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#I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO POST THIS HERE I'M SORRY

angelrari · 9 months

Text

emotional bruises · pt. ii

lando norris / carlos sainz x singer!reader faceclaim: emilia mernes

a/n; once again i'm here to remind you english is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. i wrote a small snippet this time and even though i still don't feel fully comfortable with english, but i thought some context was very much needed for this part. also tysm for supporting this story i can't believe i've got so many likes on the first part. here's the second part for you guys to enjoy ❤

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the sunlight peaked through the curtains of lando’s apartment lightening the bedroom you shared. the bedsheets felt cold against your skin, so you tried to find lando with your eyes still closed, stretching your arms as far as you could, but he wasn’t there. where the hell is he? you stood up, still feeling somehow drowsy, and headed to the living room. lando was sitting on the sofa, his face was buried on his hands.

“baby, are you still drunk?”. you asked. he jumped at the sound of your voice and quickly stood up, walking towards you.

“y/n..”. he murmured as he came closer. when you realized that his eyes were swollen and red, the anxiety started to increase.

“hey, what’s wrong?”. you said, reaching out to hold him in your arms. he placed his head on the crook of you neck, feeling his breath against your skin as he started to sob. your hands moved down his back, pulling him closer. “what’s wrong?”.

“i am so sorry, baby… i truly am”. he whispered. “i messed up, y/n…”

you froze, feeling the blood on your veins as it turned cold. those three words brought back feelings you thought you would never feel again. there were only a few reasons why lando would apologize to you and none of them were good. as you stepped back, his hands found its way to yours, holding them tight so you couldn’t move further.

“i was drunk and cindy was there— fuck i am so sorry, y/n. i couldn’t think straight and i know it’s not an excuse, but please—“.

“what did you do, lando?”. you said steadily as you starred at his eyes. he looked down as he whispered the words that would end your two-year long relationship.

“i- i slept with her”.

jennierubyjane

liked by roses_are_rosie, jacquemus and 7,436,435 others

jennierubyjane los angeles w/ my angel ❤

view all 102,324 comments

username it's y/n!!!! everbody move!!!!! 🚨🚨🚨

username thank u for your service jennie it's been a month since we had an update on y/n

username a month???? it felt like a year

username i almost forgot her asian tour is starting soon

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, jennierubyjane and 2,045,347 others

yourusername hi! sorry i've been away. my new song (and mv) emotional bruises will be out tonight as a reward for waiting so, so long. once again thank you for the endless love and support, you guys will always be my favourites ❤

view all 47,934 comments

username it's over for lando i fear

username girl fuck him it was about time

jennierubyjane i'm proud of you bestie! let's go ❤❤❤

lilymhe and the greatest is back

heidiberger_ ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, mclaren and 1,424,785 others

landonorris bring it on

view all 10,297 comments

danielricciardo stick to racing

landonorris i think i did an amazing job idk what you're talking about

username not him posting this the same day emotional bruises is released he's getting on my nerves

username im sure he did it on purpose

taglist: @roseseraj

1K notes · View notes

elmhat · 3 months

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DISC WAR FINALE - TUMBLR SIMULATOR

(The posts here are ordered from least to most recent, since I figured it was a better experience to read them chronologically.)

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Mwahahaha… They'll never find my evil lair where I do evil things. Evilly. That I gave them a compass to

#sorry for vagueing #everything I do is mysterious

12 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

just said my final goodbyes before my inevitable death and my friend couldn't even be assed to put on a shirt??

#cw nudity

56 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

boats are so fucking boring man send me some asks or something

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm about to kill you, can you please take this seriously

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

why'd you make it so fucking far away

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Sorry I didn't realize you were THIS SLOW

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

can you just give us the coords

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Then it wouldn't be dramatic

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

it's not dramatic when you're having a whole ass conversation about it either

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

fuck i shouldn't have posted that. who am i gonna talk to now i'm fucking lonely i have no one

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

no one at all

21 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

EVERYONE SHOULD BE AT THE PORTAL!

If you don't see one of your mutuals here please tag them, it's gonna ruin the moment if someone shows up late

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

@evilwarcriminal

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

DELETE THIS

134 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

#rigging is allowed

16 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

he has an elevator, we're doomed.

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Can you get off your phone. I'm trying to monologue

4 notes

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

New ask game cause I'm sick of waiting, tell me what you think dream is doing rn and I'll tell you how much death I think he deserves

9 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm kinda busy rn but can someone remind me later to post my villain monologue? It's only a first draft but I had to spend all my time setting up my lair. And also blowing up that country a few weeks ago

5 notes

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

I stg punz is being so sus. what's he even waiting for. he better be paying by the hour

11 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

listen I think I'm gonna die dream is about to take my phone the coords are

2 notes

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

Fuck this I'm going through @dreamsno1traitor

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

WAIT I NEED TO GO FIRST STICK TO THE SCRIPT

13 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

HOOOLY SHIT BITCH BOY LOOK AT THIS BITCH BOY BITCH DROP YOUR ITEMS IN THE HOLE ✨BITCH✨

#cw nudity #again #can people please wear clothes around me thanks

2,577 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

/ tw prison

/ tw loss of canon lives

/ tw near death experience

/ tw getting defeated by your archnemesis

I won't be able to post for a while.

78 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

ooooohhh look at me i'm skeppy! in the skeppy cage!! can't believe that fucker made this wtf is this place

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

okay i'm done now bad where did you go @baddestboi-withahalo i need to get out again @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo

💎 goodestboi-withahalo Follow

Thank you for accepting this job opportunity

18 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Guys get out of my inbox. Your hate anons aren't even effective if I don't have a phone in prison

6 notes

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Hey I'm back from the dead

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

REALLY????

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Sorry forgot the /j

8 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

Good job today guys. Yeah. Woo. I'm very happy.

#forgive me if I sound too excited

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

#I need to be vague about this cause he follows me on here #but I think my best friend almost just traded my life for two pieces of plastic #it was a pretty stressful situation though #ig I can't complain too much #am I weird for thinking that's not normal for a friendship? #sorry #I'm probably being unreasonable #they were some really nice pieces of plastic #you can lmk what you think in dms if you want #just please don't send me asks about this situation #I really don't want him to see #neg #discourse

0 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

it's great that we got dream but we need to go after @.bloodforthebloodgod next

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

what's happening what

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

go away i thought i blocked you

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

FUCKKJL YOU TECHNOO

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

technoblade is cringe

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

you literally tagged me

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

yeah cause i needed my followers to know where to send the death threats

28 notes

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

Pandora's Vault is now open to visitors!

Just be aware that the entry process is a lengthy one with several waivers to sign. Plus there are a couple of annoying manual searches along the way. The prisoner is also highly dangerous, he will get inside your head and control your thoughts, transforming you into a servant to his every whim, destroying your very soul from within. I'd recommend not visiting at all actually. You can if you want but I wouldn't. If I were you. That's just me though.

#just me and him

103 notes

(Here's another dsmp dash simulator post I made!)

#long post #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp #dashboard simulator #lore thoughts #dsmp dashboard simulators

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tinycoffeeroom · 1 month

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thank god for bikes | arthurtv

inspired by @mrstelevision 🤍

face claim: steph bohrer ♡

request: here !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍 london

liked by gkbarry, max_balegde, and 98,302 others

y/nsworld about last night ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

view all 3,392 comments

user1 i'm in love with you

gkbarry cant believe i didn't even get photo creds ↳ y/nsworld please forgive my sins oh great gkbarry

user2 y/n!! i think the guys u mentioned on ur twt was george clarke and arthurtv!! arthur posted on twt about george getting hit by a bike on a wall!! ↳ y/nsworld !! let me check his twt <3

liked by y/nsworld, wroetoshaw and 29,492 others

arthurtv first pic taken moments before disaster (at least this one won't leave a scar)

georgeclarkeey don't know what was worse, the bike ptsd or you dribbling down your shirt ↳ arthurtv your mum doesn't mind my dribbling ↳ y/nsworld the dribbling was funnier to watch tbh ↳ georgeclarkeey take that mr television

gkbarry i didn't even notice it was you guys hiding in the corner ↳ georgeclarkeey just wanted some alone time with my boyfriend x ↳ arthurtv stop telling people i'm your boyfriend!!

👤 max_balegde liked by max_balegde, arthurtv and 38,028 others

y/nsworld wine in coffee cups and classic literature in a park, my idea of heaven ꕤ

max_balegde got home off my head and now andrews mad i've ruined dinner plans ↳ y/nsworld andrew baby im so sorry :( ↳ andrew_spanndy could never blame you xx ↳ max_balegde god just date her already wooooow

gkbarry regret introducing the two of you, my poor ears will never recover from this ↳ y/nsworld thats your fault for putting two professional yappers together xx

arthurtv pretty sure that's bride you're reading... wouldn't call werewolf smut classic literature ↳ y/nsworld and how do YOU know what's in the book? 🤨

👤 arthur_tv, max_balegde liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 30,395 others

georgeclarkeey totally normal photo to promote the newest useless hotline ep x

max_balegde rip my purple crocs... can't believe y/n stole them right off my feet... ↳ user2 !!! y/n at the arthurtv podcast recording?? my y/ntv senses are tingling ↳ user3 i'm pretty sure she was there bc her and max are friends... ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ user2 they've never randomly had their friends at recordings, dw you'll join the y/ntv cult soon

📍 ibiza

👤 georgeclarkeey, chrismd, arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, y/nsworld and 45,028 others

arthurtv thank you spotify for inviting us out! (photo cred: y/nsworld)

user2 i am going to scream from the rooftops, y/ntv'ers unite!!

y/nsworld should receive compensation for having to look at george's bare grippers the entire weekend ↳ arthurtv will bring round some wine this weekend ↳ y/nsworld good boy ↳ user2 ... y'all are fucking with me atp

📍 ibiza

liked by arthurtv, gkbarry and 83,028 others

y/nsworld beach bum 𓇼

gkbarry happiness looks so good on you ↳ y/nsworld i love the bones of you

user2 !! WHO TOOK THE PHOTO I FEEL INSANE ↳ y/nsworld my friend! :)

