooster left behind before driving to Virginia. You take a deep breath and sit down, hand skimming the top of the tombstone.
“I’m not good at saying goodbye,” You sigh, “But I think you already know everything I’m going to say. I like to think that you’ve been keeping an eye on both of us. Maybe you gave him the push he needed to come back to me. Or gave me the push to admit how I felt about him. Either way, I blame all of this on you, Kurt. Playing matchmaker from the beyond.”
You take a deep breath and set flowers down, “I know it hasn’t even been a year yet. But he isn’t replacing you. No one could ever do that. You were my soulmate, I firmly believe that. But I’m not the same person I was when we got married, losing you changed me. It changed him too, and I think it changed us so much that we fit together now. I love him, Kurtis, and I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened.”
You wipe at a few stray tears. You never planned on saying goodbye to him twice. This time feels like closing the chapter on the two of you. A very final goodbye. Your chest felt tight, you wished Rooster was here with you, instead of waiting for you to make the drive across the country in his Bronco. You sold your car last week, with plans to buy something a little better once you got settled in Virginia. 
“I hope you’re happy wherever you are. I wish you were still here…I miss you every day. I’m not trying to replace you, because no one ever could. But I also can’t be alone forever, and I think you understand that. I certainly hope so. I leave for Virginia today. Rooster is letting me drive the Bronco, can you believe that? He didn’t even seem worried when he handed me the keys. I remember you used to joke that you’d know he really loved someone when he let them drive that thing….so, I guess that means he must love me too.”
You take a deep breath and stand up, “Thank you for being my first love, Kurt. I’m sorry you weren’t my last, I wish you could have been. You know I’ll never forget you, and I’ll always love you. But this isn’t home for me anymore, so I have to go.”
You lean down to kiss the tombstone, “Goodbye Kurt, I’ll love you forever.”
You’re in the Bronco, ready to start the vehicle when you pull out your phone and call Rooster. He picks up on the second ring, his voice putting you at ease almost instantly. You relax into the seat, smelling him all around you. 
“Are you on your way?” He questioned. 
“Leaving now,” You tell him, “I’ll call you at every stop, I promise.”
“I’ll be waiting here for you,” His voice sounds so happy, you can almost picture him smiling in the middle of the living room, “I can’t wait for you to get here.”
“Just a couple of days,” You remind him, “And then I’m all yours.”
“Do you have everything?” He asks again, for the millionth time today. 
“I triple checked,” You promise, “I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you,” He says quickly, without even thinking. 
The admission makes you smile. You said it for the first time before he left, unable to stop yourself. You were afraid something might happen to him on his drive and you needed him to know it, just in case. He smiled and kissed you so hard you swore your lips might bruise, then he told you he loved you a million times. 
“I love you,” You laugh, turning the keys in the ignition, “I’ll see you soon, Roos. Stay safe.”
“Drive safe, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you again,” He sighs, “Been too long already.”
You laugh and pull away from the curb, “Soon,” You promise, “I gotta go. I’ll call you later tonight. Fly safe.”
“Always,” He promises, “Just come on home to me, baby. Come on home.”
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dragonrider9905 · 2 months
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Midnight Snacks
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Summery: Dogma had a long day at work and comes home to a surprise.
Warnings: none, pure fluff
Celebration You Prompt List
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@eclec-tech Here you go!!!!!!! Thank you so so much for being my first ❤️First person to encourage me on my writing journey, first to invite me to Tumblr and first to request in my follower celebration!!! I really hope this one lives up to your hopes! Your idea was just so cute XD I hope I did it justice ;D
Dogma trudged his way through the streets back home.
It’d been a long day. 
Well, in truth, it’d been a long day for a long time. After the fall of the Republic with that fateful ‘Order 66’ (which he really didn’t know what that was all about) Dogma took the first opportunity to escape the prisons, which were in chaos. He’d struck out on high alert and extreme secrecy for who knows how long, living hand to mouth and always looking over his shoulder. Little by little, the paranoia dissipated and life turned into a day by day experience. Apparently the Empire was too busy to hunt him down (which was fine by him). They were too busy looking for other high value targets (which he had to admit, he didn’t know who or what they were. He didn’t get a whole lot of information in his cell on Coruscant). He’d rather be safe than sorry so a low profile he kept, but he also decided to live a little of a life. He’d get a job, make some money and live like a normal person doing…what normal people do. Whatever that was. 
Monotony of time went on; Dogma got steady work and a steady life. Rarely anything fell out of place, just like how he liked it. He liked as few disruptions as possible. He knew everything that was going to happen. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. Order was the order of the day...that was, until he met you. 
You were the craziest, funnest person on the planet (and he’s got to admit that’s what made him attracted to you. Like, how in the galaxy did you have such a carefree spirit? Live from moment to moment without anxiety for the future. Always ready for an adventure. Believe that everything would be ok, and it always was. Blew him away). 
Dogma always liked understanding everything, and nothing scared him more than when his heart started beating abnormally around you. The queasy feeling in his gut whenever you’d do something around him. The blush whenever you’d tease him. The irrevocable smile that’d show up on his lips whenever you laughed. Dogma didn’t understand any of it! 
Ok, he retracted his earlier statement; he realized he was never more scared than when he connected the dots: he was in love with you. 
Falling in love was easy. Staying in love was the hard part. 
His shifts at the factory were long and hard. 12 hours a day, zero breaks, four days a week. The bits in between were yours. How do you keep love alive on that? 
Turning left at the corner and sighing into the night, slightly chilled with the season and a hint of rain in the air, Dogma felt almost giddy. It’d been three months since he told you how he felt. Three months since you told him you felt the same way. Three months of bliss, and extreme exhaustion. Before his shifts or after, he’d head to your place to spend time with you. It was a solid thirty minutes (if not more) on a good day from his apartment to the factory adding so much extra time to his day he wondered every night coming home if he should quit. 
He was a reasonable man too though. Jobs were hard to come by. If he quit, he’d need a plan. And he couldn’t quit now, there were too many bills to take care of. Plus if he wanted a future with you… 
But, how long would this last on the scraps you gave each other? 
He sighed, almost defeatedly. 
The contradictory swirl of emotions had him climbing on top of the highest mountains of Aldaraan and tumbling far below into the depths of the oceans of Kamino. 
He decided to head straight home today. The lack of sleep was really playing a number on his mind. He’d commed you before with no answer on your end. He hoped that you’d understand. That you weren’t upset with him. It was always hard for him to tell. He wasn’t the best when it came to reading emotions and even then, since his…mistake on Umbara, a gaping hole of self doubt was left in its wake. 
Sighing for the up-teenth time, he finally turned onto his street.  Reached his door and pulled out his keys…to notice the light was on.
He was pretty sure he’d turned off all his lights when he left? Perhaps his habit just slipped. Doing things for so long he’d forget even doing them. 
Stepping his apartment, he dropped his stuff to the floor, and sighed again. Home at last.
“There you are!” 
Dogma screeched and nearly jumped out of his skin.
The sound of your bright, bubbly voice was the last thing he expected to hear. Looking at you with wide, surprised eyes, you laughed and ran into his arms, embracing him with a hum. 
“Now you shut that trap of yours and move it! I’ve got everything ready for you!” Forcibly lifting his jaw back into place, you pushed him further into his apartment. 
“What…?” 
Had he gone to your place by accident? No…those were his books, his carefully stored few belongings…
“When I got your comm, I could almost hear how tired you were. I figured since you’d been coming by me every day, I’d surprise you and throw you a welcome home party! Whatda think?!”
“The place is empty.”
“Exactly! You’re kind of party.”
Dogma chuckled. You weren’t wrong. 
“It’s great, thank you.”
“Oh I’m just getting started. First, it’s snacks in the kitchen, then it’s holovids, then a good night's rest for your off day tomorrow!” 
You waved your hand to the couch where you haphazardly threw pillows and blankets onto the floor. Pillows and blankets he knew were not his. 
“You brought your stuff over here?” Dogma knew you were particular about your comfort items. You liked them clean and in place in your own apartment. They never left their spots. 
“Yeah! I figured we could make a blanket fort! I know you don’t have many of your own yet.”
“I, uh, I—” 
“Oh stop babbling and let’s eat! I know you’re starving!”
Bopping behind him and placing your palms on his back, you practically pushed him all the way into the kitchen. 
Sitting on the table was a vast variety of his favorite snacks all assembled in a neat array. 
“Oh wow…” Dogma was at a loss for words. You did all of this for him?
He turned to see your sparkling face and smiled. 
“Thank you for everything. I don’t deserve…”
“No talking like that! You deserve the galaxy, my dear.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he drew you in for a hug. Against his chest, he felt your smile. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, he broke away. 
“Should we move the snacks into the living room and get started on those holovids? Since you’re the absolute best, you get to pick.” Dogma picked up a platter of meats and cheese on it, moving to the small coffee table he had.
“But this is supposed to be your relaxation night…”
“Nah, whenever I’m with you I’m relaxed.” He paused with a look of realization crossing his face, along with a smile. “Well, mostly.”
You laughed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Raising an eyebrow you shook your head. 
“Ok, then.”
