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mailbackupsoftware · 5 months ago

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Why Mail Backup X works at all levels as a Gmail backup tool

For Gmail backup, we need a tool that makes this process far more easy and judicious in comparison to manual methods. Similarly, a tool should not impose a long stretched learning curve upon users. It should make the best use of available time and resources, so that a PC does not face the brunt of overloaded resources. A tool should be ideal for routine usage, which must be supported by easily customizable settings. When you are installing this tool, or whether you are entering login details or whether you are uploading confidential files, data integrity should never be at stake due to a loopholes-ridden process. Mail Backup X duly fulfills these requirements and thus is considered as a Gmail backup tool that works at all levels.

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This Gmail backup and restore tool puts data safety above everything else

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Gmail backup that is versatile and flexible

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Other features that present this Gmail backup and restore tool a utility of its own

This Mail Backup X Gmail email backup software provides high degree of data compression which is many times more powerful than other tools and this process is completely safe. No data element will go corrupt or missing. Even the folder hierarchy will find its rightful place in backups. As pointed earlier, this tool has an inbuilt mail viewer, which will assist you in keeping a tab over old and incoming emails. An advanced search window will pave a non-bumpy, short road for quick email search. PDF archiving is one of the star features of this tool. An exclusive FTP server will allow you to share files without any fear of things going haywire. In an nutshell, this tool is a complete solution, and you will no more be left wanting for more.

There's more to this Gmail backup tool than you can fathom

Mirror backups are also available. Users have lavished this tool with praises due to inclusion of the very useful USB snapshot feature. Dual compatibility with Windows and Mac makes this tool an unbeatable combination of telling features. Google approved login will ignite immense trust in you to proceed ahead without any worries. Since this tool falls within a very affordable price packet, users from across the globe have been able to partake in its diversity-embellished technology. Likewise, there are a zillion more reasons to embrace the cutting edge technology of this tool with full warmth.

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#Gmail #Gmail mail #Gmail email #Gmail mailbox #gmail backup #backup gmail #gmail backup software #gmail backup tool #save gmail #secure gmail #mail #mail backup #backup mail

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p-a-c-k · 6 months ago

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I'm curious as to why there's a very easily accessible box on a stcik where people put important pieces of paper right in front of houses.

And what the thought process when it was invented.

And why they thought making it illegal to open said easily accessible box would stop people from taking these important pieces of paper.

#this is about mailboxes if you didn't figure it out #yes I know po boxes exist and that apartment buildings and some neighborhoods have more secure mail systems #but like #mailboxes are still like everywhere #and so so easy to get into #why am I thinking about the concept of mailboxes and it's flaws

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vmlogin · 2 years ago

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How to Manage Multiple Outlook Accounts Efficiently?

With VMLogin Browser, you can register and log in to multiple Outlook mailboxes at the same time on a single device, open multiple windows, quickly switch windows to browse information, and keep each account independent. In addition, VMLogin Browser provides privacy protection and security enhancements to keep your accounts and data safe.

📢Free Trial: https://www.vmlogin.us 📢Telegram: @vmlogin_us

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rafeslvbug · 21 days ago

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DEFINITELY A COURT CASE OMG !!!! maybe the bio dad tries to put rafe's job on the line bcos of a "power imbalance" or smth like that and makes up all this bullshit about rafe

paediatrician!rafe being taken to court by rory’s bio dad…

getting notified he was being taken to court:

the letter was posted through his mailbox before he got home. nearly trampled under his foot as he held aurora in one arm, a bag of groceries in the other and you trailing behind with infectious laughter.

a great day.

branded with a ‘notice of proceedings’ from the court.

rafe had neglected opening the letter, held it off because he knew almost immediately what it was about. your ex was bothering you more often, he’d nearly turned red when he found out rafe had adopted rory, that you two were engaged.

he’d tucked it into his draw, kissing away the pout on rory’s face because she could see the way he looked so concerned over the tiny piece of paper.

but he had to face it. sitting in bed with you, head leaning against the backboard, while you were cross-legged, slipping your finger under the seal to undo it. pulling out the heavy letter, one that threatened to crumble your life.

“what’s it say?” he sighs, running a hand over his face, unable to bear how your ex plans on ruining you both.

“he’s questioning your parental rights because he didn’t give permission for you to adopt rory…and he wants custody,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, setting the paper down.

“for fucks sake,” he grumbles, blinking back the hotness burning at his eyes. fingers interlocking with his, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“it’ll be okay,” you tell him, though you’re not sure how much you believe yourself.

court proceedings:

your ex passed you in the hallway outside the courtroom, a smug smile that rafe had never wanted to wipe off his face more in his entire life. he’d do it if he wasn’t sure an argument of him being abusive would have then been supported.

in court, the fragility of his argument was quickly exposed. he began with his first interaction with rafe, when rafe all but hauled him out of the hospital - seems an abuse argument was going to be evident anyways. but rafe’s lawyer quickly dismissed it by saying that it was a matter of security. your ex was aggressive and refused to leave the premises despite your absence. they even had one or two nurses write statements on the event just to prove it.

then he said rafe’s involvement with you was unprofessional. but that was of no concern to the judge, since there was nothing wrong with rafe being engaged to you.

perhaps the one thing that had you sucking in your breath and holding it for a few beats too long was when he mentioned rafe becoming the adoptive father without consent. this, would surely cause some conflict. your ex demanded that he wanted custody, that he had rights, and you had to bite down on your lip until it bled to stop you from yelling at him. but rafe stayed calm, even in the midst of a storm. his lawyer presented the argument that your ex hadn’t been present, and was given every opportunity to be. you had no method of contacting him, so permission couldn’t be asked, and he had no involvement in rory’s life to the point where she didn’t even know him.

after hours of sitting in the small courtroom, statements read, witness character reports written by you and a common friend testifying that your ex had never been present and rafe had been from the very beginning, as a friend or boyfriend, the judge finally ruled.

rafe hadn’t had a greater moment of relief then when his rights as an adoptive father weren’t stripped from him. you had never felt more relieved when his custody request was also denied. on the grounds of previous neglect, and the fact that rory didn’t know him and seemed to hide behind you whenever he got close, your ex wasn’t deemed in the best interest of her future.

rafe was, though.

rafe was who aurora recognised as a dad, got excited and stumbled towards when she saw he came to pick her up at daycare. rafe was the one whose legs she clung to when your ex told her he was her dad.

rafe was the one who scooped her into his arms after the court judgement, when she had been waiting outside with your friend, carrying her into the car and grateful he still had her.

he still had his family.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777 @rafesapple

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lovelybucky1 · 10 months ago

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married!logan x reader is incredible, but what about married!reader x logan? everytime they fuck logan is such a cocky bastard about the fact that her little hubby can never make her feel like this 🫠🫠🫠

logan knows he should feel guilty about fucking a married woman, but he couldn’t care less when he’s inside you. you feel too good for your pussy to be wasted on some mediocre dick.

he loves that you sneak around with him because your husband can’t give it to you good enough. it fuels his ego like nothing else. he loves knowing that he’s the only one who can make you scream.

“why’d you marry a guy who can’t fuck, huh? don’t give me some bullshit about love. needy whore like you can’t love a guy like that. did his parents pay you or something? bribe you to date that needle-dick? you’re wasting your fuckin’ time with him. could be with someone who knows what they’re going. could be with me.”

he knows you’ll never leave your safe, secure life with your husband for unpredictable, dangerous logan. he wouldn’t want that life for you anyway, but he hates seeing you unhappy with that deadbeat. he could treat you so much better. he does treat you better.

in another life, he’s your husband and it’s his last name on the mailbox. and you’d never be unsatisfied. logan would never leave you wanting for anything and you both would be happy. too fucking bad that needle-dick saw you first.

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fanfic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfic #x men smut #x men x reader

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astroismypassion · 1 year ago

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Astrology observations from real life 🪷🪷🪷

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

A few in my mailbox asked me to post about astrology playing out in real life. I still have to preface that the view is mostly based from the viewpoint of my own individual Natal chart. So it’s coming from a perspective of Taurus Sun, Aries Moon, Scorpio Rising.

