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pennylaneforthoughts · 3 years

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Lokius Hogwarts AU

All right my dudes, hot take time:

I’ve seen a lot of Hogwarts AU headcanons floating around, and having thought waaaaaay too much about it, I’m here to add my two cents.

( @sortinghatchats has my favorite sorting system I’ve seen to date, since it goes so much in depth into themes throughout the HP series that good ol’ JK barely touches on in her pretty surface level commentary on the subject, so that’s the system I’m gonna use. Go to their blog to learn more about the way the system works bc I’m too lazy to go more in depth than I already have.)

This is gonna be Hella Long tho so I’m putting it under a cut.

Loki: Petrified Slytherin Primary/Slytherin Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

Perhaps it may seem trite, but Loki really is a Slytherin Primary at heart. Yes he is ambitious and all that stereotypical stuff, but that’s not really what makes a Slytherin a Slytherin. Anyone can be ambitious. No, he’s a Slytherin because he unapologetically prioritizes himself and the people he cares about above all else.

“Slytherin Primaries are fiercely loyal to the people they care for most. Slytherin is the place where “you’ll make your real friends”– they prioritize individual loyalties and find their moral core in protecting and caring for the people they are closest to. Slytherin’s reputation for ambition comes from the visibility of this promotion of the self and their important people– ambition is something you can find in all four Houses; Slytherin’s is just the one that looks most obviously selfish.”

However, Loki’s trauma has pushed him to something this system calls Petrifying.

“Whether through death, betrayal, abandonment (from either side), or through never having had any to begin with, the Petrified Slytherin has decided that having important people is too dangerous. Having those strong ties leaves you open to pain and weakness, and the pleasure of those connections aren’t worth the despair that comes from their seemingly inevitable loss. In this way, they close themselves off to meaningful connections out of what is ultimately fear (though from the inside, it’s far more likely to be experienced as a rational, sensible decision given the circumstances of the world), and gives them a stony exterior that seems impenetrable, resolute, and cold.”

Loki wants love and acceptance so badly, but he is convinced that the kind of attachments and relationships that that comes from are far too dangerous and the risk isn’t worth the reward. He pushes people away, hides behind a mask of self-aggrandizement, and betrays others before they can betray him in an attempt to protect himself from potential pain.

In the series, however, we see him slowly unpetrify and move towards a more healthy style of attachment because of Mobius and Sylvie’s influence on him. Whereas his circle of priorities used to include only himself (and arguably Frigga and later, Thor, in the movie timeline), he proverbially “thaws” enough to let Mobius and Sylvie in, and tragically, because of that, the loss of them hurts him so deeply because by the end of season 1, they’re all he had.

His Slytherin Secondary, however, is obvious in his methodology. He’s the god of chaos. He loves improvisation, and plans only exist as long as another better idea doesn’t come along and usurp it. He’ll change and adapt (quite literally) to best fit the situation in front of him, and he takes joy in that. But beneath all the running and his many personas, he has his “neutral state” that he lets only a precious few see. Mobius gets to see it, and so does Sylvie, and as he progresses through the series, he starts to be more comfortable existing in that state where he’s no longer hiding behind everything he feels like the world expects him to be and he can just be himself.

Mobius: Slytherin Primary (Hufflepuff Model)/Hufflepuff Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

People like to put Mobius in Hufflepuff, but honestly? I don’t think that’s where he’d be most comfortable. Yes, he is kind and caring to basically everyone, and we see this over and over again in the series. The man radiates comfort. However, like it says in Inky and Kat’s description of the Slytherin Primary,

“Wanting to help someone doesn’t mean you’re loyal to them. Wanting to help them at the expense of your comforts, your values, your commitments and sometimes even yourself–that does.”

Mobius is kind to a fault. But he is not kind at the expense of himself. Not to everyone at least. He is kind to the child in France, but he is not kind to the point of saving him from the resetting of the timeline, and he doesn’t feel guilty about that. He believes in a duty of care, but he does not believe he has any obligation to go beyond what he thinks that duty of care is. He unapologetically plays favorites, and this is mentioned on multiple occasions. Above all else, Mobius values loyalty as a virtue. Sure, he cares about the TVA and its accompanying morality, and he genuinely does believe it’s his duty to care about and be kind to others. He seems to vibe quite well with the Hufflepuff ideal of caring about people simply because they are people, but this is all secondary to his personal loyalties when push comes to shove. For Mobius,

“dropping that model in order to stand by someone you love, or in order to protect yourself, doesn’t feel like a failing. Sticking to that modelled morality at the expense of betraying or abandoning one of their own would make a Slytherin feel guilty and wrong. Being able to put the things and concepts you like aside for the sake of the people who need you feels more righteous than any moral posturing.”

It’s for this very reason that Mobius gets so angry and feels so betrayed when he thinks Loki has abandoned him for Sylvie, and when Ravonna lies to him and prunes him.

“Betraying your own is the worst kind of crime. Loyalty is precious and terrible; it makes you vulnerable. It’s given sparingly, deeply, and a Slytherin will stand by their loyalties through the same death and fire that a Gryffindor would brave for the sake of doing the right thing, or a Hufflepuff to help someone in need.”

Loki is Mobius’ own. Mobius prioritizes Loki over almost everything else, sticks his neck out for him over and over again, and is willing to sacrifice his own happiness for him. He’s even willing to abandon the whole of his former ideology and prior friendships for this relationship that has become closer to him than his own self, the highest tier of trust and loyalty a Slytherin can give.

“It’s an extreme Slytherin who would let the whole world burn for the sake of a friend, but every Slytherin Primary would be at the very least tempted.”

And Mobius very nearly does exactly that. Even says the words, “burn it to the ground” when Loki asks him what he’s going to do. And he doesn’t feel bad about it. Especially after realizing what the TVA has done to him and the people he cares about. He kicks the TVA out of his circle of care, and doesn’t look back. And he does it for Loki.

Mobius’ Secondary is where people get his Hufflepuff vibes from, I think. A Hufflepuff secondary is marked by “their consistency and the integrity of their method. They’re our hard workers. They build habits and systems for themselves and accomplish things by keeping at them. They have a steadiness that can make them the lynchpin (though not usually the leader) of a community.” And that is what Mobius is. It’s why he radiates that kindness and comfort. He quietly and carefully works at and invests in the relationships in his life to the point that people almost automatically trust him, and over time he has learned how to read people and figure out what makes them tick.

He approaches new situations with a steady head and gentle hand that Loki is unused to, and it’s this approach that eases Loki into learning how to trust and rely on people. It’s an inherently Hufflepuff approach, and it’s the key to his success as an analyst for the TVA and an understanding friend for Lokis across the timelines.

Tl;dr - Application to an actual Hogwarts AU fic:

THEREFORE! There’s a compelling narrative to be had with a tiny, first-year Loki coming into Hogwarts. He comes from a pureblood family that’s very proud of their Gryffindor heritage (they don’t talk about Hela, and Loki and Thor don’t even know she exists until later in this story), and his brother had been sorted into Gryffindor a couple years prior, and Loki has heard very little other than contempt for Slytherin House and everyone in it. Loki doesn’t want to be sorted into Slytherin. He doesn’t want to deal with the disappointment and shame from his father and the sad eyes of his brother. But the sorting hat sorts him there almost immediately, and his heart sinks. He wanders over to the table miserably but determined. If he’s gonna be sorted into the “evil” house, might as well just run with it, right? Best not to get close to people though. It’s Slytherin. Who knows when someone will betray you.

Enter Mobius, the tiny muggleborn, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and having no clue about the prejudices between houses. The hat takes a hot minute sorting him, giving him the choice between Hufflepuff and Slytherin and telling him Hufflepuff would love a kindhearted and welcoming member like him. But Mobius has been eyeing the little black-haired kid who got sorted before him and is now sitting far apart from everyone, and he can’t help but feel like he needs to be this kid’s friend. And didn’t the hat just say Slytherin is where you’ll make your real friends? Friends are what Mobius cares about, so he’d like to go to Slytherin, thank you very much, so that’s where he goes, and he happily plunks himself down right next to Loki and sticks his hand out.

“I’m Mobius. What’s your name?”

Loki looks at Mobius’ hand disdainfully and doesn’t shake it, but he does answer, “Loki.”

Mobius’ eyes go wide, and he smiles. “Loki? Like after the Norse god?”

Loki nods, eyeing Mobius suspiciously. People don’t often bat an eye at his name. Not in the wizarding world, anyway.

“Wow, that’s so cool! I loved reading about Norse mythology in school and Loki was always my favorite. Names have power, you know. If you’ve got the same name, then you must be just as awesome.”

Loki has no idea what to do with this kid, but he’s immediately aware of two things:

He’s absolutely sure that this Mobius kid is in the wrong house. No way a Slytherin can be this excited without a single hint of deception in his face.

He’s going to be eaten alive by the other students if Loki doesn’t protect him. What a pain.

Loki is completely wrong on both of these points.

#lokius #loki x mobius #wowki #loki #mobius #loki 2021 #look i've thought WAY too hard about this and i just need a slytherin mobius who subverts everyone's expectations about what a slytherin is #while still being 100% obviously a slytherin when you think about it

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levirise · 3 years

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way late but hey, my name is jj and i’m here to introduce you to my literal piece of trash of a son AKA levi rise. there’s no triggering content, he’s just an asshole. if you read this then thank you and at the exact same time, i’m so sorry... ✌️☮️ feel free to pm me any time! we’re going to pretend he’s been on this trip being a dick the entire time as i’m now up to date with things

INTRODUCING...

LEVI RISE has been accepted to participate ! they are a 27 year old all the way from JERSEY, UNITED STATES . HE is currently studying NUTRITION AND FITNESS at the interchange. ( jj, 26, he/him, michael evans behling )

PERSONALITY...

levi only cares about himself, he’s only nice if the moment takes him or he feels like he has something to gain. he is in general a selfish and unpleasant person to be around and he does not care at all. in his opinion, respect is earned and it’s hella hard to earn his (bordering on impossible). he keeps his circle small and it’s probably more dangerous if you’re allowed in it than if you’re on the outskirts. he’d take out his own parents as collateral damage if they stood in the way of his dreams. what is his dream? good question, depends on the mood of the day. very negative personality (the man does not like growth, dudes). he’s generally a bad person but not an evil one. he has no real evil intent and half the time is like ew, get over it, stop having emotions and stuff it’s really annoying me.

STORY...

shortest story in the world, born and bred in jersey, oldest son of a regular middle class couple who made their money late in life... he has two younger siblings who are just as pig headed as him (except they grew up rich and he grew up... in the middle of regular and having money).

levi was literally an unbearable competitor from birth until now, he loved sports and was ruthless in pretty much any scenario to the point that he was kicked off some teams. still, there was always someone who would endorse him and allow him a spot where he could continue his reign of terror.

levi was briefly lined up to be one of the new jersey devils until he had a public sex scandal that got him pulled. he was butt hurt but he also didn’t apologise or regret his actions so that was that (his girlfriend was also not really happy considering the scandal didn’t involve her). levi thought, two birds with one stone, who needs ‘em! that’s just normal attitude when things don’t go his way.

anyway, now he’s here and has been since whenever it started and his plans mainly consist of miserably getting his degree and hating everyone.

WANTED CONNECTIONS...

a friend. i guess someone must be able to stand him but it’s probably bc they don’t care what he does either.

tutor. he’s probably a terrible student because he always thinks he’s right even when he’s wrong.

ex. someone he has a terrible, awful, possibly traumatic relationship with. he probably cheated on them more than once and doesn’t really give a rats ass. *levi vc* ew, stop being sad, it’s really killing the vibe!

hateship. they have sex but they probably hate him and who’s to blame them? not me! not sure if it’d develop much further bc he is..... terrible

summer romance. not too romantic though, more like... he was nice for a weekend and then when he got in there he was like sorry, who are you?

i’m pretty much open to him being an asshole in any way possible to any person possible for no real reason..... i hate him and y’all can too ❤️

#intropost

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years

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Child’s Play

Summary: She will only ever be seen as a child in Tommy’s eyes. That’s what she gets for being Finn’s friend. No matter, her feelings for the man refuse to fade. Finn tried to help her, tried to get something out of his brother, but the man was unbreakable. Y/n decides that maybe it’s time to move and the best way to do that is to avoid him. If she can’t see him then he can’t bother her, right? Wrong. You can’t avoid Thomas Shelby.

Request: Helloo can i request an imagine where the reader is way younger than tommy(maybe around finn's age or between him or john)works for him and has a major crush on him but she's vv insecure bc of her age, grace has already died, and because it's very hard to figure out if tommy likes her or not, so she gets sad bc she really wants to be with him and have children other than his own

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Lanuage, age gap

A/N: I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. Sure, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it to, but it’s pretty good either way. Oneshot requests are still closed and I wish you guys would respect that. It’s not all of you, just some. I want to have all my oneshot requests done before I open requests back up and I can’t do that if people keep sending them in.

Masterlist

Life was hard.

That was a common fact that everyone knew. Y/n didn’t believe herself to be any the wiser for knowing that one simple thing. It just made life easier to deal with. When the market was out of apples or her seamstress ruined her favorite dress, she simply remembered that life is hard. That meant that not everything was supposed to go her way. She didn’t fret over anything, knowing it wasn’t worth it. Life was hard and if it was meant to happen then it would happen.

However, she was young and naive, and those words didn’t always mean as much as they should have.

Her life became extremely hard when she started working for Thomas Shelby. Y/n had been a friend of his youngest brother’s, Finn, since they were children. The two would often be found creating havoc throughout the streets of Small Heath along with the other children they’d befriended. Y/n never spent much time at the Shebly household, though. Her mother always wanted her home in time for supper with enough time to get chores done before the table was set.

Finn and Y/n were close, not as close as Finn and Isiah were, but they were close nonetheless. And Finn cared enough to get her a job at his family’s company when she was old enough. It was a sweet offer that she couldn’t pass up. Her parents didn’t bring in much money and what was brought in her father usually spent on beer. So with shaking hands, she entered Thomas Shelby’s office and accepted the job.

She wasn’t given an easy job, being one of Tommy’s secretaries, but not for the reason she would have thought.

“Don’t tell me it’s still bothering you,” Finn rolled his eyes, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. The two sat across from each other in his family’s private room at the Garrison. It was one of Y/n’s days off and it had been a slow day for Finn so he decided the two needed a drink. Being early in the day, just around noon, the pub was empty except for them.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips. “Yeah, I mean I see him every day. What am I supposed to do, forget about him?”

Her friend nodded and handed her a drink.

She scoffed, taking the drink. Looking down at the amber liquid, she said, “You just don’t get it, Finn. I know I don’t stand a chance. Fuck, every woman in fucking Small Heath has fallen for your brother. I’m not special and I know that, but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“God, you really like him, don’t you?” he shook his head, a smile on his lips.

Y/n nodded, taking a sip of her drink. She hated how she felt. She had always been an emotional person. Not everything made her cry, but it wasn’t hard to have tears prick her eyes. She hated being confronted or yelled at because the tears always showed up and didn’t know when to take their leave. And that didn’t change when she started to feel something towards her employer. Those feelings were always present and could never leave her alone. Y/n tried her best to keep it from interfering with her work, but it was hard when the man was always around her.

Y/n hated that she loved, not liked, Thomas Shelby.

“Yeah, I do,” she mumbled more to herself than Finn.

At first, she hadn’t even realized she was falling for the man. But over time, Finn started to notice something was off. He had known her long enough to know when something was wrong and something was definitely wrong. Y/n would have thought that he would be upset with her for liking his brother, but he simply laughed. Honestly, if she was in his position, she would have to. Since then, Finn went out of his way to tease her about it.

“I could probably talk to him for you,” Finn offered, giving her a small encouraging smile.

Y/n shook her head. “I don’t need you to do that, Finn. It’s my problem, not yours.” There was a short pause while she sipped at her whiskey. “I can barely talk to him on my own, it wouldn’t be worth having you do anything.”

He laughed, “Did you ever think that it’s him and not you? Tommy is shit at communicating with people, doesn’t matter who it is. And have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“He has only ever seen me as a child,” she scoffed. “And he lets me know every day.”

“You know he’s not good with feelings, right?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wished she was as distant when it came to emotions as the man she loved. It would probably make life miserable, but not as miserable as she was at the moment. “What about Grace, uh? He still loves her. And what about Charlie? Tommy seems to be content with what he has.”

Finn leaned forward, looking his friend dead in the eye. “Grace was everything he was looking for in a woman, but that doesn’t make it love. She betrayed him and didn’t do much for Tommy but give him a son. That’s it. He’s moved on.” He shifted in his seat. “Tommy deserves someone real and Charlie deserves a mother. I hate to say this, but I hope it’d be you. You care a lot about Tommy and his wellbeing and if he can’t see that then fuck him.”

Maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t. Y/n had no clue, but she hoped that there was truth to what Finn had said. She hoped that something would happen. It was stupid, she felt like a school girl all over again, waiting for her crush to make a move. She just hoped that there was some truth to those words, maybe then she stood a chance.

*~~*~~*

A few days later, Finn had found himself over at Tommy’s house, helping him look over plans for a new stable. John and Arthur were supposed to be there, but they both had family matters to deal with. It didn’t matter, though, as the work was small and gave more time for drinking.

Sitting in one of the house’s many sitting rooms, Finn leaned back in his chair while he watched his brother fetch a bottle of whiskey. The conversation he’d had with Y/n days earlier was still at the front of his mind. He felt bad for her, for the position she was stuck in. Finn knew all too well how hard it was to fall for someone and he remembered Y/n telling him almost the same thing he had told her the other day. He wanted to do something for her, help her out any way he could, but what was he to do? There was little that could be done when it came to his cold, distant brother. Few could get through to him and even fewer could read what he was thinking. But Finn was certain of one thing, the way Tommy looked at Y/n. It was more loving than how he had once looked at Grace. It wasn’t lust, it was love. It was more than just one emotion. It was happiness, love, lust. Anything that sparked joy, that is what his eyes showed when he looked at Y/n. Finn knew his brother felt something for his friend and he was going to get him to admit it.

Tommy reappeared with a full bottle of whiskey and poured himself and his brother a glass. He handed one to Finn before taking a seat across from him. “Are you ready to go to the races?”

Finn looked over at him and shrugged. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been before. “I suppose.”

“There shouldn’t be any problems this time,” his brother commented. Mentioning the races gave the youngest Shelby an idea. “Could Y/n come then?”

Tommy raised a brow, sipping at his drink. “Why?” his voice was flat, not exposing anything.

“Why not? She’s never been and if it’s supposed to be calm then I don’t see why not,” he explained.

“No.”

Finn frowned and rolled his eyes. “Come on Tommy, why?”

The older brother sighed in frustration. “Because she’s never been and she would just be a distraction for you. Y/n’s practically a child as it is, she’d just get in the way.”

“She the same age as I am! Why can I go but she can’t?”

“Because this is family business and you’re family!” Tommy almost shouted at him. “Y/n probably wouldn’t want to be around a bunch of Peaky Blinders as it is.”

A laugh escaped the younger brother’s lips causing Tommy to frown and set his glass down. “Are you blind or something?” Finn asked, laughing. “Are you? Do you not see that she likes you? It’s very fucking obvious! The fucking king would even notice! Not to mention, you seem to feel the same way. So, why don’t you invite her and make a date out of it?”

Tommy rolled his eyes and decided to stare out the window. He was silent for a long while, Finn sitting restless opposite of him. “She’ll get over it. They always do.”

Finn sighed in defeat. He wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to accomplish but it wasn’t going to happen. Nothing was going to happen. Thomas Shelby was a brick wall, that was how Finn could best describe him. A brick wall that nothing could penetrate. You could throw things over it, but more often than not, everyone fell short.