“Isn’t that show you like on tonight?” he asked. “I can turn that on…”
“But…”
“If you like it, I like it.”
You giggled. “Ok, sounds like a plan.”
“Also, I get to make fun of it if I want to.”
“Dogma!”
You laughed and threw a pillow at him, which he expertly deflected with a laugh. 
Settling down and wrapping blankets over your heads, Dogma started the show. 
“Aw shoot, I forgot the dip in the fridge.” You scrunched up your face, eyes glued to the screen. The action was only beginning. A slight look of disappointment crossed your face before you stated “I’ll be right back.”
“No you stay, I’ll grab it.” 
With a wink, Dogma jumped to his feet and ran to the fridge.
Opening the door, Dogma was struck in the face.
“What the kriff?!”
Running a hand down his face and refocusing, he didn’t see the dip he was looking for, instead he noticed a little, red dragon sitting on the shelf…laughing? Was it laughing at him?
“Why….is there a dragon in my fridge?”
“It was hot!”
“What kind of an explanation is that?” Dogma said more to himself than you.
 “Well I mean if he was hot.” He rolled his eyes. “What the kriff is he doing in my fridge though? Where’d he come from?”
You came running into the kitchen. “Isn’t he the cutest thing!!! I found him today roaming the streets. He’s a fire dragon! I’m going to bring him home and raise him and we’ll be best buddies.”
Dogma shook his head. You were crazy. 
But he loved that about you. 
Yeah, this love would stay alive for a long time. Who knew, even maybe the rest of his life.
Celebrating You Masterlist
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dilfs-bitch · 2 years
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Jake Lockley X Reader - Regret It
Summary : Jake regrets what he did, but realizes it’s too late.
Word account : 772
Tags : Metion of Layla, angst, cheating, break up.
A/n : I wrote this for Jake based on that song "Romantic Homicide" Not so good but I needed to write this drabble about him. I'll probably delete later, sorry if there any grammatical mistakes, English not and my first language and thanks for the followers.
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_________________________________
" Te extraño cariño "
" Cariño " it was so different to hear this word coming out of his mouth now, it was not like the other times you smiled and your heart was filled with joy every time he said it, now it seemed empty. Something so special has become a normal and bland word.
" Is too late and you know it "
" It’s not too late for us, mi vida I can do different " He held your hand looking right in your eyes.
You tried to remember any memory of someday he begging you for anything is all you found was memories of you begging him, there were so many times that you begged him not to disappear for so long, you begged more times than you would like to admit for him to show feel anything for you, were so many times that you begged him to love you.
About her? Layla didn’t even have to try, she never had to do anything to get his love. It hurt to see the way his eyes lit up the first time he saw her and even though your heart didn’t want to admit your head already knew.
It took some time for you to finally accept that the man you loved was in love with another woman. Each time he was kind, he faced more often, sometimes he’d fight with the other alters and all that because he wanted to be around her in a way he never wanted with you. There were so many nights that you stayed awake crying desperately to take that feeling away from you, the fucking sense of betrayal and to be used, only used that’s what you had been, used so he could take his frustration out on you in and out of the room.
That’s how it worked, he disappeared for days and weeks, sometimes even months, without any calls or text message and when he finally come back, frustrated for spending so many days out doing the hard job, and then he was yelling at you for ask a simple question that’s how end in sex until you woke up in the middle of the night and he was gone. It hurt so bad finally accept that you were just someone insignificant.
So you did what he did, disappeared for days, weeks and only six months later he started calling you desperately, texting you begging to know where you were, It seemed stupid to answer his messages but you did and told him where you was, there's a part of you that wanted to know what changed and you knew, Layla was gone, dealing with the three was too much that he came to you, as he always did. Cause he knew no matter what happened you’d be waiting for him, like you’ve always done since the day you met him.
" There never was us " You pushed your hand away from him, who frowned confused by your rejection.
" No me hagas esto Y/n " He took a deep breath pressing the tip of his nose, as he always did when he was frustrated.
He ran his hands in the face the panic growing bigger and bigger when you didn’t seem to care about anything he was saying, and his heart was pressed with the memory of you who used to beg him to love you and for the first time he found out how bad it was to beg for someone, and yet he was willing to beg to feel your love again.
" Voy a hacer las cosas diferentes cariño "
" You can’t. cause I killed you Jake and I don’t regret it" You swallowed dry trying to control the mixed emotions that grew inside you. " I’m tired of waiting for you"
" Ple-" He started.
" Don’t make me hate you more " Your looks connect for a fraction of a second before you get up and walk away without even looking back.
Your eyes as intense as ever, but this time had a small difference and maybe it was that, was the hatred you felt for him now, Jake rested his head against the palms closing his eyes, his chest gasping, he did not notice immediately until the tears were running down his face, vulnerability was never his thing but there he was trying at all costs to keep his walls even if they were already break down in the instant you got up and walked out that door. Jake felt so sorry for what he did, but he couldn’t do anything, it was too late when he finally realized he loved you.
------------
Translate:
Te extraño cariño - I miss you
No me hagas esto - Don't do this to me.
Voy a hacer las cosas diferentes - I’ll make things different
Cariño - Baby .
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pet-genius · 2 years
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The Death Eaters weren't all about the blood prejudice
And no, that's not the same as saying they weren't prejudiced. Of course they were.
Here's what I am saying: there's a narrative by which, Voldemort took over the wizarding world with the agenda of obliterating and excluding Muggle-borns, which had been foreign to most wizards and indeed forced on them by the tyrant. Indeed, that was his main thing.
I think a more plausible view is that he piggy-backed on that ideology that had already been mainstream, to gain influence and pursue his true ends - immortality, power, and control.
Evidence:
(1) Voldemort wanted to recruit Lily. This evidence is weak, I admit - but it already makes him less fanatical than Bellatrix (and probably Lucius too).
(2) Hagrid doesn't associate Voldemort's followers with blood purism even when explaining what the term "Mudblood" means.
(3) Voldemort himself says: “Haven’t I already told you that killing Mudbloods doesn’t matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been — you.” Funnily enough, there are very few Muggle-borns Voldemort's credited with killing. I can only think of Myrtle and Lily. He had killed Myrtle to prove his Slytherin connection, and he didn't even want to kill Lily. Voldemort's not an ideologue, he's an opportunist, and blood purism was a way to ingratiate himself to the Nobility of the Wizarding World.
(4) In the second war, Umbridge, a non-Death Eater, is the one who has most of the fun with the Muggle Born Registration Committee.
(5) Speaking of Umbridge, she is one of the most openly prejudiced characters in the series, and she moved up in the Ministry, ahead of Arthur Weasley, who was punished for not having proper Wizarding pride. This was after Voldemort fell. And the Minister they chose after the First War was Fudge, whom Dumbledore accused of caring too much about blood purity.
(6) When Rita Skeeter publishes her BS article about Hermione, Harry Potter's supporters send her hate mail that calls her a "Muggle," meaning people didn't immediately associate supporting Harry Potter with not being blood purists. For that purpose, people actually believed Harry was the one taking out all the Muggle-borns in COS.
Yes, we have Lily associating prejudice against people like her and the Death Eaters. We have Regulus who talked about ruling the Muggles and the Muggle-borns. But this proves only that the Death Eaters were willing to go further than others, not that they invented these ideas, never mind that both of them were privy to information (from Dumbledore and from their DE relatives, respectively) other people didn't have, including not necessarily accurate information intended to recruit them to the cause. As evidence goes, this is pretty weak.
Sirius says: "No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things. . . . They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though."
Doesn't it make sense to think that... some of what Voldemort was prepared to do to get power was to co-opt an ideology he didn't care about, while conveniently making exceptions for the odd Muggle-born he wanted on his side? Or the odd half-blood?
Voldemort rallies his supporters with talk of the true blood but the context is punishing Tonks and then Charity Burbage - so, again, he is using their existing beliefs to excite them.
This is not a tolerant and open-minded society. This is a prejudiced society with a psychopath taking advantage of preexisting fear and hate to pit people against one another, sow fear, and take over. Again, my thesis is not that the Death Eaters weren't blood purists. It's that they were maybe only a tad more purist than was considered mainstream, a shade less "hypocritical" about it. Well, Hypocrisy is a tribute that vice pays to virtue. Goes to show you there are worse things in the world than being a hypocrite. For example, being a raging violent maniac (but a sincere one).
I think it's one of the best, most interesting bits of writing in the series. I think we all know a prejudiced person or two who isn't as obsessively hateful as Bellatrix, but just... doesn't care enough. Just thinks there's probably something to both sides of the argument or some such. Who has nothing to gain from rocking the boat. Above all, picturing the Death Eaters as transparently evil people dead-set on ridding their society of Muggle-borns for no good reason and against people's general wishes just doesn't make much sense and frankly makes for a worse book. It's hard to picture how they ever became successful if they came out of the blue, frothing at the mouth about a group of people that had been contributing to Wizarding Society for generations, if this had been the case. This post, by yours truly, goes into detail about how I view the Death Eaters and Voldemort's Modus Operandi.