🪷 For me 8th house Synastry with Cancer or Taurus, Libra over the 8th house is not the usual “love or hate connection” at all. So this is one thing I definitely didn’t relate. I think love hate dynamic could be perhaps more prominent if you have a malefic, Capricorn, Aquarius etc. over the 8th house. So I have Cancer over the 8th house. And best I could describe 8th house Synastry with Cancer placements is “failed attempts”. I really like them, but nothing ever gets of the ground with them. I had already someone’s Cancer Sun and Mercury in my 8th house and another person’s Cancer Sun, Venus, Mercury and Mars in my Cancer 8th house. Each Cancer was completely different, but there was usually a pattern I noticed, that after 3 years of knowing them, there is usually a breaking point and it’s always after 3 years. They either rejected me, friendzoned me or weren’t looking to enter a committed partnership. So technically, on paper is nothing particularly wrong in the 8th house Synastry, just stagnant and not much happening and the connection just never got of the ground to begin with. So that’s why I don’t really understand the 8th house love or hate thing. I would say we are pretty neutral toward one another and don’t hate each other, but aren’t in love either.

🪷 Aquarius Moon can end up being quite narrow-minded in a way that they have hard time fully accepting the other’s perspective, but only their own. That’s why sometimes having a conversation with them, doesn’t feel like a dialogue, but more so like they are in a monologue with themselves. Some can end up being quite preachy, because of that.

🪷 In my experience Taurus Moons, natives with Taurus IC are some of the most secure individuals. Because they have the needed self-love and most that I have met don’t even feel the need to start a partnership, just because they are just so comfortable on their own.

🪷 Pisces Moon can either be incredibly intuitive, compassionate or really mean “in the name of the truth”. But I feel like you have to know them for years, before it really becomes apparent how blunt, truthful and sometimes mean they actually are. They can kind of be unhealthy towards themselves by not believing they are capable. But also have the ability to negatively influence others with their negative mood as well. They are really observant and good listeners, therefore often times they choose words that know will sting you.

🪷 I noticed that stereotypically labelled as “players” when grown up, Aries Moon men, even Moon aspect Mars natives, appear that way only in adulthood. But what I found, that in childhood/teenage years they were often ignored by women or didn’t receive much romantic attention at all. They were rarely picked or chosen. So later they seem to quite enjoy the attention. I’d say maybe it’s the same for Aries Moon women? I don’t know, but Selena Gomez (Aries Moon) did talk about how boys were never interested in her when she way much younger, that she didn’t receive much romantic attention.

🪷 Libra Chiron people have strange behaviour. They still pursue people who rejected them and fall even deeper in love. Like what?? You guys deserve reciprocal love and not this one-sided thing.

🪷 Scorpio Rising, Pluto in the 1st house native is really one of the realest people you meet out there. They become so open and honest about life with time and in adulthood. They are not pretentious at all and I noticed they even don’t mind if they embarrass themselves a bit, as long as they are being authentic and living their own truth and purpose. A lot of them also went through a major breakthrough in life (dropped out of education, lost an important job etc.) and that launched them in a totally new life direction, career path, where they end up being successful then. They are very artistic, even though they appear logical, excellent problem solvers too.

🪷 Natives with Moon at a Leo degree (5, 17, 29) low key are Cancer Suns. I noticed you have troubled love life, because you get taken advantage of your kindness and you are genuinely so nice. I wouldn’t say this rings true too for Leo Moons or Moon in the 5th house natives (you more so attract rather selfish people).

🪷 Libra Moons probably rarely saw the conflict resolution between parents, so many of them are so conflict avoidant (are even scared to have tension) in a partnership, because deep down they didn’t really learn conflict resolution and don’t know how to solve it.

🪷 Cancer Moon men desire a wife, a housemaker, a best friend, a lover, a wifey in one person. They often secretly wish for a very traditional marriage. But to be fair, they probably had parents that were married for years or married couple goals, so they had role models and want the same for themselves.

🪷 A lot of Scorpio Risings or Pluto in the 1st house native have this idealisation with wealth going on. A lot of them dream of extreme wealth and are very money, financial stability oriented.

🪷 You really get along with someone who has their Rising sign in the same sign of your 11th house. For example: you have Scorpio over the 11th house, you could have a good chance to get along with Scorpio Risings.

🪷 Libra Chiron don’t find themselves attractive. But y’all are models for real. So so many people find you very conventionally attractive.

🪷 Aquarius Eros people can have a tendency to be so random. And you guys love love surprising others. Just not the other way. 😂 You dislike surprises. But I don’t find the stereotypes of being into “group sex, threesomes, kinky af” true at all. Most of them are oddballs with specific humour and often postpone intimacy, because they prefer touching people with their words. They really like hangouts and long talks over physical intimacy or touching. A lot of them also don’t understand why people rush intimacy so much. They like to take their time. However, they are into connection with people that has proved time. The longer they have known you, the more they are likely to consider you an intimate option. They really like people that stick with them or have been in their life for years.

🪷 Pisces Descendants doesn’t come across to me as delusional. Instead quite controlling towards the actions of their partner. They are idealistic about love and want their partner to act accordingly with their wishes. So they get “their way” by presenting themselves as a hopeless romantic.

🪷 Cancer Moon, Moon in the 4th house both men and women often feel like they can’t protect or defend themselves in the world. So they are often attracted to “protector” type of partner. However, the potential downfall of not learning how to protect themselves is falling into a parent child dynamic with their partner (with Cancer Moon, Moon in the 4th house native acting as a child).

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

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softtdaisy · 2 months ago

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soooo thinking about bodyguard Hotch (as always) and inspired by the latest fic, I wondered what other characters think of how close Hotch and reader are getting when he's still "on the case"?

I'm a sucker for outsider perspectives and I'm sooo curious if the BAU gang suspects anything or maybe even the stalker's perspective on Hotch and reader 👀

keep on teasing me / Aaron Hotchner

summary. 5 times someone teased Hotch about the case, the one he did the teasing

words count. 4 593

what to expect. the team is here but nothing except for that

a/n. thank you so much for your request sweetie!! i didn't see the BAU as The BAU in this series i picture them more some kind of agency or i don't know but they're here and it was sooo fun to have them around so hopefully you love this 🤍

bodyguard masterlist | criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

1. the team meeting

“Agent Rossi, but you can call me David. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You watched as David extended his hand, only to take yours and give it a kiss. “Well, the same goes for you, David,” you replied with a soft laugh.

You noticed Hotch rolling his eyes next to you, and you pinched your lips not to laugh even harder.

After you received yet another letter in your mailbox, the bureau decided to add new cameras and a security system to your apartment. Meaning, you had to leave for the day. Something you weren’t quite sure you understood, but you still agreed to.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice when Hotch was literally pushing you outside this morning.

“It’s a great occasion for you to meet everyone,” he justified in the car while driving you to his office for the very first time.

You didn’t realize you had never seen where he was supposed to be working until today. How funny he knew every single centimeter of your place, and yet you didn’t even know what type of wood his desk was made of. Or if he had pictures on it. Pictures of whom? That was another question.

But he was right. You got to meet everyone. Seeing the real Derek, Emily, and Spencer you’ve seen on screen during the weekly meeting. Getting to meet the bubbly Penelope that was sending mail written in pink to organize every event you had to go to. You already knew Jennifer, the one who stayed with you when you had to get ready for a special occasion—after Hotch did once and left the room with cheeks redder than your lipstick.

“Maybe one of you can finally answer my question,” you said, your arms crossed on your chest once you were all in the meeting room. All their eyes landed on you, curious to see what could be on your mind. They were hiding many things from you—you didn’t need to know about the wannabe stalkers and those that defended you.

You put your hands on the desk in a very professional way, bending over. Just enough for Hotch’s eyes to fall on your back and your ass for a second. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by David.

“Why can’t I be here while you put cameras all over my place?”

“Because” Spencer started in a low and calm voice that he could say anything, you would believe him. “It’s safer that you don’t know about all of them in case something happens. We know that people tend to look at things that could put them in danger when they feel threatened. And if your stalker comes into your place…”

“Which he won’t.” Hotch interrupted him.

“Well, yes, but in case he does, you won’t be looking at the cameras because you won’t know where they are, and there is a smaller chance that he will notice them.”

You nodded; his explanation was fair, and your first thought was right: you tend to believe everything this man said. “But if I walk around naked, that means you will all see me?”

Sure, they laughed. You did too. It was a genuine question, but the situation was rather funny considering your case. Even Hotch let out a laugh, but mostly to hide his embarrassment at the idea.

Nobody answered your question in the end, and the discussion went to other subjects: the following weeks, the events, the organization… always the same movie playing on repeat in the end.