Now, what was he going to tell Y/n? He tried, he really did, but there was no breaking Thomas Shelby. He was a selfish bastard that only cared about his own wellbeing. Sure, he’d tell people everything he did was for them, but it was nothing but a lie. He only ever cared about himself.

*~~*~~*

It had been a few weeks since Finn and Y/n had talked in the Garrison and things with Tommy hadn’t improved at all. In fact, they had somehow gotten worse. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but the man was more distant than normal. But only towards her. He never called her into his office to go over paperwork like he used to, instead asking for Lizzie. And he did his best to keep her out of things. Everything she used to be a part of, she was shut out of.

Y/n tired to think nothing of it at first. Tommy was a strange man and his mood changed with the wind. It wasn’t worth it to read into anything. But then there came a point when she had enough and wanted nothing more than to confront Tommy. She told Finn about it but he simply told her to leave it alone, that it wasn’t worth bringing up to his brother, so she didn’t.

Instead, with all the newfound time on her hands, she was given time to rethink her life. She no longer wanted to be hung up on a man who would never love her back. Why waste her time when there were plenty of men who wanted her? Y/n laughed thinking about all the times she had refused men’s advances because she thought that Tommy would come around. Foolish. Fucking stupid. She was wasting her life and she just couldn’t do that any longer.

So, she wasn’t going to.

Y/n then started to go on dates, they were boring, but it was better than sitting at home, feeling sorry for herself. Some of them worked in the factories, covering dust, and others were businessmen that wanted nothing to do with Small Heath. It was too poor for them, too dirty, too this, too that. It always made her wonder why they wanted anything to do with her as she was a great example of what came from Small Heath. No matter how many dates she went on, though, she found nothing she liked. But she just had to wait it out, the right one would come.

She was only 19, she had time to find someone and settle down. But there was only one man she wanted to do that with.

In the back of her mind, she still had feelings for Tommy, but if she never spoke of them, then she believed they weren’t real. He no longer caused her problems and was only apart of her work life. And as Tommy started to distance himself from her in the office, she decided to do the same. It would help her move on because being hung up on that man would be the death of her if she didn’t.

Putting her finished paperwork in a file, Y/n placed it in a bin on her desk for Tommy to look at later. She stood from her chair, placing a few files on Lizzie’s desk for her to go over the next day and started to clean her own. The door to Tommy’s office opened, but she didn’t hear it close, telling her he was lurking in the doorway, something he was known to do.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated.

Y/n shrugged, not bothering to look up at him. “Only because you have.”

He was silent for a second, searching his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. Once found, he dragged it between his lips before placing it between them and liting a match. “It’s nothing personal, Y/n. Just business.”

She scoffed, searching for her bracelet that had fallen off earlier in the day. She thought it landed in one of her drawers, but they were both empty. “Oh, yeah, I figured,” she spat. “Everythings always about business to you.”

Try as he might, Tommy couldn’t fool her. Y/n knew what it was like to not be welcome. To be pushed away. Most of her life, her father wanted nothing to do with her and he often did what Tommy was doing now. Without saying anything, he would just leave her out of things and when she was in the room, he would keep her out of the conversation. The girl was used to it at home, but she didn’t like the treatment at work. And not from someone she cared about.

“I’m glad you understand.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and finally looked up at him. “You’re glad I understand? Understand what? That you’re a fucking arsehole? Yeah, I’m glad I understand that.”

“Y/n I-” he was cut off before he could say anything more.

“I’ve been avoiding you because you’ve been avoiding me. And I know Finn talked to you, I’m not stupid and that boy is shit at keeping secrets! So, how about you just tell me how you feel instead of keeping me from my work? I’d rather know the truth than be treated like shit!”

Tommy didn’t say anything, he just stood there, blank face and all. It was hard to read him, but Y/n didn’t even bother, if he couldn’t give her an answer then she wanted nothing to do with him.

“Forget it,” she mumbled and grabbed her coat off the hook. Shrugging it on, she headed for the door, leaving Tommy standing in the doorway of his office.

The man let out a sigh once he saw her slip out the office door. Pushing himself off the door, he went after her. He didn’t know what he was going to say as he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions, but he couldn’t let her leave like that. He’d seen what pushing her away had done, Y/n was miserable yet she pretended to be cheerful and happy. It broke his heart that he had caused that and Finn made sure he knew it.

“Y/n wait,” he jogged after her once on the street.

She sighed, turning around as he came to a stop. “What now? You want to tell me it’s childish to be upset over this? That it’s just fucking life? What Tommy?”

He shook his head. “No, no. None of that. I just…” He let out a sigh. This was one conversation he should have thought through first. “I like you I do. Fuck, I might even love you, but I can’t risk it. Not with what happened to Grace, not with what’s happened to everyone around me. I can’t do that to you.”

“You can’t do that, but you forget it’s not just your choice. Everyone in your life has chosen to be there no matter what happens,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m Finn’s friend, I work for you, so no matter what I’m at risk. So don’t give me that bullshit.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/n,” he sighed, a look of defeat in his eyes. “I would rather see you sitting at your desk, alive, then dying in my arms somewhere down the road.”

Y/n laughed, giving him a small smile. Tommy raised a brow at the action, unsure what caused such a reaction. “Life happens, Tommy. We can’t predict it and we can rarely change it. It’s not worth fretting over especially when you’re not in control. But I know how I feel,” she told him. “I love you and I’ve tried not to, but it doesn’t work like that. I love you, Tommy, and I could see a life with you, but if you can’t see that then fine. Just tell me and you never have to hear about it again.”

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette, processing her words. He looked around, distracting himself with the people on the street. Was he ready to risk it? Was he ready to willingly put his heart on his sleeve for a woman again? He wanted a life with Y/n, she was smart, beautiful, and caring. Tommy could honestly see himself with her and maybe down the road, they would have a few kids. “Come one.”

He tugged on her arm and started walking away. Y/n quickly fell in step beside him. Looking over at him, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“To dinner and I promise I’ll stop pushing you away if you do the same.”

A smile lite up Y/n’s face. She honestly didn’t think she’d get through to him, but the man was full of surprises. She knew that it would take Tommy time to adjust to being in a relationship, she understood that, but she was willing to wait.

*~~*~~*

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rawmeanderson · 4 years

Text

pretty please ― thursday.

ft. Kevin Hayes.

plot: with Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy all gone from New York and the new season about to start, everyone gets together for a long weekend. warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of anxiety/depression. word count: 4.9k notes: this is a slight AU I suppose, in the sense that the pandemic doesn’t exist here bc escapism, y’know? basically, this takes place in August 2020, where there was no pause and the season ended normally. also, this is kind of forgetting the fact that Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy didn’t live together during the last season they were all together in New York but whatever. Y/N is also plus sized!! title is from Pretty Please by Dua Lipa. there’s also more notes at the end!

Rain was hitting the windshield, the sky gloomy and grey as leaves on the trees outside the car. At least the weather was playing into your mood.

“Last time I checked, this was the only rain we’re supposed to get all weekend thankfully,” Sophie said from the driver’s seat as she adjusted the speed of the wiper blades. When she glances at you, you force a slight smile, nodding in acknowledgement. She looks like she wants to say something else but doesn’t, and you turn your head to look out the window.

The dread and disinterest swimming in your stomach, the car ride that seemed to go on endlessly reminded you of all the times your mother had driven you to your dad’s during the summers. You’d sat in the passenger seat then just like you are now, anxious, irritated, and on the verge of begging her to turn around.

You hadn’t wanted to come on this trip, knowing it was meant to be a last hurrah of sorts. Thursday to Sunday at a lake with friends sounded great in theory, but the changes that would be happening in the weeks that followed were what scared you. The finality of it all.

“I’m glad you decided to come, Y/N,” Sophie told you, and you could feel her glance at you again. She had been your roommate for almost 10 years now, since the start of college, and she knew you were doing your best not to spiral.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, opting to nod like you had earlier as your gaze drifted to your lap. Running your tongue along your teeth, you tried to think of something to say that would ease the tension in the vehicle. Un-crossing your legs, you shift in your seat slightly as you hear Sophie exhale a quiet sigh through her nose.

She knows your feelings aren’t personal, that you’re not blaming her for moving on with her life, but your general sadness about all of it weighed on her either way. She was right there, but that didn’t stop the preemptive pangs of loneliness that hit your stomach.

In the last two years, every person you’d spent most of your time with had left New York, until Sophie was the last one. And in two weeks, you’d be the only one left, leaving you feeling as grey and sad as the weather outside.

After chewing on the inside of your cheek for a while, you pick a piece of invisible lint off the fabric of your shorts. You’d meant to buy new ones before the trip since most of your pants cut into your waist anymore, fueling your self-consciousness. “I’ll...I’m sure I’ll feel a little better once we’re there and I’ve been able to take a nap,” you tell her, trying your best to sound optimistic about it. Blaming your bad mood and distantness on being tired, classic.

Sophie glanced at you and nodded, accepting what you’d said despite knowing you as well as she does.

It would’ve been hard to argue about it, considering you’d both been up before 5am to make this 4 hour drive. You’d left the city around 6, the car packed with the bags for the weekend, plus a good number of totes of Sophie’s stuff for Jimmy to take back to Buffalo with him. There was still about an hour left in the drive, and the iced coffee you’d chugged at the start of the drive had done nothing but make your heart race soar as you fidgeted in your seat.

Sophie had always been the early bird, with the two of you poised to be some of the first people to arrive at the lake. Jimmy and one of his buddies had gotten there last night, with everyone else slated to show up in the early afternoon. The only reason you’d agreed to leave so early was because Sophie promised to let you nap as long as you wanted once you got there. You were grateful that would allow you to avoid people for a while.

For what was left of the drive, Sophie didn’t speak, letting you sit there in your tired sadness as music hummed through the speakers.

When you parked at the massive cabin overlooking a lake that stretched as far as you could see, it was still raining. The sky was just as grey, and it gnawed at you, the perfect cinematic backdrop for what felt like the beginning of the end.

Your mood was sour, and as you unfastened your seatbelt to exit the car, you felt goosebumps rise along your skin even though it was warm out despite the rain. The same worry you’d had the whole drive was still swirling through your head, that your mood and your emotions would put a damper on the trip. You hoped that a nap would help calm those fears.

Jimmy was already on his way out to greet you and Sophie, his smile fixed on your roommate as you open the back door to grab your bag. He approaches with a grin as you’re already making your way toward the cabin.

“Take any room you want,” he tells you, like he already knows that you’re going for a nap. You salute him in acknowledgement, deciding to greet him better later as he continues on to greet his girlfriend.

Your shirt is covered in raindrops by the time you get inside, glancing around curiously. There’s a couple of people hanging out on the sofas that you don’t recognize, but they wave to you either way then go back to their conversation.

After wandering down the hall, you nudge open a door and decide that the room is good enough. There’s a window looking out over the lake, and even as grouchy and sad as you’re feeling, you know it’ll be a gorgeous view when it’s not so gloomy outside. You close the door behind you and unceremoniously drop your bag on the floor while kicking off your shoes. Collapsing into the middle of the bed, you sigh, running on auto pilot as you pull the blankets over yourself.

Shifting around slightly, you’re aware of how the shorts are cutting into your waist and your bra is pinching somewhere, but you’re too settled to do anything about it as you stare up at the wood paneled ceiling. The sound of the rain hitting the roof is soothing, and you let out a breath that seemed to have been held since the moment you got in the car.

Your eyes trace the woodgrain, remembering when Sophie told you about Jimmy’s roommates shortly after she got with him, that they were funny, cool guys that she knew you’d get along with. You’d partied with them first, but it turned into movie nights, casual dinners, enjoying the group of newfound friends that you saw several times a week. With how often you ended up hanging out late or bar hopping in their area, the guest room had practically been designated as yours.

Then Kevin was traded to Winnipeg. Then Jimmy was traded to Buffalo. Then Brady was traded to Carolina. Your found family in the city had practically dissolved within a year, and now Sophie was two weeks away from moving to Buffalo.

You knew there was little choice in the matter for anyone really, that it wasn’t their fault, that it was just how worked, but it still hurt, remembering you’d be the last one of the group in New York. You had other friends that you saw every so often, but it didn’t stop how lonely it all made you feel. Being sad about it made you feel selfish, so you buried it behind frequent naps and iced coffee.

Your internal monologue continued until tears stung in your eyes, and you blinked them away, turning on your side as you willed yourself to get some rest.

By the time you woke up, it was mid-afternoon, and you stayed curled up on your side for a moment. Sun was streaming in through the window as you took a deep breath. You could hear people outside, along with splashing from the lake, and when you rolled over, you saw somebody zip past in a jet ski. After a taking a few minutes to scroll through your phone, you finally get up, stretching as you smooth your hair down.

You came out of your room and found Jimmy and Sophie in the kitchen. Yawning as you approached, Sophie smiled.

“Good nap?” she asked knowingly, and you nodded once you were close enough to hug her.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said, arms wrapped around her. She hugged back tightly, rubbing a hand between your shoulder blades before you pulled away.

You felt better. The nap and the better weather helped kick the sadness out of you. You hated this part, feeling better and realizing how cynical you’d been earlier.

“Good to see you, Slim Jim,” you told Jimmy, hugging him quickly as well. You were happy to see him, deciding to focus on enjoying and savoring the long weekend with everyone instead of being miserable with sadness. Leaning back against the edge of the counter, feeling content, you smile. “Who all showed up when I was out?”

“Uh, some friends of mine, Derek and Amy, showed up, Kev too, and he brought a friend,” he said, glancing down at the water like he couldn’t even remember who was there. “Brady’s about an hour or so out.”

The three of you chat for a while, catching up since it had been awhile since you’d seen Jimmy. He introduces you to the friends of his that were splitting the cabin for the weekend when they come through, and a moment later, you promise to catch up more later, deciding to head outside for a bit.

Outside, the sun beats down on you but you lift your chin to greet the warmth as you walk. It felt particularly good after the heavy rain of the drive in, the humidity from it clinging to the air still.

Making your way to the dock, someone you hadn’t met is standing there, football in hand. Kevin’s on the back of a jet ski with someone else driving, and it didn’t surprise you at all to see him jump off for the football when the man on the dock through it. No surprise, he missed the ball and landed in the water with a splash, and was already laughing when he resurfaced a moment later.

That’s when he spots you, hand shooting up in a wave with a wide smile. “Heyo!” he yells, already swimming toward the dock. You could hear the excitement in his voice, and nervousness pangs in your stomach.

You had only seen him once since he’d been traded a year and a half ago, when he’d been in town for a game and you hadn’t even realized it. Sophie had invited you out, and there he was, happy as ever to see you. You were grateful that the bar had been loud and that Brady had been occupying most of Kevin’s attention. After a drink and a half and a quick conversation with Sophie, you’d taken off, managing to avoid Kevin other than the hug he’d given you as a greeting.

Since Jimmy and Sophie were together and Brady had Gracia, you and Kevin had been the odd couple out, paired together during group activities. It worked out at least, considering the two of you got along great.u seldom hung out once When all three of the guys lived together, the two of you always seemed to be the last two up, chatting or finishing a movie even after the others had gone to bed.

It had felt so natural to hook up with Kevin the handful of times it had happened in the months leading up to when he was traded. Each time had been when you were both the last two awake, lingering on the sofa, usually at least a little drunk. It had always been casual, and you told yourself the only reason it happened (and kept happening) were out of convenience. You’d certainly never seemed like his type, considering almost every girl you’d ever seen him talk to at a bar had the same slender build and the confidence that came with it.

You snapped yourself out of the thoughts, and tug at the fabric of your shirt self-consciously, feeling like it’s clinging to all the wrong parts of your body. Kevin’s eyes are on you still as he climbed the ladder to meet you on the dock, making you feel even more aware of yourself. He paused to grab a towel off the rail, rubbing it over his hair, then settling it over his shoulders. His swim shorts hung low on his hips and you force yourself to meet his eye, happy to see that he was smiling widely at you as he approached.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, sounding as sincere as you could ever imagine. It felt like his smile had grown, and it made it impossible for you not to mirror the expression right back to him. “I’d hug you, but in case you didn’t notice, I was just in the lake.” You had forgotten how deep his voice was, and you tell yourself that it’s the sun that’s making you feel hot all over.

“I’m good with a rain check,” you responded, nodding at him. From the golden tone of his skin, you can tell he’s been outside a lot this summer. He looked great, as always, and you hadn’t expected anything less.

“Good by me,” he told you with a laugh, bringing a hand out to ruffle your hair in lieu of a hug. You laugh with him, not quick enough to stop him. “How’s life been? Man, I feel like I haven’t seen or heard from you in forever.” You don’t let yourself think about his tone, how he almost sounds a little sad about it.

You shrug quickly in response to his question, still grinning. “Things are okay. Nothing’s really been going on, I guess. I miss you guys though.” Your hand comes up to shield the sun from your eyes, tilting your head up to see him better. He’s so tall that looking at him heads on would have you staring at the bit of hair that covers his chest, at how broad his shoulders are, and you were worried that you’d never stop if you started. “What about you? How’s Philly?”

“I miss New York, but damn, Philly’s been great, I can’t even lie about it,” he admitted with a bit of a laugh. It was good to know that he’s happy, and you can feel it radiating off of him. “It’s a good city, and a good group of dudes. And this guy, over here,” he paused, voice a little louder as he motions behind him to the guy who’d thrown the football, “is Nolan. We lived together this year.”

Nolan looked at the two of you, holding up a hand to wave before turning his attention back to talking to one of Jimmy’s friends that’s floating in an inner-tube close to the dock. You were both silent for a moment then before whoever was on the jet ski yelled Kevin’s name, waving for him to come back out.

“You should come swim,” Kevin told you, motioning to whoever it was that he’d be there in a minute.

Your eyebrows rose and you were quick to shake your head, even before self-consciousness dug its claws into you. “Nah, not right now at least,” you said, dismissing the idea with a wave of your hand. “I just came down to say hey, I’m actually going to go chill on the deck and read for a while, I think.”

For a short second, Kevin looked a little disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He instead nodded, smiling again already as his hand came up to your shoulder. “Yeah, gotcha.” It’s hard to ignore how large his hand is on you, the way he squeezes just slightly, his thumb brushing against your collarbone. “We’ll catch up more later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you told him, doing your best not to lean into his hand. Thankfully, he stepped away before your willpower went out, and you watched as he damn near sprinted back to the edge of the dock, jumping into the water in an effort to splash a friend.

You stopped in the cabin to grab your iPad, and on your way out to the back deck, a girl who introduced herself as Amy put a margarita in your hand and hugged you like she’d known you for years. It was a damn good margarita too, you realized as you settled on a lounge chair, stretching your legs out in front of you.

The rest of the afternoon ticks by easily. The margarita is rather strong, relaxing you into the chair as you read for the next hour and a half until Brady showed up. You’d been able to hear laughter and the occasional shouting from the water every so often, Kevin’s voice usually the loudest. Brady, Sophie, and Jimmy joined you on the deck a while later, and the four of you take the time to catch up a little more and figure out how to spend the next few days.

The sun had just stating to set when pizza arrived for dinner. The air is still warm, and someone was already working on starting a bonfire. Sophie was to your right at the picnic table, a little tipsy as she munched on some garlic bread.

Across the table, Brady was talking about his upcoming nuptials. Gracia hadn’t been able to make it for the trip, but you were glad he’d decided to come. Next to him, Kevin interjected with a dumb comment at one point, making Jimmy snicker.

“By the way, Kev, do you need a plus one? Have you been seeing anybody?” Brady asked, turning his head to look at him rather pointedly. It takes everything you have not to snicker a bit, lifting a slice a pizza to your mouth.

“Naah, I’m not seeing anyone,” Kevin responded, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m sure I could find someone to go with, but I haven’t really dated much since Y/N.”

You freeze when he says your name, your mouth already half open to take a bite. What the fuck is he talking about?