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fennthetalkingdog · 4 hours
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Heyo, so um... I wrote a really long thing. But because homophobia and transphobia is mentioned (not endorsed or condoned, but I used a couple of quotes so I don't know if that counts as being explicit about it?), here's your warning now!
You know, one of the biggest challenges of being trans, for me, is realizing that not everyone's out to get me. Granted, I was set up for failure from the beginning; both of my parents were (and still are) homophobic and transphobic, and though they wouldn't throw me out of the house or disown me for it, they heavily disapprove of it in general. And that was a traumatizing experience for me, as a kid that has such a close relationship with them that I tell them everything even now. To open up to the people I love the most and be told, "No you can't be trans," or to admit to both them and myself about a crush and be told, "But that's ungodly." And besides my brief experience with the general queer community, barely enough to realize that being queer and trans was a thing that you could be, that was my first main experience with being queer, and it set the tone for almost every other interaction between me and queerness for years. Every time it came up, I stiffened, preparing myself for someone to argue it didn't exist or that queer people were just maliciously tricking others for some reason or another, and even when my school friends and teachers accepted me immediately, I couldn't relax and was stuck thinking, "But when will everything go wrong??"
Cut to a few years after and you have me, in college, going by my chosen name on literally everything that's not legal and (a lot of times) openly telling folks my pronouns. But it's taken a lot of character development to even get here. It took me a month going to early college and being completely away from my parents to realize that people actually won't care too much and will just use your chosen name and whatever pronouns you ask for (even neopronouns, to some extent; though there will be a lot of stumbling and questions involved, people close to you will be willing to go through that even just for your comfort). It took me until literally a few months ago to fully come to terms with the fact that people automatically (and accidentally) misgendering you isn't malicious at all, and in fact they'll often feel kinda upset if you don't correct them. And also, you don't need to tell everyone your pronouns. (I've taken to not correcting people who I'm not especially close to, especially because even though I am a boy, none of my body is changed and I can't blame others for assuming. Plus some people find connection in a shared identity [like being the only two girls in a group], and I don't have to feel pressured to correct them and break [or at least somewhat fray] that. But other people have different boundaries and comfort levels.) It didn't take me long to get comfortable with being feminine once I realized I was trans, but it took me so much longer to realize that if you tell the people around you that you're a boy, they won't see you as a girl just because you dress or act more feminine one day versus another.
But for all this to happen, you need to tell people about your identity; be comfortable with answering questions about (almost) anything and everything, because people might be confused and it's best to approach that with an open mind rather than a closed and boobytrapped one. My wonderful college friends are a great example of that—they consistently call me a boy and make man jokes and call my hawaiian shirts dad shirts and call me a femboy on my feminine days. But months before now, I had to have a bunch of conversations with one about how I saw myself, my relationship with gender and sex, what body modifications were involved in my view of myself, and more. (Some of these conversations are more than you'd just give a plain friend, but I didn't mind getting a little personal so that was my boundary. Also there were many days when I felt myself getting reflexively defensive and I had to leave, think about the topic for a week or so, and come back with a calmer mind.) And even now I still give my friends feedback on what pronouns feel good, if how and when they use them feels nice (since I like having my pronouns mixed), etc. because I've had to teach myself that showing that I like something won't get me scorned or ridiculed. It's a very, very slow process and it involves learning just as much about yourself as it does telling that to other people, but let me tell you it's so rewarding.
Now, there are still times when people are legitimately homophobic/transphobic to me. Like, I haven't even come out to my parents yet, despite literally telling one of their sisters that I'm nonbinary, because I know that I likely will never be able to change their views and I don't want to put myself through that pain again. So when I hear them talk about queerness (which doesn't happen often, thank goodness, but still occasionally does), I still prepare myself for the worst. But part of my healing was restricting that response to just them and people who have already proven themselves to be queerphobic. I don't want to be a person that gives someone a bad experience with the queer community just because I'm defensive thanks to my own experiences, because though I can't control them, I would never want to be someone that, even unknowingly, causes someone else pain.
(And yes, a major factor in my ability to even come to this conclusion is the fact that I'm no longer constantly living with my parents. I waited 2 and a half years to finally not be under their roof, and during that time that was all I was doing: waiting. It's only been since I could leave that I could truly process everything and try to form thoughts on the matter because I'm no longer just trying to survive. So I'm not talking mainly to those people who are still waiting, but still, if you're stuck having to wait, don't feel bad that you can't grow. Sometimes all you can do is wait, and in the end, that's just as important.)
So yeah, that's the mindset that I've been trying to build over the past year or so of finally being free to be myself. And I'm trying to carry it on to other parts of my life (the autism/ADHD, the nonhumanity, the blackness) just because it's a happier and more productive way to spend my life than constantly being on the lookout for bigots and avoiding people who could just be ignorant. Because I can't control them, but I can control me, and I don't want a bigot to decide how happy I live my life even after they're gone.
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sequesteredschizo · 1 month
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cw // suicidal ideation & self harm 
thought too much about where I should post these words @ and where to do it if I did
Decided on here, both to challenge myself to be honest about how I'm doing and as a small private testament to myself, esp considering I can't guarantee I'll remember any of this later if I don't 
A few months ago I decided I was supposed to kill myself on April 26th 2024. I think something about doing that nullified certain anxieties of mine at times, for better and for worse. I thought the worst thing I could do that would ruin everyone I cared about was already going to happen, so I was able to loosen my grip somewhat on the people-pleasing and the social anxiety and the agoraphobia- maybe a sort of subconscious 'if something doesn't change, i will be dying. So I might as well try while I'm still around.' I've been callous and I've been unstable, but I also took risks (or, actions I that felt like risks to me) that landed me with more life-affirming results than I could have ever anticipated.
I sent texts I thought were annoying and stupid to people I wished I talked to more, I tried to eat like a well-adjusted adult person, I was honest with my dad about how hellish my disability was making my life for the first time. Etc etc. Anything to connect, anything to survive. I didn't care anymore. it felt like the end of the world. To everyone else it probably seemed like I was finally re-entering society, if anyone thought much of it at all (unlikely, imo.) At one point, I hurt myself worse than I ever had before, and without really meaning to, haven't done it since. It feels now like a microcosm of the bigger picture, just by coincidence. Doing better wasn't necessarily my intention, but it was a consequence of thinking I was fucking it all up one last time. Might as well throw all the chips in.
Last weekend I attended a wedding out-of-state for a relative I hadn't seen in years knowing id meet countless new faces and I didn't even freak out. And I was terrified, and I didn't want to go there and I didn't want to stay here but I did it anyways. Turns out I don't think I've ever felt so loved and welcomed and appreciated in my life. The people I reached out to on a whim, because what was the worst that could happen? Some of them actually respond back, fucking shocker. My dad is trying to stop pretending I don't exist. I'm a little less malnourished. So those are all good developments.
I feel like I reached up into an empty sky with the very last dregs of energy I had and by some miracle, just enough of the universe reached back. I don't and didnt want to scar and endanger my struggling loved ones because I couldn't be strong enough to deal with myself. It had to be my last option, after truly trying everything I could. I didn't even do much, and I didn't expect it to work. I didn't expect my favorite band to be dropping new shit on my due date. I didn't know that I would really honestly from the bottom of my heart not want to leave this fucked up horrible beautiful tragic world behind. 
I know there's always going to be a part of me that expects me to commit. it's always been easier for me to hurt myself than help myself. I've written a lot of suicide notes throughout my life. This is the first time I've ever done the opposite, I guess? This is supposed to be my promise to me that I want to live. I need to. Its really hard to admit that to myself. I'm pretty sure I can do it tho.
I think (and almost hope) that the handful of you who follow this stupid little blog wont read this, but I posted it here because theres too many people everywhere else. It's directed at myself anyway.
a distant yell into a cacophonous void, in hopes that typing it will act as a metaphysical vehicle for manifesting it in the collective subconscious:
TRANS PEOPLE DONT KILL YOURSELF!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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bernblogs · 1 year
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Nonfiction finally made me cry again: thoughts on Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton
May 22, 2023
I found myself crying today. For many different reasons--my birthday for this year is over, I am dealing with separation anxiety yet again, I am tired.
But for the most part, I cried because I finally finished Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton. I took me months to get through it, and I was ready to admit that it is just difficult for me to read nonfiction, until I saw the comments on it from this YouTube review. I guess it wasn't just me who found it hard to read. Like others, I didn't didn't think the first 1/3 was strong enough to be the first 1/3. I found it quite boring, and a little bratty (but I can forgive the bratty because really, there is lots of great nonfiction created because of brattiness). How will a woman develop as a character in a book if she isn't bratty after all? (That was a joke by the way.)
I found myself reeling waiting for it to be finished. But trust, it's worth getting through the high school stories from the first third. Trust me, it gets better when she gets a little older (which is also true for a lot of things and many people so I guess it's thematic?) The boring, bratty 1/3 was worth getting through to read the other 2/3 of the book. Actually, upon finishing it, I realized that I had to know the brat to know the writer deeply eventually. The brat becomes something more, flawed and young and irresponsible and damaged and a people-pleaser, and then you start rooting for her.