After the meeting, the girls offered to get you a coffee, and you gladly accepted their offer to change your mind. And discover the office. “And I’ll show you Hotch’s desk!” was a very good argument too.

Did he hear it? Yes. Will he stop you? No.

He was ready to accept your teasing about his bland and boring office if it made you happy.

Instead, he stayed in the meeting room to organize the latest proofs and stuff they collected.

“She has a point,” he heard in his back.

When he turned around, he wasn’t surprised to see David leaning against the door.

“What if she walks around naked and doesn’t know where the cameras are?” he added with a cheeky smile. Because that wasn’t his main concern. That wasn’t what he really meant. “But now that I think about it, you’re always around, so if she walks around naked…”

“Stop it,” he groaned, turning his back to him again. If he couldn’t see his amused face, he could hear his laugh. And again, the heat grew on his cheeks. It happened already; he almost saw you in your underwear. When you left your room and forgot that your bodyguard was always around.

Or you didn’t forget at all?

2. the recording studio

“One more take!”

You happily nodded, putting your headphones back on your ears to get ready to record again.

This was the first time since your case started and Hotch had been watching over you that you went back to the recording studio. You had been asking multiple times in the past. But until the team couldn’t secure a place, they kept refusing. More than once, Hotch offered that they build their own recording studio at your place.

“The whole point is that I don't get to work alone, Aaron.” You told him over dinner one night when he put the offer on the table again. “I know what I can do, sure. But I also need some artistic view, and as much as I appreciate you, you’re not an artist.”

And so after meeting the team you were used to working with and talking with your producer a couple of times, Hotch finally agreed to bring you to the studio. On one condition: he was going with you. Something you immediately said yes to because “you’re going to see me in my best element.”

Derek came with him, mostly to protect you from the fans when you would leave. They were already a lot when you arrived; they can’t imagine the number after the session. And two bodyguards were better than one.

Meaning, on top of looking after you, Hotch had to look after his own reactions looking at you. Because you were right, you were in your element, and there was something magical in the way you lit up when you sang. You were living for your music. The words you wrote these past weeks were the happiest, which it wasn’t hard to understand why.

More than once, he got lost in the beauty of the moment. Like there was nobody else in the room except for you and him. Like most of the time you spent together, to be honest. But it was…different. These felt more like a dream than the reality of what you were going through, putting the reason why Hotch was by your side all the time. He wished it would never stop.

When you started another song, this felt like another dream beginning. Another movie to start. The next episode of his favorite show.

And the truth was, Hotch wasn’t even paying much attention to the words you were singing.

But Derek was.

“They couldn't have me, and they never will. And sometimes I hold you closer just to know you're real.”

“Wait a minute.” Derek whispered. Hotch immediately perceived the amusement and especially the teasing in his voice. “She wrote this song lately?”

Hotch didn’t move, or maybe just a little when he crossed his arms tighter against his chest. But his eyes didn’t leave you. Not for a second. “How am I supposed to know?” he replied in a sharp tone that would indicate he didn't want to talk about it more.

Yet, he knew Derek Morgan more than anybody on this team. When this man had an idea in his head, there was little to nothing that could be done to change his mind. So he wasn’t surprised to see him make a step closer to the producer to put a hand on his shoulder. Neither was he when he heard him ask what the name of the song was.

“Bodyguard.”

You called that song Bodyguard. As much as he tried to stay focused on you, Hotch noticed from the corner of his eyes Derek turning his head to him and giving him a proud look. “Bodyguard,” he repeated, so low it was almost unhearable.

You sang the whole song, talking about the need to protect each other and being ready to do anything for their safety. And if it was more true on Hotch's side, it was the whole reason he was here in the first place. He could tell that there was some truth for you too. He knew that you had defended him already, for fun, when his teammates showed amusement about the situation and your complicity. For real, when you heard some people from outside questioning him—his ability or even his look.

He never felt unattractive, nor did he think he was the most handsome man in the world. But hearing you say there was no man you would rather have by your side than him built his confidence back. And having you sing it in a song that would probably be on your album was on another level.

“I think I understand now why you don’t want to get rid of this mission.” Derek finally said when he walked back to Hotch.

Hotch, who rolled his eyes again and sighed, said, “Shut up.”

And Derek laughed again. Except this time, Hotch couldn’t contain his smile when you looked at him after finishing your verse. With a sweet smile, like you were waiting for his approval. Asking if he had understood what you were trying to say.

And his simple nod was the answer you both needed to say he knew. He understood. And he felt the same.

3. the teasing

“You know everything will be fine, right?”

You found it ironic that you were the one reassuring your bodyguard.

You were sitting cross-legged on your sofa, watching as Hotch kept going back and forth between his room and the living room. Clearly more stressed about leaving than you were.

Sure, you did have anxiety about him leaving in the past. And sure, you loved having him around and wished he didn’t have to leave.

But Hotch had to work, and the girls offered to stay for the night. It could have sounded sexist that they were two when usually one man was enough. But JJ was doing the bodyguard job; Penelope was just looking for a good excuse to spend time with you. And a pajama party never hurt anybody.

He gave you a side look after putting his bag down on the floor. “How can you be so sure, exactly?”

Was he being unfair? Yes, and he knew that. Hotch trusted his team with closed eyes. He never doubted them in any case. And he wasn’t even doubting them now.

But he couldn’t help the feeling that he was the one that could treat you the best. Maybe it was above the case situation.

“Because the girls will be there, we are just going to talk and eat and drink wine.” You were enumerating each element with your fingers. Before opening your hands to show your outfit. “And I'm wearing my favorite pajamas; nothing can happen to me.”

Hotch rolled his eyes. Because he knew that fucking pajama too damn well. A pastel-colored tank and shorts that were showing too much skin for his own good. You had been wearing it many nights around him already. And his eyes couldn’t help but fall on your naked legs anytime you would sit by his side. And his mind was hoping silently that the fabric would go higher and higher on your thighs.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he mumbled in his breath before walking back to his room. Your feet were so light on the floor that he didn’t hear you either getting up or following him.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you laughed in his back. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t see you lean against the door or cross your arms on your chest, putting the almost see-through fabric against your skin. “Are you running away because of my pajamas?”

You smiled when you heard him laugh. “Yeah, sure, they are my next enemies after your stalker.”

“Ouch, stalker mentioned before leaving? Not nice, Aaron.” You put a hand on your heart, pretending to be more hurt than you actually were. The reality was there, and you couldn't fight it, so at least you could laugh about it. When he turned his head slightly, just enough to give you a look, you noticed the amused smile on his face from your whole comedy.

But you weren’t done with him. Not when he had the audacity to leave you for the night. Not when a low, low voice in your head was reminding you that you were scared Hotch could forget about you as soon as he closed the door—something that could never happen if you could actually read his mind.

So you walked to him, slowly. “Actually,” you started, sitting on his bed right in front of him. Perfectly in his sight, with your hands resting behind you, so his eyes would fall on your neckline. “I don’t think my pajamas are your enemies.”

And it did. His eyes fall on you and the trail of skin from your neck to your chest. “Are we seriously having the conversation?” he sighed.

“I think,” you pursued, making your eyes go down on him very slowly. “That you actually loved them a lot. Maybe they are the reason why you have a hard time leaving tonight.”

The clench on his jaw. The way he bit his lips. Or the way he turned his head to try to get rid of the thought that appeared—the one where he threw everything away to lay you on this bed and took these pajamas away from you.

You knew you hit right.

“Hotch?” you heard from the living room.

The girls were there. The game was over, for now.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Hotch finally replied, pointing to you and the room and basically everything that was driving him crazy. He tried to gain composure back, pretending he was mad about your behavior.

But your only answer was a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure we will,” you continued laughing before joining the girls.

Giving Hotch one last look at your ass in these goddamn shorts that would last with him all night.

4. The Stalker

It started as a beautiful and calm day.

Nothing planned. No meeting. No event. Nothing.

Just you writing a new song and Hotch working in his room. Sometimes you tend to forget these types of days could even exist, but they did. And you loved them.

You were lying on a rug, your legs on your sofa, listening to a melody you had composed a few days ago to find the perfect chorus when you heard Hotch’s door slam suddenly. “That son of a bitch.”

It was in these moments that you realized how much you trusted Hotch with your life. Because you didn’t even flinch a little as it was a sudden and loud reaction caused by God knows what. You simply waited for his figure to appear.