“We never dated,” you said, the words more sharp than you’d meant them to be. Your eyebrows have practically shot up, and you look away from him as an awkward silence hangs over the table for a beat until Sophie exhales a laugh.

Jimmy really came to the rescue by changing the subject, and your cheeks were burning by the time you met Kevin’s eye again. He actually looked a little amused, but rather than making you feel relieved, it makes heat curl down your spine.

By the time it was completely dark, part of the group had settled on the sofa and chairs in the living room to watch a movie, while others decided to go on late ride on the lake. It was still plenty warm out, and you’d really hit a stride in the book you’d been working on, so you ended up back in the same chair you’d spent most afternoon in. The line of string lights gives the deck a nice glow to it, and you can hear the buzz of the TV in the living room.

The sliding glass door opens then closes, at you look up to see Kevin walking towards you.

“Is the movie no good?” you asked, tilting your head as you look at him. He had a beer in one hand and a hard cider in the other that he offered to you. The fact that he recognized your favorite brand in the fridge made you smile as you thanked him quietly for it.

“Movie’s fine, just thought I’d come see if you wanted to go for a walk or go hang by the water,” he responded, shrugging as he took a sip from the beer still in his hand.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You shrugged back at him, flashing a grin as you got to your feet. Leaving your iPad on the seat for the time being, you follow him to the stairs, then down the trail to the dock.

“How are things in New York?” Kevin asked after a moment’s silence, and you glance up at him with a skeptical look.

“I thought we talked about this earlier,” you counter, taking a sip of your drink. He scoffed, shrugging beside you as the pair of you started down the dock.

“Yeah, I guess we did, really, how are things?” Kevin’s voice was lower this time, making your back straighten when he looked at you again. “How are you?”

You weren’t expecting such a direct question, and you’re grateful to deflect it for even a moment longer as you take the time kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the dock. An answer still hasn’t found you, so you take a drink instead of speaking. Kevin watched you all the while as he sat next to you, making self-awareness prickle at the base of your neck.

“Life’s fucking weird right now,” you admit finally, looking at the reflection of the moon on the water. “And it actually kind of fucking sucks too.” Kevin doesn’t respond right away, but when you took a deep breath, his elbow nudged yours lightly.

“You’ll get through it,” he assured you, with such sureness in his voice that you looked at him with a warm smile.

“I know I will. It’s just hard, but I’m dramatic, so of course it feels like the end of an era or something.” Your shoulders rise then fall in a shrug, still looking at him. “And then I feel selfish for even feeling that way to begin with. I know it wasn’t your choice to leave, or Brady’s, or Jimmy’s. I’m trying not to let myself be too sad about it.” You were surprised that your voice remained even as you spoke.

The words hang in the air and Kevin nodded, bring a hand up to touch the back of your shoulder. You feel warm all over as his fingers splay over your upper back, and you find yourself biting the edge of your tongue when tears sting in your eyes.

“I was sad about leaving too. I knew I’d miss the guys, that I’d miss you, but that’s what makes trips like these nice, getting to catch up and just hang out for a few days,” he said finally, his hand still on your shoulder when he met your eye. “I’m honestly surprised you’re not following Sophie to Buffalo.”

Your nose scrunched at the thought and you shook your head, exhaling a quick laugh. “I honestly thought about it, but I know she’s excited to be moving in with him, and I don’t want her to feel like she has to always keep me company or something,” you explained, peeling at the edge of the label on your bottle with your thumbnail. You weren’t sad enough about being alone in New York to justify moving upstate, you knew that much.

“Philly’s not far from New York, y’know. You can always come hang with me and Nolan, and I know there’s a few other guys on the team you’d have a good time with,” Kevin offered, taking a long swig of his beer as his hand finally fell from your shoulder. “Or I could visit you. We could go to that one bakery you like so much, watch movie or TV all day, just kind of chill.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you said, taking the chance to nudge him with your elbow. Kevin nodded, still grinning as he nudged you right back. It felt good to be talking to him, to have him close enough to smell his cologne for the first time in a year and a half.

There was another pause, and you both took a drink, the sound of frogs and crickets hanging around you.

“Sorry for putting you on the spot like that at dinner. It was meant to be a joke,” he said finally, taking another drink to finish off the bottle. You glance up at him and it almost looked like he was blushing a bit over it.

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, but Kev, you know we never dated,” you told him, laughing as you finish off your own drink.

“We kind of did!” he responded, laughing with you. “We went out plenty of times!”

“Dude, texting me ‘hey, are you hungry?’ at 11pm, then going to a 24 hour diner does not count as a date.” You snorted, shaking your head. When he caught your eye, he was smiling almost bashfully.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, holding your gaze. “The next time we go on a date, I’ll make sure you’re aware of it, deal?”

Your response is to laugh again, nodding and looking away this time. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re back on the sofa in their old apartment at 2am. A chill ran down you and you exhaled a breathe, watching the way the water rippled as a breeze swept through.

“I’m really did miss you,” Kevin told you, and from the corner of your eye, you know he was watching you again. Nervousness plucked along the back of your neck, and you kept your eyes on the water. “Like, way more than I miss Jimmy and Brady, honestly.” You don’t fully believe him, but either way, the sentiment makes your heart ache.

With your jaw clenched, you exhaled a breath as your eyes burned with the threat of tears. “I missed you most too,” you assured him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Good.” He paused, tilting his head up to look at the stars for a moment. “Can we watch season two of Fleabag sometime this weekend?” Kevin looked at you a second later and blinked as you laughed.

“Yeah, of course. That’s an oddly specific request,” you said, letting your eyes move over the lines of his face as he shrugged.

“I haven’t watched it yet, I was waiting until I could watch it with you.” His words made you blink, and your throat swelled, hating this rush of emotions now that you’d felt happier for most of the day. You didn’t really know what to say, so you just nodded again, suddenly feeling the urge to lean into him to bury your face in his neck comfortably.

A few months before he had been traded, you’d started the first season at 1:30am after a night of drinking. Brady had been at Gracia’s, and Jimmy and Sophie hadn’t even made it through the first episode. Considering the season consisted of six 25 minute episodes, it was easy for you and Kevin to stay up and watch the entire first season, curled up together on the couch.

You and Kevin had spent the following half hour making out like teenagers until he absolutely begged you to come to bed with him. Feeling heat beside your thighs, you now wish you had said yes, just to have that extra memory.

The two of you spend the next several minutes in silence, sitting side by side on the dock in the dark. You can hear music playing from the cabin behind you and the murmur of voices surrounding the fire pit that was a dozen feet away. Your heart was racing as you fidgeted after a while, trying to ignore the feelings for him that you had buried when he was traded that were now bubble at the surface.

Eventually, Kevin mentioned going up to the house for more drinks, and you agreed, getting to your feet with a sigh. You looked up at him briefly, then toward the house behind you.

“Before we head up, can I cash in my rain check for that hug from earlier?” he asked, running a hand over his hair as he watched you.

“Yeah, of course,” you responded, smiling widely as you walked into the arms he held open for you.

You let out a breathe as he hugged you tightly, your face pressed into his chest. He smelled as good as he always did, and warmth of his hand rubbing over your back had you relaxing into him. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt when he kissed the side of your head once, then a second time.

“It’s gonna be a good weekend, yeah?” he murmured, the words muffled against your hair. It took everything you had not to shiver against him, and you nodded, happy to keep yourself nuzzled securely against him for a while longer.

A FEW MORE NOTES: Well, this fic feels a lot more emotional than I’m used to writing, and it’s one of those things that I really like where I’m heading with this, but I worry about it seeming whiny or wishy-washy, but here it is anyway. How typical of me to vanish for months, then show up with a new story when everyone’s been waiting for Bring You Back to Me’s next chapter 😂 I love whoever of you are still reading at this point, and I hope you enjoy this fic. I loved the first part, but I’m so not used to writing anymore and that, paired with my ever present self-doubt, I’m like “is this fic good at all??? let’s fucking see!!!” and here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

FRIDAY

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes fic #kevin hayes imagine #hockey imagine #forever terrible at tagging these whoops #pretty please

250 notes · View notes

whump-town · 4 years

Text

Take Me to Church

Here it is: my religious!Hotch fic turned Bisexual!Hotch fic. I hope you enjoy my hard work, tears, and disaster bi-thoughts

Warning: language, sex, homosexuality **there’s no real need for a warning for that but I’d just like to market this to my fellow gays**, religious trauma, Catholic guilt, child abuse, smoking, mention of AIDS in passing but no one has it, character death(s) **not anyone major**, Aaron Hotchner’s mega big boy grande sized guilt complex, ooc bc Aaron Hotchner has the proper emotions, and just general all around intense feelings

The only Heaven I'll be sent to, Is when I'm alone with you, I was born sick, but I love it, Command me to be well

Word count: 5,794

Praying never made much sense to Aaron Hotchner.

As a child, he’d prayed with crimson teeth and a bleeding tongue for his mother to be spared in his father’s rampant beatings. The priest always said that prayer shouldn’t be selfish. As he sat on his bruised knees and whispered between sobs, he hadn’t been thinking about himself. He’d been thinking about the little brother in his mother’s womb. About the pregnancy that wouldn’t survive if his father didn’t stop hitting on her. About his poor mother who looked sicker each day.

He must have done something wrong because when God had answered his prayers...

“Come on now son. Don’t be difficult,” the priest’s heavy hands pull him away from his mother’s grave. His suit hadn’t fit well that morning but logged with the rain pouring overhead, it now hangs from his bones. They make their way back home. Back to his miserable son of a bitch father.

That night, the priest had tucked him into bed and Aaron rolls over in his bed to put his back to the man. As the old man turned to cut the lights, Aaron finally speaks for the first time all day. He’d found his voice deep within his chest and laced it with his father’s unhinged anger. “I killed her,” he whispers, hot tears running down his cheeks.

The priest shakes his head. “No.” And, the old man could never know this, but what he said next would stay with Aaron for the rest of his life. “It was her time, son.”

God had killed her.

That day was the first time Aaron had ever seen his father cry. He’d stood in the hallway and watched his father sob on his knees, cursing God and swearing up a storm. At seven-years-old, he wondered if God had a sense of humor. He must, after all, to leave Aaron all alone.

Ten-years later he stood in the same spot his father had kneeled in. He’d looked up at the ceiling and prayed again. He’d begged for his father’s life to be spared. “Just this once, okay, just this once---” but his father had never been a good man. A shitty excuse for a dad but Sean thinks he’s a good man. That’s what mattered: Sean. That’s the only thing that had ever mattered. “For Sean, please? He’s never done anything wrong.”

His father died two days later. A heart attack. The doctor’s called it mercy. For who? The man who beat him senseless for fifteen years before he just sold Aaron off to a boarding school. Calling Aaron’s inability to make friends and emotional outbursts the product of the devil and not his senseless beating. The same man who called Aaron writing with his left hand the simplest proof that his mother had been a whore. She had to have cheated to have created a bastard like Aaron.

Mercy? Is that really what he’d deserved?

He has bible scriptures carved into his back. Thin white lines left by his father’s heavy hand and the black belt he wore to court each Tuesday. The only mercy he’s ever known is the black surrounder right before he falls asleep. That twisted hope that maybe his dad hit him too hard. That he won’t wake up this time.

It felt like communion-- Eucharist, standing to receive his bread and wine.

The body of Christ.

“Daddy please-” he makes no sound as the belt comes down over his shoulder. Any noise is a symbol of greater guilt, a better reason to keep hitting. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t move.

Amen.

Remember, God is always watching. No bullshitting, he knows.

Aaron cums with a cry. A sob really.

Sam lifts his head from where he’s buried it in Aaron’s neck, leaving the hickey he’d been sucking to die on its own. He sits up, his arousal forgotten as his heart pounds in his chest with fear. “Are you alright,” he asks, pulling them apart with a quick jerk. His hands are traveling down but he stops when Aaron’s hand grabs his wrist. “Baby, if I hurt you---”

Aaron shakes his head but the tears streaming down his face says otherwise. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. He buries his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he can’t stop the tears. Sam moves out of the way of his legs, giving Aaron the space necessary to curl into himself.

Sam still has no idea what’s wrong. It had been fine. Things were fine.

It occurs to him a moment too late.

“Fuck,” he curses, seething. Not at Aaron or the mood now officially lost--- but for the boy that Aaron never got to be. To the God that Aaron believes so feverishly and unwavering in. “It’s alright,” he soothes, moving along the bed to where Aaron is. He pulls his boyfriend into his lap, holding Aaron to his chest. “Nothing is going to happen, Aaron. It’s going to be okay.”

Sam has never been religious. It wasn’t something his parents had considered important. Standing at over 6’5 and two hundred pounds of just muscle, no one even suspects he’s anything but straight. People who do know… no one’s going to say anything to a guy like him. The same thing goes for Aaron. He may be a little on the scrawny side but he’s 6’2 and no one blinks an eye at the two of them spending so much time together.

It’s not people they have to worry about.

They can be cruel and unaccepting but AIDS is still rampant through-out not only the college’s campus but through-out the gay community.

But Aaron’s a little too preoccupied with God.

Sam’s not even sure if there’s such a thing.

“Aaron!” Picking him up by his shoulders, he pulls Aaron upright. They’ve passed sobbing and moved to a panic attack. “Alright,” Sam fails to soothe. He pulls Aaron off the bed, holding him close when his legs shake beneath him. “Easy,” he mumbles, his heartbreaking--- Aaron can’t walk. It takes a great bit of work on Sam’s part but with a grunt, he lifts Aaron off his feet.

Stumbling in the direction of the bathroom, he carries Aaron. “It’s gonna be alright,” Sam promises. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Sam would like to think he’s a good boyfriend (he is). He did as much research as he could. So that he would know how to help Aaron the next time one of these events started happening.

Into the freezing shower they go.

Clutched, naked body to naked body, they rock until Aaron’s broken sobs die down. Until Sam can feel Aaron’s breathing steady out, hot exhales washing over his goosebump riddled flesh.

Against the bare skin of Sam’s shoulder, Aaron whispers Hail Mary to himself. His long fingers tapping against his thumb like counting rosary beads, “---of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now---” It’s the only coping mechanism he’s ever learned.

Sam presses a kiss to his temple. Aaron hates that he turns his head for more. Turns his head until Sam’s hands are tangled in his hair and holding him tightly. Sam kisses him softly, full of love. He doesn’t deserve that.

“Sodomy is a sin,” he whispers, against Sam’s lips.

Sam smiles, shaking his head. He doesn’t care. “Did you like it,” Sam asks, voice husky. He wraps himself back around Aaron, shaking from the cold of the water still pouring down over them. Fingers moving up Aaron’s back, he tangles them in his hair.

Aaron… knows the answer. He also knows that sin is often appealing. Sam is the sin that Aaron can never walk away from. What he always comes back for. “Yes,” he answers, honestly. He had liked it. He’d liked it a lot. Sex with Sam is gentle and overwhelming and--- sin. It’s still sin.

“That’s all that matters,” Sam presses kisses back to Aaron’s neck. Smiling against his skin when Aaron arches into the touch.

Aaron can never make Sam understand that this principle isn’t that simple. It’s a black and white morality. Heaven or hell.

But, maybe…

Sam reaches around behind him and cuts the water off, Aaron shivers against his chest leaning closer to the touches that are trailing down his body. Sam pulls him closer so that Aaron’s in his lap. With a grunt, Aaron allows Sam to push into him and mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure he falls into Sam’s shoulder.

“Jesus,” Sam curses, pulling Aaron closer. “You---” he moans, tilting his head back. This time, Aaron’s sets the pace. Slow and steady. It hurts but it’s an ache he’s familiar with. The lube from earlier mostly washed away but he’s prepped and anything is better than thinking about Hell.

His doomed eternity.

“You’re so good, baby boy.” Sam holds him close, his fingers digging into Aaron’s hips. “Fu-Fuck---”

Why is it that the only thing that has ever made sense to him a sin?

Sam dies in the middle of first semester their Junior year. Though it’s never stated, it’s Aaron’s fault. Sam wouldn’t have been on the road that if Aaron just prayed harder or been a better man. Panic attacks are a product of a shaky relationship with God and Aaron wouldn’t have had one, he wouldn’t have called Sam freaking out, if he’d just… believed harder.

Aaron knows it’s his fault. He never gets over that guilt.

He marries Haley at the end of Senior year and they invite Sam’s parents to the wedding. No one knows the true extent of Aaron and Sam’s relationship but Haley knows something was going on between the two. They’d been high school sweethearts, separated by his years spent away at college. Separated by Aaron’s love for a man.

He comes home different but she loves him. She also knows that her mother approves of Aaron’s God-fearing ways. Religion is good in a man like him, her mother had warned, you can see the darkness in him. She bites her tongue and moves on.

Until she sees the darkness too.

The divorce breaks him.

He starts having panic attacks again, worse than the ones in college. No one notices. He knows they just write him off as a dick. He’s just a robot to them. Emotionless and he can work with that. So, he is a robot. Just marching through life and flying by the seat of his pants, hoping that it all goes well.

But he knows… each night as the panic bubbles in his chest and has him falling to his knees that hell is the only place he’s going. It’s going to take more than prayers to save a sinner like him.

“Hotch?” He jumps at the sudden intrusion. Looking to his left, none other than Emily Prentiss is standing on the balcony. She’s grinning from ear to ear and shaking her head. “What are you doing up so late?”

The cigarette trapped between his lips should answer that well enough.

The thing is, he’s not as slick as he thinks he is. She’s noticed him pulling away. Dave has noticed--- hell, everyone has noticed something is wrong. So, when Emily Prentiss had been tossing and turning in her own bed and smelled the wafting, faint scent of cigarette smoke she’d gotten curious. She certainly hadn’t expected to find him.

“Mind some company?”

And with those three simple words she’d pulled him from the edge.

That night they burned through four cigarettes. Sin, that night, had been just as he remembered it once being. For a moment, as he stood--- her leaning against him and him leaning against her--- he had managed a smile. With a cigarette between his teeth, he’d taken his first real breath in years.

Foyet attacks him in his apartment and as he lies bleeding he hopes this is it. That the world will flicker out, he’s just a candle drowning it’s wax. Will there be a light or…

He wakes up in the hospital and he’s never been this cold in his life.

It’s Emily’s voice that pulls him from the white walls and the pain. She’s saying something about cigarettes and the seasons changing. He smiles, drugged and submissive, when she proposes the team go to Dave’s and get drunk. He doesn't’ even think about God, about the sin and the eternity in hell waiting for him. He just thinks about his team and the only family he’s ever really been a part of.

He wakes up thrashing--- a broken sob on his lips. There’s so much pain and he can’t think about anything other than death. Death and Hell and sin and the pain, oh fuck the pain.

Thin fingers wrap around his, squeezing and he looks up and finds JJ softly soothing him. Her fingers are ghosting along his forearms, rubbing circles into his pale skin. “Just breathe,” she instructs and he’s reminded of Sam and that freezing shower and the---

“Aaron!” she calls and the fortitude, the conviction in her eyes sobers him. “You have to stop,” she tells him, her touch turning hard and that he can focus on. That pulls him back down. “Breathe,” and slowly he relaxes again. She’s softened and he watches the tears pool in her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” she chides, softly.

He manages to squeeze her hand.

“We almost lost you,” she whispers and that hadn’t occurred to him. His death happens to other people. It’ll just be… nothing. He must be very high or maybe broken because he thinks of nothing. The nothingness that happens after death and not raging, flaming pits of hell.

JJ presses a kiss to his temple and he closes his eyes. It’s a tender love he… he’s forgotten. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she says, her thumb rubbing against his hand. “I don’t like job hunting.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her that the team wouldn’t fall apart if Foyet had chosen to kill him.

She doesn’t know how to tell him that isn’t true.

Foyet does kill Haley and for a long time, it’s like he’s killed Hotch too.

“Hotch!”