It was not always easy for me to understand Alderton's behavior. Most of the time, it seemed like she was just making it harder for herself. I wanted to hold her by the shoulders and shake her to knock some sense into her. But that's the whole point, isn't it? Even Alderton didn't really know why she did what she did. Until she saw her therapist and they dissected her psyche, and finally, we understood as well. We knew her when she started knowing herself.
Maybe I also ended up liking this book because I saw myself in her. In the Fleabag-esque way that girls say, "she's just like me for real". While I am not as reckless or as brash as her, our old actions come from a similar place: the constant need for validation. Dolly Alderton and I are both Mirrorball-adjacent, and because of this, I really ended up feeling for her. Dolly was and is not a terrible person in her nonfiction. In fact, she cared a lot. She was a good friend despite the hiccups. She held Farly when two of the most heartbreaking things that could happen to her did in a span of maybe two years. She was good to herself, eventually. She figured it out.
Her writing gripped me because she was brave enough to put everything in, even the things that were questionable (like the tantrums about her best friend being in a happy relationship, and sleeping with a guru who she never met but felt so connected to). Especially the things that were questionable. The pay-off was better because of what was questionable. And knowing that she liked being in control of what people thought of her, I bet it was harder than it seemed.
I was crying by the end because I was proud of her, because I found her prose funny and beautiful, because it gave me hope for myself, because I, too, wanted to learn everything (or most things) about love through female friendships. For the most part, I have. But I want more. I wanted more than what I was allowed with the people I treated as my closest friends for over a decade. I was crying because the people I remember when I see "we were girls together" all over the internet are not close to me now. I was crying because this book is the textbook definition of "we were girls together" and I didn't have that for myself anymore.
I was crying because I suddenly felt the desire to be a writer again, like Dolly Alderton. I wanted to be funny. I wanted people to read parts of me. I wanted to pick myself apart and understand better. I wanted people to know me. I wanted to look back on experiences and re-live them through writing.
I was crying because the longing for many things were so strong, and it hadn't been for quite a while. This is how I ended up with this new blog. I hope I get to keep it.
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heartlandians · 2 years
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Filling Empty Spaces (Amy/Mitch), part 191
Mitch and Amy find an unexpected connection due to absent lovers. Set around season 11->.
A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this story, so hopefully there won’t be too many grammar errors.
* * * *
Later that night, Amy was mucking out the stalls with Lyndy close-by, playing with her toys on top one of the square bales, when Jack walked into the barn. He was a rare sight there these days as he had vowed to take it easy after officially retiring. Occasionally he would come and ride Buddy, but Lisa had insisted that he would leave the heavier lifting to the younger generation, and with the support of Amy and Georgie, Jack had finally agreed with the terms.
When Amy walked toward the wheelbarrow, holding a stable fork, she slowed down when she noticed her grandfather. Suddenly the place she called her therapy office - as it was so calming to her - was filled with anxious air, coming from both her and Jack. They both knew that talking was inevitable.
“Hey”, Jack began, using giving attention to Buddy as an excuse to occupy the space. “How are you feeling?” he asked from Amy as he let his hand softly glide on the horse’s neck.
“I’m okay. How are you?” Amy asked, the conversation formal.
“Well, restless, I guess”, Jack admitted. “I feel like I should talk to you. One on one. Not on the dinner table while everyone’s staring at us. Especially Tim”, he continued, his tone annoyed but directed toward his ex-son-in-law.
Amy put the stable fork on the side and wiped the hairs that had escaped from her braid on top of her head using her forearm. She was a little bit sweaty and red from heat and figured maybe a small break could be a good thing at this point.
“Yeah...?”
“I’d like to explain myself a little. Not because I want to excuse my behavior, but more like... because I want you to understand”, Jack replied. “I know I’m hard person to please, especially when it comes to changes.”
“I know. And I get that changes aren’t easy. But they are inevitable”, Amy pointed out. “Life is a constant change, I know that now. I can’t deny it anymore.”
Jack nodded. “You’re right. I know it’s hard to believe, but I know it too. It’s just the... rest that is so hard for me.”
“Why?” Amy asked.
Jack looked at his horse, imagining the life the animal still had left to live. Who knew, maybe he had even more years than him. Tomorrow was not promised.
“I think it’s just life. How it’s been for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for everything I’ve had, but of course I have some regrets too”, Jack spoke, now looking at Amy. “These past months, I’ve really had to reflect my life more than ever.”
“There’s been a lot of changes”, Amy noted, making Jack nod.
“When Marion was born, Lyndy and I were over the moon. I couldn’t wait to teach her everything I knew. And for the longest time I was able to, but when it came to her teenage years, it was not easy. We drifted apart, and I think it’s just natural at that age. She was strong-willed, just like you and Lou are, and Lyndy encouraged that. I was sure she was going to be fine. And she was. The only time I was really worried about her was when Lyndy passed”, Jack shared.
Amy could recall that time, even though she was little. To her, mom had put on a brave face, but thinking back, that couldn’t have been easy for Marion. Knowing from her own experience, losing a mother on such young age was hard. Not that you were ever old enough for that...
“Lyndy was the nurturer and she took care of pretty much everything for us”, Jack recalled. “My part was to do my job well and bring in the bread, so to speak. Of course she had her music, but that wasn’t about making money for her, it was her passion. But we got by.”
One of the things Amy could remember her grandmother always telling her was “chase your dreams”, and she had tried to keep that in mind, even though some of her dreams scared her. But just as much as Heartland was Marion’s legacy, it was now Lyndy’s legacy too; Amy could have chosen to walk away from the ranch, but she had not. For her, doing what she did at Heartland was her dream. The dream Lyndy had always encouraged her to chase.
“When Lyndy passed... I felt like I had to step in for the both of us”, Jack went on. “What made it harder was that I had never really established that nurturer role with my daughter. So I really had to show up for Marion. I know she was already an adult, but... making decisions like marrying Tim didn’t exactly make me trust her judgment...” he continued, and even though he was dragging Tim - and partly Marion too - through the mud with his story, Jack trusted Amy to have enough maturity to recognize that even though things were okay now, it had not been easy back then.
Amy gave her a nod that let Jack know that she understood what he meant. 
“So... maybe I stepped into Lyndy’s shoes too much at that point. And because that was foreign not only for me but for Marion as well, she resisted it. We got along, but there were a lot of fights too. She didn’t like me meddling with her life, but in a way I felt like I owed it to Lyndy to look after her”, Jack explained. “And so when Marion passed, I hardly felt like I had accomplished that with her. Like I had barely been her parent. But on top of those regrets... when Marion died, I then had to look after you girls too. I did that willingly, even though I had no idea what I was doing. I had not really been a father to Marion, how was I supposed to be a father figure to you two?”
Slowly, Amy was starting to see where Jack was coming from.
“And so... I was at that point again where I had to choose what my “parenting style” was even though I was a grandparent, and usually they are somewhat removed from the parenting part”, Jack said, doing the quotation marks next to his head. He could almost hear Mallory’s voice going on and on about some book that could offer him some tips. “But I couldn’t be. I was the only one you had. So... I felt the pressure even more; not only was I doing the job of myself, but your grandmother’s, mother’s and father’s too. Whatever parenting style I thought I’d have in mind went out the window very quickly when the reality hit. I’ve tried my best, but I fully recognize that I have not always been the best.”
Amy nodded sympathetically. “Well, I’m sure it has not been easy for you.”
“It hasn’t”, Jack admitted, “but it’s not because of any of you. It’s just the fact that I’m an unfinished man. But now... moving out from Heartland, retiring and taking a step back, I feel the pressure to feel like I am finished. That I’ve completed my part. But in so many ways I feel like I haven’t. And that’s where it’s hard for me to accept all the things I didn’t do - or I didn’t do right.”
Amy walked closer when he saw Jack’s eyes well.
“If I’m being quiet or seem unsupportive, it’s not because of you. It has everything to do with me. I am proud of you. I am proud of Lou too. The only person I am not proud of is myself”, Jack said, letting out a heavy sigh. “There is no doubt in my mind that your mother and grandmother are watching over you and feel proud of you and everything you’ve been able to accomplish - and the things you will still accomplish. And that’s what I should be focusing on instead of this... ridiculous self-pity.”
Amy leaned forward to give her grandfather a hug. Usually it was the other way around - typically she was the one being comforted - but now it looked like Jack needed it more than she did.
“In some ways I wish I was Tim”, Jack said as he embraced Amy. “I wish I could just waltz in and stand behind you because I don’t have the burden of my regrets at the back of my mind every second because you and Lou have both forgiven him. His biggest regret, leaving you two, has been wiped clean. Where as I have so many little regrets. But... I don’t know if I will ever be forgiven that same way.”
“Grandpa... There’s nothing to apologize for”, Amy said, pressing her cheek against her grandfather’s shoulder. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy, but you still made sure we would know that you and Heartland would always be there for us.”
Jack gave Amy a soft squeeze. “I tried.”
“You did good”, Amy said.
They embraced each other in quiet for a while, before Jack continued.
“Another reason why I wish I was your father is because... he’ll be here for much longer than I will. He will see the success you’ll both achieve in your lifetimes.”