📍 ibiza

liked by y/nsworld, georgeclarkeey and 49,204 others

arthurtv decided to stay in the sunshine a few more days :)

user3 user2 i fear you may be onto something ↳ user2 i'm gonna eat glass. like i am actually putting shards in my mouth rn ↳ y/nsworld omg pls don't

y/nsworld looking good mr television ↳ arthurtv why thank you miss world

liked by arthurtv, max_balegde and 83,028 others

y/nsworld use code ynsworld for 15% off ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

max_balegde leaving my bf for you rn. ↳ andrew_spanndy not if i leave you first ↳ y/nsworld i can date both of you at the same time xx

arthurtv djsidjief djg ↳ y/nsworld you ok mr television?

y/nsworld didn't even think about what i was wearing when i went to go see mr hill sing about cold coffee, sorry guys you got the wrong arthur xx

POST DELETED

👤 y/nsworld liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 93,294 others

arthurtv someone forgot to change over to their finsta so i guess it's hard launch time... somehow got the most gorgeous girl on earth to agree to date me, must be my fantastic sense of humour

y/nsworld lbr most of them already knew, we weren't exactly subtle ↳ arthurtv speak for yourself xx

theburntchip it's the big ol' hog you got in them trousers ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ arthurtv ah yes forgot about that

max_balegde take care of her or me and andrew are snatching her real quick ↳ y/nsworld ... i may have to do some rethinking

user2 i can't believe i was right... VINDICATION ♥️ arthurtv, y/nsworld

👤 arthur_tv liked by arthurtv, gkbarry and 104,845 others

y/nsworld told him i forgot to change to finsta but really i just wanted to show that i bagged a hottie ✮⋆˙

georgeclarkeey still can't believe you snatched him from right under my nose ↳ y/nsworld we're still in the honeymoon phase so i may give him back x ↳ arthurtv what the fuck

gkbarry crying into a pint of ice cream thanks xx ↳ y/nsworld you know you're the love of my life xx

y/nsworld also user2 sorry for gaslighting you xx ↳ user2 i have never been so happy to be gaslighted could do a happy lil cry ↳ y/nsworld our fave y/ntv'er we love you ♡

#arthur tv imagine #arthur tv x reader #arthurtv imagine #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv fluff #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick x reader #arthur frederick fics

233 notes · View notes

spiceofvy · 5 months

Note

Hi! Can I please request relationship headcanons for BTS members with a non celebrity, female reader? Thank you ❤️

BTS - Dating a non celebrity

a/n: omg this is my first time writing about the vocal line, so i'm kinda nervous right now, but also i really like how this turned out, so i hope you enjoy it too! also i'm super sorry but i totally forgot that you asked for a fem!reader. the headcanons honestly wouldn't have been any different except for me using gendered language anyway. so i hope you still like it!

cws: sfw, gender neutral reader, fluff, nothing to note here tbh, except for one (1) slightly sexual line (hoseok ofc)

Seokjin: No matter how many prizes he wins, how much the newspapers praise him, at the end of the day the only compliments that matter to him are those coming from you. He wants to hear how much you love his voice, how good he looked, how amazed you were by his performance. He's only satisfied with his work when you declare how utterly and irrevocably in love you are with him. But don't worry, he will return all this love whenever he can, calling you the cutest nicknames, cooking for you whenever you want and believe me when I tell you that this man will show you off to everyone. He wants everyone to know how amazing you are and that you are his to love.

Hoseok: Hoseok sees his main goal in being your boyfriend and an idol in being able to spoil you rotten. Shirts from his favorite designers, tailored jeans to make sure that you legs always look perfect, the most expensive shoes you've ever worn. What's the point in being rich if he doesn't spend the money on you? And you really can't get him to stop, even if you make more money than him. He will still feel the need to spoil you. And of course drown you in compliments. Tracing his hands over your body as you try on some tight clothes, making sure they highlight all his favorite parts of you. Just to rip those clothes off of you at home later.

Yoongi: I know it's a cliche, but he writes love songs about you. And sad songs when he misses you on tour. And happy songs when he sees you sleep on the couch on the studio, feeling completely at peace with him. He just writes a lot of songs about you. You are his inspiration and his muse. Many of those songs never get released, they stay between the two of you, shared during emotional moments, followed by soft talking and sweet kisses. You are also Holly's co-parent. And in almost every photo Yoongi has in his Holly-Journal. He doesn't mind keeping you away from the public, unless it's about the basketball games he gets invited to, especially if you also love the game. He is pretty sad about not being able to also share this passion of his with you.

Namjoon: He is obsessed with your normal day to day life. Which he honestly misses a lot. Please tell him about your run to the grocery store, how overrun the subway was, the cute dog you saw today. He loves to hear about it all and will never get tired of hearing you talk about your day. He sometimes just wants to take you on walks through the city, but due to his popularity it's really hard. So he just schedules those walks to the night, when it's raining and the streets are empty. He also low key posts you on his insta. He is the king of soft launching. There are your shoes in the background, two bowls of food on the table, a sweater he's never seen wearing before on the couch, a shadow in the mirror in the background. It's his favorite little game, how well he can hide you in open sight.

Jimin: You are his number one tripod for his content. He 100 percent trusts you vision when it comes to filming his dance videos or taking his photos. Even if you have no former experience in those areas. He also takes you everywhere! This man is absolutely shameless in taking you to work with him. He doesn't even care if his explanations, why he needs you at set with him all the time are not making sense. He introduced you at one photoshoot first as his personal assistant in addition to his actual assistant, later as his translator the shooting was in korea so no need for a translator and his emotional support human okay this was probably a joke on his side. No one ever dares to object anyways. Including those times when he uses his times with highly ranked stylists to get you set up with some pretty new clothes instead of preparing for his upcoming comeback.

Taehyung: He is in desperate need for a calm spot of comfort in his life and you are that to him. Far away from all the hectic that comes with being an Idol you are his home and the place where he can 100 percent be himself. After a long day he loves nothing more than to fall onto the couch next to you and hug you tightly until he falls asleep. As you talk about your day, petting his soft hair. When he can't come home to you, he calls you in the evening when he is in bed at some hotel on the other side of the world. Just needing to hear your voice to finally calm his mind. Additionally Yeontan loves you almost as much as he loves Tae so you are the perfect dog sitter, and yes this includes managing the scheduled facetimes between the two of them when Tae is on tour.

Jungkook: Please note that he will kick you out of whatever room he wants to stream in, when he streams. Your shared apartment? No it's his personal filming studio and you live in it. I hope you are good at turning off cameras without being visible on them, because that is your job whenever he falls asleep on the camera. But all jokes aside he is always so excited to come to you after streams, asking if you watched it. You didn't need to, because you could hear him in the next room over, but just say yes, because he loooves you validation. "Did you like that photoshoot I did? What do you think about my dancing in that tiktok? Did I sound good during that performances?" It's almost as bad as Jin but Jungkook pairs it with his huge pretty puppy eyes, tearing into your soul. Also, he will tease you with his song lyrics, especially the spicy ones. Just to get really flustered by your answer afterwards.

228 notes · View notes

chrisredfield73 · 5 months

Note

I have a tf2 request! Could I get some head cannons of an undercover mission trope? Like the mercs seeing the reader dressed up for a mission?

- feel free to ignore, but if you do write it, Ty!!

A/N: I LOVE THIS TROPE SM BRO. I'm down to write just about anything so don't worry! (Usually I do the bullet-point posts faster cause they're quicker to post! If you want a full story from any of these, lmk!)

For Spy's part:

Mon cher/mon cheríe means my darling or my treasure!

Edit: IM SO SORRY I FORGOT ENGINEER LAST NIGHT,, I WAS REALLY TIRED.

------------------------------------------------------

Scout:

He's in his room when you walk in, his jaw drops to the floor as soon as he sees you and his eyes widen.

"Damn, toots/pal.."

He didn't expect you to be dressed up this nice, and to look so good...

After taking a moment to gawk at you, he gets that cocky smirk on his face.

"You look hot."

He's not the best at flirting, clearly, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try..

Soldier:

He was busy yelling at the other mercs before turning to look at you.

His eyes widen under his helmet and he tugs at his jacket collar.

"Wow.. Uh.."

He's speechless and getting flustered in front of all the other mercenaries..

"You look.. Good."

He's trying so hard not to show how flustered he is in front of the others, to no avail.

They're all over there snickering and making fun of Soldier.

Pyro:

He's sitting outside, thinking about 'Pyroland', when he hears footsteps behind him.

As soon as he sees you, he let's out a happy and muffled coo.

"Mmmf!"

He absolutely adores you in your nice dress attire, you look amazing!

He gets up and walks over to you, handing you a flower.

"Mmf mff mm mmf!"

He hopes you'll wear that outfit more often, he thinks it suits you really well!

No pun intended.

Demoman:

He's off in one of the storage rooms, drinking his scrumpy, when he sees you walk in.

He let's out a low whistle as he eyes you up and down.

"Aye, lookin' good there, lass/lad."

He's got a blush on his face, due to the alcohol or your good looks.. We'll never know.

He takes another swig of his drink, a slight smirk on his face.

"Ya want a drink?"

He offers you the bottle, still taking in the sight of your outfit and your form..

Heavy:

He's sitting in the armory, examining Sasha to make sure no one else has messed with his beloved gun and he hears you walk in.

He smiles at you, a light pink flush forming on his face.

"Heavy think.. You look beautiful/handsome."

He likes how well dressed you are, thinking that you should dress this way more often.

"You will do good, Heavy can tell."

He's not as flirty as the others, yet his stomach does flips as he looks at you..

Engineer:

He's sitting outside, by his truck, playing the guitar when you approach him.

He looks over at you and gives you a smile.

"Well, look at you.."

He thinks you look amazing, you should wear that outfit more.

He stops playing the guitar and offers a cheeky grin.

"Wanna sit here with me, hon?"

He's not as flirty as the others, but he absolutely adores you dressed up all nice like this.

Medic:

He's sitting in the medbay, in the middle of doing some crazy experiment that definitely has some life altering effects, when he notices you walk in.