The last he’d seen of Emily, she was displeased with his decision to decline his invitation to girl’s night. First, of all, he’s not that dumb. He knew damn well that they wanted him to tag along because Emily had told them about his date with the cute blonde at the coffee shop had gone tits up. Of course, she’d chosen to leave out that his date had failed because she’d entered the shop and wolf-whistled at the sight of him.

But, she has chosen to blame the entire thing on him because he should have told her.

Ah, silly him.

Now, he’s waiting on his front porch for Will to drop her off at his place. Does she have an apartment of her own? Yes. But she’s a clingy drunk and it’s custom for her to come to sleep in his bed. Besides, who else is going to hold her hair up while she pukes?

He smiles when he sees her. God… leave it to him to pick Emily Prentiss, of all people, to be his best friend. Well, he’s not really sure he chose or picked her so much as ended up within her mercy. “Emily,” he greets softly, smiling when she walks right up to him and headbutts his chest. She just falls straight into him.

He shuffles to accommodate her weight but they do this little dance frequently. With one hand on the back of her head, he raises the other to wave to Will that he’s free to go. The detective nods and pulls the car into reverse, JJ and Garcia in the back shouting their own goodbyes.

“Alright,” Hotch rubs her shoulders, shivering from the night’s chill. “Pigging back ride?”

She nods and it’s only with practiced ease that they manage this so easily.

As he stands, he gives her a second to adjust herself before he starts walking back towards his porch. This is the exact reason he does squats at the gym, so his thighs don’t shake as he carries her up the stairs.

“Oh,” Emily whines into his back, where her face is buried. “I hope I didn’t wake Jack.”

He’s overly careful to make sure he doesn’t hit her legs as he steps into the door. Stopping to shut the door behind them he tells her, “he’s not here.” He scowls with concentration as he moves down the hall. “He’s spending the weekend with his cousins.” He’d told her this earlier, too many times. It is one of the smaller reasons she’d invited him to girls night: so he wouldn’t have to be alone in his house.

They share many secrets. He’d been the first person on the team to know she’s gay. He still remains one of the few who know. JJ and Garcia know-- tequila always makes her lose her grip. He also knows that she wants to have a family and about her giant crush on JJ.

Just like she knows that sitting in his empty house stresses him out. He turns into the empty walls and all he can think about is being completely alone while Foyet was trying to hunt down his son and Haley. She knows this and… she’d left him here all by himself.

“Emily,” he whispers, feeling her hot tears soak into the back of his shirt. He’s not mad or even frustrated, he’s just sad. He can’t do anything about it just yet. So, he takes her back to his room. He helps her out of her blouse, replacing it with his George-town hoodie so she can curl her legs into.

Only once she’s situated, his back turned so she can hiccup and dry her tears while she slips into a pair of her own shorts he kneels down in front of her. “Emily.” He shakes his head, she’s still inconsolable, so he pulls her to his chest. “Emily, I’m a grown man.” He rubs her back, “I can handle being in my own home.”

She only cries harder and it hurts him because whatever it is that’s really bothering her he can’t fix.

“Would you love me more if I wasn’t a lesbian,” she asks, sobbing into his shoulder.

Well… he blanks. What is he even supposed to say to that? Now she’s really crying and he’s-- he can’t think of a single thing to say. “Emily…” he shakes his head. “I--I don’t care that you’re a lesbian.” And why would he? How many times have they had the ‘it would be like kissing my brother/sister’ conversation? Or the ‘even if I were straight…’? He doesn’t feel sexually attracted to her.

He just… he loves her because she’s his family.

“You don’t,” she asks, sniffling. She pushes his shoulders away from her so that she can see his eyes. So she can see if he’s lying. “You don’t hate me?” Because she’s certain that he does sometimes. Like he can stand the thought of her.

He shakes his head. “It would be very hypocritical of me to hate you for being gay,” he says, without really thinking about what that means. At what he’s admitting.

Though she doesn’t say anything, the admission sobers her. With tender care he tucks her into bed. Smiling softly when she pulls him down beside her.

They fall asleep on their sides, facing one another. He falls asleep first. Too exhausted to wait her out. Between them, she gently reaches over and brushes her thumb over his cheek bone. Trialing it along the facial hair he’s let grow over the course of their long weekend off.

He breaks her heart.

“So, are we just not going to talk about it?”

They’re watching a basketball game from earlier in the week because it’s Tuesday and she gets to pick what they watch on Tuesdays. Granted, it’s sports and he hates sports which means that he gets to pick whether or not they sit close. She knows something is wrong because he puts the entire couch between them. They’re not even sharing a blanket and he always lets her have some of his blankets.

She gets cold easily.

“Talk about what, Emily?” The way he says her name… it’s not right. He always says Emily kindly, loving. He says her name and it makes her proud to be Emily but this time it’s a reprimand and she sees it for exactly what it is—- an attempt to push her away. To make her feel afraid to push on.

But she’s been gay for so long, openly gay. It takes more than a little bit of attitude to scare her off. “You,” she says, softly. “You’re gay, Aaron, and—-“

He flinches at the word gay. Recoiling. “Emily,” his tone shifts to pleading.

“You—-“ she shifts too. She turns her body to face her, no longer relaxed. “Aaron, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

Sodomy, Aaron thinks. First and for most, there’s sodomy and it’s a sin to love a man. A sin to love men in a way he could never love Haley. Which Emily would understand if he told her about his sex life with Haley. Rather, his nonexistent sex life with Haley. He loved Haley so much but he could never love her the right way. The way God had intended.

By the time he manages to raise his eyes to hers, there are tears streaming down his face. He’s so helplessly broken and he can’t even hide it.

“Oh, Aaron.” Emily pulls him against her chest, rubbing up and down his back as he sobs. “I…” she doesn’t know what to say. She knows it’s the Catholisim here at play but her youth was so very different from his. Matthew had saved her from the fate Aaron had succumbed to. Matthew had shown her the churches many faults and…

Aaron had no one.

No one but the Bible and a God who never answered back.

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” she whispers, rocking their bodies gently. “There’s nothing wrong with you Aaron.”

He sobs even harder. He wishes he could believe that. He does. He wishes he could but…

They agree to never talk about it. Meaning, Emily begrudgingly lets it go.

The universe isn’t ready for Hotch to shove it under the rug though.

There’s this barista at the coffee shop downtown--- more than a barista, he’s the owner, actually. He’s a giant. He almost makes Hotch feel small in comparison. In college, he’d been a football player but he’d messed his knee up pretty bad Junior year. He became dependent on the painkillers he’d received after surgery. He’d dropped out of college a few months later.

Hotch learns all of this only after two coffees.

One that he has Monday with the man’s phone-number and name scribbled onto the side of his cup. His cheeks had turned a furious shade of pink when Morgan had asked who Charlie is and if she was pretty. For some reason, despite coaching himself over and over in the mirror that he’d never go back--- Hotch goes back to the coffee shop Thursday.

This time as Hotch is handing the other man a five dollar bill he adds his own phone-number and name attached with a simple sticky-note.

He’s not even out the door yet when his phone vibrates.

“I thought I’d scared you off, mysterious FBI man.”

It makes him stop in his tracks. A smile tugs at his lips and there isn’t a single thought in his head about church or God or his father just this impossibly good feeling in his chest. It’s been so long since he’s done the flirting thing but he replies: “As good as mysterious FBI man sounds, I typically go by Aaron. Besides, it takes a little bit more than a phone-number to scare me off”

The texts keep coming and Hotch doesn’t mind.

Charlie tells him about college and Hotch tells him about the team. It’s out of character for him to be so open but it’s just coffee and flirting and a really hot barista.

The feeling is very mutual.

“Kiss me, g-man.”

Hotch shakes his head, chuckling when Charlie throws his hips over Hotch’s waist. “You’d better---” whatever threat he’s making half-heartedly turns into a groan when Charlie starts planting open mouth kisses along his collar. Sucking a hickey under his ear where it will be painfully obvious to the team.

When Hotch lets out a grunt, his hand grabbing at Charlie’s shirt and the other going to his hair Charlie laughs. He buries his face in Hotch’s neck, his hand traveling down to the front of his pants. “Is that your gun?” he pulls back with a smirk.

Lightly, he pushes Aaron back on the bed. Charlie’s nimble fingers wrap around his jeans, pulling the tight fabric off of his ass.

“I don’t remember asking for this,” Hotch grunts, fist clenched tightly in the bedsheets. It’s the only way he can assure that he won’t go bucking into Charlie’s palm the minute he starts touching again. He’s not going to cave like that.

To his credit, Charlie stops. He plants his hands on both sides of Hotch’s hips, his mouth sending a dangerous gust of warm air over Hotch’s straining cock. He lifts an eyebrow, “say the word, Aaron.” Say the word and it stops. They don’t dance along fancy lines like that. Charlie wouldn’t do that.

Sitting up, Aaron wraps his legs around Charlie’s hips. He runs his fingers up through Charlie’s hair, kissing him. With a smile he pulls away and whispers, “fuck me, Charlie.”

And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do just that.

Sodomy is way better than Aaron remembers.

They’re about three months into this when Charlie learns that Hotch hasn’t told a soul about him. At least, not really. Not past the point of passing in conversation. Hell, he hasn’t even told them that Charlie isn’t some bombshell blonde woman but a 6’4 black man who owns the coffee shop.

“Fine,” Hotch caves despite the anxiety leaving him so unnerved he’s shaking. “Do you want to come with me to Dave’s this weekend?” He’s got an edge to his tone. He’s hoping Charlie takes the bait and rolls his eyes. He almost hopes for a fight.

Charlie nods his head, “I would like to, actually.”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s far from it.

He sits on edge for the rest of the week. Begging for a case. None come.

If Charlie has anything to say about Hotch letting go of his hand when they step out of the car, he doesn’t say anything. He does offer him a supportive smile, reaching between them to squeeze Aaron’s bicep.

“Dave,” Hotch breathes the other man’s voice and Charlie can hear the panic seeping into his deep tone. But then he just blanks.

Charlie stretches his hand out, “I’m Charlie.”

Dave gets over his momentary shock very quickly. “Charlie,” Dave shakes his head with a smile. He avoids the hand being offered and pulls the younger man in for a hug. “I have heard so much about you! I was just a little shocked. I was expecting--”

Charlie laughs, “a woman.”

Dave claps him on the back. “Well, yes, I was.” He smiles at Hotch next, pulling him in for a hug too. Dave can feel just how unnerved Hotch is but he doesn’t comment. He just squeezes him a little tighter. “More so,” Dave says, “I was expecting a blonde. He really likes blondes.”

Charlie glances back at Aaron, keeping his smile in place even when Aaron can’t look up from his intense battle with the floor.

“Well, come on in! I’ve got enough bourbon and food in here to feed a small army!”

Charlie steps inside first, Aaron hot on his heels.

Charlie turns around, to look back at Aaron. Calling the other man’s name for attention. “Aaron,” he calls softly, grabbing his hand. “Show me to the bathroom.”

Hotch nods his head, eyes vacant as he moves on through the room. Ghosting. “It’s, ugh,” Hotch points lamely to the door.

Charlie pulls him into the small room. Aaron making a small grunt of protest. “Look at me,” says, stern but not overbearing. “Aaron, please.”

It takes a moment but Aaron pulls his eyes off the floor. He grimaces when a tear falls down his cheek, ashamed of this display of emotion. This vulnerability.

With a sad smile, Charlie wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. “They didn’t know did they?”

Leaning forward, Hotch buried his face in Charlie’s blue t-shirt. It’s old and soft and it does nothing to slow his tears. He shakes his head. “They didn’t.”

Fuck. Charlie wraps his arms around Hotch, pulling him close. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

What other options are there? If Charlie hadn’t forced his hand Hotch would have happily died in the blissful lie he’d created. He could have died alone. No need to come out. Hell, if he’d just found another blonde woman he could have married her and died “straight”.

Anything is better than this in-between.

“Aaron,” Charlie breathes his name sadly. He doesn’t know what to say. His family had disowned him. So, he can’t just reassure Aaron it’ll be okay but Dave took it so well. “Have you even given them a chance?”

Well… Dave did take it very well and Emily already knows.

“No,” he answers honestly.

Charlie presses a kiss to his temple, asking, “maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt?”

A knock at the door makes them both jump.

“Hotch,” Reid whines from the other side. “I really have to go.”

Hotch smiles and that makes Charlie smile. “Good?” he asks.

Hotch nods, “good.”

The pair step out of the bathroom.

Reid blushes and slides past.

“You don’t think he thinks we were…”

Hotch nods, “more than likely.”

Heading back down the hall, Charlie leans into Hotch’s side. “Which one was that?”

“Reid.”

Charlie hums his understanding. Cuter than he’d imagined. Aaron had said tall and thin but it really did the genius no justice. He’s an attractive young man. “You didn’t tell me he was cute.”

Wrapping his arm around Charlie’s waist he pulls the other man closer. His heart is beating hard in his chest but he kisses the other man, closing his eyes and enjoying this moment. Separating just enough to say, “I think he said he plays for your team. If you’re interested.”

“My team,” Charlie repeats. He runs a finger along Aaron’s brow, sweeping his hair back. “My team is you,” Charlie rolls his eyes. “Doofus.”

Hotch’s jaw drops. “Doofus?”

Charlie smiles, “my doofus.”

Emily stops at the mouth of the hall, having heard the dee rumbling sound of voices “That’s fucking adorable.”

Hotch groans, pushing his face into Charlie’s chest.

“Don’t groan at me,” she says. “You’re the bastard that came out to me. Ghosted me. Then went and got a boyfriend.”

Hotch grimaces, “Emily…”

She waves him, turning her attention to Charlie. “You,” she sticks her hand out and they share a handshake. “You got yourself a good one. He can be an ass though.”

Charlie chuckles at that, “he really can be. Also, insufferable.”

Emily opens her mouth in happy shock. “Right? What about him being a know-it-all?”

Charlie nods, “don’t forget being a tight ass.”

Hotch feels a comment about their sex lives attempting to roll of his tongue. Something along the lines of Charlie saying he’d liked his ass last night— instead he just grunts. “Enough about me,” he grumbles.

Emily smiles at both of them. She really is happy. Hotch deserves to be happy. With a smirk she motions for them to follow her. “Come on, drinks?”

Somehow, despite everything Hotch had convinced himself, everything is fine.

Charlie ends up wondering off with Morgan. The two deep into a conversation about a beam Morgan’s building around. Hotch had watched Charlie gag down Garcia’s awful shots and listen to Reid talk about thermodynamics.

And when Hotch’s anxiety started getting bad again, Charlie was right there. Hotch hadn’t said anything, he didn’t even close himself off. Emily had just excused herself to go yell about something with JJ, leaving him leaning against the bar in the kitchen. But Charlie had come up and squeezed his hand. Winking for good measure. Hotch’s anxiety, like his heart, melted into a puddle around his feet.

“Goodbye,” Emily wishes them a farewell. She kisses both their cheeks and holds on to Hotch a moment longer than she normally would. “So, does this mean we’re back on for movie nights?”

Hotch nods. He’s missed their movie nights. He’s missed hanging out with her.

In the end, it’s the two of them and Dave.

Hotch’s anxiety rears it’s ugly head. Another painful reminder of the childhood he’ll never escape. Of God and sin and hell. The Catholic Church is solid force in Dave’s life and he’s askin Dave to choose. And Aaron knows he’s not going to be chosen.

“You boys good to drive home?” Dave hands Charlie a Tupperware container of leftovers.

Charlie nods, “we’re okay.”

Well, Charlie is. Hotch is little tipsy and one wrong word away from throwing up on the porch.

“Be safe,” Dave says, pulling Charlie in for a hug first. He pats his back, lowering his head to whisper. “Take care of my boy, you here?”

It makes Charlie smile. They’d briefly discussed Aaron’s real father but Charlie can see exactly what Aaron had meant when he said Dave had been the man that raised him. He’s gentle and firm and Charlie is glad Aaron was able to find a father. “Of course,” Charlie responds. “Someone has to.”

That makes Dave chuckle. Damn right.

“Come here, son.” Aaron’s always been bigger than Dave, not that he minds. He pulls him down into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Lowering his voice he whispers, “I’m glad you brought Charlie. He’s a good man. I’m proud of you.”

Hotch feels the dam break. He wraps his arms tighter around Dave, all of his youth and sexuality and feelings finally making sense. He doesn’t have to chose. He can be himself and be happy, it’s allowed.

Aaron Hotchner didn’t kill his mother or his mother. He’s always done his best and that’s all he can do.

“You’re a good man,” Dave whispers, rubbing his back.

And… Aaron might just be starting to believe him.

#criminal minds #tw child abuse #out of character #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #sean hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #haley hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #tw cigarettes #lesbian emily prenitss #george foyet

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period-dramallama · 4 years

Text

Spanish Princess Episode 5: many many thoughts

Strap yo selves in

-WHERE WAS THE APOLOGY?? Lina’s just back with Catherine like nothing happened??

-Katherine, I get why you’re upset, but you kind of should be unsurprised?? Your dad was unfaithful to his wife, most kings were. Henry VII and Richard III were the exceptions, and even they had illegitimate sons before their marriages. Many kings also had official mistresses that everyone knew about, so by the standards of the time Henry and Bessie are actually being pretty tactful in at least trying to keep their affair out of sight. (Sexy dancing aside).

-Honestly it would have been so much more moving if KoA was like “I know kings take mistresses...but I thought...I was so sure... he would be different...”

-”they gave me a purse of gold!” It’s expected that you give the monarch lavish presents, lmao Ursula and Stafford would do that even if they hated each other and you

-”everybody loves a masque” the only sensible thing Henry has said so far in this show. Also court probably had way more masques than we see in the show, and it would standard to have a masque every holiday.

-”she is not a boy” hurry up with your character development and learn to love Mary already i am so TIRED of this miserable BS

-seems a rather depopulated masque? If the Chateau Vert pageant is anything to go by putting on a masque was a court activity, with most of the ladies performing.

-Bessie Blount in her cute masque costume... sweet mother i cannot weave Aphrodite has overcome me with GAAAAAAAAAAAAY

-”I never enjoyed carousing...my mother scolded me” look i love the Neville sisters with my whole heart but a) Margaret was 3 at most when her mother died, how does she remember her? She’d have clearer memories of her double-uncle and double-aunt, Richard III and Queen Anne b) Isabel Neville in the White Queen was established as very prim and proper, a well-bred girl who cared about enforcing decorum, she refused to ‘carouse’ and she certainly would never bring a 3 year old to a party c) we saw little Margaret as a girl at the end of the White Queen and she didn’t seem at all shy.

-”she died young, didn’t she” ...yes? most people did?

-”they both did” understatement of the year. Isabel Neville died young because she was ill, George died young (in the universe of The White Queen, at least) BECAUSE HE WAS FORCEFULLY DROWNED IN A VAT OF MALMSEY WINE. THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME! I do at least trust the writers of this show that the understatement was intentional, I’m sure even Emma Frost couldn’t forget a major character getting violently drowned.

-So the court only noticed the plague when one of their own got it so obviously and then died? Yes, plague could move fast, but if there was a whiff of plague the court would flee with the speed of the Looney Tunes road runner. If an acquaintance of an acquaintance of a cook had a cousin who saw someone with the plague, the court would flee to the country. How have these people not died of terminal stupid?! Like Compton was in the same building as the heir to the throne

-To be fair, it makes sense that they’re surprised Compton’s dead. Because the real Compton died of the sweating sickness. In 1528. Also he was involved in Buckingham’s downfall so... you just wrote yourself into a corner.

-Oh wow an actual good reason for More and Pole to be quarantined together i am amaaaaaazed

-”attend the queen” Boleyn, what do you think your daughter’s been doing all season if not attending the queen? Playing tetris?