“You never know that”, Amy said, even though this wasn’t her favorite topic to cover. “I mean, I’m glad you’re both still here, and I hope you continue to be for years, but the shadow in dad’s brain proves that anything can happen. Even for him.”
“Well, thankfully he will still be here thanks to that surgery”, Jack said. “But then again, he is Teflon Tim...” he muttered.
Amy chuckled a little bit. “You two have come a long way...”
Jack nodded, admitting that. “We have.”
Amy was happy about it.
“One last thing...” the old man then said, leaning back and breaking the hug. “When it comes to your success, I guess I’m embarrassed.”
“For what?” Amy asked, looking back at him.
“The things you’ve been able to achieve, both you and Lou, it’s because you were skilled, driven and passionate about what you do”, he explained. “Sometimes when people are like that, they can be blind about the pitfalls. I’ve tried to protect you from them, but at the same time that has kept you from success. So it would almost be hypocritical of me to stand here and say how easy it is for me to be proud of you when I’ve been the one person standing in your way.”
Amy thought about it. “I’ve never seen it that way. I know you meant well, even though at the time it may have not come across that way and your intent was not clear to me.”
Jack nodded, feeling a little better upon realizing maybe he was not the monster in Amy’s mind that he was in his own. 
“Well, if I didn’t say it clearly enough - I am proud of you, Amy. I’m sure you’ll make this place the best it can be”, Jack said, looking around the barn, as if imagining how it would end up looking like. “I always thought it would just be a cattle ranch, but your mother saw it could be more than that. And now you... you can see even more potential in it, Amy. How could I not be proud.”
Amy smiled, feeling her heart getting lighter. 
“Thank you, Grandpa”, she said as she gave him a new hug.
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90363462 · 2 years
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So, Guess How Long (Many) Women Want Sex To Last?
A minute-man isn't that bad. It all depends on how many minutes we're talking about.
Shellie R. Warren
Nov. 11, 2021 05:39PM EST
OK, so when I sat down to write this, there were two songs that immediately came to mind — "Wanna Make Love to You All Night Long" by Lillo Thomas and "One Minute Man" by Missy Elliot (feat. Ludacris). If you're familiar with either one (preferably both), I'm sure you can get, from the title alone, why my memory was triggered by them. Because you know what? Due to my own sexual experience, the clients I work with, the random conversations that I've had and all of the reading and research that I do on the topic of sex, if there's one conclusion that I've confidently come to, it's that women don't a man who can physically have sex all night long nor do we want someone who lasts for only a couple of minutes. The ideal sex partner lands somewhere in between — and actually a lot closer to the "minute man" side than many would care to admit.
And just how much closer are we talking about? From a study that I read, you just might be surprised. Let's unpack this just a little bit further, shall we?
What’s Up with This “All Night Long” Ish?
Anyone who is a true R&B fan knows that there are literally countless songs that talk about having sex/making love all night long. Yet unless you've actually been with a partner who's attempted to make this happen, you'll never get how much something can sound great in theory and yet be annoying AF in real-time. While it might be TMI if any of you read my article "14 Lessons I've Learned From 14 Sex Partners", you already know that I kinda get down that way, so it's whatever. That said, one of those 14 is who introduced me to the revelation that some people really can go on forever…and ever…AND EVER. He wasn't small in size (check out "BDE: Please Let The 'It Needs To Be Huge' Myth Go"), he was freaky as all get out and pretty aggressive too. While when we first started having sex, it was like a true adventure, after a few months, it was more vaginally irritating and a bit like Chinese water torture, the sex version, if I'm to be completely honest. I think it was because he was so focused on going on forever that it stopped being all that pleasurable.
Hmph. Come to find out, ole' boy had a low-key cocaine habit that I didn't know about which connected the dots for all of those things. Oh, but he wasn't the only one who was like this. Another ex of mine would pull out and wait, go back in and rinse and repeat. After about an hour, I was ready to bring things to some sort of conclusion while he was acting like he had something to prove — in his mind, the longer things took, the more memorable, in the best way possible, he would be. 
Yeah, you've gotta watch those guys who may not bring drug (or heavy alcohol) influence into the bedroom but instead, they go with their ego — oftentimes, they aren't having sex with you at all; they are having sex at you so that they can tell themselves how good they were…regardless of what your opinion may be.
Does that mean that I am totally against all-night-long sex? Eh. I'm not much of a fan of the literal notion of that. Meaning, I don't think I would ever want to have sex, without stopping, for more than 60 minutes or so. Now, having sex, spooning for a catnap, going at it again, spooning for a few more hours, and going at it again — oh, I think there should be a holiday for that. But thinking that a man being able to go for a billion minutes plus tax is the sign of a good lover really needs to be left in the movies — and even those are only a couple of hours long. The bottom line here — it's not only unrealistic to want a man to go all night but, if we're really honest with ourselves, a lot of us don't like it when it comes even close to happening anyway. So, what exactly is the timeframe that brings us pleasure and joy? Good question.
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How Long Do Most of Us Actually Want Sex to Be?
I write about sex quite a bit on here, so while I can't recall exactly which articles, I know I've shared, on more than a few occasions, that when it comes to how long it takes a man to climax, he can do it in five minutes while it generally takes us around 20 minutes (including foreplay). Well, according to a study that was conducted last year, the time that we need has gotten down to something very specific. Apparently, what we need in order to reach a full-on orgasm are 13.41 minutes.
OK, but that's how long it takes to "see the mountain."Based on what a different study revealed, how long do most of us actually want sex to last? 25.51 minutes (do you agree?). Here is what's interesting about that, though. Another study that was published byThe Journal of Sexual Medicinestated that there is actually an ideal time for vaginal intercourse to transpire and it's shorter than both of the times that I just stated — between 7-13 minutes. Yep, according to the journal, we all should be able to get the job done (and feel all the better for it), in less time than it takes to watch half of an Insecure episode.
Is there anything that alters this conclusion? Sure. Things like the state of two people's health, what their personal preferences are and even the current state of their connection with one another could result in sex being much shorter or longer than — rounding off here — 10 minutes long. However, the bigger point (at least to me) is this kind of data is important because the belief that good sex — or a good sex partner — is someone who has to be the Energizer Bunny — you know, going on…and on…and on — is wrapped up in fallacy. Sex doesn't have to be long in order to be good. Not by a long shot.
Remember That It Should Always Be About Quality over Quantity
And this is why I think quickies should get more respect than they oftentimes do. If sex, for us, is typically preferred when it's between 7-13 minutes long, that means that morning sex, shower sex, and pulling stuff up and down when you've got a few minutes to spare in the kitchen or car— these things shouldn't be seen as sexual consolation prizes. In fact, after reading all of what I just said, there should be more reasons to treat them as top-tier activities because what all of this intel revealed, more than anything else, it's that more women are into quality sex than how much time someone takes in the bedroom (quantity).
In fact, dare I say, that the reason why those of us who want more time push for it, it's so that "he" will get more minutes (or hours…geez) to figure out what we need to get where we want things to go (if you catch my drift). Meaning, if he hits it right, we don't need an hour; we're actually extending an hour so that he can — and will.
Again, just so we're clear, I'm all about having more than one round in a night. All of these studies and what I've shared aren't talking about that. But that on…and on…AND ON one round of sex stuff? If a man says he's doing it for us, share with him this article because, according to the sourced data, something in that buttermilk ain't clean. We'd rather have 10 minutes of really good intercourse than an hour of subpar pounding. Words to live by. Lie down on too. #wink
For more love and relationships, sex, dating tips and tricks, and marriage advice, check out xoNecole's Sex & Love section here.
Featured image by Giphy
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missdbrill · 1 year
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03/04/2023
Life is tricky and complicated and fun and exhilerating all at once. March felt like a long difficult month all in all. I was so tied up in my relationship all month. It felt like we were yo-yoing so much. Well he was. And nothing felt safe and secure like it did before. I feel like I neglected everything else in my life so hyper focused on my relationship and it wasn't healthy at all.
We had a good weekend together just gone. Our first whole weekend since Feb I think and it was much needed. I feel much more connected to him again although he seems a complicated being at times. Saturday we went Whistable and he wasn't really himself. He seems to find the negative in every situation and I struggle with that. At one point I made a comment that he complained a lot and he kind of flipped out and reacted strongly. It was probably an overly harsh comment in the moment so I did take it back and apologise. But when he's off he really is off. Crossed the road twice without me. Didn't seek any closeness from me. I don't know. Maybe I read too much into these moments.
Because at the same time he had come to Whitstable with me the cold and wind. We then walked along the sea front a fair way and I was surprised he even wanted to. He put his arm round me and pulled me in and when he doed that it's just the most comforting thing in the world.
We went to dinner in the evening to Pizza Express and that was really lovely. Then got back to his just for him to fall alseep. And I know it sounds selfish but it's ao frustrating. I am so desperate for this time to connect. Then he finally wakes and we have the hard conversations. He admits he wasn't feeling 100% and it always makes sense in the end. I think I put far too much into my thought process that any negative emotion expressed by him is directly correlated to our relationship. It never is. There is so much more going on.