He gawks at you for a moment before clearing his throat and smiling.

"You look good. Ja, very good."

He's a little awkward and he's definitely getting flustered.

He can't believe his eyes, you look amazing dressed like this.

"Did you.. need something?"

He tries to change the topic before he gets too flustered, but it's obvious to you that he's blushing heavily..

Sniper:

He's sitting in his van, cleaning his kukri, when you walk in.

He's one of the more stoic mercs, but you definitely have his jaw dropping.

"Damn, roo.. Y'look stunning."

He blushes, looking away to try and hide his flustered face.

He knew you'd look good but seeing you dressed like this in person makes him turn red.

"You wanna sit here for a bit?"

You caught his eye, as if you already didn't, and now he wants you to stick around more than ever...

Spy:

He's in his room, smoking a cigarette and listening to jazz, when you walk in.

He looks over at you and his mouth goes agape.

"You look.. stunning, mon cher/ma cheríe."

He's enamored, stunned by how well dressed you are and how good you look dressed like this.

He's silent for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"You have a perfect outfit for going undercover."

It's awkward, to say the least. He didn't expect this at all but he definitely likes what he's seeing..

377 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

bfd!hotch comes to drop off some of your stuff that you'd been asking your bf to but he's been "too busy" to and when he sees you, lounging in the shortest shorts and your bf's shirt (which is actually an old t-shirt of hotch's), he looses his mind

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni.

i changed this to ex!bf's dad, and this is not with jack because i could not make him anything other than the sweetest boy in the world </33 this is just an unnamed unspecified character that reader used to be dating!!

Aaron can't believe he's treating you better than his son did. He thought he'd raised the boy right, but apparently his son had run away from him. After finding someone new and cutting all contact with you instead of telling you outright, Aaron's son had then refused to return any of your things, and his breaking point was when he caught the boy's new girlfriend using your leftover facial soap in the bathroom.

So here he is now, a box of your things in his arms as he braces it against the door to ring the buzzer.

When you open it your eyes meet his chest, then trace up to his face like you were expecting someone shorter at the door. Maybe his son. He feels a little guilty that he isn't the boy.

"Oh! Mr. Hotchner," You smile, cocking your head to the side, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Uh, my son still had some of your things," Aaron manages to murmur, but his brain is slowly emptying, reading over the words on the faded t-shirt over your chest: GWU.

Why are you wearing his shirt?

"Oh! Um, thank you," You laugh awkwardly, reaching for the box. Aaron feels guilty by association, and can't imagine how embarrassing it must be for your ex-boyfriend's dad to dump a box of stuff on you.

"Is.. that all?" You raise a brow, watching as Aaron stands aimlessly in your doorway. He blinks, then you notice his eyes are on your chest, and you make the connection with your shirt.

"Oh! Right, my- here," You set the box down, reaching for the hem of the shirt you're wearing and pulling it over your head, "Sorry, I forgot I was wearing his shirt."

Aaron's heart pounds in the split second that you strip the shirt off, and it doesn't slow down when he sees the sports bra beneath. It's perfectly modest, something he'd see a woman jogging in on a hot day, but it's more than he's ever seen of you. And the fact that it had been his shirt concealing the vision he's faced with now? He's starting to feel a little bit like a horny teenager, chubbing up at the sight of boobs.

"Thank you," Aaron reaches for the shirt, "It's- I think this is actually my shirt, he must have grabbed it one day."

"Oh!" Your brows raise and you pick the box up again, "Well, thank you for letting me borrow it. Even if you didn't know I was," You crack a sneaky smile at him, and Aaron can't help but let a kind one slip over his own face.

"It was good seeing you," He hums, and he means it, because the girl traipsing around his house right now is grating on his nerves.

"It was good seeing you too, Mr. Hotchner," You agree after a moment of tense silence, "I- I wish things would have ended differently."

"Me too," Aaron nods, fist tightening around his shirt, "If you ever need anything, Y/N.. You're always welcome to call me. My son might have the moral backbone of a paper straw but I'm not going to turn against you because he did."

You're barely able to stifle a laugh at Aaron's open insult, gazing appreciatively at him, "Thank you. Really, I- I appreciate that. A lot."

Aaron nods, shirt in hand, "Have a good day, Y/N."

The 'You too!' that you offer him as he steps down your walkway rings in his ears well after he gets into his car and drives away. He stalks through his house on autopilot, ignoring both his son and the new girl he's with when they try to half-ass a greeting towards him. He beelines for his room, shutting the door behind him. His back meets the wood of the door as he leans against it, and he finally takes a good look at the shirt in his hands. There's a smear of what he thinks is your makeup on the neckline, and he feels like a depraved teen as he cautiously raises it to his nose. It's like you've drowned it in your scent, a sweet mix of perfume and laundry detergent that he's caught on spare pillows or the couch cushions after you leave.

He locks the door behind him and looks at the shirt like it'll tell him where to put it. When it doesn't, he tosses it onto his bed, hoping that some of the perfume will stick to his pillow.

He heads into the bathroom in a daze, head spinning and fingers heavier than they need to be while flicking the light switch: He needs a shower.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenarip #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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mrs-b-heelshire · 7 months

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Brahms Heelshire X reader p.4

❤︎ This post is 18+ minors do not interact please ^.^

❤︎ This fic is F/M (sorry I forgot to add this before)

❤︎ part four

❤︎ part three here

You stand there looking at Brahms, he's visible shaking and clinging onto his mask, you walk over to him and kneel down next to him "Brahms...are you okay" he shakes his head, you place your hand on his shoulder "Brahms you don't have to take it off" he slowly turns and looks at you, you see his eyes, bloodshot, he was crying "oh Brahms I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said anything" you pull him into a hug, he slowly wraps his arms around you, like he can't believe you are actually hugging him, you squeeze him softly "I won't bring it up again, I promise" you feel him nod slowly, acknowledging your words "come on lets go eat" you both stand up and you take his hand and lead him to the kitchen "anything you want?" he nods "sandwich" you laugh softly "okay what would you like in it" he shrugs...is he sulking? "okay Brahms I can't make something when you don't tell me what you want" he shrugs again, you sigh and walk over to him, you lift his face by his chin so he is looking at you "Brahms stop sulking and tell me what you want" his eyes grow wide and he grabs you waist "kiss" you look down at him "Brahms you can't just demand something" he whines "kiss" you sigh, defeated "if I kiss you will you tell me what you want in your sandwich" he nods and sits up, he cups your face softly and you kiss him, he leans into it and he moans softly, the sound of him moaning lights a fire inside you, you quickly pull away "uh...right now...uhm...what was I doing" you look at Brahms, you can tell he's smiling, he likes that he has made you flustered "sandwich" you nod "and what do you want in it" he shrugs "surprise me" you cross your arms and look at him "you did that on purpose"

You pass him the plate with his sandwich on and he looks at you "what?" he shuffles in his seat slightly "oh...right I'm sorry, I'll be in the living room if you need me" you walk to the living room and sit down, you look back to the kitchen door, curiosity fills your mind, what does he look like, are the burns that bad he feels like the mask is truly better than his own face, the last thought makes you want to...you don't even know? how can you convince someone that has been isolated and forgotten that they are worthy of acceptance? your eyes haven't left the door so when it starts to open and you see him walking out adjusting his mask you heart jumps, his eyes meet yours and he looks confused yet happy to see you are still here, he shuffles over and sits down next to you, you turn to face him, a strange feeling coming over you, you like that you know about him, you like that he's there now, you are so deep in thought you don't even realise you have cupped his face with one of your hands, you don't notice he is leaning into your touch, you come back to reality and shuffle closer to him, you want to actually just look at him, without the nerves, without the reservations, you just want to see him, your eyes scan his mask, it has a few impurities but its porcelain so that's no surprise, you move a few strands of hair away from his mask, his hair is soft, bouncy and curly, you coil a curl around your finger, smiling as it bounces back, you look at his eyes, he's visibly confused and a little worried but his eyes are still so soft and kind "Brahms are you okay with me doing this?" his head tilts to the side and you smile "are you okay with me touching you?" he looks at you for a few seconds before grabbing your other hand and putting it on his chest, you laugh softly "I'll take that as a yes" you trace the hem of his shirt slowly then you start to move your hand down his chest, you notice his breathing has quickened, the lower your hand goes the more he relaxes, you stop your hand just above his belt line and he whimpers, you look up at him, his breathing is quick, his eyes are shut and his head is leaning on the back of the sofa "Brahms?" he looks at you, eyes full of lust, before you can react he grabs you and places you down on his lap.

#the boy 2016 #the boy #the boy movie #brahms #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #baby boy brahms #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire smut #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire x you #horror movies #horror films #slashers #slashers fic #fanfic #fanfiction #slasher community #slasher fucker

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ssaaaronmontgomery · 1 year

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Inconveniences

Warnings: Smut, periods, reader is a bit self conscious about periods and period sex, please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 1K

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

A/n: I was in the mood for period smut and accidentally made it fluffier than I intended to but that’s okay. There may be some errors because I have not read over it yet but I will when I have more time.

Tags: @greg-montgomery

This post is nsfw minors DNI*

"Wait Aaron. No we have to stop." Aaron was on top of you and starting to pull your shirt off before you stopped him. "Is everything okay?" He looks at you slightly concerned. He's searching your face for something. "Everything's fine I just- I can't-" you let out a sigh. "We just can't have sex right now is all." He sits back. "Honey if you don't want to have sex it's fine. We don't need to do anything." "It's not that I don't want to, because believe me I want to, I'm just I'm I just-" you trail off and look away. Clearly embarrassed about something.

He puts the pieces together now. "You want to but you're on your period aren't you?" His voice is soft and he tilts his head to the side a little. You give him a shy nod. "I'm sorry Aaron. I didn't mean to mislead you or anything. I just forgot about it until you went to take my shirt off and I guess I just panicked a little." You stare at your hands as you fiddle with your fingers. "You don't need to apologise. We can just cuddle and watch TV if you want." He's being so kind and understanding which you're not used to. This happened once before with someone else and they were completely disgusted and annoyed because they thought they were going to have a good time.