-Katherine helping Anne into the wagon...I actually like that little moment. Like it does make sense, because the two have no reason to hate each other yet. (And who couldn’t like Anne? She’s such a babby!)

-Thomas More in the Tudor equivalent of casual clothes... much better. Shame about the 1930s lady’s wig.

-”what else should we do?” Maggie, this cannot be the first epidemic you’ve ever lived through. Have you forgotten the sweating sickness of 1485? You’ve probably lived through more epidemics than Oviedo has, you should know the protocol better than him.

-Oviedo continues to be the only man with rights. I wish we could see him crying and missing his wife and babies, but then my lil heart would break so maybe it’s for the best.

-They burn Maggie’s weird blue hood AS THEY SHOULD! IT WAS UGLY AND STUPID! I NEVER HAVE TO LOOK AT IT AGAIN NOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH! yes they also burned her nice dress with the strawberries on it but honestly it’s worth it, bc now i can rest easy, knowing the evil hood has been defeated.

-”you were a plaything” Katherine is so obviously insecure. I’m getting second-hand embarrassment. Like if she really was certain Bessie wasn’t important, she wouldn’t need to say it, would she? Except to rub it in. Which this KOA would absolutely do.

-literally all Bessie said was good morning?? Like Bessie is doing her best?? The masque was Henry’s idea, not hers, she hasn’t shown off about her affair, she hasn’t demanded money or titles, she hasn’t demanded any status to rival Katherine’s, she doesn’t flirt with or even speak to Henry when Katherine’s around, she acts like they’re strangers, she doesn’t even react when Katherine loses her temper...someone please please stick up for Bessie!

-”the rocking of the cart is unsettling to the stomach” is Anne naive, or is she covering for Bessie? I hope it’s the latter, in which case Anne is the one person looking out for Bessie...the babby is Soft, I repeat the babby is Soft!

-the irony of Mary being cold to Bessie when she’s next in the firing line...

-”it is not the rocking” Thank you Lina, where would we be without your gift for stating the obvious?

-”where did Wolsey get his money”...He’s a churchman...at the top of the church hierarchy...how do you fuckin think he got wealthy. Have y’all not been in the sixteenth century for five minutes? Why do you think Luther is so mad at the church?

-”I know of no other man in her bed most nights” Honestly wow I’m surprised KoA wasn’t like “well :/ a girl like that :/ who knows how many men process in and out of her bed :/” KoA gets half a point for being less bitchy than usual. Also Bessie looked so uncomfortable with Henry groping her stomach in front of Katherine. I pray the next man in her life treats her right and that Fraham don’t prematurely kill her off like they did with Compton.

-”the future king” if you’re regent on his behalf, then he’s already king! “Civilised companionship” back at it again with the Scots-are-barbarians.

-Laura Carmichael is utterly stunning this episode, with her hair down. The cinematography was beautiful in general this week.

-”freedom to speak and licence to speak are two different things” hey look at that one of Thomas More’s actual beliefs. I am giving all the credit to the historical advisor for that, I don’t believe for one second Fraham knew that beforehand.

-Maggie I love you but no, God does not sanction adultery. For any reason.

-KOA smirking and gloating about Bessie’s pain...she has never been so punchable. I would understand, if not condone it, if Bessie was manipulative, or greedy, or ambitious, or trying to supplant Katherine. But Bessie’s been betrayed by Henry too, and there’s no concrete evidence she ever gloated about her affair, to anyone let alone Katherine.

-”You think only of your own fate while London is struck down with plague” Earth to Katherine?? What concern have you shown for the Londoners?? Also calling Bessie selfish...Bessie’s not the one who lashed out at Lina, was jealous at Lina for having twin boys, and who wanted to continue a war for personal reasons. And then Bessie proves KoA wrong 5 hot seconds later by sticking up for Mary. Bit rich of KoA to be all “how dare you leave my daughter unattended” when she herself won’t even hold Mary.

-”Louis didn’t last a year” What! Is! The Timeline!

-Meg in that cloak reminds me of the Scottish Widow adverts. Georgie is so greedy- she steals every single scene she is in! Even when she’s raging she has more dignity and more presence than KoA ever has.

-”YOU LYING SOD” i burst out laughing it’s really not the little two-timing shit’s day, is it?

-Mary receiving Charlie B in the most Extra way possible. A++

-Why does Wolsey look like he’s about to cry?

-”thoughts are not actions” Lina I love you but... that is NOT what the New Testament says. Jesus said evil thoughts are very very much sins. I’ll give you a pass because maybe you haven’t been Catholic as long as Katherine has? Idk your backstory.

-Aaand now she’s wishing death on Bessie and her unborn baby and Lina isn’t disgusted? At least Katherine is feeling guilty. AS SHE SHOULD.

-”must it always fall to me to be magnanimous?” Katherine, you think only of yourself, for 23 out of every 24 hours.

-”God wants me to be compassionate to Bessie because of my sins” God wants you to be compassionate because that’s how Christianity is supposed to work. It’s not very selfless of you to decide to be selfless so that you can get what you want.

-oh wow look at that! She’s getting some self-awareness, i never saw that coming.

-”you betrayed Bessie” 5 points to Katherine of Aragon for standing up for Bessie when Henry screwed her over. Finally, some positive character development.

- MINUS 20000 POINTS FOR BABY STEALING

-WHAT THE FUCK

-is henry so dumb he thinks that baby is Katherine’s? Katherine was so obviously not pregnant

-When a baby’s born his skin needs to touch his mother’s skin so they can bond. They should have at least an hour’s cuddle time. Katherine of Aragon is literally traumatising a baby the very minute he is born. For her own selfish, selfish desires.

#the spanish princess

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shadow--writer · 3 years

Text

Tell me What you Really Feel, Do you Like me? Just say you do

sladkjeikdsjfhuisdkf. After four fucking rewrites I did it. Song title bc I have been wanting to use it since I’ve heard it. But look I wrote something XD

Maeve x Lucas. You give me heart palpitations. 4.9k (I’d say I’m surprised but we all know these things run off with me)

TW: none!

@dela-png

The rain was softer now, but coming down like a god weeping. Visibility was a bit low with the sun setting, and the clouds blocked out most of the colours from the sunset. She could hear the ocean waves rise and meet the sand from farther east.

It was going to be a long walk home.

Her head was still buzzing slightly from spending time with him, the flour in her hair slowly being washed out as she lowered her coat. There was going to be no saving her hair, the rain would make quick work of whatever layers she had on.

Goddess she hoped she wouldn’t catch a cold. That would be miserable.

“Maeve! Wait!”

She paused, turning around to listen to the voice. She could still see his home.

And him now.

“Lucas?” she asked, moving closer to him. He cradled something in his hands, pants hastily shoved into his boots.

He was in a rush to catch her before she left.

“Is something wrong? Are you hurt? Did Jolie get hurt?” she asked, getting slightly worried.

He let out a breath, smiling a little. “No! No. Not hurt. Just...wanted to give you something before you left.”

“Give me something? Lucas I’m okay you don’t need to give me anything!” She didn’t deserve anything from him anyway. She was just...still her.

He uncovered the thing sitting in his palms. “No...I want you to have this. It...reminds me of you. Meant to give it to you earlier but I was having...fun.”

Her eyes flickered down to what sat in his hands.

It was a small dog. Different from the one she broke. Tiny, with floppy ears and sitting up with it’s paws raised up like it was trying to balance.

“A small dog reminds you of me?”

“Bark,” he whispered with a tiny smile. “I found it after you...left. I was so angry.” She wilted a little. He had every right to be angry with her. Of course he did! But hearing him say it stung. “I know...you had your reasons. Whatever they might be but...I don’t know why I got it. Maybe because it reminded me of you. Or maybe if I got rid of it or something I’d hopefully...get over you.”

Her words were nervous. “I’m sensing a but.”

He smiled a little. “But. Getting over you, what happened, all of it, never happened. Really it all got worse.” His face reddened again. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “S-Sorry. Sounds kind of stupid. But I just wanted you to have this. Reminded me of you, is all.”

She stepped closer, the sound of her heel the only sound accompanying the rainfall. “You made it?”

“U-Um no! I, uh, bought it.”

She bit her lower lip, smiling a little. They were getting soaked. She peeked up at him through her lashes, his hair fell in ringlets around his face. She wanted to push them back. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to.”

His smile was shy as she picked up the dog. “But a small dog?”

“Look, you're short.”

“Hey.”

“Well...way shorter than I thought you were,” he admitted. “Without your heels you don’t even come up to my shoulders.”

“...I don’t even come up to your shoulder in heels.”

He snorted. “True.”

An awkward silence filled the air. So that was wonderful.

“I um. Should go home! Now. Before the rain gets worse and all that,” she said, turning away from him. She clutched the small dog close to her chest.

“Maeve um...wait,” he whispered, grabbing her wrist gently. She stopped moving forward, bringing her foot back to standstill. Her heart raced, his touch making everything sharpen, like the world got a bit more colourful and bright. “I’m...I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” she asked softly, turning around, wrist shifting in his grasp.

“I...I don’t want to just be friends,” he blurted out. “I...presumed a little about what you wanted. And I’m sorry. You wouldn’t...I saw things that weren’t there! I just...thought maybe it would be…”

“Different?”

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. She wriggled her arm out of his hand, carefully lacing their fingers together. “You’re starting to sound like me,” she joked gently. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

“I don’t want to be friends.”

A small knife twisted through her gut. Yeah. She deserved this. The dog was a goodbye gift. He didn’t want to be around her as much as she wanted to be around him. It was okay. It was okay. It was...okay (no it wasn’t.) “What?”

He breathed in, staring at their interlocked hands. “I don’t want to be friends.” Her spirits fell a little. A lot. The softness of his voice and his words stung.

He continued on. “Because I want to kiss you.” His eyes slowly trailed up her arm, not wanting to meet hers. “I’ve...wanted to kiss you. From the picnic. When you kissed my cheek I...panicked. I...well, I tried to kiss you anyway. But I must’ve read it wrong. I know I read it wrong since you...you pulled.” His voice cracked. “You pulled away. I-I’m sorry.”

She bit her cheek, squeezing his hand once. “You...didn’t read anything wrong,” she whispered, shifting closer to him. The rain was a biting cold against her skin, flattening her hair. “I wanted...to kiss you too. But I.” She chewed on her lower lip, ripping at the skin there. “I’m scared.”

He finally met her eyes. “Why?”

She breathed in, gathering her wits a little. The smell of rain helped settle her stomach. “Both of you and what I want for myself. I don’t...want to get hurt again. It’s selfish, I know.”

“There’s nothing selfish about wanting to protect yourself.”

“But at the expense of your feelings?”

His eyes darted away from hers again, his cheeks pinkening. “W-Well…” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. She found it endearing. “How...do you feel now?”

She pursed her lips, shifting closer and rising up to her tiptoes. “I want you to kiss me. If you...if that’s what you really want. Do...do you? Want that, I mean. I’d understand if you don’t feel that way anymore! I um...mucked things up. As always.”

His head darted over to look at her, she was still holding his hand, a little space between them.

His voice was so soft. Soft and brittle, like a stray breeze would snap it. “I...I do. I do want to kiss you.”

She let out a tiny breathy breath. Her nerves slowly exhaled with the air. The rain tasted sweet as she looked back up at him.

He wanted her.

Was that okay?

It had to be.

It was selfish. She was selfish. But it’s what she wanted.

“Then kiss me.”

He stared at her for a moment, making her nervous.

“Lu...cas?” she asked, teetering a little. His eyes flickered down to her lips.

His name hung in the air for a heartbeat. Then another.

He bent closer and brushed his lips against hers softly. It was little more than a flutter of a butterfly’s wing, a gentle press as she teetered on her toes. He brought their hands up, lightly kissing her knuckles with nervous eyes.

But his kiss did its job and she leaned in for another.

He let out a tiny startled noise as she held onto him. The noise faded into a little sigh as he pulled her close.

It spiraled out of control as he gathered the material of her dress in his hands, pressing her so close it left her deliciously breathless.

She reached up to grasp the fabric of his shirt, thoroughly soaked by the downpour. She bunched the fabric in her fists, standing up on her tiptoes trying to get him closer.

The rain tasted sweeter off his lips anyways.

He let go of her dress, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. Kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the tip of her nose, he grinned. He spun them around, making her laugh, kicking her legs and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He nuzzled her neck, breathing softly against her skin.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“You...have nothing to be sorry for,” she breathed, watching him shift to look at her. She toyed with the ends of his hair, tangling and untangling her hands through the locks. She rested her forehead against his, breathing him in for a moment. He played with the laces on the back of her dress as he stared at her.

“What if this...is a dream? And if it isn’t...do I deserve this?” he asked as she tugged lightly on his hair. The water from the touch ran down her fingers.

She kissed the tip of his nose, closing her eyes. “It’s not about deserving.” Amani was right. Of course she was right. Sure it was a bit cheesy, but it sounded right.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open as she smiled at him. “It’s about wanting. So tell me, do you want this? Do you...want me?”

His kiss was desperate, pleading. Like he could fit everything he felt into the simple touch, arms shaking as he held her closer. She buried her hands in his hair, hoping she was conveying what she felt back.

Maybe it was okay to be selfish.

Just this once.

When she pulled away, she flicked the tip of his nose. He wrinkled it at the touch, making her giggle with a tiny smile. “Don’t sound like me. It doesn’t go well.”

He laughed, nipping at her lower lip. “It really doesn’t.”

“Thank you though. For...the dog. It’s adorable.”

“You’re...welcome.”

“I’ll be sure to get you something in return.”

He laughed, tapping his fingers on her back. It seemed like a tic. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh but I must! Where I come from we have gift wars. And besides, now that you’ve kissed me it’ll be even harder to get rid of me now.”

He pecked her cheek, squishing it with the force making her giggle. “Good thing I don’t want you to go.” He rubbed his nose against hers, his grin infectious. “Oh, and I like you. Romantically. If that wasn’t obvious.”

She snorted, then grinned back at him. She couldn’t really fight the grin, and it made her whole face scrunch up. Like she couldn’t contain how happy she was in one look. She threw her head back, opening her eyes to stare up at the swirling clouds. Water ran down her cheeks as she looked back at him.

He stared at her in wonder, brushing her hair away from her lip. He touched her cheek with his knuckles, wiping the rain away. “You’re glowing.”

Her smile grew shy as she bit her lower lip, heat rising to her face and ears. “Yeah. I um...do that when I’m...happy.” She fiddled with the ends of his hair, reaching up to slick his hair back again.

“You’re...beautiful,” he breathed.

She felt her face redden, hiding behind her hair.

He let out a shuddering breath. “A-And I don’t want you to go. Is...that selfish of me?”

She gnawed on her lower lip, still hiding behind her hair. She felt dizzy. Tipsy. Buzzing.

Alive.

For the first time in a long while she allowed herself to feel alive.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, chipping away at the curtain she had put between them.

Chipping away at the walls she put up.

“No,” she whispered, reaching out to hold his face in her hands. The rain flattened his curls into the slicked back style she had set it in. She brushed the water away from his eyes. Now with another grin climbing onto her face, the butterflies filled her with that delicious electric feeling. “It’s decidedly not selfish.”

His smile was a slow climb across his face, lighting up his eyes. She liked his smile. All of his smiles. “And who ruled that?”

She kissed him again, running her hands through his now soaked hair. “Me. And we all know my decisions are true and final.”

“Not all of them I hope.”

“H-Huh?”

“I want to see you again. So please don’t...don’t leave.”

She looked away from him, letting out a tiny breath. Her bangs fell into her eyes. “I’m...I’m so sorry Lucas.”

“And why are you sorry?”

“I don’t...want to hurt you.”

He kissed her cheek again, blowing softly to make her smile. She stamped the smile down. “You won’t.”

She turned her head to argue. “But I will! I’m...I’m dangerous! I hurt everyone I touch. I...ruin everything.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And you think I’m not dangerous?”

“But-”

“Maeve. You don’t scare me. Whatever threats you’re gonna make to keep me away won’t. Not...again.”

“I’m not...a good person Lucas. I’m not good like you, so why...why do you…?”

“Like you? Thumbelina, you make it sound like I’m a saint. I’m...probably a worse person than you.”

“I doubt it.”

He sighed, it sounded heavy. Like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She wondered if he’d let her help carry it.

“No I definitely am. And if you said I could want this.” His eyes snapped up to hers, holding her gaze. “Then so can you. I like you because you’re...nice to be around. Electric. I feel funny around you. I thought I was sick at first.”

Lovesick.

She flinched at the thought. No. Not lovesick. He didn’t love her.

Well. Maybe he did.

But she knew neither of them were ready to admit it. And that was okay.

“I like you too,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. “Romantically.”

Standing out here in the rain, they were going to get sick. She didn’t mind, as long as she was with him.

...oh great she was turning into a sap like her dad.

“Please don’t go,” he whispered back.

She kissed him again, he tasted sweet. Like sugar. And rain. He was starting to smell like a wet dog though. She...didn’t mind. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

She bit her lip once, before letting her smile climb back onto her face. “Promise. But.” Oh no puppy dog eyes. “I should get home.” She smoothed his hair back with her hands, playing with the curl over his eyes. “We’ll get sick standing out here.”

“Spend the night with me?” he blurted out, making her eyes widen. She let out a tiny squeak, his face reddened. “S-Sorry! T-Too soon.”

“You’d...want to spend the evening with me?”

“It um...gets lonely with only Jolie around,” he murmured, getting redder by the second. “Amani swings by but she’s um...not always around.”

She was smiling so much her face hurt, this one being flustered and almost ecstatic. “Well if you’re okay with it, I’d be happy to spend the night.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Promised I wouldn’t leave. But you can put me down. I have two legs that are decidedly, not broken.”

“Well I’m going to hold you to your promise. And those heels look like they hurt.”

“Oh no they’re broken in and quite comfortable-”

He kissed her cheeks and all over her face to get her to shut up. She snorted as he shifted to princess carry her. “They look painful.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. “Maybe a little.”

She wrung her hair out, hunched over his bathtub. Her dress dripped onto the tile, stuck to her skin.

He coughed from his place in the doorway.

“Enter!” she sang, making him chuckle.

“I brought you something to wear. Can’t have you catching a cold. And it’s one of my shirts so...sorry if it’s a bit big.”

“I don’t mind. Though a bit would be an understatement.” She looked over her shoulder, offering him a lopsided smile. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.”

His eyes widened a little and smiled sheepishly. “It’s um...no problem! Sorry I kept you out in the rain as long as I did. That conversation would’ve been better inside where it’s dry.”

She winked, sticking her tongue out. “If I get sick I’m blaming you then.”

He laughed. “At least it washed the flour from your hair.”

“Low blow mister, low blow.”

He smiled and it fell into a more comfortable silence. He kept his gaze on the wet fabric gathered at her knees.

“Hey...do you mind me asking something? Sorry if it’s out of...nowhere. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

She hummed a little, turning back around to keep wringing out her hair. “Ask away.”

“Do you just wear the same dress every day? I only see you in this one. It’s pretty but um...”

She laughed, cutting him off. “No, I don’t wear the same dress. I bought a lot of the same fabric by accident and I didn't want it to go to waste so I made the same dress many times over and decided to wear it as a uniform of sorts. Same pattern but when I got bored I embroidered little things onto each dress.”

“Oh? What stuff did you embroider?”

“S-Stars mostly. Moons sometimes. I do flowers as well. Just um...little things.”

“Can...I see?"

“Sure! I need help getting this off anyways. The laces stick and are always a pain when they get wet.”

“I-I can help with that!” She could hear him shuffle closer, her back stiffening a little as he touched her.

“T-Thank you darling.”

He let out a tiny whine at the nickname. “S-Sorry just um…”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I won’t say it.”

He traced the stars she sewed into the back of her dress, making her twitch. “No no, I like it. A lot. But I just uh didn’t expect it so um…”

“You’re blushing.”