When I need him he always there for me. He is so kind and caring. Looking on amazon to order me a phone charger when I thought I didn't have mine. Buying more hot choc. Taking sweets on a trip. There are so many layers to this man.
On Sunday he took me to a local lake. He never makes a song and dance about yhese things but it always feels planned to make me feel special. Unless I'm just seeing what I want to see but I don't think so. He really cares. He told me how much he is steuggling with his work life. How he doesn't feel himself. How it's easier to be single when you feel in a funk which I get. But also that he loves me. Really loves me. And he worries it's not enough. I love this man so much and I understand him more than he knows. I just want him to find his happiness. I just can't figure out if he will find it without pushing me away.
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
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Wheels Up
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Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez
Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...
Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)
word count: 9.4K
a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.
To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.
He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.
And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.
“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”
But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.
It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.
He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…
“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.
He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”
“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”
“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.
“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”
“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”
“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”
“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”
“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”
“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”
“Of course.”
That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.
They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.
“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”
“Why?”
She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”
“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.
“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.
His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”
She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”
She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”
Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”
“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”
“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”
She nods, “I know, I get that.”
“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”
“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”
He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.
She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.
She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.
She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.
Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.
When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.
Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.
And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.
She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.
Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.
Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.
The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.
They were too cool for the feds.
“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”
“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.
She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.
“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”
“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”
“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”
Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.
“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”
“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.
“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.
She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.
“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”
She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.
“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”
“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”
She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”
“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”
She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”
“Which is?”
She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.
“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.
“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”
“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”
“When did you hear that?”
Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.
“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”
“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.
“So you do have a crush on me?”
“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”
“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”
Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.
“Y/N?”
She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”
He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”
She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.
It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.
“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”
“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”
She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”
“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”
“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”
“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.
“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away
“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.
“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”
Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”
She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”
“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”
“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”
“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.
He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.
“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.
“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.
“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”
He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”
She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”
“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”
“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.
“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”
“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”
He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.
He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”
“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.
He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”
“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”
“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”
“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”
“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.
She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.
The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.
He was everything to her.
And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.
Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.
She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.
She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.
She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.
He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”
“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”
“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.
“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”
“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”
“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”
She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”
“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”
“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”
He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”
“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”
He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”
She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”
He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”
She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”
“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”
“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.
“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”
“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.
It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.
She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”
“What?” He worries.
“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”
“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.
At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.
“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you get laid or something?”
Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”
“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”
“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”
“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,��� Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”
“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”
“Always—“
“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.
Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.
“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.
Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”
“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.
“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”
“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”
“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”
“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.
“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.
“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”
“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.
“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”
“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”
He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”
“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”
“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.
“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”
“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.
“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.
“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”
She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”
“It is,” Hotch agrees.
“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.
“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”
“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.
Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.
“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.
Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.
“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”
“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”
She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”
He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”
She laughs, “so be it.”
He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”
“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.
“Coward,” she teases.
He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.
She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”
“What do you want to know?”
“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”
“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.
“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.
“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”
“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”
“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”
“You love her,” Elle notices it.
He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”
“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”
She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.
He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”
“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”
“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.
“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.
“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.
Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”
“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.
“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.
“Excuse me?”
“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”
“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”
“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.
“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.
He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”
Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.
“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.
She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”
“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.
“Are you sure?”
She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”
She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.
“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”
She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”
“Necklaces are my favourite.”
“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.
He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”
She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”
“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”
“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.
“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”
“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.
Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.
“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”
“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.
“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”
“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”
Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”
“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.
“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.
“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”
Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”
“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.
“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.
The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.
“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.
She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”
“Oh…”
She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”
“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.
“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”
“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”
Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”
“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”
By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.
That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.
But then she found it.
A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.
“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.
They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”
“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.
“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.
“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.
“What?” Y/N asks.
“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.
Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”
“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”
She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”
“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.
“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.
“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”
They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”
“Okay?” Elle follows.
“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”
“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”
“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”
Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”
“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”
“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.
Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”
“Can I just have a hug real quick?”
“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”
She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”
“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.
“Kisses are helpful too?”
He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”
She hums, “10?”
He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.
“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.
She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”
“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”
She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”
Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”
“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”
He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“
They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”
“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.
Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.
His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.
“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”
Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”
“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.
“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.
“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”
“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.
“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”
“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”
“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.
“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”
“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”
“Alright, let’s get ready.”
Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.
And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.
She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.
“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.
“Yeah, what happened?”
“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.
She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.
He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”
She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”
“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.
One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”
“Thanks,” Spencer replies.
The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.
“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”
“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.
Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.
“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”
“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”
“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.
“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”
“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.
She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”
“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”
“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.
“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.
“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.
When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”
She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”
“He’s going with you?”
She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”
“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”
“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.
“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“me too,” he barely says.
He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?
She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.
She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.
“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”
“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”
She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”
He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”
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yourmidnightlover · 3 years
Text
never go back
Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.
TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*
WC: 3,724
A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.
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there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.
your boyfriend was not one of those things.
mostly because your boyfriend sucked.
it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.
he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.
there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.
any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.
he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.
when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.
and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.
after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.
you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.
it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.
it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.
because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.
even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.
spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.
now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.
but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.
he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.
hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.
but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.
he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  
and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.
but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.
spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.
so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.
"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"
"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.
"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.
"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.
"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.
if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.
"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."
"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.
there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.
"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.
"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.
"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.
"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."
"then do something," you demanded.
spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.
"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.
"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.
"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.
as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.
"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.
he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.
"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.
"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."
"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."
"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.
his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.
"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.
"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."
"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.
you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...
"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.
his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.
"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"
"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.
"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.
"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.
"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.
"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.
"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.
"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.
"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.
"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."
you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.
"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.
"sp-spence-"
"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.
"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.
"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"
"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.
"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.
"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.
"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"
"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"
"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"
that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.
"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."
"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"
"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.
"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.
"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.
"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."
"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.
this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.
"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"
"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.
driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.
*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*
you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.
he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.
you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.
"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."
he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.
after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.
"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."
you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.
"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.
"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."
"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"
"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.
"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.
"who is this asshole? what the hell-"
"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.
and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.
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tchallasbabymama · 3 years
Text
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.
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“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.
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“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.
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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,
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eliemo · 3 years
Text
Call Me When You're Sober
Summary: Remus tells Janus he loves him for the first time. Or at least...Janus thought he had.
TWs: alcohol usage in the beginning and talk about being drunk throughout, misunderstandings, hangovers
Notes: Human au, loosely based on a drawing from @underdog-arts their art is amazing go support their patreon.
Established romantic Demus/Dukeceit and background (very background) Prinxiety
“I’m not going to kiss you.”
Janus frowned, something that could probably be considered a pout with how out of it he was. He chased Remus’s mouth as the other man pulled away, one hand still carded through Janus’s hair.
His frown was definitely closer to a pout judging from the way Remus laughed out loud, eyes softening in a way anybody else rarely got to see, and Janus felt his cheeks flush even further. They’d been tinged with pink since his second drink (Remus hadn’t stopped pointing out the color in his face all night, adorably smitten by it) but at this point there was no way to blame his blush entirely on the alcohol.
“I’m not gonna kiss you, Jan,” Remus repeated, grinning insufferably when Janus slurred an illegible plea. “Not right now.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re drunk,” Remus said, moving his hands from Janus’s hair to keep him steady on the bar stool. “You won’t even remember any of this in the morning.”
“I will,” Janus protested, tongue slow and heavy in his mouth. “I always do.”
“Alright then, party animal.” Remus smirked, standing from the bar stool to drape one of Janus’s arms over his shoulder, helping him stagger to his feet. “Let’s get you home. Pat bought us an Uber.”
“But--”
“You can have a kiss when you’re sober,” Remus said, waving at a blurred shape Janus thought might be Patton. “Ok?”
Janus couldn't even make out his own reply, stumbling and leaning heavily against Remus’s side. He felt weightless, floating through the air, and it took him a moment to realize it was because Remus had picked him up and carried him out of the bar.
It felt like forever since he’d let himself get this drunk at a party before, and even longer since Remus had been the one sober enough to take care of things.
It was...nice. Really nice. Even if what rational thought he had left knew for a fact he would feel like shit tomorrow.
He was vaguely aware of Remus gently putting him in the backseat of a car and carefully following in after him, their hands loosely intertwined.
The driver said something before pulling away from the curb and driving off but Janus couldn’t make anything out, overcome by giddy exhaustion, and focused entirely on Remus.
He snorted when he caught Janus staring, and Janus knew he’d never get Remus to admit to blushing at the attention.
Janus leaned into the touch when Remus carefully framed his face, running his thumbs along his cheekbones, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
Nobody else got to see Remus like this, thoughtful and loving and gentle. It was rare, but Janus always felt honored in some way. Even if he was so drunk he could barely comprehend it.
Remus suddenly leaned closer to press a gentle kiss to Janus’s forehead, slow and careful, one hand still cupping his jaw. He pulled back, just barely lit up by the passing streetlights, gaze soft as he looked Janus over.
“I love you,” he said for the first time, and Janus’s heart soared. “And I know you won’t remember this tomorrow.”