He moves to lay down beside you and face you. He can tell you're embarrassed. But he can also see that there's something else going on in your head. "There's something else bothering you isn't there?" He brings his hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your face before smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You sigh again and look over at him. "You're just being so nice about it and I feel bad because I gave you the impression that you would get to have some fun tonight. And now you're probably disgusted with me." You continued to fiddle with your fingers. It's his turn to sigh now. "Sweetheart why would I be disgusted by you because you're on your period? It's completely natural. And I see much more blood in my job on a regular basis. Your cycle doesn't bother me. You do know that I keep hygiene products here for you in my bathroom right?"

This surprises you because no you didn't know about that. He never mentioned it before. You furrow your brows at him. "You do? Since when?" "Since you started spending the night from time to time about four months ago. I figured you might need some at some point." He's so considerate you're practically looking at him with heart eyes because he's so sweet. "I promise it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all."

That makes you think. You look down and see he's still about half hard in his sweats. "It's not a turn off for you?" "Not in the slightest. Is it for you?" "Well no. But I thought you wouldn't want to do anything once you knew. Someone else said they thought it was gross and didn't want to after I told them." You looked back down still a bit embarrassed about that encounter even if it was years ago. "If you're open to it I'd love to make you feel good Sweetheart." He moves his hand to rub up and down your side. "But I don't want get any on you." You move your gaze back to his.

He looks away momentarily as he thinks. "I think we can work around that. I wouldn't mind it but if you're not comfortable with that we can try something different." "Like what?" He smiles and moves back on top of you. "Tell me if you want to stop at any point okay?" You nod. He kisses you deeply and you move your hands to tangle in his hair. He moves his to gently grope your breasts. He figures they might be extra sensitive so he's careful with his movements on them. "Can I take this off?" He questions as he grabs the hem of your shirt. You nod again and he pulls it over your head.

He starts kissing your neck. Slowly moving down to your chest and he wraps his lips around one of your nipples making you suck in a breath. He's trying to get you worked up again. And he's doing it very well. He does the same to your other nipple and once he thinks you've had enough he moves back up to kiss your lips again.

He starts rocking his hips into yours. His clothed cock pressing right against your clothed pussy. You gasp at the sudden movement and bring your legs around his torso. He starts grinding harder against you. You're moaning into his mouth and he's swallowing each one. You try your best to move your hips with his and he buries his face in your neck to nip and suck there as he groans.

"Is this okay baby?" He mumbles against your skin. "Yes. Yes Aaron it's good. It feels good. Can you go faster please?" He obliges and you're moaning louder than before. Your back arching off the mattress. "Aaron please. Please please." Moving against you even harder and faster you quickly come undone shortly followed by Aaron's hips stuttering as he groans loudly into your ear.

Aaron kisses you again. It's slow and messy. Tongues moving together and saliva mixing. You both pull away panting and he presses his forehead to yours as the two of you come down and catch your breath.

"Was that a good compromise?" He asks still a bit breathless. "Yes it was a very good one." He gives a small chuckle and kisses your forehead. "Please don't be embarrassed about anything Honey. Especially not this. Not with me. Let's get cleaned up and then we can snuggle yeah?" He's running the back of a finger over your cheek again. It's a comforting touch and he knows you love it because you always lean into it. "Yeah." You smile at him and he helps you to the bathroom.

Once you're both back in bed and snuggled up he turns the lights off and the TV on. Soon enough you've both drifted off in peaceful sleep completely wrapped up in each other.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfiction #cw periods #cw period sex #aaron hotchner fluff

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deadlything · 26 days

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this was inspired by a post about the similarities between gwyn and az made by @olenvasynyt. i want to yap a little bit or a lot about how the difference in their personalities lends itself beautifully to a relationship between the two of them, because seeing how they play off each other in the bonus chapter really did close any doors that i'd been keeping open in the hopes that e/riel would eventually win me over.

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight. She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. "I'm sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn't think anyone would mind if I came up here, and —" "It's fine. I came to retrieve something I forgot." The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her.

azriel starts the conversation by being short with her. he's lying, "smooth and cool," being curt and closed off with her. (even while his shadows are trying to get a closer look at her.) gwyn isn't bothered by it, though — she smiles at his shadows, then is truthful and open with him even though he isn't being truthful and open with her.

But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. "I was trying to cut the ribbon." She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver.

they have a short exchange after this and then silence falls between them. their gazes meet, and then azriel remembers gwyn as he first met her in sangravah, and how different she is now. (chronologically the next chapter after this is the chapter where gwyn becomes the first to cut the ribbon and become a valkyrie, and cassian notices that azriel is looking at gwyn with "admiration and quiet encourgement" on his face — we don't get azriel's exact thoughts in that moment, but i really and truly believe he deeply respects her and how far she's come.)

here, gwyn immediately picks up on the fact that azriel is thinking about sangravah; she ducks her head and dismisses him, giving him an out to exit the conversation. but he doesn't. instead he immediately changes tone.

He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?" Gwyn's teal eyes flashed with alarm. "No! I mean, I don't mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone." Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. "Is that why you came up here?" Sort of. "I forgot something," he reminded her. "At two in the morning?" Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."

next gwyn asks him about the solstice party, and instead of going back to being curt and aloof like he was before, we see az fumble a little and try to shift the subject back onto her. we also see the shadow dancing that was heard around the world here — not because gwyn is an evil lightsinger, but because (in my opinion) this is it, this is the music between souls that is so often used to describe the mating bond. the cold and aloof azriel who's been bottling everything up is actively looking for ways to keep this conversation going rather than shutting it down and just going to bed.

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. "Fine," he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn't a socially respectable answer. "It was nice." Not much better. So he asked, "Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?"

gwyn answers. but they're very much alike. she's just as stubborn as he is — but i think she can tell that she's poking into something that he doesn't want to talk about. instead of letting him flip the conversation entirely around and make it about her again, though, she asks him a different question. just like gwyn was one of the people who was patient enough to "keep holding out her hand" until nesta opened up to her, she's willing to flip this conversation back and forth until azriel opens up a little bit. and she somehow guesses something about him that no one else seems to know, breaking right through his guard.

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. "Do you sing?" He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but... "Why do you ask?" "They call you a shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?" "I am a shadowsinger — it's not a title that someone just made up." She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" Azriel couldn't help his chuckle. "Yes."

he changes the subject again after this, telling gwyn to try cutting the ribbon again because he doesn't want her to ask him anything else about his singing. and she does, and i love that she does, because it's one of the differences between them that i think lends itself really well to a relationship between the two of them. he's opened up a little, but he doesn't want to talk about his singing; and she's willing to be the more vulnerable one and let him pick apart the mistakes she makes while trying to cut the ribbon, despite how competitive we know she can be. and it's absolutely the right call to make, because it settles the restless feelings he's been grappling with.

"You're turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground," Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. "Watch." He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. "You see how you open up right here?" He corrected his position. "Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm." Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. "I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days." Azriel laughed. "I'll give you that." Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

and then we have everything that comes after, which i think gets overshadowed quite a bit because the chapter comes at the end of the book, rather than where it actually takes place in the timeline of the story. despite not having the time to speak with mor about vallahan or visit lucien to discuss the autumn court soldiers, azriel does find the time to give gwyn private dagger lessons after this. she becomes the first to cut the ribbon and become a valkyrie; something that cassian says he will remember for centuries, something he says he'll tell his grandchildren about, something that "causes the earth to shift and greater forces to peer into the training ring" — and azriel is looking at gwyn with admiration on his face. (cassian believes that azriel felt the shift, too, but since we're not in azriel's head after this, we can't be sure.) after not seeing even a hint of azriel's love of music in the entirety of the series up until this point, we see him in hofas humming and bobbing his head along to the music bryce plays, and actively asking her to play more. just from this one conversation, we see positive character growth from the both of them. character growth that does ripple out into the rest of the books, despite some people trying to say that this bonus chapter doesn't matter and/or that gwyn isn't important to azriel.

in summary: they're so much alike, but even their differences fit together like puzzle pieces and complement each other. (because they're mates.)

#pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #gwynriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf

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warmaidensrevenge · 2 months

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It's not a never.

Pairings: Eddie x fem!best friend Plus size reader

A/N: Happy Sunday loves. Here I present the final part in this series. It's a bit steamy if you ask me. So ready your naughty bits. As always thanks for reading. Please feel free to share and comment your thoughts. It really gives me a boost of dopamine that I crave. So anything is awesome. Kay love ya. Byyyyyeeee.

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A huge thank you and credit to the original posters and artists.

Word count: 3,824

Warnings: 18+ No minors please. Angst, language, sexual implications, sexual situations, p&v, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex and mentions of alcohol use. Not proof read

Part 4: Right now

Summary: Time goes by. But feelings still remain.

The farewell was in fact unbearable. It hurt Eddie like hell. But what hurt the most was a year after. College life became hectic for you. Which caused letters and phone calls to lessen.

Then the guys got a big break. It was a small record label with very little rapport. But it was one he had a good feeling about. They made a deal for one full album and a few shows to promote it.

It was a very busy year that turned into two. Then three.

Before any of them knew it, they were playing sold out shows.

Things were working out. His dreams were coming true. But he never forgot about that girl with the sweet little smile. Though it has been some time since he saw it. He was fortunate enough to see it again one summer night in that third year.

The band was performing at one of their favorite places one hot night. They loved it because it was on a rooftop. Where they could see most of the city.

Tonight though, Eddie could only focus on the pretty girl with the small smile he almost forgot if it weren't for the prom picture he kept in his wallet.

The second the set was over, he jumped off the stage and ran to you. Obviously dodging the groupies and fans asking for autographs.

You yelped when he embraced you. Surprised when he picked you up a little.

“ Oh shit! I can't believe this!” He said when he planted you back down.

You giggled. “Hi Eddie.”

He leaned back a little and grinned like crazy. “ When did-” He was cut off by the rest of his buddies.

He took a few steps back to let everyone have their turn with you. To be honest he needed the minute to get over the shock of seeing you.

One thing led to another and you guys went out for drinks then ended up back at their apartment.