And he did. Oh, you almost forgot he had his glasses on when he was working on his computer. This explained the little smile on your face when you saw him, with faded blue jeans and a dark grey shirt that looked very nice on him.

“Something’s wrong?” you asked, looking at him from above. And he did look a little disappointed by your lack of reaction. But could you blame him? He was mad enough for two.

But instead of speaking, he handed his tablet to you.

And you saw the reason for his anger—a very justifiable one now that you could see the cause.

A picture of you two in the street from three nights ago when you had a sudden need for Italian food. You had binge-watched a whole cooking competition on TV, and you were craving pure Italian food from the restaurant down the street. The thing was, they didn’t take online orders. Even when you were a famous singer or a convincing bodyguard.

So you and Hotch went there yourself to order too many dishes that you shared the very same night.

Turns out, your stalker had been waiting for you. And made sure you knew about that.

“Your boyfriend looks pretty, but not as pretty as me, my love.”

Hotch turned his head suddenly. “Are you laughing?” But it was a dumb question. He could perfectly hear your sweet laugh in his ears, even from how far you were from him in this position.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, putting your hands up in the air while getting up. You had a hard time finding your breath again. “I can’t help it.”

Hotch waited. And waited. Until you finally calmed down. But he was the one to freak out a little. When you landed your eyes on him. And when you put a hand on his arms, patting your fingers on his biceps. “He thinks you’re pretty.”

That was the point that made you laugh. That he was pretty. And the worst part was that Hotch knew why. You had a whole discussion the other day on the difference between pretty, beautiful, and gorgeous. “You, Aaron Hotchner, are gorgeous,” you said in a very serious tone.

You tried to explain that he wasn’t cute or pretty, not with his dark figure and the intensity of his look. He could be considered beautiful when he looked softer, like when he was relaxing. But he mostly looked gorgeous. You even said you wanted to put him in a music video because “that would make it work so much better.”

So you laughed about the pretty part.

Not the boyfriend part.

“You realize how dangerous it is that he saw us?” he finally added, trying to get away with the idea that being called your boyfriend sounded satisfying for the both of you.

You simply shrugged at his question. “See the positive side of it; at least he won’t approach me when you’re here. And you’re here all the time.”

And just like that, you made it sound like it was a normal thing for him to be considered your boyfriend by others.

Hotch could clearly get used to it. Or make it real someday.

5. the jealousy

“I don’t like that.” Hotch said in his breath. It could have been missed, almost inaudible.

If Emily and he weren’t in the same room, in total silence.

She turned around, her hand still full of the chips she was eating. “You want me to grab something else?” she asked, her brows furrowed from the confusion. She asked him what he wanted to eat during the tailing tonight. He had a real nerve to complain now.

But Hotch turned around, even more confused than Emily was. “What?” He looked down at the chips bag in her hands and let out an amused sigh—at least he wasn’t too angry to forget how to laugh. “I’m not talking about the chips, Prentiss.”

“Oh,” she replied, taking another handful. “Then what are you talking about, Hotch?”

She had to wait again. Because suddenly the idea of saying out loud what had been on his mind all day wasn’t as genius as he thought it was. He was being an idiot, ridiculous, he would even say. That was his job. That was everyone’s job. And he had no right to say it wasn’t a good idea or that he wasn’t happy about “Oh, it’s about Derek taking care of her tonight, right?”

A groan. That was all Hotch could answer at the moment.

And a laugh. That was the only reaction Emily had to the situation.

“Are you jealous?” she finally asked after a moment. And maybe he was quick to reply that he wasn't. Too quick, he didn’t sound sincere at all. “Ok, you’re completely jealous.”

It was a decision they made all together. Hotch was the very first to agree. After the stalker’s latest letter and the proof he had perceived the chemistry between Hotch and you himself, the team thought it would be safer to ask Derek to bring you to the premiere instead of him.

New face, new man, an easy way to confuse the stalker. And made him believe his threat was working.

Choosing Derek out of anybody was a good strategy. Sure, Spencer was good-looking but not as confident as his colleague. The girls would have been a great support, but they wouldn’t have made him jealous. And David was a great father figure, less of a lover—even if he was still talking about your compliments.

Hotch had all the proof the team made the right decision when he saw the flash crackle when you walked the red carpet, with Derek following you closely.

The good option, right? Young, good-looking, funny, smiling…

“For what it takes,” Emily started again. And if she hoped he would put his eyes away from the view of you, looking so beautiful with your dark-colored dress and your hair up—in a way he could imagine his fingers brushing your neck—she was wrong. “She’s not with him like she is with you.”

No answer. But a sigh. A very subtle sigh that was a sign of relief. Because Hotch noticed it too, honestly.

When Derek put his hand on your back, you didn’t take a single step back to cuddle against it—like you did with Hotch.

When Derek told a joke in the car, one they all heard and that made some of the team laugh, you didn’t laugh as hard as you did with Hotch—with your eyes showing your amusement, your head falling back, and a hand hitting his chest.

But mostly, anytime Derek was looking at you—definitely not in the same way Hotch was, but still—you weren't looking at him for as long as you did with him. Because anytime you were looking at Hotch, you were appreciating every single feature in his face like it was the last time.

“Oh boy.” Emily laughed, and this time, Hotch turned his head in disappointment. “You’re so falling for her.”

“Shut up.” Hotch finally replied. He saw the way Emily bit her lips, trying to contain her smile and mostly her laugh from his reaction.

And he was fighting too. Because she was so right.

“I refuse!”

Running after Hotch wasn’t too hard in your apartment—it was big but not that big. Yet it felt like this man had a little too much fun making you run in a circle and going room after room without stopping walking. Will he even stop walking one day?

Well, yes, he did. Right in front of you. Meaning you stopped too, but only by hitting his back. “You don’t want me to do my job?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“That’s not what I mean!” You hit his chest—it was an easy target, right in front of you. But Hotch was quick to turn around and grab your wrist before you gave him another punch. Or whatever you were trying to do.

“Just not with somebody else, hm?” You didn’t reply, but you frowned your brows so hard, in a way he was the master of, that he had his answer.

Hotch had been called for a mission with a young woman, the ex-wife of a high politician that didn’t want to go alone to some charity event. For your defense, you stopped listening after you heard Aaron Hotchner and the name of another woman in the same sentence. It was a one-night thing; he would be back in the morning. Nothing very unusual from your routine.

Except for the fact it was Hotch with another woman.

And the idea of seeing a picture of him looking like a god—because you knew he would, he always did—with someone else was… “maybe,” you finally answered in a mumble that made him laugh harder.

Hotch could have been angry. If it had been any other client, he would have reminded them that they had absolutely no opinion to give about his job. His job was, indeed, his job. Actually, he already had dropped a case because of a jealous client. So yeah, he could have been angry.

First, if it wasn’t you. At this point, he would be stupid to not accept you as a client. You were…you. A great and wonderful woman that made his day much better, a friend that he wanted to cherish for as long as he could. And, well, whatever you were, that justifies your place in his head and heart. He could only accept your jealousy after being jealous himself seeing you with Derek.

Second…well, because he wasn’t going to this case after all. He was called for it, and he had done the meeting, the organization. Everything was ready. And until a few hours ago, he was still on it, ready to spend another night with politicians—the thing he probably hated the most in his job. But he quit at the last minute. Spencer would go for him, and he would do a much better job at pretending to be interested in what these idiots would say—mostly to contradict them.

“That’s funny.”

You opened your mouth only to close it. And opened it again. “You think I’m funny?”

“Everyone kept teasing me about this case, saying I’m too involved with you, that my reactions are too much, that I’m too possessive. You teased me about not wanting to leave you.” It was hard to concentrate with his big green eyes stuck in yours and his fingers brushing your wrist like that. “But you are the one who refuses to see me go somewhere with someone else.”

You stayed like that, in silence, for a few seconds. You, frowning and pretending to be hurt. Him, with his proud smile that was only making you angrier.

But in the end he was right.

It was fun to tease him about his feelings when yours just hit you in a quite violent way.

So you took a step back, then another, before turning your back. “Blame a girl for being jealous,” you said in your breath before walking to your sofa and lying down. Pretending that stupid and arrogant—and many other adjectives you could find to describe Hotch that weren’t true—had already left.

But he hadn’t.

He looked at you.

He could have told the truth.