His face was beginning to ache with how much he was grinning, replaying the words over and over again in his head despite the fog weighing him down. Janus fell into Remus’s chest and shut his eyes to the sound of the car’s engine, trusting Remus to get them home safe.
---
Janus unfortunately did remember the night before, blurred and distant as it was, and that last conversation with Remus was the only thing keeping Janus from swearing off alcohol for the rest of his life.
His head was pounding, the light filtering in from the window felt like someone was poking knives in his skull, and every time he tried to sit up every single bone in his body violently protested, stomach lurching dangerously.
But he couldn’t even be annoyed at any of that right now.
Remus had said he loved him for the first time last night, holding his face like the most precious thing in the world, and that was the only thing on Janus’s mind.
He’d known Remus loved him. Or at least, he’d assumed. Remus tended to show love every way except verbal. It had taken some getting used to, insecurities Janus refused to voice always making him doubt that Remus actually felt the same, despite them dating for months and being friends for longer.
But Remus had said it last night. Remus had kissed Janus’s forehead and looked at him with soft fondness and told him he loved him.
He loved Janus.
And he had assumed Janus would be too drunk to remember, which meant he got to mercilessly tease Remus for the rest of the day about it.
Janus forced himself out of bed, noting with a small smile the water bottle that had been left on the bedside table. He could hear some commotion from the other room, probably Remus looking for food in the kitchen.
He sipped at the water, untangled himself from the sheets and slowly stumbled to his dresser to get a change of clothes. As uncomfortable as sleeping in jeans was, he appreciated Remus not changing him into pajamas while he was passed out.
When he felt human enough to leave his bedroom, wrapped up in sweats and a flannel, Janus slipped out of his bedroom and padded down the hall where Remus was sprawled out on Janus’s couch with a half eaten poptart on the coffee table.
“You could have slept in the bed, you know.”
Remus grinned up at him, disheveled and probably a bit sore. “Yeah well, you smelled gross.”
Janus knew Remus would never admit he just hadn’t been sure he was allowed, if Janus would be comfortable with someone sleeping next to him without clear permission.
Remus had a brass sense of humor, he was forward and grossly affectionate in public, but he was always so careful with Janus. There were so many unspoken questions, silent searches for approval, and private check-ins.
“You’re cute,” Janus said, grinning when Remus stuck his tongue out. “Do I get my kiss now?”
Something unreadable flashed in Remus’s eyes, and Janus assumed it was the realization Janus hadn’t been drunk enough to completely forget the night before.
It was gone in an instant, and Remus pushed himself up off the couch to shuffle across the small room, gather Janus in his arms, pull him close and kiss him just like he’d wanted the night before.
Remus pulled away with a wink that made Janus scowl playfully, and made his way to the connected kitchen. “I can’t figure out how to work your coffee maker.”
“If you break anything else in my kitchen I’m killing you.” Remus had managed to break his old toaster when they’d first started dating, and Janus never planned on letting him live it down. “I’ll make you some.”
Remus jumped up on the counter, watching Janus refill the pitcher in the sink and grab the coffee grinds from the counter, eventually distracted by scrolling through his phone while the pot brewed.
“Hey,” Janus called when it was done, smirking when Remus hummed nonchalantly. “Did you tell me you loved me last night?”
Remus jumped and nearly dropped his phone, fumbling for a second before managing to put it down on the counter, hands ridiculously unsteady.
Janus expected the momentary surprise, but he didn’t expect Remus to bark out a panicked laugh and shake his head.
“What? No.” He scoffed, swinging his legs over the side of the counter. “I didn’t say that. Jeez how much did you drink, Jan?”
Oh.
He’d been ready for a bit of embarrassed denial, some teasing and flirting that had become normal between them. Last night had made Janus stupidly happy- happier than he remembered being in months- but Remus had jumped straight to denying it, like it was the most ridiculous thing in the entire world.
He suddenly felt cold, and a little bit like someone had shoved him to the floor. He quickly averted his gaze so Remus wouldn’t see how much that had hurt.
“Right,” he said, sliding Remus his mug of coffee. “Yeah, duh. Sorry. I was...super out of it.”
“It’s cool.”
Janus didn’t know what he was supposed to say now. There was a lump growing in his throat, something a little more crushing than simple disappointment weighing down on his chest.
“I’m...gonna make some food,” he said after a few seconds of unnatural silence. “We still have those frozen waffles, you want any?”
“Sure.”
Remus was being abnormally curt and dismissive, and Janus could practically see him searching for an excuse to escape the tense atmosphere that had never existed between them before.
“I, uh, have a change of clothes in my bag,” Remus said, waving a hand at the hallway. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”
Janus nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he went to rummage through the freezer to hopefully distract himself with making breakfast once Remus disappeared.
This wasn’t a big deal. He could blame his suddenly blurry vision on the hangover.
He’d...really thought he remembered last night. He could still feel Remus’s hands in his hair and that stupidly sweet smile on his lips when he refused to kiss him when he was drunk.
He remembered the pink blush on his nose when he’d said those three words, quiet like they were in their own little world that night. The scene had been replaying over and over in his head until he fell asleep, and had picked right back up when Janus had woken up.
It had felt so real. He’d thought...he’d thought it was real. He thought he’d finally be able to say it freely without worrying about moving too fast for Remus.
It was possible it could have all been a dream, but...
But Remus had answered so quickly. He’d been so adamant about how he hadn’t told Janus he loved him. Like he would never even consider doing such a thing.
Which...which was fine. Janus wasn’t going to hold Remus’s feelings against him, and he certainly wasn’t going to make a big deal about it.
He’d just been mistaken assuming he and Remus wanted the same kind of relationship. Janus loved Remus and Remus...didn’t. Janus wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, but he’d made his feelings on the matter pretty clear today.
Janus had just been too blind to realize it after months of spending nearly every waking moment together.
That was fine. It was a stupid misunderstanding. Janus wasn’t going to cry like a heartbroken idiot just because Remus didn’t love him back.
He hissed out a curse under his breath when almost immediately there were tears slipping down his cheeks, and Janus pressed a hand firmly to his mouth to muffle the sobs that tried to escape.
He was so stupid. It wasn’t like this was the first time this had happened, Janus figured he would have been able to see the signs by now. People just didn’t want him like that.
He’d just...really thought Remus was different.
He didn’t think he would ever laugh off the idea of loving Janus.
Janus wrapped his free arm around himself, swaying slightly in the middle of the kitchen as he stared blankly at the toaster, trying and failing to get himself to suck it up and stop crying.
He was being ridiculous- shaking with the force of trying to hold back his sobbing, blinded by endless tears gathering in his eyes and flowing down his cheeks- and he needed to get a hold of himself before-
“Woah, what the fuck?”
Janus jumped, refusing to look at Remus standing in the hallway as he quickly tried to wipe his tears away with the palms of his hands. “Do you want syrup?”
He heard Remus move closer and kept his head down, staring resolutely at the kitchen tiles until he could see socked feet step into the room.
He still didn’t touch Janus, still so focused on his comfort (was any of it even for Janus’s comfort? Maybe Remus just hadn’t wanted to touch him this whole time) but he moved as close as he dared and lowered his voice.
“Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” Janus said automatically, choking on another hiccuping sob. “I just...have a headache. Stupid hangover.”
“Oh.” Remus hesitated, and Janus could feel him staring. “Did you take an ibuprofen? I can get you a couple from the bathroom. And like...gatorade. You still have some, right?”
Janus nodded and took a shaky breath, hating the way the tears still wouldn’t stop falling. “Yeah. In the fridge.”
“Good,” Remus said, and Janus still couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want you hurting.”
“I’m fine. Just drank too much.”
“You were pretty drunk.”
“I don’t remember last night at all,��� Janus said, more bitter than was probably necessary. “Clearly.”
It was enough to give Remus pause, plunging the kitchen into heavy silence. Janus crossed his arms and risked a glance up when he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Anyways, gatorade—”
“I can get it.”
“No, I got it,” Remus said, and Janus watched warily as he pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit down.”
Janus hunched his shoulders, tears still sliding down his jaw just as fast as before, but he did as Remus said and shakily made his way over to the table, lowering himself carefully until he could curl up in his chair.
Remus returned almost immediately with a bottle of blue gatorade from the fridge and two painkillers from the bathroom medicine cabinet. He handed them over silently, standing awkwardly by the table while Janus took them.
Janus did his best, carefully swallowing the pills and sipping the gatorade with shaky hands. But he couldn’t get himself to stop crying, or even slow his tears, wracked with seemingly never ending sobs no matter how hard he tried to get a hold of himself. Remus standing there just made it so much worse.
He saw Remus crouch down to Janus’s level, breaths only coming out more frantic when Remus frowned and moved to hold Janus’s face in his hands.
“C’mon,” Remus said softly, brushing Janus’s cheeks with his thumbs. “What’re you crying for?”
Janus couldn’t answer. Remus sounded so gentle and adoring and it only made him cry harder, choking on a pathetic whimper as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hey, hey, you’re ok.” Remus kept wiping Janus’s tears, his touch light and grounding. “It’s just me, Jan. You can tell me.”