“...maybe.”

She smiled, brushing her hands down the length of her hair, treasuring the magic she felt. He started unlacing her dress, pushing it off a little to kiss her shoulders. She let out a squeak, arching her back. “The stars are lovely,” he whispered. “You’re very talented.” His breath was warm against her skin, his teeth grazing her shoulders.

Tease.

“C-Comes with practice,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “I can do something similar to one of your shirts if you’d like.” She thought back to the little dogs. The way he’d whine and chuff like one. “Maybe paw prints?”

He froze. “W-Would you? Do that. For me?”

“M-Mhm!”

He smiled, moving over to kiss her cheek. “I’ll leave you to get changed, but I’ll hold you to that.”

She shifted, pressing a chaste kiss to his lower lip. “I’ll even do it for free.”

He snorted, getting to his feet. “Lucky me.”

She grinned to herself, taking a moment to push the wet dress the rest of the way off her shoulders and tugging on the shirt he rested by the sink. It fell below her knees. She had to keep pulling it up to keep it from falling off her shoulders.

But it smelled like him.

She rested the dress over the rim of the tub, shuffling out of the bathroom with a little hum.

He was walking out of his room, rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn. She could hear Jolie’s meows from inside the room.

When he caught sight of her his face darkened. It was the darkest she’d ever seen him blush. He covered his mouth with his hand, turning his face away from her. She tilted her head, confused.

Then she remembered she was in his shirt and not wearing pants. Also glowing. Still.

She giggled, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “Keep blushing like that and you might pass out.”

He muttered something in response, moving into the bathroom to put his stuff next to hers. She watched him, amused.

Sighing as he walked out of the bathroom, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So. You’re staying the night.” She was indeed. “I um. Only have one bed.”

Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, she blew her hair out of her face. “I can sleep on the couch if you like.”

He blinked at her. “But that would make me a rude host!”

She moved closer to him, a tiny smug grin creeping onto her face “...mmm that sounds like a ploy to get me into bed with you,” she teased, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him softly and nip at his lower lip.

He hummed, nipping back. “Well when you put it that way.”

“There was only one bed,” she sang, pulling away from him but taking his hand as she danced around. She lifted his arm up to duck under it, spinning so he’d hold her close. She grinned up at him. “What shall our two protagonists do on this dark, cold and stormy night?”

He laughed, untangling her and spinning her around gently. “Hmmm…cuddle for warmth?” he joked.

She giggled, swaying a little. “Oooh I like the sound of that. Giving up a little space in your bed for little ol’ me?”

“I think I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” She kissed his chin, making him snort.

She twirled the curl above his eye around her finger with a little hum. “What say we get some sleep and hope the rains gone in the morning?”

He kissed her palm, smiling a little. “Sounds okay to me.”

Still humming and holding his hand he led her into his room, calling out for Jolie and blowing out the candles along the way.

She let go of his hand and plopped herself on the edge of his bed, scooting back enough to be able to swing her legs.

Swinging her legs, she smiled. “Giant.”

He snorted, moving closer to her. He caged her legs between his, pushing her hair behind her ears. “Thumbelina.”

She hummed a little, pushing his hair back from his face, thumbs messing with the piercing under his lower lip as he untangled some of her curls.

“I really hope I’m not dreaming right now,” she blurted out. “I will fight a god if I am.”

He snorted, kissing her forehead. “Well it would also suck for me since I’m dreaming the same thing. By the way you smell too real for this to be a dream.”

She laughed, tugging a little on his hair. His hair was so soft. She liked running her hands through it.

He shifted to lay on the bed, playing with her hair still.

With a dramatic sigh, she flopped on her back, smacking his nose with her hand. He yelped, making her giggle. With a small huff, he rolled over on top of her. She let out a tiny squawk at the weight.

“Get off of me you’re heavy, ma mhuirnín!”

“Oh? What does that mean? Another insult?” he teased, prodding at her sides.

She scowled, swatting his hands away. “Oh don’t start that again. You and your whole; ‘woe is me! I have been insulted in another language even though the words sound nothing like an insult and she was using a different tone! I shall storm off in a heated rage and fall onto my fainting couch with the vapors!’” She held the back of her hand to her forehead in a swoon.

He stuck his tongue out at her. “I don’t sound like that!”

“I shall sleep for ten days and when I wake I shall be miserable and a bore about the rain once more!” she continued on, giggling so hard she shook.

He squished her face in his hands with a mock glower. “Hey!”

She was laughing so hard he had to fight his smile. “Then I shall begin the period of brooding!”

“I do not brood!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Not!”

“Yes you do!”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “Hmph I regret my decision in letting you share my bed.”

She smiled, rubbing her nose against his, smoothing out the wrinkles with her thumbs. “No you don’t. You just love me.”

“Can call my appreciation of you into question at this point. I do not brood.”

She kissed him, wrapped her arms around his neck. She giggled as he shifted forward, curling her legs around his waist. “Oh yes you do.”

He let out another grunt low in his throat. “Do not.” Even with how crabby he was playing off to be, he moved her arms away from his neck and interlocked their hands above her head.

“Yes you do,” she whispered with a large smile.

He glowered. “Not.”

“Do.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Oh you like me.”

He sighed, staring down at her. His hair hung around his face, still damp from the rain. Hers was spread out around her head like a halo. She grinned back up at him. Her nose scrunched up with the smile. “You like like me~” she sang.

He let out a dramatic sigh, kissing the tip of her nose. “Yes I do. But I don’t brood.”

She cleared her throat dramatically. “There once was a man named Lucas; He was sweet to kiss but a liar; I'm afraid he won't get a pyre; But I will sing in that choir; For my Lucas is a liar and a cheat; He does brood indeed, he's not very discreet; But through rain or sleet I shall stay with that liar of mine even if he becomes a beet; For he does brood, even if it's bittersweet!”

He blinked. “Did...did you...just make up a poem about me brooding?”

She batted her lashes. “I am a lady of many talents.”

“It even rhymed.”

She bit her lip while smiling. “It did indeed! I am magical and wonderful.”

He snorted, kissing her softly. It was lazy as he scooted them farther up the bed. He let go of her hands as she moved to lay on the pillows.

He settled down on her stomach, resting his chin on his arms. His legs still hung off the bed.

She snorted, playing with his hair. “You really are a Giant.”

He moved off his arm to grab her hand, kissing her palm. “You’re tiny, Thumbelina.”

“Ugh I cannot believe you gave me an ugly nickname.”

His face scrunched up in offense. “Well I thought it was pretty! Isn’t that what matters?”

“What if you say it and someone thinks I’m ugly?” she joked.

“I doubt anyone I know hasn’t seen or heard of you before.”

“You talk about me a lot?”

He looked away from her. The shirt she was wearing bunched up at her thighs.

“Well...sometimes.”

She giggled softly, brushing the corner of his mouth with her thumb. His lips were soft. “C’mon now,” she whispered, tugging on his arm. “I’ll blow the candle out.”

He leaned into her touch, moving off her stomach and up to the pillow beside her.

With a gentle puff, the only light in the room was out. It just left them, the soft pattering of rain, and Jolie meowing.

Lucas softly called the cat up on the bed as she settled under the covers. They were worn but soft and warm.

She could feel him shift beside her, then watched herself be reflected in his eyes.

“By the way, you make my heart flutter and skip a beat.”

She let out a startled snort, pushing his face away from hers. “Ugh don’t be sappy you’re gonna make me feel things!”

He laughed, face squished under her hands. “Oh? Like what?”

She stuck her tongue out. “I don’t wanna be mushy this late at night!”

“Well I do, so too bad.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t ‘hmph’ me. It’s taken you so long to let us get to this point, let me bask in the feeling I have from this.”

“Heart skipping a beat?”

“Many beats.”

“Mmm those are symptoms of a heart palpitation.”

He flicked her nose, making her squeak. “Don’t kill my high with your doctoring, thank you.”

“Doctoring?!”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. “It’s very endearing but right now I am showering you in affection.”

“This is a cruel and unusual punishment,” she sulked.

“Punishment?”

“You’re the one who deserves affection. Not me.”

“Maeve, that is a stupid thing to think. It’s affection. Whether you deserve it or not is out of the question. I have it to give, and I want to give it to you because it’s how I feel.”

He sounded so...stubborn. Like a bull. He wasn’t going to budge on this one. She turned away from him, twirling her hair around her finger nervously. “S-Sorry.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Don’t apologize. It’s just something I want to do. Okay?”

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her voice a soft murmur. “Okay.”

“Get some sleep now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Today hadn’t been exhausting in the slightest, but she was coming down from her happy high. That being paired with how warm he was, the sound and smell of the rain coming down, she was...sleepy.

She let out a breath. He did still smell like wet dog. But there was the hint of cinnamon she missed.

He was here with her. Maybe it was real. Maybe it wasn’t. She hoped it was real though.

“Good...night.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #my writing #maeve #lucas #maeve x lucas #maevas #hm feelings gross #I am a simple Shade #kisses in the rain have my whole heart #and I don't take criticism

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animeloversworldsblog · 4 years

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Rant about shikama doji and hiragis-clan

I don't understand why people say that hiragis are victims from shikama, yes sure they were created from this bastard but still are the same shit as him.

Even if kagami say that are not good or bad characters we should realized that are ones because if that the case then we should justify every damn evil character in anime, manga, novel, movie, serie etc, for the simple fact "it's must be a reason or was for one reason". But kamagi want to redeem hiragis family so bad with mahiru shit and even kureto shit and even (for christ's sake) tenri, that fails completely (don't you think kagami that i didn't see it bcs you always try to portrait mahiru and kureto like poor angels and victim, and that apply to tenri and sheishiro, especially when it cames from mahiru bitch, (and yeah whatever, she is it, i just don’t care anymore)

It's simple hiragis are bad people they have nothing good at all. How they can be victims? What about all the people was in their hands? What are they?

They are incredible selfish people that think are the only ones that have right no matter what. If we are gonna justify that killing people all over again for the reason "is for humankind" is bullshit. It is only to satiate their thirst for power, and that has been seen both in the novel and in the manga, to be more and more powerful.

If the case is "justification" then we can justify shikama doji here too (extreme sarcasm). Shikama lost his precious son right (more sarcasm) so in this case would be..

Shikama doji lost his son so he is doing all of this to revive his death son, so he destroyed the world for that, and killed millions for his selfish goal, poor shikama (bullshit as hell, evil shit). Not evil character bcs he has a reason.

Mahiru she did all what she did to protect shinoa, she didn't have choice to became in demon to the purpose to save the world, used guren and destroyed him in so many possibles ways bcs she loved him so deeply and want to be her strength so he could save the world and killed shinya and the rest was a purpose to save the world, poor mahiru (god more bullshit) (and for let it clear I'm being sarcastic especially with this evil bitch). Not evil character bcs she had a reason.

Kureto he is a man that care for his subordinates and wants to created a world were they live in piece, then he killed them if they disobey him or for experimention and laugh about it, he see guren like a comrade, yet he tortured for days and his father, he care for shinoa, yet he tortured her and then threat her to killed her, kids that he brainwashed them to became soldiers, used in experimentation and like spies with vampires, and say that experiments don't have right, and all of this is just like mahiru is for save the world, poor kureto (don't let me start it again is more bullshit). Not evil character bcs he has a reason.

Shikama doji, Mahiru, Kureto = shitty evil disgusting piece of crap.

And of course I don't forget tenri hiragi and sheishiro are others shit evil disgusting piece of crap as much hiragis's clan is being do it since 1200 years.

Mahiru is not a damn savior, she made genocide and still does, to the simple reason is to "save the world"?, bcs was possessed by two demon Is the excuse? Vampire crap? All of that was just adhere to her thirst for power. Shinoa? She didn't give a crap about her, shinoa is a damn victim from both hiragis (especially from mahiru and shikama doji) and always put her in dangerous situation guren? Where? Bcs she goes just to tortured him knowing that would be trouble from him, even so she didn't care and was manipulating him since 5 and after ten years and more having now 24 to save the damn world? (And this is the most abusive and destructive relationship i've ever seen and without love from both parts, don't talk to me about guren love her is no more than emotional abuse) Shinya that she cared from him, after massacred him bcs she hated him so bad, and the rest even that was a purpose to save the world? ( i dont know at this point if I have to laugh or cry for all the things I've been reading and I can continue, even if kagami in the end put that like a reason, and i wouldn't be surprise if he try to revive mahiru, bcs she was the most innocent victim and the most perfect girl ever).

Like she loved guren the most so she pushed him to become more powerful, even if that means eliminate, his followers, his family and his most precious friends,("elimate your weakness your pathetic attachments bcs that doesn't let you be strong", but he has to be attachment to her lol psycho bitch) which actually was her plan and that not apply in save the world, was just eliminated all what guren loved to have her for herself, (psycho bitch that enjoy the pain she caused to her "most beloved man", don't get me started in how she laughed and enjoyed when his father died and his friends and all was things she hated) because that was her great love for him, to be her strength to face everything that would come and that want of the good things guren had was met her when she was a child, even so she saw all ichinose clan like trash, even guren, people forget that she wants her father goes to them to piss him off (which that means dead flag to them, the worst that could happened to guren was met her like seriously even if saito planned it and helped her to get her revenge still was the worst to guren and goes after someone else for being an insane girl to hurt a sweet child, yeah so sweet and innocent cute girl) And even using shinoa to manipulate others by making them believe that she was always a poor innocent and sweet girl who suffered a lot, and as long as she used shinoa in that it gave her the right to commit genocide and so much garbage that she has done, with the purpose is for a good reason and it is justifiable, such as reading that it was okay to kill Shinya and the others because otherwise tenri would have done it, or that she has a good humanity in her that has done everything she has done to save the world, or that her demonic self was still mess up with her when she turned on in vampire (lmao mahiru always was her true self, she just love power more than anything in the world) and again she is not a savior or is helping guren to keep him alive to give him a reason to live, because guren is not free to live under his terms, but under her terms, is always being like that since the moment he met her; everything in Mahiru is nothing but false in her, false emotions, false feelings, the human mahiru is nothing but a hideous monster, A human monster that want to surprass god but she can't even do every single shit without making every single life misery. (And used saito helps, he gave her what she wanted and even so this other shit said she was crazy since the beginning and was terrible person, so a great genius that made all by herself is not true). kagami doesn't more than blame all in her demons, which in reality she was a rotten child, and a teenager one, she always was greedy and always was about herself no other one, not even guren, or her sister

Kureto is the same as her, he thinks bcs he had a high status can make with people and children whatever he wants, maybe has some sanity,(and has sanity doesn't make someone weak for god's sake and i talk here for guren not kureto) and is not vengative since child like mahiru that was a damn vengative monster since child with the idea to make kill all ichinose clan and a sweet innocent boy where she started to abused and destroy him mentally, emotionally, psychologically and Physically she was and is a psycho. And i understand that no everybody can survive in the world, and are difficult choices to make but killing people to created weapons using children to overpower hiragis that is not even an option, he is an abusive and a tortured bastard still is the same shit and a terrible person.("those who killed without a reason are evil", yeah to overpower you, bcs you are an angel. "Kill me or save me", pathetic bastard)

Hiragis especially mahiru, kureto say that want to make a better world but humans can't do it without breaking any taboo; there must be a price to human to pay, hiragis who is in control, desire for more power to become the greatest.. Doesn't care about destroying the world. How egoistic. Hiragis like demon- self centric. They don't care enough about people around them that is why they say that love, family and friendship is weakness.

That is why all of hiragis are all the same. They seek for power--true power, they want to dominate everything even it if was humankind. They don't really care about human in general, if they can gain more power just from destroying japan, then why not? They can just rebuild it by the power of seraph and make it a better place, with more powerfull human being etc. If its cursed then why they're so greedy, abusive, and manipulative towards others? If they know it was their sins why they don't even try to change your own destiny, but you just follow your own selfish desire and make everyone lifes miserable. How can you rebuild your own idealism about world when you can't even control your greedines for power? I get it ONS world are more like gray area that you can't even know what is right or wrong--but doesnt mean humanity never exist you know. People always blaming guren for everything because he is selfish prick that doesn't want his family to be gone forever, he still a child in heart that never tried to move on from grieving his own family, and destroyed humanity just for his selfishness. Dude, aren't Mika and Yuu are the same? They want their family to still alive, and they want to take revenge for people who have killed their family, while guren? Did he ever tried to seek any revenge on hiiragi's family? He was, but never actually do it in the end and still pitied THEM. @lottenoir

Is incredible how hiragis selfishness can be easy justifies and be poor victims in all of this just because they were created to be used for bastard shikama doji, but I think is so much hipocrasy. (kagami just want to portrait hiragis like victims and it's look like it works at least on the fandom for shikama but their creator is as shitty as mahiru, kureto, tenri and sheishiro and fails so bad in that, he can't even make a descent plot and ruins good characters thank to deal to hiragis shit)

Shikamadoji, mahiru, kureto,tenri, sheishiro= disgusting piece of shit that must be eliminate for good.

Victims (real ones) guren, shinya, shinoa, mito, goshi, sayuri, shigure, and all the people that suffered and died in their hands. (i don't even gonna mention yuu and mika like victims here bcs honestly they aren't either at this point, are the same has hiragis in greedy selfishnes and don't give a crap about the world and people in general)

The hiragis do not have an ideology to protect, nor allies to trust, they see fraternal and family ties as mere tools, hiragis like shikama are pathetic. For them, to survive in that cruel world, nothing is needed but power. Ideals and ideology are just worthless talk.

That is why I see characters (guren, shinya guren's squad) that despite living in a cruel world, know why living, even in a dark world, life goes on, it is not always about becoming the most powerful, and killing to give themselves power, it is about survive, live, is about that they have a mission, things to protect, the ideals of each one, their hopes, those are the ones that make their ideals come true, they sacrifice their lives for others, knowing that many will die on the way, nobody can turn off that last light, in the that those characters believe. (Schwarzesmarken words).

Ons has a Gray Area, they are character that get in there but those characters goes more to be good person with mistakes and flaws. And those characters have belief, values, try to get better and have feels and emotions towards others.

Hiragis and others one (like yuu, mika, shikama, saito,ferid, krul, etc) goes to the area of being bad or evil characters no matter how much kagami try to portrait them or redeem them and is just like that, most of those characters just focus in their damn selfishness crap not other people or the world, and most of the vampires are as shit as hiragis. (don't you think kagami that i don't see how you continue to try so bad to redeem shitty hiragis, with that crap about "the hiragis are not to blame bcs they were created to be used" bulshit as hell, put yourself together man, your plot about them and others characters is horrible, with so many holes and incongruities, but oh well keep going with your poor mahiru, kureto, hiragi family and others, instead to give them justice to the only decent characters that you still have and still ruin, no so many bullshit about "there aren't good or bad characters" keep going to show the bad characters like good ones, and good characters like evil shit lol, what a lie, and you say guren is your fave? Lol poor guren, you not even give justice to him nor shinya, I couldn't even with catastrophe at 16 and your bullshit with mahiru and the others like no one was better than her, not even the other girls, the perfect one and the insignificant others girl,poor the other girls, that can't be as godnees as her, and people in general, oh and your bullshit about guren was weak when actually is not, and has to be in the most destructive and abusive relationship, actually not even was one at all, just emotional abuse, not love, not exs, and it sickness even think about their love with mahiru than didn't do more than abuse a DAMN GOOD MAN like guren and others people and make guren look to everyone like the evil character thanks to her, the most horrible murder, genocide bastard, but no one blame her instead blame guren for all her shit and one can't see guren is being abused from her since child, where is the love? Please give me a break, and thanks to you that keep going with her bullshit guren is the most hate one, and whatever at this point I just don't care anymore is so many stupid things about it and is just sickness and no funny at all)

To hiragis being weak don't let you became strong but can we appreciate this instead all their bullshit..