He could have told you he wasn’t going there and he was just playing with you.

But instead he said, “You win.”

You didn’t even turn around. Didn’t even move. Which made him laugh even harder because he knew you were simply pretending not to care. But when Hotch walked closer to you, enough that he could put a hand on the sofa and tilted his head to look at you, he saw the smile on your face. The one you were trying to hide but couldn’t contain at the idea of him being by your side.

“I’m staying with you.”

And you both knew these words had more meaning than they were pretended to.

He was staying. Tonight. Maybe longer. Maybe forever.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife (if you want to be in it, ask me and I’ll be happy to add you x)

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bbina · 3 months ago

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THE PEN HAS BEEN PICKED UP YALL I REPEAT THE PEN HAS BEEN PICKED UP

- 🍚

i may or may not have sacrificed a chenle fic ive been talking about for so long and just added whatever that was in that fic onto the main thing saur.. i think we’re cooking 🔥🔥🔥

#20k words secured #HSHHSHSHSHSHS #IM SO EXCITED #mailbox #★.mail: 🍚 anon

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mailbackupsoftware · 5 months ago

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keehendrixx · 6 months ago

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You’re Mines

Crazy Intruder!Terry x Black Reader

Warnings: Smut, Rough Sex, Bondage, Pure Filth, Stalking, Gagging, Dirty Talk, Kidnapping, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Stockholm Syndrome. P in V, Use of Pet Names, Degradation. Oral (Male & Female Receiving)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Terry watched your every move, from sunrise to sundown. His basement was full of pictures of you; eating out, shopping, at your job, out with friends, even in your shower at your house or you just changing clothes in your bedroom. He was OBSESSED with you and didn’t stop at anything until he got where he wanted you, in his arms, or you underneath him.

As you walked outside your house to check the mailbox, Terry sat in his truck looking at you. Terry's heart raced as he took in the sight of you, Dallas. The way the sunlight highlighted your curves, the sway of your hips as you walked. He couldn't tear his gaze away. After months of surveillance, he finally had you alone. He revved the engine, preparing to pull up beside you.

“Hey there, beautiful.” He called out, trying to sound casual despite the excitement coursing through him. “Fancy running into you here.”

You turned around, looking at him. His eyes captivated you in a trance.

“Oh, Hi. You are?” you asked, looking at him as you stood on your lawn.

“Terry.” Terry flashed you a charming smile, leaning across the passenger seat to get a better look at you. “I've seen you around town quite a bit lately. You're absolutely stunning, if I do say so myself.” His eyes roamed over your body appreciatively before meeting yours again. “So, what brings a gorgeous lady like yourself to this part of town?”

“Oh I moved here a couple months back. I have never seen you around here before.” You said not taking your eyes off of him.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, that's because I've been keeping an eye on you from afar, darlin'.You caught my attention right off the bat.”

He winked playfully. “And now, fate seems to have brought us together. What a lovely coincidence, don't you think?”

Terry pulled up alongside you, rolling down the window further. “Say, would you mind hopping in for a quick chat? I promise I won't bite... unless you want me to.” He smirked, his tone dripping with innuendo.

“Uhh.. I don’t hop in the car with strangers.”

Terry's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, not wanting to scare you off just yet.

“Ah, fair enough, sweetheart. I understand your caution. But let me assure you, I'm no ordinary stranger. I've been watching you, getting to know you, for months now.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened wide.

“Excuse me? You’ve been what?!”

“You heard me babygirl, I’ve been watching you.”

He reached over on his side and pulled out a photo album, flipping it open to reveal numerous pictures of you going about your daily life.

Sweat began to form on your head and panic sat in, but you didn’t want to call the cops right away. Some kind of way this man had you intrigued.

“See? I've documented all of you. You're all I can think about, baby.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “And I need to be close to you. Very close.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you sprinted back into the house.

You rushed and locked all of your doors. You peeked out the window to find Terry’s truck gone, you sighed in relief but you wondered where he could have gone.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••••••••••••••••••

Later that night >

As you were getting ready for bed, you heard faint rustling from outside. Spooked that it might be Terry again, you quickly went into your closet and grabbed your loaded pistol from the top shelf. You looked outside of your windows but there was no one there, probably a small animal rummaging around your yard. You sat the gun on your dresser.

After putting on your night clothes, you engaged your security system. You then doubled checked all of your doors to make sure that they were secure and locked, you didn’t need this man to come into your house.

You climbed into bed, strolling on your phone until sleepiness took over.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hours later, Terry pulled up around the corner of your house and sat there, contemplating his plan to get you to himself .

He grabbed a black ski mask and threw it on before grabbing a black duffel bag that was full of rope, tape, etc. He climbed out of his Dudley Truck, zipped up his jacket and walked towards your house.

Once he reached it, he saw that all of your lights were off. Being the skilled person he is, he disengaged the security system of yours from his own phone and picked the locks of your front door.

He walked in, scanning the house with predatory eyes.

Making his way up the stairs, he was careful not to make any loud noises. He quickly spotted your room, as you left your door open and walked in to find you spreaded out with your leg hitched up and your gown pooled around your waist. That sight of you alone made him silently groan.

The way the moonlight highlighted your beautiful face and skin was making it harder for him not to yank you up and force his dick into you.

He unzipped his bag and pulled out the rope and tape. He sat it on the floor next to your bed.

You heard noises and woke up to find him standing next to you. You shrieked, reaching for your gun but you couldn’t find it.

“Looking for this babygirl?” He smirked, holding up the gun that he unloaded. “So defenseless right now.”

You were in complete shock.

“If you make a sound, I’ll do more to you than I want to.” He took the rope and secured your arms behind your back, before duct taping your mouth shut.

Part of you wanted to kick and squirm, but the other was loving the way he handled you with such dominance. Terry snatched your body up out of your bed and threw you over his shoulders. He walked with you downstairs and to his truck.

It clicked to you that this man was fucking kidnapping you and you accepted it. He opened the door and put you in the passenger seat before going to his side of the truck.

Terry got in and snatched the tape off of you. You immediately screamed like a banshee. Terry’s hand came in contact with your throat and lightly gave it a squeeze.

“Let me go, you motherfuckin’ psycho!”

“I don’t think so, right now you belong to me & I always get what I want or else. You betta’ look me up, princess.” He said looking into your eyes with a look that made the thongs you were wearing moist.

“Fuck you bitch!” You spat in his face.

Terry chuckled and wiped it away with his hand, taking it into his mouth.

“Oh I plan too. In every way possible.”

“I got something for bratty bitches like you.”

With that he sped off to who knows where.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As the truck came to a halt, you looked out the window to see that you were at what looked like his house. It wasn’t big, maybe medium sized.

Terry hopped out, coming to your side and picking you up off the seat. He opened his front door and walked to a door that appeared to be the way to a basement, you were right.

He then unlocked a metal lock and opened the door to a cage and put you inside.

“What the fuck?! Let me out, Terry!”

“Nah.”

“You're gonna stay there until you can control that mouth of yours.”

He turned on the light and unsurprisingly, he had pictures of you EVERYWHERE, even some of them were of you naked. He left the basement to leave you sulking and thinking why did he want you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

What seems like hours later, Terry came back. He leaned down to your level and smirked as he saw you tied up, looking helpless, eyes pleading to be let out.

“Terry please, I’ll be good. I won’t talk back anymore. Just let me out of here.” You begged him, but he just smiled at you.

“Oh I know you will. You’ll do everything I tell you.”

Terry opened the door and grabbed you. He took you upstairs to his bedroom and opened the door with his leg. He threw up on the bed, making your gown rise up showing your baby pink thongs.

“Mmm, that pussy looks so phat! She phat baby? Let Daddy see.” He pushed your legs wider and looked between your legs. His fingers ran long lines around the damp fabric, the sensation was too much for you.

“Hell yeah, she phat and wet, just how I like ‘em. Daddy needs to see all of you babygirl.”

Terry used his strong hands and tore your clothes, ripping them off your body leaving you completely naked, and tied. In the back of your mind, you were screaming for this maniac to stop but the whimpers that came out of your mouth said otherwise.

“Fuckin’ perfect. Look at these big ass titties. You tryna’ smother a nigga with em’?” He roughly groped your breast as his fingers began to rub your nipples, twisting and pulling on them.

“T-Terry.”

“Wassup Mamas? Huh? Tell Daddy.”