The whole night you guys were hanging off each other. Loving glances were shared and every word you said sounded like a love spell to him. And that didn't end when it was just you two.

Everyone else went to bed and he wasn't tired at all. So why end the night? Who knows when he was gonna see you again.

“ Ehem. So Eddie?” You said, putting your half empty glass on the coffee table. “ How many times do I have to squeeze your thigh to get you to kiss me?”

He laughed nervously.

You gave him a sexy sly grin. “ Common I've been flirting with you all night.”

He cleared his throat and smirked while you moved closer to him. It was true. You were flirting. He was too. And he shouldn't have.

You reached up to move his bangs to the side. After you rested your hand much closer to his genitals.

He quickly put a hand on yours. Just in case you decided to touch him further. “ Ummm…” he mumbled and met your beautiful eyes.

If things were different, he wouldn't question a damn thing and take you right here and now. Maybe even on the floor and the kitchen counter. Definitely fuck you in the shower and again on his bed. But he couldn't.

He exhaled. “ I'm kinda seeing someone.”

You practically jumped back. Pulling your hand away in the process. He could see how red you were getting from embarrassment.

“ Crap! Ed- I'm…uhhhh I'm sorry. I should go.”

You stood up and without thinking he grabbed your arm and stood up too.

“ No! I mean. Please don't go.”

You looked at him and shook your head. “ No I should. I've embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime.”

You tried to go but he gently pulled you back and cupped the sides of your face.

“ Common kid. Don't be embarrassed. I was flirting too.” He hung his head a little. “ I shouldn't have but…it's you.”

He felt your warm soft hands on his. Making him meet your eyes.

“ Eddie I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come and -”

“ No. You did nothing wrong. It was me. I should've said I was seeing someone sooner…but seriously, don't go. I-I've missed you…So fuckin much.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “ Okay. But you have to sit on the other side of the couch.”

He dropped his hands and held onto yours. “ Yeah, or I'm gonna have to make a phone call and become single.”

Your eyes widened. “ I'm flattered, but probably don't do that.”

You both grinned at one another before returning to the couch. Talking until the sun came up.

For Eddie it was heartbreaking saying goodbye to you that next morning. You were still that funny, sweet, affectionate girl from highschool. You were still the person he could talk to for hours without a care in the world. And he remembered the love that he still had for you.

What he learned last night was that you were so busy with school that you didn't have time to date. He also found out that college was much harder than you thought it was gonna be. So hard that you changed your major twice.

Eventually, you found something you really saw yourself doing. Career wise that is. And he was happy for you. Just like how you were happy for him and the guys.

Still, there was still something between you two. Something he wished he could explore. Something that just flowed with you. It was as if you guys picked up from where you left off.

It irked him. It bothered him so much that he actually opened up to his girlfriend about it.

At first she was quiet, then she got pissed. Eventually, she calmed down and broke up with him. And to be honest it didn't really affect him that much. Sure he liked her. She was fun to be around. But after talking to you, he realized he never had a decent conversation with her. It was just partying and sex mostly.

It wasn't her fault though. It was him. He never cared to open up to anyone besides his friends. Maybe it was because he thought no one would understand or get him. Get his quirks or quips. They probably wouldn't get his music tastes or like his nerdy side. Or maybe he didn't want anyone to. Perhaps it was because he still had hope for you. Hope that was instilled in him over the best pancakes in the world.

Either way it would be another 4 years until he would see you again.

…

Jeff was getting married. To Connie, in Hawkins. Everyone was invited and Eddie, Gareth and Grant were his groomsmen. They were all his best men cuz he couldn't choose one.

Which was such a grueling task. Helping with the wedding and planning a bachelor party took up a lot of time.

But besides all that, Eddie was looking forward to seeing one guest. One very important guest. The pretty girl he's been corresponding to for the past four years.

He got in touch after you left New York. And kept up contact. He didn't want to disconnect again. Lose you again.

Though nothing was ever said about getting together, he anticipated that after the wedding he was gonna leave with you. Finally getting to that right now you had mentioned seven years ago.

He was near the entrance of the church, saying his hellos with the rest of the wedding party when he saw you.

Everything around him seemed to slow down as you exited the car and fixed your royal blue dress. You looked around and smiled at the people you knew. Then you went to help your mom out of the car.

He absolutely could not look away. You were a knockout. Absolutely gorgeous.

What were the chances he could sneak you out of the party and make love somewhere? Maybe he could convince you to leave early.

He suddenly felt a jab in the ribs.

“ Ouch! What the fu-” he groaned as he looked at Gareth who was nodding towards Jeff's grandma. “ Oh right!” He uttered, holding out his elbow for her. “ Hello there young lady, I am to escort you to your VIP spot.”

She hit him with an ohh you and took his arm. He looked back to see if he could catch your eye. But it wasn't until the ceremony that he did.

With a big smile you lifted your hand. Giving him a little wave. He smirked and looked down. Continuing down the aisle.

Damn! He thought. He really wanted you to be a part of the wedding party.

Originally you were, but you had just started a new job and couldn't get away for rehearsals or any planning. So you opted to only be a guest. Which sucked for him because now he had to look at the happy couple instead of staring at you.

Once he got to the altar he met your gaze again. He knew he must look crazy grinning the way he was. But he didn't care. The girl he was in love with was in the same town, at the same place he was. And he was gonna make sure he left with you.

The vows and I do’s were said and the pastor gave the bride and groom the go ahead for a kiss.

Eddie looked over at you and you had tears of joy falling from your eyes. He pulled out his handkerchief and took a few steps towards you. Asking for the person sitting in front of you to hand it off.

You blushed and wiped the tears away while he went back to his spot. Gareth nudged him, but he didn't care. He had to make sure you were good.

At this point he would do anything for you. He would give anything to be with you. He'd say anything and everything he could just to see you smile. And for a second he pictured what his life would be like with you.

Applause broke out and he clapped along as Jeff and Connie walked back down the aisle together. Once they were at the end, the guys and bridesmaids followed.

He looked at you again and you were talking to your dad. However, you met his eyes as he passed and mouthed a thank you.

He nodded and planned on circling back around so that he could get to you. Unfortunately, he had to go in the limo as soon as they walked out.

Apparently word mysteriously got out that Jeff was getting married. So there were paparazzi and a handful of fans waiting outside the chapel.

It was a good thing that they had security on standby just in case this happened.

Everyone was escorted into the car and rushed off.

Jeff was pissed but Connie calmed him down. Saying that to not let it ruin their day.

Eddie smiled to himself. He was happy for his friend. Jeff had found the girl he was meant to be with. Even with the band getting bigger and the crazy schedules. One of his best friends got to spend the rest of his life with someone who calmed him. Who accepted him for all that he is and truly made him happy.

Eddie was a little envious of it. Still, he was completely overjoyed for his buddy.

He wanted that. More than anything, he wanted you. So it was his prerogative to be with you.

Everyone had to show their invitations to get into the dance hall. But once in, the music was going and drinks were being served.

Eddie waited patiently by the door. Nearly jumping up and down. Excited to finally get to talk to you.

While giving security your invitation you locked eyes with him and smiled from ear to ear.

You looked away for a second then followed your parents in.

He said hello to everyone as they made their way down the line to the newly Weds. Finally it was your dad's turn. They shook hands and your mom was next.

“ Why hello there, gorgeous. You are a vision.”

Victoria blushed and gave him a playful smack. “ Stop it.”

He laughed and gave her a hug.

At last, it was your turn.

“ Hi Eddie.”

He stood there with his lips together and an eyebrow raised. Giving you his flirtatious smile. “ Hi baby.”

You tilted your head to the side and raised both brows. “ Baby?”

He beamed at you and grabbed your hand. Pulling you closer to him. “ Yeah. You're my baby girl now.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a long warm hug. Rocking you from side to side. Making you laugh.

Grant cleared his throat. “ Alright Munson, you're holding up the line.”

You pulled away but he didn't want to let you go. He gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing it. His eyes never left you as you finally made it down to Jeff and Connie.

He smiled as you took Connie's hand and twirled her around. Clearly admiring how beautiful she looked in her gown. Then you gave her hug. Moving on to the groom. He chuckled seeing you and Jeff do your nerdy handshake before hugging.

Afterwards, everyone sat down to eat. Eddie of course didn't want to sit with the rest of the party. Not while you were just a few feet away. He grabbed his plate and his beer and went to sit next to you.

“ Eddie…Connie's is gonna kill you.” You warned.

He looked up at the head table and saw Jeff and Connie just enamored with each other. Not really paying attention to anything or anyone else but each other for that matter.

He put a hand on the back of your chair and scooted closer. “ I don't think they care.”

He watched you as you glanced at your friends and smiled.

“ Awww I love them.”

He reached up and moved your hair behind your shoulder. Causing you to look at him. “ Want to get out of here?”

You jerked your head back. “ Dude! It's our best friend's wedding.”

As the night progressed you guys were practically inseparable. You danced, drank, and talked. It was as if nothing had changed between you two. He made you laugh and you made him nervous.

It felt right.

Even the approving nods he got from his friends and family assured him this was it. He could do this with you.

Your parents were about ready to leave a couple hours later and you along with them. What could he do to get you to stay?

“ I-I can get you a ride home later if you want.” He offered.

You shook your head. “ No, I have some work to do so I better get going.”

He frowned. “ But we hardly got to hang out.”

You looked down, clearly to him, trying to think of something. When he came up with something first.

“ I uhh I should probably try and find a hotel for tonight.”

You met his eyes with yours. “ Why?”

He nudged his head towards the door. Where there were paparazzi hanging out with cameras at the ready. “ I was gonna stay with my uncle, but I don't want those guys to bother him.”

“O-oh… ummm well you know my parents still have the pull out in the basement. I could...if you want, I could sneak you out? But what about everyone else?”

He shrugged. To hell with them for the night. “ They're adults, they can figure out something I'm sure.”

You softly laughed. “ Alright. How about you go out the service entrance and we’ll circle around for you?”

He smirked. “ Let's go.”