You're going to meet many people with domineering personalities: the loud, the obnoxious, those that noisily stake their claims in your territory and everywhere else they set foot on. This is the blueprint of a predator. Predators prey on gentleness, peace, calmness, sweetness and any positivity that they sniff out as weakness. Anything that is happy and at peace they mistake for weakness. It's not your job to change these people, but it's your job to show them that your peace and gentleness do not equate to weakness. I have always appeared to be fragile and delicate but the thing is, I am not fragile and I am not delicate. I am very gentle but I can show you that the gentle also possess a poison. I compare myself to silk. People mistake silk to be weak but a silk handkerchief can protect the wearer from a gunshot. There are many people who will want to befriend you if you fit the description of what they think is weak; predators want to have friends that they can dominate over because that makes them feel strong and important. The truth is that predators have no strength and no courage. It is you who are strong, and it is you who has courage. I have lost many a friend over the fact that when they attempt to rip me, they can't. They accuse me of being deceiving; I am not deceiving, I am just made of silk. It is they who are stupid and wrongly take gentleness and fairness for weakness. There are many more predators in this world, so I want you to be made of silk. You are silk. C. JoyBell C. (To guren ichinose and shinya hiragi)

#guren ichinose #mahiru hiragi #kureto hiragi #shikama doji #they are not more than abusives monsters #don't let me start with the crap about lust is the same as love to kagami #they abuse and manipulate people #they don't feel a shit about world or life #next mahiru-guren abusive toxic unhealthy relationship #that is why guren is being hate but no one see that #instead talk about love and is not more than emotional abuse #hiragis same shit as shikama not victims #i just don't care anymore #ons don't give justice to the real victims #and i'm sick and tired of seeing this things #and others about others characters too #whatever #and don't let me started with yuu and mika bcs are not good characters at all #and i can say so much about them #but i don't give a crap about selfish brats that don't understand a shit about nothing #this is just a rant no personal attack #maybe i shouldn't put this on the tags #bcs is more a rant than other thing and i don't understand people call hiragis victims #but i'm really tired about kagami and his bullshit #sorry i have to say it

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cakesunflower · 5 years

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No Need Convincing Me [Tattoo Artist!Calum AU] Part 5

Summary: Elodie Banks hadn’t expected to get so caught up in her best friend’s tattoo artist. But all it took was one meeting with Calum Hood for Elodie to feel herself drawing towards him and the ink on his skin. Maybe once she was rid of a miserable relationship and the insecurities that came with it, she’d allow herself to realize that Calum was just as wrapped up in her.

A/N: i’m not entirely satisfied with the end but like. i just needed it to be done. i definitely finished writing this in my medieval lit class while my professor talked about Chaucer bc fuck Chaucer he’s a lil bitch. ANYWAYS. happy reading!!!!

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Part 5

“Come on, man, it’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

Calum rolled his eyes as he and Michael crossed the street, giving a shake of his head. “Luke likes to play, just ask him.”

Michael let out a scoff, as if Calum’s suggestion was completely unsound. He sniffed, the cold late afternoon air hitting his face as they walked. “Luke dies in, like, the first minute. It’s pretty fucking pathetic,” he added with a patronizing snicker towards his best friend.

Calum huffed out a laugh, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. He almost regretted not wearing his hoodie underneath, remaining in just a shirt, as the cold weather chilled his body, the chain necklace he wore feeling like ice on his skin in addition to the breeze. He and Michael walked side by side, only stepping apart as a family shuffled past right between them before falling into step with one another as Calum said, “I’m down to play any other game with you except Fortnite. Or that weird card game.”

Throwing his head back to let out a pretty dramatic groan, earring dangling and hand flying up to the top of his head to keep his hat in place, Michael complained, “Magic: The Gathering isn’t a weird card game if you just gave it a shot!”

Calum merely smirked lazily, figuring that one day he’d give into Michael’s request and play the card game. For now he’d just let Michael sweat it out. So Calum shot his friend a look and challenged, “I’ll play the damn game when you decide to start filling in your bands—you work at a tattoo shop, for fuck’s sake.” Michael sputtered, glancing down at his tattooed arm, forgetting in that moment that he had a sweatshirt on. Calum shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t—”

He cut off right as a store door opened in his path—where was the sidewalk store etiquette of having doors open into the store?—and Calum wondered if this was some kind of universal joke as Nathan, of all of the people in this populated city, strolled out. He paused, green eyes meeting Calum’s dark brown as he fixed his damn cuff links, lips curling automatically into a sneer as he took in the sight of Calum.

And Calum couldn’t help it, he stopped as well—mostly because he had to as a way of avoiding getting hit by the door—and let out an unamused breath through his nose as he realized they were in front of the high tux shop a couple of blocks from their parlor, before his gaze returned to Nathan. He looked just as crisp and clean cut as usual as Calum eyed him, expression bemused and the corner of his lips just barely lifting into a condescending smirk. His unimpressed stare remained on Nathan while he drawled to Michael, “This fuckin’ guy.”

He heard Michael let out a displeased scoff of his own while Nathan merely smirked as he mused, “Tell me—is the tattoo profession truly that slow since you and your employee here can afford walking around the city during business hours? Seems like I only ever see you out of your shop, pal.”

Nathan was obviously goading him, or at least trying to, a not-so-subtle dig at Calum’s choice of career. Not that Nathan trying to paint himself as the more successful of them had any effect on Calum; the tattoo artist knew his business was doing better than great, and he was pretty damn happy and content with his life. Nothing a bitter, petty, and asshole of a man could say would make any of that less true.

“Funny, I was just gonna say I’ve been seein’ a bit too much of you,” Calum responded, his tone flat and sounding just as uninterested as he was.

It was also meant to be the last thing Calum was going to say to Nathan, exchanging a bored look with Michael just as the words left his lips before the two of them went to side step him and continued on their way. They were just about to merge back into the sidewalk traffic when Nathan spoke up once more, “That’ll happen if you glue yourself to Elodie. How much longer are you planning on doing that, by the way? Being so codependent isn’t healthy, you know.”

A soft yet disbelieving breath escaped Calum’s lips at Nathan’s words, eyes rolling skywards as he wondered if the mad bastard really just uttered that statement. Calum would’ve laughed at Nathan’s hypocricy in regards to healthy relationships—who the fuck was he, of all people, to try and give advice on those?—if it weren’t for the irritation so quickly beginning to burn his blood. Was this guy really so blind to think that what he did to Elodie was normal? It concerned Calum if that was true; the reminder of what she had to endure in a relationship with someone like Nathan twisted Calum’s stomach in uneasy anger. No one deserved to be treated the way Nathan treated Elodie, and knowing that someone Calum was so quickly coming to care about had to go through that only further pissed him off. And to think that Nathan thought that Calum being with Elodie was something that had an expiration date on it, he was sorely mistaken. Calum didn’t plan on it, and he could only hope, though he may kind of know, that Elodie didn’t, either.

Calum could’ve easily been the bigger man and continued walking, ignoring Nathan and his taunts that didn’t effect Calum. But he also didn’t want Nathan walking away thinking his behavior and words were so easily done without him being put in his place. Calum wasn’t too keen on being given the responsibility of being the one to do so, but then Elodie’s face flashed in his mind; her brown eyes and soft hair and gentle smile and the kind tone she spoke in, and Calum didn’t mind anymore. He found himself realizing, as a smile threatened to quirk at his lips for no reason other than just thinking about Elodie, that he’d probably do anything for her already. He was fine with that.

Calum and Elodie weren’t codependent, not by a long shot; they were just getting to know each other, a journey they were both enjoying and didn’t want to end. So he wasn’t even going to acknowledge that part of Nathan’s empty taunt. Instead, he just turned around, catching Michael’s semi-amused huff, and tilted his chin at Nathan. “At least I’m not a controlling bastard like you.” With a cock of his head, Calum pushed smugly, “Isn’t that why your unhealthy relationship died?” Calum clicked his tongue in mock empathy. “Must be shit to not have control over someone and lose ’em.”

He saw the effect his words had on Nathan, who had proven to not being as good as Calum in keeping himself in check, as the snide smirk on his lips dissipated as his jaw clenched and gaze hardened, lips twitching into a frown he couldn’t contain. Even so, Calum couldn’t tell if Nathan was more bothered by the comment of him being controlling, or the reminder that Elodie ended their relationship.

Instead of lashing out, Nathan took a step towards Calum, a single click of the heel of his fancy ass dress shoes as Calum felt Michael tense up ever so slightly. But Nathan’s gaze remained on Calum, who kept his gaze on him evenly. Nathan’s green eyes were brimming with a familiar fire and his teeth gritted as he threatened in a low, taut tone, “She’s never going to love someone like you.”

It was almost amusing how Nathan thought that was for him to decide. Calum cared for no one’s opinion but Elodie’s, and he wasn’t going to let a selfish, bitter ex of hers influence his thoughts. Love was some ways away for now—but with Elodie, Calum had a feeling he was on the track, given just how fast and quickly he fell for her. And, shit, did he revel in it. So Calum’s dark eyes narrowed slightly but remained on Nathan’s green, hands that were still in the pockets of his leather jacket forming into tight fists as he returned assertively, just a hint of ridicule, “Are you speaking from experience?”

He was well aware that his words were fuel to an already brimming fire, and Calum picked up on the instant shift of Nathan’s expression, saw the severe temper Calum provoked darken his green eyes and the twitch of his lips threatening into a snarl. But Calum was unapologetic, didn’t care that he was reminding the bastard of how shitty his relationship was despite whatever delusion he’d put himself into. Calum was still unapologetic when Nathan pulled back his hand in one second and slammed the knuckles of his fist into the bone of Calum’s cheek.

There was an instant numbing sting that settled in Calum’s face, forced to stumble only a single step back from the force Nathan put behind the punch. Calum was more surprised by the power behind the hit than the actual hit itself, head turning by the punch as it shocked through his face. He was only barely aware of Michael’s protesting shout, didn’t care for the fact that they were on the sidewalk and a few people had looked over upon the violent action. All Calum could focus on was the sting on one side of his face, his own fury thrumming to life as he clenched his jaw, the action only causing a newfound ache, facing the right as his head had turned upon the punch. There were a couple of middle aged women who’d saw what just happened, completely forgetting that they were going to cross the street and instead watching with wide, incredulous eyes.

Calum’s lips parted, slowly dragging his gaze back to Nathan as he licked the inside of his lower lip in provoked acceptance that this was how it was going to be. He almost smirked when Nathan followed his actions with words unsteady because of barely contained anger, “She was lucky to have me. Now she’ll just go back to being absolutely nothing.”

Almost.

But then Nathan had to bring Elodie’s worth into it, something Calum understood neither he nor Nathan could live up to, and any pain of his cheek disappeared as Calum decided, in that split second, to not hold back.

There was no hope for Calum to remain unaffected by Nathan’s jeer, or his presumptuous attitude of being someone who made Elodie anything but unjustifiably insecure and timid, and he ignored Michael’s attempts of pulling him away. Calum felt his muscles tighten as his fingers curled into a fist, his blunt nails digging into his palms, lips curving into an animalistic snarl as he swung his own fist forward.

The first thing Calum noticed was the sharp pain in his fingers as his knuckles dug right into Nathan’s nose because he’d definitely broken it. The second thing Calum noticed was Michael’s startled, “Jesus, fuck!”. And the third thing Calum noticed as Nathan stumbled backwards, much more than Calum had, and Calum’s hand uncurled was the bit of blood that was now tainting his fingers and rings.

Nathan ended up on the ground, a shout of pain escaping him as he brought his hands up to his face, the crimson color painting his skin and dripping right down to stain his probably expensive suit. Calum stood over him, looking down at the bleeding man as his hand hung beside him, the adrenaline pumping through his veins fueled by a wrath he hadn’t known himself capable of numbing him to the pain he was probably going to feel soon in both his face and hand.

But he was aware of the eyes that were watching them, people minding their own business but observing the scene that had just unfolded, yet Calum kept his fiery gaze on Nathan, feeling Michael’s hand on his shoulder. Not an ounce of regret tainted Calum, the beat of his heart only racing due to the adrenaline stemming from the anger Nathan’s words brought. Calum’s jaw clenched, vaguely aware of the sting on his cheek because of the action, but he didn’t care. No fucking way was he going to let this bastard say shit about Elodie and allow him to walk away without repercussions.

“You fuck—” Nathan sputtered through a thick voice, words muffled and disgruntled by his hands holding his nose and the blood that was pouring from it, his eyes widened in pain and incredulity and infuriation as he looked up at them. Calum felt a swell of satisfaction at the sight of him; on his ass on the sidewalk, expensive looking suit getting stained with blood, and not at all looking as put together as he’d like to. “You broke my fucking nose!”

Calum briefly raised his eyebrows, features set and hardened, hyper aware of the warm blood on his own skin. “It was either that or your arm,” he responded briskly, reminding Nathan of his promise from Dominique’s birthday party, to which the fallen man sputtered out something incoherent. “I would’ve preferred both.”

Nathan pushed himself up, a smear of blood on the pavement as he used one hand to get to his feet. His other hand remained on his nose, the crimson blood visible through his fingers, and blonde hair disheveled from the fall. Green eyes enraged, Nathan demanded, “You think you can get away with putting your han—”

“It was self defense, asshole,” Michael spoke up, his own voice tight once he’d gotten over his brief surprise of how quickly things had escalated. “You punched him first and there are loads of witnesses to attest to that. Fucking try.”

Calum pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his lower teeth, forcefully as he fought the sneer from curling at his lips again, feeling the muscles in his face subtly twitch in protest. This guy—this motherfucker who hurt Elodie with his words and treatment—deserved any kind of pain Calum may have just inflicted upon him. He deserved to feel any semblance of an ache like he caused Elodie, and Calum was more than willing to be the physical enforcer of it. He was proud of her for sticking up for herself, for getting herself out of the situation, but that didn’t mean Calum couldn’t offer his services.

Sure, he’d known her only for a short time but, shit, he’d do it for her.

Nathan fumbled incoherently once more, stupidly, trying and failing to find words to defend himself, to find the kind of words he’d utter to hurt Elodie and throw them in Calum’s face. Hell, if Nathan even tried, he was a bigger idiot than Calum already thought of him as.

So he left him with a simple and honest warning in a tone that left no room for niceties. “You try to talk shit ’bout Elodie again, and I’ll take a couple-a-teeth out, too.”

*****

The second the door to Calum’s apartment swung open, Elodie’s instinctual reaction was to look down at his dominant hand to visually inspect it. The air had rushed out of her lungs the second she’d received Dominique’s text earlier, praising Calum for punching Nathan so hard that he broke his nose, which was the first time Elodie had even heard about the incident. She’d been in her three hour film lecture, only receiving the texts once she was out of class, and had needed to stop walking to make sure she was reading Dominique’s text correctly.

Calum had punched Nathan. He’d broken his nose. And Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how she should feel that the first thought that popped into her head following the news wasn’t to be afraid of Calum, but was to be worried about his hand.

Because as well as Elodie thought she’d known Nathan for the years they grew up together and the months they were dating, it felt like nothing compared to how she was getting to know Calum. With him, nothing felt off limits, there were no egg shells to walk on, no temper to be uneasy around. If Calum punched Nathan, Elodie instinctively knew it was for a good reason. And it felt crazy to her, how easy it felt with Calum; unrestrained and comfortable and good. Maybe that’s why she wanted to see him right away. Because with Nathan, all she ever wanted to do when his temper flared was to get away.

So when the door opened, Elodie’s gaze flickered down to his hand briefly before her worried brown eyes met Calum’s surprisingly sheepish ones, feeling her chest swell happily at the mere sight of him until she took in the slight discoloration on his left cheek. Elodie’s lips parted at the bruise that bloomed on the swell of his cheek, chest sinking with the sharp breath that escaped her as the words, “Are you okay?” tumbled out of her mouth immediately.

She hadn’t been aware that Nathan had gotten a hit in, too. Not nearly as strong, but still. The sight of the injury twisted Elodie’s stomach—the knowledge of it being caused by her ex only worsened it.

But Calum, quickly becoming a light, only smiled through a breathless chuckle and reassured, “I’m fine, doll,” before ducking his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, Elodie’s mouth automatically puckering to accept the kiss before moving further into the apartment. Paws clattered across the floorboards and Calum smiled, as if he didn’t have a bruise on his face, and nodded, “Duke’s just as excited to see you.”

She picked up the dog just as he reached her, accepting and enjoying the kisses she was greeted with, with a smile on her face, though her concerned gaze remained on Calum as she watched him shut the door. Elodie mumbled a gentle, “Hi, buddy,” to Duke as she ran her fingers through his soft fur, his paws against her chest as her gaze dropped to Calum’s hand once more.

Duke wiggled out of her grasp and Elodie bent down enough for him to easily jump down, and her eyebrows knitted together as Calum tried to move past her but she stopped him, grabbing the material of his hoodie. He skidded to a stop as she maneuvered around him, her hand gently grasping his right wrist so she could lift up his hand and inspect it. Elodie’s throat tightened at the faint bruises formed on his knuckles, the color sticking out more than the glint of his rings, and the familiar uneasiness of guilt crept back into her stomach.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t break anythin’. Just iced it a bunch; the bruising will go away soon enough,” Calum told her, the reassurance ever present in his tone, and Elodie adored that he was trying to make her feel better even though he was the one who was physically injured. It only served as a reminder of how considerate Calum was, and it made falling for him that much lighter.

Elodie held his fingers in hers, her touch light as a feather out of fear of somehow irritating his bruise, and let her thumb run over the skin by his rings as she scoffed gently. “Didn’t break anything except for Nathan’s nose.” Was it wrong to feel a smile tug at her lips? She never wanted to be someone to smile at someone else’s expense, much less their pain. But knowing Calum was okay relieved some of the tension in her shoulders. Lifting her gaze, Elodie met Calum’s eyes and told him with only the tiniest bit of amusement coloring her tone, “I heard you got blood on his favorite Armani suit.”

Calum scoffed, lips quirking briefly as he looked down at Elodie holding his hand, ever so careful of touching his injury. With an almost childlike petulance, Calum countered, “He got blood on my favorite rings.”

Despite wanting to continue standing there and joking around lightheartedly, Elodie still felt the weight lingering on her shoulders, which sank when she let out a sigh and lamented, “I hate that this happened to you because of me.” Her throat worked as she eyed the bruise on his cheek, a reddish-purple color blossoming against the brown of his skin. “Do you need ice?”

“Elodie,” Calum was quick to speak up, removing his hand from her light grasp so he could place both of his hands at the sides of her face, fingers tangling into her brown locks and ducking his head to maintain eye contact. He had a habit of holding her like that, and Elodie adored it. His brown eyes were widened in encouragement, hoping she would hear his words loud and clear as he said, “This didn’t happen because of you. It happened because your ex is a dick and I’ve been known for being unable to keep my mouth shut.” His touch was warm, as always, and his words spread the same comfort his hands did as his thumb stroked her cheek. “And it was completely worth it.”

Still, Elodie found herself nibbling on her lower lip as she gazed at the bruise on his cheek and was hyper aware of his discolored knuckles as well. The heaviness in her chest wasn’t as suffocating, but it was still there as it dried her throat, and Elodie couldn’t bring herself to look Calum in the eyes anymore. Not through any fault of his own—she just had some things to work through as well, things ingrained into her by her selfish ex, and it was those same insecurities that had her whispering out, “Why is it when I’m in a relationship, someone ends up hurt?”