Your words were caught in the back of your throat. He continued to touch and toy with your body in ways you’ve never felt before.

Terry pulled your thongs off, taking a whiff of them, & stuffing them into your mouth.

He lowered his head, throwing your legs up to your chest. He took his two pointer fingers and spread your pussy lips. He took your scent in and instantly groaned.

“Such a pretty phat puss for me to suck on.” With that his tongue went to WORK!

He latched his lips around your clit and suckled until you were withering. You tried to move your body but he popped you on your ass cheeks.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’ while I’m tryna’ eat.”

While he was eating you like you were his last meal, he stuck two of his fingers inside your wet hole. “Tight ass pussy. Gotta loosen you up for this big ol’ dick, baby.”

At this point, you were moaning and slopping out of your mouth like crazy! You stopped trying to fight against him and just let him do whatever he wanted with you.

You felt your nut coming in the pit of your stomach.

“Cum in my mouth. I can feel that shit.” He said pushing down on your stomach more.

As on cue, you instantly flooded his mouth like a waterfall. When you came down from your high, Terry pulled you up and turned your body around to where your head was basically hanging off the bed.

He undressed and you could see that thick ass dick all in its glory, your mouth drooled at the sight. Terry gave himself a few small strokes, yanking the thong out of your mouth, before smearing his precum on your lips.

“Open ya’ mouth.”

You opened your mouth and he pushed his entire length down your throat, not giving you any time to adjust to the size. You gagged and almost threw up.

“You bet not, relax ya’ throat.”

You did what he said and began taking more and more of him in.

“Shit, that fuckin’ head lethal.”

Spit and tears ran down your face but Terry didn’t care.

“Just like that, just like that. Ugh, girl you gone make big daddy bust in this pretty throat.” His strokes got sloppier, balls smacking you in the face with every thrust.

“Ouuu, you such a good dick sucka’. You suckin’ that shit like my dick was made outta’ candy. FUCKKK! I’m nuttin’.”

His warm cum slid down your throat with such ease. He pulled out and slapped the remaining cum on your lips. Terry smiled and grabbed his camera, taking a picture of you in such a disgraceful manner.

“Picture perfect, baby.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Terry had you arched into the bed, ass up high in the air as he pounded you from the back. Your moans and screams were music to his ears as they echoed off the walls. He was giving you everything he had pent up inside of his soul seemed like.

“Yeah, that’s it. Take all this dick. Take. It.”

“F-F-Fuck, ouuu Daddy, just like that! Don’t stop fucking me!” You wailed.

“With a pussy this good, I could never stop fucking you. I would kill a mothafucka’ behind this shit.”

Terry grabbed the ropes that were holding your arms in place and pulled you against his body, continuing to give you sharp thrusts. One hand reached around to grab your throat and the other grabbed one of your titties.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Tears of ecstasy streamed down your face. The way you were being loud, you knew that you would be hoarse in the morning.

“Mhmm. This my pussy?”

You didn’t answer, only a moan came out.

Terry pulled out of your creamy hole, untied the ropes and flipped you over on your back. He then tied you legs to the bed rails and slid his dick between your folds, giving your clit light smacks with his mushroom tip.

He quickly filled you up again, stretching you deliciously.

“Oh! My! God!”

“Uhh Uht, cry out for me princess.”

He started hammering your poor cunt, pulling back to where only the tip remained before slamming back into you.

“Tell Daddy this his pussy.” He said while taking his thumb rubbing it on your clit.

“It’s yours, this pussy all yours! Take it from me Daddy!” You were just saying shit at this point, words coming up all together sounding like one big word.

“Ouu Daddy! I-I love you and this dick. I don’t ever want to leave you alone!”

Terry smirked, pleased with himself as you said those words.

“Daddy loves you too babygirl, I promise you ain’t going’ nowhere.”

“You stretching my pussy sooo good! I feel it all in my stomach!”

“There were I’m supposed to be, right fuckin’ there.”

You squirted and he pulled out, rubbing your pussy up and down, thrusting back in.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head momentarily before focusing on his. They put you in a hypnotic state.

You soon uttered the words that would send Terry into a feral frenzy.

“Nut in your pussy Big Daddy. I want your baby inside my womb.”

You felt his dick twitch inside of you and he flashed that killer smile at you!

“Oh yeah? You want Daddy to put a baby inside this puss, yeah?”

You shook your head.

“I’ma’ give you exactly what you want.”

Terry planted his feet into the mattress and drove his dick damn near past your cervix. You felt him throbbing as his thrusts grew stronger.

“Oh fuck, I’m bouta’ nut in this sloppy little pussy, fill you up til you got my baby in there.”

“Shit, shit, SHIT! I’m cumming too!”

“AHHH FUCK!” His body shivered and collapsed on yours as you both rode out of your orgasms.

He pulled out and a trail of cum flowed out of you onto the sheets. He quickly scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back into you as your cunt accepted it, greedily.

Terry laid down beside you, pulling you close and snuggling his head in your neck as the heaviness of your eyes reached its peak, making you fall asleep.

“L-Love you Terry.”

“Never losing or letting you go. I love you too. You’re Mines.”

@pocketsizedpanther @kimuzostar @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @writingsbytee @theereina @planetblaque @dxddykenn

#crazy!Terry #intruder!terry #terryrichmondxblackreader #terry richmond smut #aaron pierre

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nadvs · 1 year ago

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home before dark (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

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You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since your kiss. After a moment of tense silence, he collected himself and you headed back to the party. He found his friends. You found yours.

It’s been over an hour, the sun now nestled below the horizon, and you keep catching his eye in the dark, crowded backyard. You remind yourself that his gaze is so persistently on you due to your arrangement. He’s looking out for you. That’s all.

But he didn’t have to kiss you. He could have opted for something less… intense. Because now your mind won’t stop repeating it and everything that lead up to it. Stoic, unattached, cold Rafe cried. Actually cried. And then he kissed you so gently that your head still feels like it’s spinning.

You look at him again from across the yard. He’s surrounded by the same guys he always hangs out with, but for once, you can see just how lonely he actually looks.

It hurts to think about how he considers you to be the only person who cares about him - you, a reminder of the worst thing that happened to him.

What about his friends? Or his family? Do they all neglect him, unwilling to see past his hard exterior?

When Rafe trails your car to your house after the party, it’s a few minutes past midnight and his body is already feeling the itch for more coke. It’s the best way to numb everything. But he can’t afford to. Not when he’s taking care of you. Not when you looked at him the way you did when you said he could quit.

You glance up every so often to see Rafe in the frame of your rearview mirror, his bike rumbling behind you, his headlight bright.

You reach your home, relieved to see that the mailbox is closed, and pull into the driveway.

After you both come through the front door, you arm the security system, then turn to face him.

“Do you want to take the guest bed?” you ask, having rehearsed it in the car. “Or just sleep in my room again?”

Rafe doesn’t make much eye contact with you. He’s still embarrassed.

“A distraction would be good,” he admits. He can’t fall asleep alone, sober, with nothing but his own mind replaying the humiliation of crying in front of you.

“So, boring you to sleep was a smart idea?” you ask with a small smile. Knowing you’re helping him, even in this silly little way, is gratifying considering how much he’s helping you.

Rafe huffs amusedly, tilting his head. You make your way up the stairs and he follows, chewing on his lip before he can say his next words. The guilt is killing him. Especially when you have nothing but patience and compassion for him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to…” He stops in the hallway, wanting to get this out before he gets ready for bed. “This morning… I shouldn’t have left like that.”

Rafe’s lids are low and he shuffles in place, like this is the first apology he’s ever given someone and he’s not sure if he’s doing it right.

The way he left your home was abrupt. His tone was harsh. But it was because you did the only thing you’re not supposed to do. You brought up the past. And you can’t blame him.

You decide to try to dismiss the tension between you.

“Couples fight,” you joke. “It’s okay.”

Rafe nods, his gaze still on the floor. You realize right behind him, up on the wall, hangs the photo of you and him and your mothers. His smile used to be so bright.

He steps towards the guest room and when he closes the door behind him, you take the photo off the wall and shove the frame in your dresser. You’ll do anything you can to protect him from any and every reminder.

When Rafe enters your dark bedroom, you nervously take a breath before you speak.

“You can just sleep up here again if you want,” you say. “The floor’s probably not that comfortable.”

“Sure,” he says, hoping he sounds indifferent even though he’s the farthest thing from it.