He was laying there in his boxers trying to figure out how to sneak past your parents room and get into your bedroom. Sure it was probably a stupid idea to try and have sex while your parents were across the hall. However he needed you. He craved your lips, and your warmth. He wanted your body next to his.

So he decided to grab something to drink, then see if your parents had gone to bed.

What he found was even better.

You were in the kitchen grabbing a Popsicle. Wearing nothing but a long shirt and tube socks.

When you turned around you jumped. “ Eddie!” You half whispered.

He grinned. “ Sorry baby. Was thirsty.”

He went for a glass to pour himself some tap water. Paying attention to your movements. You had gone to sit at the table and started sucking on the ice cream. All the while reading a manuscript.

He gulped down his drink and went to sit next to you. Pulling the chair as close to you as possible.

You did your best to ignore him and his advances. But the way he played with your hair made you shift closer to him.

You had gotten so overcome by his light touch on your thigh that you squeezed your legs shut. You then flipped the page you were working on and licked the Popsicle that was melting all over your hand. Some of the sweet syrup dripped down your chin. And before you could wipe it away he grabbed your hand with one arm and lightly held your chin between his index finger and thumb with the other. He then licked a fat strip from the underside of your chin up to your bottom lip.

He smirked to himself hearing your breath hitch. He had you right where he wanted.

He stood up and grabbed your hand. Stealing your sweet treat and finishing it off before leading you down to the basement. Of course locking the door behind you.

When he got you on the bed, he finally took that kiss he'd been dying for all day and everyday for the past seven years

Wet and needy. Tongues dancing together. Exploring tenaciously. With hands doing the same.

He started needing your breast and was surprised by something hard. Curious, he went under the shirt and felt two small metal balls on either side of your hardened nipple.

He groaned against your lips. “ Fuck baby. I like this.”

You laughed softly and whispered. “ I knew you would.”

He grinned while he played with your piercing. After a bit he kissed his way down your body until he reached your underwear. But instead of taking them off. He moved the damp cloth to the side and spread you a part.

He was addicted as soon as his tongue touched you. The sweet, sweet nectar that poured from you drove him mindless. But even more so feeling your hand get lost in his curls as the other covered your mouth. Trying to conceal your pleasure.

He stared up at you, enjoying your contorted face as he sucked and licked and swallowed like there was no tomorrow.

Then he added fingers. Doing a come hither motion. Wasn't long after that. Your body trembled as an orgasm hit. Your pussy throbbed around his fingers. Coating them generously with your wetness.

He waited patiently for you to come down before climbing back up your body and crashing his lips into yours. And when he did you sucked in his bottom lip. Causing him to push his hardened length against your soaked undergarments.

You pushed him up off of you and got on your knees before him. He watched in awe as you wrapped your hair up and freed his cock from its cotton prison.

You teased him at first. Giving his head little kitten licks and kisses. It was maddening. Feeling your slick tongue swirl around the tip before retreating back into your mouth.

“ Baby please!” He begged.

You looked up with darkened eyes and a less than angelic smile. “ Shhh. You have to be quiet.”

He pouted. Pleading you with his eyes.

Then you did it. You took the whole damn thing. Making him reach for the back of your head and lifting his hips to go deeper.

The hum in your throat had his eyes rolling back and toes curled until they hurt.

A few seconds passed by and he felt your throat close around him as you started to choke. He loosened his grip and let you back off.

He opened his eyes and focused on you. Watching you catch your breath before taking him in again. This time not so deep. Adding your hand into the mix.

It was fucking amazing. Every slurp, every gag, every teasing lick around his balls nearly had him cumming. Even more so when you forced him in every once every other stroke. Building up his confidence and his orgasm.

“ Sh-shit baby…got-gotta stop.”

You let him go with a small pop and had a concerned look in your eyes.“ Everything okay?”

He licked his lips and swallowed. “ Yeah. Fuckin perfect. Just don't wanna cum yet.”

He leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss while helping you up.

You stood before him and used his shoulders for balance as he peeled off your panties.

Once they were at your feet you kicked them off and straddled him. Slowly lowering yourself on his shaft.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes screwed shut and his tip pushed through.

“ OH MY GOD!” He moaned.

Your warm tight pussy clinged to him. Hugging him like no other has before. Feeling you flutter around him as you rocked back and forth had him focusing on not cumming.

He buried his face in your bosom and concentrated on his target. That one special spot that made you cry out his name. That spot that not only drove you over the edge but made him see heaven.

Sure enough he found it. But at this angle he couldn't touch it as much and he wanted to.

So he wrapped his arms around you and held on tightly as he flipped you over on your back.

You giggled in the process and stole a kiss and he repositioned himself. When he looked at you, you were grinning up at him.

“ Oh Eddie. So serious.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and rammed himself in. Earning that yelp/ moan. He reached up to cover your mouth as he plowed into you.

“ This. Is. Serious.” He grunted.

Your eyes got lost in the back of your head as he thrusted hard and steady. Your moans turning into whimpers and sighs as he fucks you into the bed.

And within moments your body and his reacted to the immense pleasure.

The climax washed over you like a wave of ecstasy.

Once it passes, he rested his forehead on yours panting with you. Letting his hand fall away from your mouth.

“ I've missed you so much.” He whispered.

You nodded in agreement that he was also missed.

He kissed your forehead. “ I'll go find something to clean you up.”

He then pulled out slowly and put on his bottoms.

When he came back he had a warm washcloth with him. He gently cleaned between your legs then himself before pulling you to lay in his arms.

You had started tracing his tattoos. Making him smile.

That's when he found himself writing something on your arm.

‘Marry-me-yeah?’

You sighed lightly and snuggled closer to him. Tracing your answer on his chest.

‘Okay’

He raised his head to look at you. " Yeah?"

You nodded. " On one condition...You have to break the news to Grant."

Eddie threw his head back into the pillow and smacked his forehead. " Shit! He's gonna kill me."

You giggled. " Yup."

…

@salenorona23 @browneyes528 @ohmeg @eddiesguitarskills @trashywormeateroffics @eddie-is-a-god @crookedcrone

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dreamofbecoming · 9 months

Text

yeah alright this got away from me. posting in pieces, part one is just stobin, no shippy stuff. steddie and rockie to follow. i'll drop it on ao3 once all 3 parts are done

now on ao3!

platonic stobin

rating: t

wc: 3.5k

---

Robin stopped being surprised by Steve Harrington showing up at her bedroom window months ago. Jesus, there's a sentence her 16 year old self wouldn't fucking believe for a second. The Hair, climbing up the trellis her dad built for the roses her mom planted and then forgot about three months later? Yeah right, as if. But it turns out alternate dimensions and sci-fi movie monsters and Russian conspiracies in Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA are all real, so how surprising really is The King himself, collapsing through her window with all the grace of a baby giraffe, out of breath like he- holy shit, did he fucking run here?

"Dingus, did you run here? What the hell?"

"Had to- hang on, Jesus. Holy shit." He bends over, hands on his knees, panting like he just ran a marathon. Which, she guesses, he almost did.

"You have a car, you lunatic, what could possibly be so important?"

"Didn't think about it. Had to get here."

"Is someone dead?!" Oh fuck, Is the Upside Down back? Oh shit, oh no, it can't be back, right? Superhero girl closed the gates! Right?! Oh god, oh no, oh fuck, it's back, the Russians are back, they realized they couldn't let her live after what she's seen, her parents will never even know what happened to her, and they'll kill Dingus too, and dorky little Henderson, and that menace Erica, oh god, they're gonna die, and Hopper's gone and superhero girl is far away and she doesn't have superpowers anymore anyway, which is frankly bogus because what the hell, Robin never even got to hang out with a real live magic person before, which, ok, that's a selfish thought, but that's ok, we can think selfish thoughts and then set them aside and not act on them, thoughts are not actions, thoughts happen all the time without our consent, they don't determine our character-

"Bobs, you're spiraling. Nothing bad happened, I just realized something and I freaked out and I had to talk to you right away. Forgot to call. Sorry, I should have called. Ran straight out of the house. I don't even think my shoes match, what the fuck?"

She's gonna kill him, she really is.

She loves him so much.

"Jesus, you're insane. Sit, you absolute dweeb. I'm getting you some water, when I get back you can tell me what the hell is going on."

He's sitting on her bed when she gets back upstairs, staring at something in his hands. Christ, his hands are shaking. What the fuck, Dingus?

He takes the water and downs it in one go- ugh, sports guys- then flops onto his back and covers his eyes with a miserable groan.

"I know we've got the whole twin telepathy thing going on, bubba, but I'm gonna need at least a little bit to work with here. Give me something. Is it your parents? The kids? Uh, what was her name? From Thursday? Janice?"

"Janine, and no. Ugh. Here." The arm not covering his eyes flops out towards her, holding- ah. A zine. He had promised to drive up to Indy last weekend to the secret bookshop she told him about and get her some new ones, even though she couldn't go with him because her cousin Randy got caught cheating on his fiancée and her parents made her come with the rest of the family to help him move. Fucking Randy. Maybe he should make better choices, so the rest of them wouldn't have to clean up his messes. Jerk.

Anyway.

"Marked the page." Which, yep, there's a purple paper clip stuck to a page near the middle, because Steve knows how much she hates people who dogear books, even books that aren't really books at all, so he's been training himself out of it, because he's sort of the best. Again, 16 year old Robin would have her committed for thinking that, but here we are.

The pamphlet isn't one of the periodicals she sent him for, so he must have picked it up on his own. It looks handmade, just some folded sheets that look like they came out of a typewriter, bound with the kind of twine you can buy at the hardware store. It's called Awakenings. The page he's marked looks like a personal essay, no title, no real signature, just a pair of initials at the end of the page and a half of writing. She starts reading, trying to figure out what the hell spooked Steve so bad.

"I've always been normal. I've always had crushes on men, just like the other girls. There was never a feeling of "I'm different," or "Oh, this is wrong." There was never anything to think very hard about. I'd giggle and blush when the boys looked over at us on the playground, same as everyone else. Later on when I was older I looked at my poster of Harrison Ford, shirtless and hairy and sweating, and I touched myself, and it felt good, just like it was supposed to. I didn't mind thinking of my future husband, and our future kids, and the pretty house with the pretty garden we'd have, just like my parents have, just like they wanted for me. I was normal. Everything was fine.