“Baby.” Elodie’s heart lodged itself in her throat as the term of endearment slipped from Calum’s lips, soft and raspy in his desperate voice. He’d never called her that before. She liked it. Calum gently tilted her head—more like gave it a nudge, trying to get her to do it on her own because he didn’t want to force her if she didn’t want to. But Elodie found herself lifting her gaze, lips pressing together as her eyes met Calum’s inviting brown ones. “Don’t mistake Nathan’s actions for your own. What you’ve done has allowed you to be yourself unapologetically. You’re out. You’re—”

“Happier,” Elodie finished quietly, feeling that weight lift from her shoulders with every word Calum spoke, no longer suffocating her. Her eyes remained on his as a smile tugged at her lips, hands slipping into the single front pocket of Calum’s hoodie to keep him close. Almost sheepishly, she decided to add, “Safer.”

Maybe it was too soon, maybe she was taking a leap, but that’s how she felt when she was around Calum—safe. Like being herself wasn’t something she actively had to hold back in worry of bothering him, because he liked who she was. He liked that her coffee order differed depending on the time of day she got it because she liked the inconsistency, he liked that at least one article of clothing she wore had to have some kind of floral design, he liked that she was only active on Instagram once a month to post an aesthetically pleasing picture she’d taken before closing the app until the next month arrived. It was all little things that were probably insignificant, but Calum liked them not out of his own personal preference—but because Elodie liked them in herself. And that meant more than Elodie could comprehend.

He let her be herself without fault in the near two months he’d known her than the six months she’d been with Nathan. Calum came into her life like storm and instead of wrecking it, he somehow managed to help clear a path so Elodie could fix it herself.

Elodie let out a breath, throat working as she said to him earnestly, albeit timidly, “I don’t mean to bring the mood down bringing up these. . . Insecurities.”

“You don’t ever bring the mood down, sweetheart,” came Calum’s genuine response, lips curling into the soft smile he had reserved just for her, the one that sent her heart leaping. “You make it worthwhile. C’mere.”

He pulled her in for a hug then, his embrace just as tender as his words as his arms wrapped around her frame, and Elodie pulled her hands out of Calum’s hoodie’s pocket to wrap them around his waist. She closed her eyes, cheek against the area just below his chest because God knows she can’t reach it, and lost herself in his familiar cologne and touch. Elodie felt Calum’s lips press to the top of her head before he rested his uninjured cheek against it, and she sank into his hug, into him, as his tranquility seeped into her bones.

Calum rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly, the two of them standing in a tender silence, before he murmured, “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

Elodie smiled as they pulled away, and she shrugged off her coat before following him into the open plan kitchen. It was there where she saw a pot of pasta boiling on the stove, as well as the other ingredients sitting on the counter ready to be cooked. She followed Calum, a smile tugging at her lips when she noted the boneless and skinned chicken breasts, baby spinach, garlic, parmesan, and a bunch of other ingredients waiting to be prepped.

Her heart was thrumming happily in her chest, eyes alight at the sight before her as Calum picked up the bottle of red wine on the counter and poured some for Elodie and himself. “I thought you weren’t much of a wine drinker,” she hummed as she neared him, gladly taking the glass he offered her. She remembered one of the many conversations they had as they got to know each other, found out that he preferred some good whiskey or maybe even a beer to wine.

“I am around you,” he responded with a smirk, and Elodie giggled lightly as he clinked his glass with hers before the two of them took sips of the bittersweet drink. She smiled around the rim of the glass as Calum shot her a wink over his, before lowering his and moving to go back to the other counter where the stove is. “’M making us some Tuscan chicken and spinach pasta.”

“Sounds delicious,” Elodie hummed, glass still in hand as she moved towards him, leaning against the counter but making sure she didn’t get in his way as she asked, “Can I help?”

There wasn’t much he needed for her to do, so Elodie just stood by Calum and sipped her wine as he worked—eventually he cleared some space on the counter so she could hop up, and Elodie crossed her ankles as she watched him make dinner. There was music softly playing throughout the apartment, songs similar to those she heard in the tattoo parlor, and Elodie gently swayed her head to the music and drank her wine and made conversation with the first man to ever actually make her food.

She may have snapped a picture of Calum cooking the seasons chicken, his gaze on the skillet while an amused grin quirked at his lips, aware of what she was doing. But Elodie couldn’t help it—he looked so at ease as he made the food, which had been his idea in the first place. He was the one who’d invited Elodie over to his place, told her he’d make them dinner and they could hang out, and she recalled the way her heart had melted when he offered to cook. The mere fact that he could and liked to cook was enough to have Elodie rushing over. Nevermind the fact that she loved spending time with him anyway.

They made light conversation; she talked about what she was learning in her lectures plus the new charities she brought up to her family for their foundation to support, while he disclosed the tattoos he’d just done plus a few sketches that he drew. It slipped Elodie’s mind that as a tattoo artist, Calum was also an artist, that many of the tattoos he gave his clients were ones they’d picked from his own designs. She wondered if any of the ones he had were of his own making, still wanted to sit down and ask him about every single one of the words and images inking his skin.

“I wish I was good at something,” Elodie sighed after taking another sip of the wine. She was already a glass and a half in, and it was safe to say she was beginning to feel the lightheadedness that came with drinking it. Her skin was beginning to feel warm, a happy flush on her cheeks, as she pouted. Calum had put the pasta in a big bowl and was mixing in the chicken and spinach and everything else. He quirked an eyebrow at the slight drawl her words were adopting. “All I do is go to school and cry.”

Calum knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help the amused chortle escape him as he glanced over at Elodie with raised eyebrows, the fondness he felt for her warming his heart as he continued tossing the pasta. “You know that’s not true, doll,” he told her knowingly. “You’re good at working your family’s foundation. Aren’t you the one that researches and brings in the charities and organizations you guys support?”

“Well, yeah.” Elodie’s eyebrows furrowed almost childishly, a small pout forming on her lips that Calum felt the urge to kiss. He finished with the pasta, hot and ready to eat, as he took the two steps to the other side of the stove where Elodie sat. She looked up at him, and he noticed the slight glaze over her eyes. “But I feel like I could be doing more.”

“You’re already doing more than most,” Calum told her, coming to a stop in front of her and feeling a smirk curve his lips as Elodie automatically unlocked her ankles and spread her legs just enough for him to step into the space they created. Calum braced his hands on the cool marble counter on either side of her thighs, careful of his bruised knuckles, and enjoyed the scent of her floral perfume that briefly overpowered the food he’d cooked. But Calum focused on her, and the hints of doubt seeping into Elodie in regards to her worth, and he was bitterly reminded of what Nathan had said. Calum wasn’t going to let any spiteful thing that bastard said come true in any way, so he quickly derailed that train of thought in Elodie’s mind. “You, my darling, are better than most people I’ve met. That’s a fact.”

Her cheeks pinkened more than they already were, and Elodie felt her heart flutter happily in her chest. Every time Calum complimented her, she felt the air rushing out of her lungs, incredulous that his words made her feel ten times lighter than how awfully Nathan’s words impacted her. Elodie rested her nearly empty wine glass on the counter, hand coming up to cup Calum’s uninjured jaw and feeling his warm skin under her touch as she told him, honestly and genuinely, “You’re too good to me. That’s a fact.”

“Baby,” Calum breathed, raspy and shiver inducing as he brushed his nose against hers. There it was, that sweet little term that had butterflies exploding in her belly. Calum’s gaze was on hers, never afraid to look her in the eye, as he said, “You’re too good for me. That’s a fact.”

Elodie’s heart jumped, eyes dropping to his lips, just inches away from hers. She barely gave a shake of her head. “Nope.” And then closed the gap to capture his lips with hers.

Calum welcomed the kiss wholeheartedly, a throaty hum sounding in his throat as he moved his lips with Elodie’s and briefly gripped her hips before sliding his hands lower to bury them in the back pockets of her jeans. Elodie felt him pull her closer with his new grip, her lips parting when his tongue trailed across her lower lip, deepening the kiss as the taste of wine remained present on both of them. Her heart drummed in her chest as her own hands slid under Calum’s sweatshirt, his lack of shirt underneath allowing her hands to run along his smooth, warm skin, her touch instinctively causing Calum to give her a cheeky squeeze.

There was dinner waiting for them, Elodie knew that, was excited to take a bite of what Calum had made for them, but Elodie was enjoying the feel and taste of Calum’s lips and how warm he felt against her. She couldn’t help the way she dragged her nails down the length of his back, felt an uncharacteristic smirk tilt at her lips against Calum’s when he deepened the kiss with a deep moan that Elodie swore vibrated through her. He sounded as good as he felt.

Calum leaned into her and Elodie’s heart picked up even more, pounding in her ears because this closeness wasn’t enough; she needed more, craved it, wanting nothing in between them as her lips felt electric against his. Everything else began slipping away, her focus only being on the man who was kissing her like it was the last thing he’d get to do, yet still Elodie tried against her better judgement, “The food’ll get cold.”

Her words were mumbled against Calum’s mouth, and he merely grunted as his hands slipped out of her pockets only to grip the backs of her thighs, giving Elodie no warning as he lifted her. She let out a startled gasp, both at the action and the trickle of worry of his injured hand, but Calum’s teeth grazing her lower lip easily distracted her as she locked her ankles at his lower back and wrapped her arms around his neck as Calum said gruffly, “We’ll reheat it.”

Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how, she was too lost in the way her legs were hooked so perfectly around Calum and how he kissed her so fiercely, like he was putting everything into it, but they eventually ended up in a different room. She barely registered the sound of Calum kicking a door shut, eyes closed to completely savor the taste of his lips, kissing off the wine he’d also drank as Calum sank down until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Hands returning to the hem of Calum’s sweatshirt, Elodie gripped it and pulled it upwards, the material offending and distancing, their kiss breaking only for a moment as she tugged it over his head and let out a breathless giggle when Calum’s one hand reached the back of it to take it all the way off and dropped it on the floor, lips returning to hers urgently.

Her heart thundered as they kissed, his stubble scratching her deliciously as she ran her hands from his neck down his chest, feeling the smoothness of his warm skin and the brief chill of the necklace that he seemingly never left the house without. The need to feel close to him was desperate, and Elodie was quickly losing herself into Calum as she used her nimble fingers to undo the buttons of her blouse, Calum’s hands gripping her hips as she shrugged off the cotton material. Calum’s hands slid up, feeling her bare warm skin, the kiss breaking to allow them to catch their breaths as his gaze dropped.

Their chests heaved in time with their quickened hearts, foreheads and noses pressed together and lips electric as Calum’s gaze dropped to Elodie’s newly exposed skin, throat drying at the sight of her in just a bra and jeans. The quiet of the room was interrupted only by their heavy breaths, and as Elodie’s right hand placed itself on the back of his neck, fingers playing with the growing dark hair, her other dancing along the necklace resting against his tattooed collarbones, she felt the warmth of his hands spread through her body.

Calum ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of her back, the tips of his fingers grazing the band of her bra, and his voice was hoarse as he whispered, “El, are you sure?”

She felt the corners of her lips quirk up, felt the electricity thrumming her veins and the obvious desire of how badly Calum wanted to keep going as she remained straddling his lap, and Elodie decided she didn’t want to shy away from this. From Calum. He never gave her a reason to, so she wouldn’t.

Elodie brushed her lips against Calum’s kissed ones, cheeks warming when he tilted his chin forward to kiss her properly. “Only if you are.”

And then she grinded her hips down on him, a gesture neither of them had been expecting, and Calum’s grip on her tightened, uncaring of his bruised knuckles, as he cursed through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

She was killing him, he knew, as she pulled him in for another kiss before breaking away too soon. Calum groaned at the loss, eyes opening as he felt Elodie get off of him. He looked up at her, feeling a haze of adoration as he watched her with her long hair falling over shoulders, a not-so-innocent smile playing at her kiss pinkened lips, eyes on him as her fingers worked on the button and zipper of her jeans. Calum’s throat tightened as she kicked the jeans off, only a pretty lingerie set adorning her body that Calum couldn’t wait to take off.

The pout she sent his way nearly had Calum falling to his knees, her long hair falling around her shoulders as she gestured at him with a finger. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” Elodie said, her voice holding her usual sweet lilt, though Calum wasn’t deaf to the playful glimmer in her dark eyes. She continued to surprise him.

He smirked through a chuckle, pulling his lower lip into his mouth while his gaze remained on his girl, watching her watch him as he took off his sweatpants, the smirk wiping off his face when Elodie settled on her knees in the space between his legs and her gentle touch wrapped around his cock.

Calum’s hooded gaze was watching Elodie, feeling his heart in his throat as she closed her mouth around him, and he was in fucking heaven. His uninjured hand, braced behind him, tightened the bed sheets into a fist while the other easily gathered Elodie’s hair behind her head, his own lips parting at the sight of hers around him. The sensation of her hand working what she couldn’t fit in her warm mouth, nails of the other teasingly dragging along the top of his thigh as she worked him over.

“Shit.” It was all he was capable of breathing out, voice ragged and unsteady, the need to throw his head back and get lost in Elodie’s treatment of him heavy, but Calum didn’t want to take his eyes off of her. His fingers tangled in her soft hair, the blood rushing through his veins and thundering heart accompanying the fire spreading throughout his body.

The sight of Elodie on her knees before him was filthy, gorgeous, unexpected and perfect in every way. Calum could feel just how quickly she was pulling him to the edge, her mouth generous and dizzyingly pleasurable. But as pretty as she was before him, Calum knew he was going to come undone if she continued her ministrations, and he wanted to let go for the first time inside of her—not in her mouth.

“What?” Elodie pouted when Calum pulled her up, the loss of her making him grunt as his hands grasped her hips. She let out a startled sound amidst a giggle as Calum used his grip on her to turn them so she fell back onto the bed, Calum immediately sliding his body on top of hers as his lips pressed against hers urgently. He felt her melt under him, her hands running up the expanse of his back before her fingers found his short hair, keeping him close. Calum’s own hand snuck underneath her to unclasp her bra, ignoring the mild sting of his injured fingers at the action as Elodie lowered her arms briefly to slide off the straps before the offending material was gone.

He felt her breasts press against his chest, soft and supple on his warm skin as he kissed her, losing himself in her. Hastily, though not entirely sure how, Calum reached over to his bedside drawer, blindly pulling it open and rummaging around, lips still moving against Elodie’s, until his fingers finally grasped the foil package he’d been searching for.

There was an overwhelming, breathless desire to have her close to him, closer than she already was; to have her against him in all the right ways because it already felt so natural, so good, to be with her like this. The urgency of his kisses slowed, savoring the taste of her chapstick and the wine dancing on both of their tongues as he committed every bit of her to memory while tearing open the packet, ignoring the twinge in his bruised knuckles at the action. God. The last thing he thought was he’d be doing this with Elodie, finally, with a few bruises painting his skin.

She’d taken her underwear off during the moments of Calum rolling on the condom, hissing slightly at the latex against him, forehead pressed to Elodie’s as their heavy breathing became the soundtrack of their anticipation. His gaze lowered, lining himself up to where she needed him most, and in the midst of their excited breathing and hazy heads, Calum’s eyes met Elodie’s once more.

He looked at her, hovering over her as he took in the pretty flush of her cheeks, the already blissed out look in her eyes and lips pink and kissed. Calum’s heart was erratic within his chest, taking her in as he, in that moment, couldn’t help but think how lucky he was. His disbelief and overwhelm could be heard in his heavy breaths, could see Elodie’s own excitement in the rise and fall of her chest and tension of her neck, the diamond pendant of her necklace settled right between her collarbones. She was breathtaking, and Calum was so fucking lucky.

He couldn’t help himself by pressing his lips to hers once more, a slow and lasting kiss that had Elodie’s grip on the back of his neck tightening, wanting him close. Calum lined himself up to her, about to break the kiss just so he could hear her approval, only to be beaten to the punch as Elodie begged against his lips, “Please.”

His hips thrust forward, the sensation of him burying herself in her leaving both of them gasping for air, Elodie clinging to him and Calum groaning into the crook of her neck, feeling the subtle sting of his bruise, though it barely registered. Elodie wrapped her legs around his hips, and Calum’s hand gripped her thigh, uncaring of the strain on his fingers. Nothing mattered except for Elodie. As if there was anything else on his mind.

He started off slow, pulling out before burying himself to the hilt once more, feeling and hearing Elodie’s breath hitch at the sensation of him filling her up, his free arm next to her to keep himself above her. It was a symphony of his grunts and her breathless moans and skin slapping against skin and utterly losing themselves in one another. His motions were fluid and she received him completely, and Calum couldn’t keep himself from marking up her neck as he felt her nails digging into his back.

He could feel himself quickly reaching his high, but Calum fought himself, refusing to come undone until Elodie did first, no matter how difficult it felt after her mouth had worked him over. Praises fell past his lips, effortless in her worship, everything about her continuing to draw him closer and closer to the edge.

And when they lay in bed after the fact, utterly spent as they tried to catch their breaths with only one of his bedsheets covering them, there was a mutual, silent understanding between them that this was. . . Perfect. That laying in bed, warm bodies bare and pressed together under the sheet, with her head laying on his chest and his arm wrapped around her, was a flawless and blissful image they both had yearned for.

Elodie’s fingers danced with his, gaze on the way she gently turned his hand to look at the mild discoloration of his knuckles. The reminder that he was injured, no matter how insignificant Calum paints it to be, because of someone in her life still ate away at Elodie. But she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a prickle of satisfaction, of adoration, that he wasn’t afraid of standing up for her. He defended her so easily when it took her so long to do so herself, and Elodie liked to think it was her having a wake up call of her own mixed in with a bit of courage from Calum himself that allowed her to be in the position she was in today. She counted herself so lucky that she went to the tattoo parlor with Dominique that day.

“I’m alright, y’know.” Calum’s voice was a low rasp from above her, and Elodie could feel the vibration of him speaking as her head remained against his chest. The way she was caressing his knuckles probably prompted him to speak up. “Doesn’t hurt or anythin’.”

Elodie bit her lower lip, which kind of still tingled from his dizzying kisses. As their fingers gently laced together, she surmised, “You’re just saying that so I won’t feel bad.”

“Hey.” There was a soft disapproving tone in his voice, hand snaking around her to tilt her chin up. Her dark eyes met his after briefly eyeing the bruise on his cheek, and there was a subtle crease between his eyebrows as he said, “I wouldn’t lie to you. And there’s nothing for you to feel bad about. He’s an ass and if I could break his nose again, I would.”

Elodie couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her at Nathan’s expense, the sound quirking up Calum’s lips as well as Elodie looked at him. His lips were as kissed as hers, a pretty flush on his cheeks that she knew was warming her own, and there was a contentment present in her chest that she only ever felt around him. It was enough to push all thoughts of her ex out of her head, irritated with herself for even having a single thought about him. The mere mention of him was a disservice to herself and Calum and the relationship they’d come to have.

So she sat up, pressing the sheet to her chest with one hand, Calum’s arm falling from around her shoulders as he looked at her now seated figure with raised eyebrows. “Come on—” she smiled, grabbing his hand. “I wanna try the pasta.”

Calum chuckled deeply, not one to say no as he followed her off the bed. He put his sweatpants back on as Elodie pulled up her underwear, taking Calum’s hoodie as he offered it to her before following him back into the kitchen. Duke raised his head from where he was on the couch, jumping off as his paws clattered on the floor and followed them as they helped themselves to the dinner Calum had made, needing to heat it up just like he’d said after he poured Duke his food as well.

They ended up on the couch, flickering the TV on with warm plates in their laps with The Office keeping them entertained. And as they watched and ate, Elodie couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the man sitting on the other end of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Her fork absently played with the pasta on her plate, too distracted by Calum; she felt her heart flutter in her chest, tickling, as she admired the way he laughed at the show, enough to push his cheeks up, uncaring of his bruise, and show off the crinkles by his eyes. He sat shirtless, tattoos on full display, bicep looking a bit too inviting as he held the plate with his left hand above his lap.

Just sitting here brought Elodie a sense of tranquility she’d never felt before, a warmth spreading across her skin as she took in a quiet breath. It was thrilling, how happy he made her, so easily and effortlessly. No wonder she was so willing to accept just how quickly she’d fallen in love with him.

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