Kissing you was a thrill and just the thought of sleeping next to you makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire. Being close to you is like its own drug and he can’t get enough.

You smell minty toothpaste as Rafe settles next to you in bed. You stay on your side, faced away from him, as he lies on his back, resting a hand on his stomach.

“I’m trying to think of a boring story,” you say. You shake your head to yourself. “This is weird.”

“Weird?” he echoes, on edge that you’re regretting inviting him to sleep next to you.

“Yeah,” you admit. “My ex used to tell me that I talk too much. I’m still getting used to the idea that someone actually wants to hear me ramble.“

“He said that to you?” Rafe turns his head, looking at your silhouette in the dark.

You stare ahead, eyelids fluttering. It’s a hard subject, but you almost feel like you owe it to him. He was so vulnerable earlier tonight. You want to balance the scales.

“All the time,” you recall. The thought of that idiot berating you ignites rage in his core.

“It was like a power play or something,” you continue. “I think he liked to say things just to hurt me, then get me to forgive him. I… gave him too many chances. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to get me back.”

“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” Rafe says before even a second can pass.

You breathe out slowly. You know he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say. “I guess it’s easier to feel like I’m responsible in some way because then I’m not just a victim.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, a gap slowly opening.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve that.” The gap closes and your heart skips a beat. Rafe isn’t the type to say something just to say it. You know he really thinks that.

“Thank you.” You pick at a string on your duvet cover. Expecting him to open up is a losing game, but it’s one you can’t stop playing. “Have you been… in a relationship?”

You’ve never seen Rafe with a girl for longer than the duration of a party. But maybe he kept his commitments under wraps. He’s an expert at hiding from the world.

“No,” he says with a cynical chuckle. He’s hooked up loads of times. But a relationship? Not even close.

“Why not?” you ask. Despite his scary reputation, Rafe’s undeniably attractive. And some girls like the scary thing. Maybe you would if you didn’t know there was nothing to be scared of.

“Just haven’t,” Rafe answers. You stifle a sigh. It was a matter of time before he closed up again.

“So, um, I can talk about my day?” you offer. “You fell asleep to that last night. I’ll try not to be offended again.”

Rafe smirks at your joke and taps his fingers against his stomach. You never push him to talk. He appreciates it.

Brushing you off is a reflex. He doesn’t want it to be. You clearly spent more than enough time dealing with a jerk and he doesn’t need to be one to you, too. So, he decides to answer your question. Honestly, this time.

“I think it’s because I… just…” he begins, trying not to stammer, “I can’t stop how fast my thoughts are sometimes. I can’t control how mad I get. There’s no point in getting serious with a girl because the second she hears what my head sounds like, she’ll bail.”

The more you learn about who Rafe is today, the more it hurts. Does he think there’s nothing worth loving in him? That everyone will abandon him?

“The right girl won’t,” you say into the dark. “She’ll want to hear it all.” You hear Rafe chuckle in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically. His mind is a place of high highs and lower lows. He can hardly survive it himself. He couldn’t expect someone else to.

“It’s true.” You’d be that girl if he’d let you. But your very existence plagues him. You’ll never be that girl for him and he’ll never want you to be.

“I know people call me a psycho. They’re not far off,” he admits.

“You’re not that.” You don’t even want to say the word. “If you were, you would’ve laughed in my face when I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. But you didn’t. You’re here.”

You feel Rafe shift his weight. His back is to yours now.

“So, your day?” he says.

He’s done talking. And even though you’d like him to share his thoughts with you until sunrise, you’re relieved you actually got somewhere with him. Bit by bit, he’s baring his soul to you, and it’s just as gentle as you remember.

You tell Rafe about your time at the mall today, once again going into meaningless details just to make the story drag.

His heart is hammering in his ears as he lies in your bed, eyes shut, listening to you speak. He’s never admitted to anyone why he’s never wanted a girlfriend. Not even to his closest friends. If they ever asked, he’d say he wasn’t into commitment.

He can’t believe now that he said it out loud, it was to the one person he thought he’d spend the rest of his life avoiding.

Again, Rafe isn’t in bed when you wake up. You find him downstairs, waiting for you just like yesterday.

Before you lock the door behind him, he offers you a simple bye. It’s a reminder that even though he cried in front of you and kissed you and revealed why he won’t let anyone in, you’re still being kept at a distance.

It’ll be a hot day, so you make plans with friends to have lunch at the country club and spend the afternoon by the outdoor pool.

When you get to the pool deck and recline in a lounger, you notice a lot of other Kooks had the same idea today. Scattered along the poolside are groups of a lot of the people you see at parties, drinking and soaking in the scorching sun.

You’re instinctually looking for Rafe. When you spot him on the other side of the pool, sitting in a chair identical to yours, you immediately feel at ease.

It’s probably not a good idea to let your eyes linger on his toned, bare chest. But you do.

You wonder what these days will look like when all this is over and Ty stops pursuing you. Will you go back to seeing Rafe at rowdy parties and spontaneous events like these, hoping he’s okay, wishing you could talk to him but knowing he’ll treat you like a stranger?

You look away. Dwelling on this will only make you sad.

Later in the afternoon, you’re leaning back in your chair under the sun, beads of pool water sprinkled over your skin. You’ve been swimming with your friends most of the day, calm because Rafe is so close by.

Your eyes are closed as you relax in the sun. But then you hear his laugh. Ty’s laugh.

You stiffen immediately, sitting up straight, eyes darting around to match the nauseating sound to the face. Your heart is racing, playing back everything that’s happened in the past few days.

The creepy letter. The footsteps in front of your door. The way he mocked you on the beach, asking what you’ll do when Rafe’s not around to protect you.

“You okay?” your friend asks.

“Did you see...” you begin. You can’t waste another second. You don’t even grab your towel when you stand up.

You walk along the crowded pool, heading straight for Rafe.

When he sees you rushing over, your head frantically whirling to look behind you with every couple of steps you take, his body is injected with a blazing urgency.

Rafe swiftly rises from his seat, leaving his friends to watch him in confusion for leaving the conversation so suddenly.

He helps seal the distance between you and once you’re close enough, he takes your hand and leads you to the edge of the pool deck by an uninhabited rental booth.

You round the wall, earning privacy. Your bodies meet and you yield to him just like you did to your instincts, pressing your cheek against his chest and circling your arms around his torso.

Rafe hugs you back. Tightly. His skin is warm, not a drop of water on him, a sharp contrast to the clamminess clinging onto your skin and bathing suit.

“What happened?” he murmurs. He notices how fast your shoulders are skittering. You’re shaking against him.

“I thought I heard him,” you say. Now, thankfully, all you can hear are the thumps of Rafe’s heart over the roar of swarms of people swimming and sunbathing. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Rafe knows the feeling. He envelops you tighter. He hasn’t used his body to hold somebody like this… ever. He’s used to using it to inflict harm. To hurt. So why does this feel so natural?

“Do you want me to see if he’s here or do you want me to stay?” he asks.

“Stay,” you reply. You always wanted him to stay. His big arms remain wrapped around you, chipping away at the fear you rushed over here with.

Your bodies are curved into each other, his warmth radiating off of him. Rafe hasn’t left the poolside all day. He couldn’t risk a distraction. He needed to be there in case something happened to you. And something did.

And feeling you settle in his arms, the way your trembles start to disappear and your breath grows deeper, is worth it. He’d do anything to keep you safe. Anything.

Eventually, once your stress has become much more bearable, you pull back. Rafe’s hard blue eyes sweep over your face.

“I won’t let him near you, alright?” he says. His hands drag up to your face, palms pressed at your cheeks. You nod with wide, doleful eyes.

You exist in this moment together, like you did in your bed after your nightmare, like you did when you were alone on the beach last night, touching even though there’s nobody around to fool.

Then, Rafe pulls his hands off of you and once again, tension wedges its way between you. He steps back. So do you.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while?” he says gruffly, his stare on the ground now.

“Just you?” you ask. The hope in your voice floods him with sadness. Does the thought of being with his friends upset you that much?

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” you echo.

Your bare arms are an inch from touching as you sit together on the shallow edge of the pool, your legs dangling over in the water.

“I don’t even want to look if he’s here,” you confess, looking down at your thighs pressed against the concrete next to Rafe’s.

“I will,” he says. You see him look up from the corner of your eye. After a moment, he shakes his head. “He’s not.”