I thought everything about me was normal. So I didn't understand why the other girls at sleepover parties would giggle and stop and say "Ew, gross!" when we practiced kissing. It felt nice! I wanted to keep going! But it seemed like no one else did. I didn't understand why none of them talked about getting butterflies in their stomach when Laura, who was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, transferred in our senior year, why they seemed so angry at her. Those butterflies were what jealousy felt like, right? So why did the other girls seem to feel so different?

I made my first lesbian friend in college, on the very first day, right across the hall in my dorm. We sat next to each other at Orientation and I thought I'd never have another best friend that wonderful in my whole life, so I'd hold on to her with everything I had. She came out to me the night before Christmas break, hiding under the blankets in my dorm room with the twinkling lights glowing. She was so scared. I held her and told her I loved her no matter what, and she seemed so glad, to have someone to talk to.

When she talked about falling in love with girls, I was so confused. The way she described it sounded like what it felt like to have girlfriends, I was sure. I felt that all the time. I asked her if she was sure she was gay, and she looked so shocked and angry and hurt, and I didn't know how to fix it, so I tried to explain. That what she felt couldn't be liking girls, because I felt that too, and I was normal. I liked boys, so I couldn't be gay. I couldn't be.

I'm glad it was her I said all that to. If someone else had told me about being bisexual, I think I would have hated them. I would have cried, and screamed, and said horrible things. Because I wasn't gay, I was normal, and it was so scary to think that might be a lie. Thank God it was her, my best friend in the world, who I never want to lose. Thank God I listened.

Because I'm not normal. I'm queer. I like men, and I like women. I can love them both the same, but it doesn't matter anymore, because I love her. I love her, and she loves me, and I don't need to be normal anymore."

Robin's face feels wet, which probably means she's crying. She cries a lot, reading these sorts of stories, in the zines she has to keep hidden under her bed, or, these days, at Steve's house. It's never going to be her, she knows. Not here in Hawkins, but it still makes something ache deep inside her, like pressing on a bruise, but in a good way, seeing love happen to other people. People like her. Seeing that it can.

"So?"

Oh shit. Right, Dingus. They're about him right now. Something about this essay in particular freaked him out.

"Uh. It's. A nice essay? I'm glad things worked out for them?"

Stevie lets out a pathetic whine, sort of like back at Scoops when he earned a particularly bad tally on the You Suck board. "Robbiiiiiiieeeee!"

"I'm sorry! I think I'm missing something, what's wrong with this essay? I don't get it, bubba, I'm sorry. I need some context." She does feel bad. Usually she can pluck whatever's bothering him right out of his brain and into the light, where it almost never looks as bad, but she's at a loss right now.

He's got both hands over his face again, and his response is so muffled she can't make out a word.

"Try again in human sounds, please."

"Ugh! I thought everyone felt like that!"

Huh? "Felt like...what, exactly?"

"Like that!" He flails wildly at the pamphlet in her hands. He's sitting up now, hair all askew from tugging at it, and there's a vaguely worrying crazed look in his eye, like right before he tackled that guard. "Like kissing boys and girls both feel nice, and like seeing a handsome guy and feeling jealous of him makes my stomach flutter, and like having friends feels the same as having crushes! I thought that was just how everyone felt all the time!"

Oh.

Oh no.

Poor Dingus! No wonder he panicked and ran here like a crazy person!

"Stevie, can I hug you? Please?" She's not much for physical touch most of the time, but Steve is, and also she's found in the last few months that she doesn't mind so much when it's him. She sort of understands why other people like hugs so much, if they always feel like hugging Steve feels for her. And she really thinks he needs to be hugged, right now.

He nods miserably. She drapes her arms around his shoulders and holds on as tight as she can, hauling him sideways until he's practically laying down on her. He clutches her back and buries his face in her shoulder. She can feel her neck getting wet with tears, a sensation that would normally make her want to claw off her own skin, but this isn't about her. Dingus needs her.

"It's ok, bubba. I'm so sorry. I know how scary this is. When I first figured out I had a crush on Linda Sanderson I cried so hard I threw up, you know? I get it. It's gonna be ok, I promise. We'll make it ok. We faced down evil Russians and giant meat monsters, what's a little sexuality crisis, huh? We got this! We're the goddamn Wonder Twins!"

He snorts at that, which she's pretty sure leaves snot on her neck, which. Ew. Still. Problems for Later Robin.

"We are not, Will and El are the Wonder Twins."

"Uh, nope, no chance, I barely even met them so therefore I am vetoing their application. Sorry kiddos, better luck next time! Find your own nickname, losers!"

Steve sits back, laughing, and she preens a little at being able to bring him back from the brink so easily. She loves him so much she feels like she's glowing with it, sometimes. It almost makes her wish she was straight, because what girl is she ever going to find who loves her this much? But only almost, because. Well. Girls, amiright? Phew.

"So what now, Stevie? You wanna say it out loud? That helps, sometimes. You wanna not say it out loud? You wanna go to a gay bar and find you a boy? You wanna never think about it again? It's totally your call."

"Say it out loud, huh?"

"Hm. It took me like a month, and then the first time I could only say it sitting in the back of my closet with the bedroom door locked and the closet door closed, and I could only whisper it. Just "I'm a lesbian," to myself, like the world's most ironic little goblin. And I had to throw up again after. But it did feel good, once I rinsed my mouth out, anyway. Cleansing, you know? And it gets easier every time." Steve's eyebrows are raised and he's chuckling again, so that's a win. She's not lying, but it is sort of funny, she supposes. In hindsight, anyway.

"Ok. Ok, I can do that. I think. Yeah, I can do that."

She's so proud of him. He's the bravest person she's ever met, she thinks. "You wanna get in the closet?"

"Isn't the whole point to come out of the closet, Robs?" He's smirking at her. Bastard. She whacks him in the shoulder on principle. He may be having a crisis, but he's still a jackass. Her favorite jackass in the whole world, but still.

"Har har, you're a regular Bob Hope. Alright then, bigshot, let's hear it."

A little of that fear creeps back onto his face, and she wishes she could wipe it off, but that's not how this works. They can't make the scary things less scary. He couldn't make the Russians less terrifying, but he could hold her hand and make her laugh and carry some of that fear with her. She can do that for him now, too.

She grabs his hand, and he clutches back tightly. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm...fuck. Ok. Ok, I can do this. I'm...bisexual." The air leaves him in a big whoosh, and he laughs a little. "Yeah, ok, fuck. I'm bisexual. Holy shit, Robbie, I'm bisexual!"

"Hell yeah you are!" She's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. She's so fucking proud of him.

He's laughing again, a little hysterically, and he hugs her tight again, and she holds him back just as close and thinks oh, he's like me. I'm not alone. I have Steve, and he's like me, and he's mine forever and ever.

When they separate, she looks at him seriously.

"So do you, like, want this to be a thing? Because we can totally make it a thing, and like, get me a fake ID and go to a gay bar and do all kinds of wild shit if you want, but we don't have to, you know? If you need to just, like. Digest this, for a while. It's totally up to you, I just know it took me a while to feel ok with it, and I have no idea if it's different for you but I just want to be what you need, you know? You've been so good with me, and I've never had a queer friend before, so I don't know how, but I want to be just as good to you. You're my Dingus and I love you and I don't know how much of a gay guru I can be on account of, you know, I've never met any gay people besides me and the pretty lady at the bookstore but I couldn't even get real human words to come out of my mouth when I tried to talk to her so I don't think that counts, you know? But I still wanna help! Let me help!"

"Bobbie! Bobbie breathe, you're gonna pass out. I don't think I need a gay guru, I just need a gay best friend, and I have that, so I promise I'm good, ok? Promise. Also I love you too.”

She takes a deep breath, following his lead the way they worked out in the horrible days after Starcourt, when she couldn't sleep without him next to her, warm and alive and breathing, and even then she would wake up in the night with her breath coming short and her vision tunneling and Steve would hold her hand against his chest and breathe slowly, in and out, until she could follow him, and the world wasn't so terrible and scary and loud anymore.

She still thinks about that awful hour underground, thinking she was strapped to the corpse of a boy she never let become her friend, but Steve is always there now when she needs him, and he never complains when she grabs his wrist or puts her head on his chest to make absolutely sure that big, stupid heart is still beating.

When she's breathing normally again, he drops their joined hands down between them, toying idly with the chain linking her ring to her bracelet. "I think...I think I'm glad I said it, and I'm glad we talked about it, but can we maybe just...put it away, for a while? Like it's not...ugh. I guess this is kind of shitty to say, so like, hit me if you want, I guess, but I kind of don't think it matters right now?"

"No no, that makes perfect sense! Like, you still like girls, right?" He nods. "And you don't like. Have a crush on any boys right now. Or do you? Oh man if you do you have to tell me though, it's platonic soulmate law. It's in the bylaws, Steve, don't make me soulmate fine you!"

He laughs and shoves her face away. "Jesus, Rob, no! I don't have a crush on any guys, who would I even crush on in this town? We're not exactly swimming in eligible bachelors. I don't have a crush on anybody at all, I'd tell you, I swear. I know the rules!"

"Oh phew, good. You have to tell me when you do, though, I'm way excited to get you back for making fun of Tammy."

"It was the God's honest truth, Bobbie! She sings like a muppet!"

"Oh my god, shut up, Dingus! Ugh! As I was saying, you super duper have to tell me when you do, but for now, I think maybe you don't have to think about it really at all if you don't want. I mean, practically speaking, it's not really relevant to your everyday life, so we can totally revisit when that changes, but you don't have to like. Join a pride parade tomorrow, you know? You are you who are no matter what. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to me, not ever."

He leans his head on her shoulder, and she scritches her nails through his hair. It really has no right being as soft as it is, with the amount of hairspray he uses. It's frankly rude, is what it is.