Janus shook his head, weakly clutching at Remus’s sleeves. “N-no, I’m just...I’m being an idiot. Go get your waffles.”
Remus didn’t move, and Janus could practically feel him staring. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m being stupid,” Janus insisted, because he was. He knew he was. “I sw-swear I just...you don’t want to deal with this right now.”
“I’ll be fine, Jan. Tell me what happened.”
Remus kept brushing his tears away, warm and gentle, and Janus couldn’t catch his breath. Maybe there was a way he could fix this, get Remus to change his mind, or at least understand how he’d misread everything so horribly.
Janus finally managed to take a shaky breath, loosening his hold on Remus’s arms. “Did...did I do something wrong?”
“Wh- no?” Remus frowned, straightening a little to try and look Janus in the eyes. “You didn’t do anything.”
“You just,” Janus hesitated, wondering if it would be easier if he just gave up and dropped it. “You answered really fast when I asked about last night.”
Realization dawned on Remus’s face, and Janus’s heart dropped when he suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Oh.”
“I get it,” Janus said quickly, because now Remus was the one refusing to meet his gaze. “I do, it’s fine. I just...didn’t know if I had done something, or—”
He cut himself off when Remus suddenly pulled back, taking his comforting warmth with him, leaving Janus feeling frigid and empty.
He curled in on himself, wondering if at this point it would be a better idea just to kick Remus out of his apartment so they could start over and pretend none of this ever happened.
“It’s not...you- you didn’t...” Remus was stumbling over his own words, shuffling uncomfortably where he stood, and each attempt to explain only crushed Janus further. “It isn’t—”
“Yeah, no I get it,” Janus snapped, any venom overshadowed by the misery in his tone. He was hurt and tired and he just wanted to go back to bed. “It’s fine, Remus.”
“No, I’m—”
“I said I get it! It’s ok, I...I shouldn’t even have asked.”
“I lied.” Remus wasn’t looking at him, his back turned to Janus as he pulled and fiddled with his chain necklace. “Sorry.”
“Oh.” Janus...suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. “That you...loved me? Or that you didn’t say it.”
“That I didn’t say it,” Remus confessed, and Janus’s tears started to slow. “I, uh...I did. I said it.”
Janus didn’t move, terrified that he might somehow break the illusion and Remus would turn around laughing again, waving off any silly ideas of love or commitment.
“Did you mean it?” he asked carefully, hating how shaky his voice was. “If you were drunk we can just drop it.”
“I wasn’t drunk,” Remus said. He sighed, running a hand over his face, still turned away. “Yeah, I...I meant it.”
“Oh.” Janus expected to feel relieved, but now Remus was shaking too, and he still wouldn’t turn around, and Janus just felt scared and numb. “Why did you—”
“Because I wasn’t ready,” Remus blurted. “I don’t...I don’t know if I’m ready, and I don’t know if you...I didn’t think you would remember. It’s...it’s a huge jump, Jan. And usually I’m all for being impulsive, you know that, but you just...this is different. You deserve better than that.”
Janus wiped once more at his eyes, but something had loosened a bit in his chest at Remus’s words, the other man still tense and refusing to look up from the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, rubbing his sleeve over his face until his eyes burned. “I shouldn’t have pushed, I just thought...something else.”
“What?” Remus finally turned to face him, but his confusion only lasted a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh, fuck I didn’t even...I didn’t think about your feelings. Shit, I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“No, Remus it’s fine—”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Remus pressed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I jumped to conclusions,” Janus said, trying to sound casual despite how his face was stained with tears and it felt like he’d just been punched in the chest. “It’s ok.”
Remus nodded, though he still seemed a little frantic. “We can just...ignore this. If you want to.”
Janus wasn’t sure how he felt about that solution, but he wasn’t going to push Remus out of his comfort zone any more than he already had today. “Is that what you want to do?”
“I don’t want to make you...uncomfortable,” Remus said slowly, and he smirked at the irony of his own words. “Not with this, anyway. Feelings are fucking gross and dumb and I know you don’t want any part of that, and I’m really sorry.”
“What?” Janus sat up a little straighter, wondering how he’d managed to find someone just as stupid as he was. “No, Remus—”
“I understand!” Remus kept going, barrelling over whatever Janus had been about to say. “Like, obviously I understand. I’m awful but I’m not gonna—”
“God, you’re such a dumbass.” Janus scrubbed a hand over his face, smiling into his palm. “I was upset because I thought you didn’t love me.”
Remus froze, staring with wide eyes like Janus had just said spoken in a foreign language. “Oh.”
“You answered so fast when I asked you,” Janus explained. “I thought I did something to fuck this up. Or that I’d just...misunderstood your intentions.”
“You didn’t,” Remus said. “I was- you know. Just scared.”
Janus nodded, forcing himself to take a deep breath and look Remus in the eyes. “I know. I...I know. I love you.”
Remus’s head snapped up. “You do?”
Janus actually laughed outright at the shock on Remus’s face, like a child that had just been told he was getting his first puppy. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah of course I do, Remus.”
“For real?” Remus asked, even as a huge grin began to take over his face. “Like no joke? You’re not fucking with me?”
“Well, I did think it was obvious,” Janus said, and he couldn’t help but match Remus’s smile. “I love you, you idiot.”
“Me? Shit, Jan, you need higher standards, dude.”
“Don’t call me dude.” Janus took another sip of his gatorade to hide his obvious smile. “I literally just confessed to you.”
“You confessed to having horrible taste.”
“I love you,” Janus said again, because Remus was blushing and he was absolutely using this to his advantage. “Obviously. I’m sitting here crying at ten in the morning because I thought you didn’t.”
Remus had the decency to look embarrassed, another thing almost no one besides Janus got to see. “You could have been crying because you were hungover.”
“No. I was heartbroken, dumbass.”
Remus made a face like he’d tasted something sour. “That’s gross.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Janus scoffed, capping and pushing away his drink. “You said you loved me first.”
“Gross, don’t bring it up,” Remus said, and Janus smirked as he pushed himself to his feet. “I sound like a sap.”
Janus laughed, moving to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s (Boyfriend? They’d have to talk about that one later) waist and rest his head in the crook of Remus’s neck. “You told me you loved me. While I was drunk.”
“You cannot tell anyone.”
Janus scoffed, having no intention of honoring that wish. “Why not?”
“Because,” Remus said. “It makes me sound gross and gay.”
“You’ve always been gross and gay.” Janus pulled back, just enough to grin at him. “Besides, you’ve been teasing Roman about Virgil for months.”
“He deserves it,” Remus declared. “He needs to get over himself.”
“At least he doesn’t confess to people while they’re drunk and then lie about it the next day.”
Remus’s blush deepened and Janus finally relented. He leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Remus’s lips- which quickly turned into something deeper when Remus moved to capture the rest of his mouth and pull him closer.
He only pulled away when he realized he'd started crying again, the relief that Remus loved him, that he hadn’t been wrong, that he wasn’t losing what they had, hitting all at once.
Janus shuddered and struggled to catch his breath, his breathing coming out in quick gasps again, and he clung onto Remus’s shirt like a lifeline.
“Oh, shit.” Remus’s eyes went wide in panic, and Janus found himself laughing around the tears. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“You’re ok,” Janus assured him, leaning forward again to rest his head on Remus’s shoulder. Remus didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around him. “I just...really thought I was losing you.”
“You’re not. I’m still here.”
“I know,” Janus said. He was overwhelmed and exhausted and he’d never been awake this long with a hangover. “The ibuprofen didn’t help either.”
Remus had one hand carding through his hair, the other cupping his jaw as he pressed a kiss to Janus’s forehead. Just like he had last night when he’d told Janus he loved him.
When he’d told Janus he loved him and meant it.
“We should get you back to bed,” Remus said, every bit as adoring as he’d been when Janus was too drunk to stand. “How about I bring you your waffles and we can put on a movie?”
“You’re going to get crumbs in my bed again.”
“No I’m not.” Janus didn’t even get a chance to protest further before Remus had his arms around his waist, hoisting him into the air and over his shoulder. “And you’re too hungover to stop me.”
Janus couldn’t argue with that, relaxing into Remus’s hold as he carried him down the hall and back into the dimly lit bedroom, the darkness already soothing his pounding head.
Remus set him down on the bed, kissed him again for good measure, and returned a moment later with the waffles Janus had left in the toaster. He put the plate on the nightstand beside the half empty water bottle, and settled in beside Janus.
He didn’t even pay attention to Remus’s laptop opening, or the waffle that was offered to him. Janus just wrapped his arms around Remus and rested his head on his chest.
“You’ll stay with me?” Janus asked, already drifting off to the smell of waffles and the clicking of Remus’s keyboard.
“I never planned on leaving,” Remus said, muffled from where he’d pressed his nose into Janus’s hair. “And I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
Janus muttered something even he couldn’t make out, letting his eyes slip shut, breaths steadying in sync to Remus’s own.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when he must have thought Janus was already asleep, that Remus began running his fingers through Janus’s hair again, leaning forward to press one last kiss to his temple.
“I love you too,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I love you, Janus.”
Janus smiled, content with letting Remus believe he’d fallen asleep before he could hear the words. Just this once.
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