“Okay,” you breathe. It’s odd that Ty hasn’t been around. Maybe Rafe really did scare him off for good. “Thanks.”

You’d been in this pool as kids a few times. Not nearly as much as you were on the beach behind his house, but a few summer days, Rafe’s mom would bring you and her children here.

He was always protective of his sisters. You remember his boyish voice calling for his mom whenever Sarah started wading towards the deep end. Now, any time you see him with his sister, they’re snapping at each other.

Again, your mind spirals to who Rafe would be if he never suffered such a terrible loss. He’d probably be close to his siblings, instead of pushing everyone away.

You glance at him, taking in his blue eyes and freckled skin in the sun, and try to smile. But you can’t. A piece of your heart will always be missing because of what happened to him.

When you join your friends, the bright mood you arrived at the club with is gone.

You take a long, hot shower as soon as you’re home, deciding you’ll have a night in tonight. The day was too heavy to try to have any fun.

It’s nearly ten when you settle in front of the tv under a blanket. Just so Rafe doesn’t worry about you not showing up at your mutual friend’s party, you text him: i’m staying in tonight. don’t worry if you get here late. just call me and i’ll let you in.

He calls you within a minute.

“Hello?”

“Did something happen?” Rafe asks. He doesn’t have to be specific - he’s asking if Ty found a way to scare you again.

“No, I’m… just not in a partying mood,” you respond.

“Are you alone?”

You curl up under your blanket, hooking an arm around your legs.

“Yes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he asks, “Do you want to be?”

“No,” you admit.

You remotely open the gate when Rafe arrives minutes later, watching him come up the driveway on his motorcycle through the window.

When he settles on the other end of the couch in your living room, he snorts a laugh.

“Really?” he asks once he sees what’s on the screen.

“Be nice,” you quip. “It’s my comfort film.”

“Still?”

Your heart is in your throat. He remembers. You made him watch it with you once, years ago. You both talked through most of it.

“That’s the thing about comfort films, Rafe,” you reply. “They don’t change.”

He stretches his arms along the armrest and back of the couch, taking up all the space he wants to. He grew up to be so tall and big and powerful.

“Defensive,” he responds. You roll your eyes and smile.

As the movie continues, Rafe watches you and the only word he could use to describe how you look curled up on the couch is cute. His body reacted to your kiss, to the way your curves felt when you pressed up against him in that hug, because of course it did, but it’s more than that.

You’re pretty to him in the most innocent way and it’s like he’s a boy again, confused about how he could be so nervous around someone yet still want to be with them nonstop.

This is getting harder. He’s growing attached and he knows he shouldn’t for both of your sakes. Because you can both try to pretend you don’t have a history, but you do. It follows you around. You can’t outrun it.

“I can find something else to watch if you want,” you say. He tears his eyes off of you before you catch him staring.

“It’s fine,” he says. You nod and let yourself enjoy his company, even though it’s fleeting.

You sit up suddenly when you realize you dozed off. Your eyes find Rafe, who’s smirking at you.

“How long was I out?” you ask.

“How good can a movie be if you fall asleep?” he teases. You playfully nudge his knee with your foot. “Like, ten minutes. Not long.”

“I’m more tired than I thought,” you say.

“Probably from staying up late to talk,” Rafe replies.

“The price I pay for a bodyguard,” you say with a laugh. You rub your eyes. “Are you ready for bed?”

The casual way you ask the question in your fatigue almost makes him dizzy. It makes you sound like you’re a real couple.

Rafe trails you up the stairs and before he turns to change into his pajamas in the guest room, the gap in the wall of photos is glaringly obvious. You removed the framed picture of his mother.

“You took it down,” he says without thinking. He feels the comedown hitting him. Another low his mind is racing through.

The hallway is dim and you’re staring at his back now. You twist your hands together, jittery, like you’re about to take a test and saying one wrong thing will fail you.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “You don’t like reminders, right?”

Rafe’s body feels like it weighs a million pounds. He’s stuck. Heavy.

“Is that…” He shakes his head to himself. “Is that bad?”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” he says. It’s like pulling teeth, giving a voice to the thoughts that he’s always running away from.

“Not wanting reminders isn’t bad,” you say behind him. “If that’s what you mean.”

You feel like you’ve been wrung out. You’re a reminder. You step towards him, even though he’s facing away from you. You can’t help but want to touch him again.

When Rafe feels your hand cup his, he lets out a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t be trying to forget her,” he says. Fuck. Now that he’s started talking, it’s like he can’t stop. Why can’t he stop?

Your mind swirls as if you’re in a dream. He’s actually talking about his mom. You continue to stare at his back.

“I don’t think you are,” you whisper.

“How would you know?” he mutters sharply.

It’s a defence mechanism. You can tell. He’s trying to push you away. You won’t let him.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say. “But I think what you’re really trying to forget is how bad it hurts. Am I right?”

Rafe’s chest rises and falls with rough, shallow jolts. His heart pounds. His eyes wander over the space where the photo was.

“The last time I…” He’s unable to stop his rushed words. “The last time I had a chance to tell her, I didn’t. I just… I didn’t.”

“Tell her what?”

“That I loved her.”

Your throat goes dry.

“She knew,” you say. You grip his hand tighter. “Of course she knew.”

“She said it and I - I just didn’t say it back,” he stammers. “We hit the wall so hard and she - I know now that she knew she wasn’t going to make it. That’s why she told me she loved me. I didn’t say it back.”

Your heart thrashes against your ribs and your stomach turns with agony.

“Oh, my God. Were you…” you whisper. “Rafe, were you in the car?”

His eyes squeeze shut. He can still hear his mother asking are you okay? He answered yes and she said thank God, I love you and then he saw the way she was slumped over the steering wheel from where he sat in the backseat and he couldn’t speak from fear and he stopped believing in a God the second he heard her take her last breath.

That’s when he found his voice. He started screaming for her to wake up. She never did. It birthed a burning, merciless anger deep inside him that controls him to this day.

The last thing his mother did was make sure he knew he was loved. And he didn’t say it back.

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You heard very little about the accident. It was stormy. She hit a freeway barrier. She died before the ambulance arrived. Nobody ever went into any more detail and you didn’t want them to.

There’s a gaping hole in your chest. Rafe was there when she died. He was with her. You always wondered where he was when he learned she passed away. How he was told the horrifying news.

But nobody had to tell him. Your best friend watched his world end right in front of him, leaving him with pain he has been running from since.

He wriggles out of your grip. Speaking to you is making him live through it again. And if he keeps talking, he’ll say something he regrets.

“I’ll sleep on my own tonight,” he says, voice thin. You watch him disappear into the guest room.

You rush to your bedroom and shut the door so he doesn’t hear the heavy sobs that start to erupt out of you.

You pace around the room, aching from the inside out. Right now, you don’t picture Rafe as the man he is, protecting you, carrying a gun. You picture the boy. At the beach. In the car. At the funeral.

Like a tide reaching a shore, you gravitate towards him. If he rejects you, you can take it. But you can’t handle the thought of him needing someone and you not being there.

Rafe is sitting at the edge of the guest bed when you turn the door handle. You close the distance and sit beside him, wrapping your arms beneath his, tight around his body.

“You can tell me to go away,” you whisper against his back. “I promise I will if you want me to.”

You feel his chest filling and contracting with his harsh breaths. He hunches over, head in his hands.

“Go away,” he mutters. Just like when he was a kid. His voice is deeper now, but his words are the same.

The pain is sharp. It takes everything in you to let go of him. But you do. For what feels like the thousandth time, he denies you a place in his healing, the only thing you’ve ever truly wanted from him.

The tears welling in his eyes fall when he hears the door shut behind you. He can’t do this. He can’t relive it. He can’t disappoint you. He can’t open up all the way and tell you everything because if he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself or put himself back together.

You lie in bed, your chest hurting so bad that you’re not sure it’ll ever get better. It’s like for every step you take forward with Rafe, you take two back.

He held you, kept you from a panic attack today, but you don’t possess whatever it is you need to help him. He can keep you afloat, but you can’t return the favor.

He knows you care about him. He cried about it last night. Evidently, what you offer is still not enough.

He’s just down the hall, so close but at a distance. You pull up your duvet and wish he were beside you, falling asleep to the sound of your rambling.

But no amount of wishing for anything can make it come true. If there’s anything you’ve learned from your broken friendship with Rafe, it’s that.

(part six)

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