"Thanks, Bobs. I think I'm just gonna put it away for now. It just...another thing to know about me, you know? Like, I'm bad at fighting people but good at fighting monsters, all my best friends are kids except you, I'm bi but it doesn't matter because there aren't any boys to date in Hawkins anyway. Plus my dad would kill me if he found out. Like actually kill me, not "oh geez I missed curfew, my dad's gonna kill me" type kill me, like I think he'd actually try and beat me to death. So there's really no reason to talk about it right now, you know?"

There's a pit of ice in her stomach, and she tightens her arm around him like she can keep him safe just by holding on tight enough. She hates how casually he said that, just like she hates how casually he always talks about how his parents treat him, like he honestly believes it's normal. "Jesus, Dingus. You know you can come here if you need, right? My parents love you, they already think we're getting married. They'd make you sleep in the guest room, but I could sneak you in here easy."

He snorts again. "We're totally gonna end up married for tax reasons anyway, we're never beating the rumors." That makes her snort, too. He's not wrong, though. She isn't going to be allowed to have a wife anytime soon, and if she has to choose someone to be her next of kin, it's always gonna be him. They're planning to move in together when she goes to school next year anyway. No one is ever gonna believe them that they aren't dating, but that's...fine. Honestly, there are worse things. Better to have Steve by her side than not, and if no one else understands them, well, they understand each other, don't they? That's more than enough.

"Yeah, I know I can come here if I need, Robs. It's fine mostly, I swear. They're not home until Christmas anyway."

He takes another deep breath, like he's settling himself. "I'm just glad we talked about it. I feel better now."

She cards her fingers through his hair again, basking in the feeling of her favorite person so close, and so content. "I'm glad, Dingus."

They're alive, and they're together, and they're queer, and neither of them is ever going to have to be alone again.

"Hang on, did you say you've kissed girls and boys?!"

part 2 part 3

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steve harrington & robin buckley #steve harrington #robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #steve's bi awakening #my writing #robin calls steve bubba and steve calls her bobbie and i will die on both those hills #you can pry their weird nicknames from my cold dead hands #autistic robin buckley #it’s subtle but it’s there and it’s important to me #also her parents are therapists i’m sure of it

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mysticficti0n · 11 months

Text

All my attention Part 4

warnings- swearing, drinking, sexual tension, romance, fighting?

words- 3.8k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while- I'm on holiday atm so I probably wont be posting till I'm home BUT I didn't want you to be without, also fucking thank you all so much for the response to the first and second part and now third! I can't believe the response to it, I could've cried because im a baby , love you all

(P.s- this one is shorter and shittier, I've not had much free time so this was written between 2 days- so I'm sorry I promise once I'm home they will get much better and saucy 😉)

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

"okay rock, paper, scissors who goes first" I smiled turning to him, we balled our fists up and chanted "rock, paper, scissors" Tom held rock and I was paper "YES!" I cheered

"yeah well done" Tom cooed dramatically, I looked around and Tom put his hands back onto my legs fiddling with my anklet I forgot I had on and finally something caught my eye

"eye spy with my little eye something beginning with C" I spoke seeing his eyes dart around the car and out the window

"case?" I shook my head "cigarets?... car?... cap?.... your erm.. cardigan!?" I laughed seeing him become annoyed so easily "how hard can it be... is it in here?"

"yes it is- all around us in fact" Tom's brown eyes widened at my words and he carried on looking

"crisps?... OH Carpet!" he finally called to which I clapped my hands "thats such a shit one" he moaned

"so why did it take you 6 try to get it Thomas?" I asked eyeing him slightly

"shut up- alright erm.. eye spy with my little eye... ah... something beginning with B" he smiled looking at me

"Books?... bottles?...bags?....Bill?.... bandage?... bracelets?... is it in or out?" Tom blew at my words

"sorry what? in or out?"

"yes in the car or out the car!?" he oh'ed at me with a smirk forming on his face

"in" with a nod I carried on looking, I couldn't see anything beginning with B and I began to give up "wanna another clue?"

"yes because I don't have a fucking idea" I grumbled

"its living" my eye squinted seeing Tom laugh at me

"no I give up what the fuck begins with B and is 'living'?!" I called slamming myself back into my seat

"bassist" he purred looking back at a sleeping Georg

"we're not playing eye spy anymore" I spoke turning away from him and looking out the window

"oh come on!" Tom pinched "I'll make it easier" I turned back and saw his eyes look softer, a pout forming on his lips "please" he whined

"can't we just spend time together?" I asked pouting like him

"go fuck yourself Y/n" the guitarist huffed shoving my legs off his lap "I wanna play a game!" angrily he crossed his arms like an annoyed toddler and sunk deeper into the chair, I sat up straight and leant towards him, close to the shell of his ear

"we can play when were home Tommy" I whispered gently to him, his posture became more stiff and he tucked his lip between his teeth, our eyes met and for a long moment we stayed still just staring

"is that a promise?" he spoke back giving me a shiver down my spine, a serious blush colouring my cheeks, I always try have the upper hand when we 'flirt' but I always melt at his words

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I woke up to the feeling of being unbuckled out my seat, my eyes parted to see a smiling black haired boy who was whispering something "oh you're awake, were home sleeping beauty" he let go and moved to be out the way, I looked out to see the sky a beautiful purple and pink then... my home

the orange brick and small patterns in-beaded in the concrete (this is what I'm basing it off, I know its says luxury but I just like the outside look of it! ) and the white windows, it was a refreshing sight, I saw all our bags outside the front door and I practically ran up, I passed Gustav who was looking at the flowers that bloomed around the drive, I opened the door and saw the hall I remember running down as a child and all the family pictures decorating the place "MOM! WERE HOME!" I called listening to where her voice would come from

"OKAY COME OUTSIDE, BRING THE BOYS!" she shouted back, I went and gathered the other 4 and brought them threw the house we all knew to well, we went right through and saw our families chatting and drinking wines, beer and small snacks were laid out "oh my darlings, how was your drive?"

"Long we got stuck for fucking ages" Bill cursed grabbing a beer "happy to be home" we all agreed and grabbed ourselves a beer, cheering them all together and taking a swig, I looked out to the garden seeing my sister in her little house playing with my dad and Gustav's and then our trampoline

"hold this" I spoke to Georg who grabbed my bottle, I took off down the garden and climbed onto the metal and started jumping seeing everyone watching me "Hi Stella!"

"Hi hi Baba!" she waved giving me a gummy smile as she watched me bounce up and down

"Y/N YOU'RE 17!" Simone called

'AND WHAT!" I shouted seeing her laugh, then Bill tapped his brothers shoulder and came down the steps to me and got on the trampoline, we bounced each other laughing as one went higher than the other, soon Gustav joined, then Tom and then finally Georg and soon we were making everything a competition "I CAN GET HIGHER!" I called as everyone jumped shooting me into the air "AHHH HOLY SHI-" I screamed as I came back down, we played crack the egg and alligator and gazelles but then my dad came and pulled us off

"we have guests, they've come to see you all- so behave and grow up will ya" he warned as we all rolled our eyes "ah- say it"

"yes sir" we all groaned walking back up into the house seeing our parents hugging someone "who is it?" Gustav asked grabbing his beer again

"dunno" Bill spoke trying to see over the group "looks like a women?" I thought to myself but came to no avail

"Y/n, Bill, Tom you remember Scarlett and her family right?" my mom asked bringing a women forward, she had dark brown hair and very fair skin, I looked to the twins who like me had no clue

"erm.. yea of course, Scarlett lovely to see you" Tom spoke first sticking his hand out with a fake smile

"oh Bill! look how grown up you are" she pulled the wrong twin into a hug

"oh no thats Bill, this is Tom" my mom laughed patting the taller twins shoulder

"oh I'm sorry boys- you look so similar!" I watched as the two eyed each other, with their totally opposite style that they've had since the late 90's you'd think people could differentiate the two

"ah yeah" Tom replied as the women hugged his brother

"and Y/n you look so different, what happened to your hair? and you have so many ear pricing! and you have boobs!" she chuckled giving me a hug

"yep- comes with being a girl" I spoke awkwardly "oh and this is Gustav and Georg" the lady waved to them to which the two smiled "how are you anyways" I asked trying to redirect the conversation

"good good, moved house, re-married left that cheating fucker I called my husband- 5th marriage now" Scarlett grinned making us go wide eyed "but you know, me and Benson and Zach, my youngest son who I don't think you've met tried to get tickets to your concerts, I remember how you 4 used to be amazing friends but obviously went different paths.. well actually- Benson doll come here, come say hi!" my eyes went to the two boys who shrugged not remembering a Benson, soon a tall-ish blonde boy with blue eyes stepped forward "no- get your brother- they don't know you" she hurried making me cringe slightly for the boy who frowned

"its alright if he's busy scar, they can say hello later" my mom smiled placing her hand on Toms arm

"no no- ah here you are, remember-"

"holy fuck" I spoke seeing the boy, well now man. Very tall, black haired, freckled faced, green eyed boy who I remembered being a awkward, snotty, weird little kid "ben?"

"Y/n god its been years" he spoke, his voice was deeper and rougher "Bill, Tom" he shook their hands and the two smiled remembering our old friend, he moved to me hugging me

"you've changed dude" Tom laughed staring at him

"I know, I thought I should make something of myself, I mean I look at you three and i'm shit compared" a snicker left my mouth and he joined in "yeah I mean, we all moved on right" he looked back at me and I saw his eyes travel along me and a smirk on his face "we all changed"

"ah-well erm... what are you doing now or?" Tom joined coming closer to me and putting an arm around my shoulder pretending to get comfy but I knew what he was doing "got a girlfriend?" I looked to the dreaded boy who didn't take his eyes of the other boy

"oh no no, can't be arsed with all the girl stuff, to much work I'd rather get my fair share, sorry Y/n- anyways, I'm an electrician.. don't want to bore you all so I'll let you go but erm, we should catch up so I can here all about your guys concerts" he looked back towards me

"yeah we should, maybe we could meet you at a bar?" I asked seeing the twins eyeing the boy again, Bill had a frown watching him

"ah well- they have their own lives I was thinking me and you? like a date maybe at my place?" I laughed slightly but Tom stepped in before I could even get a word out

"yeah she has her own life too but we have to relax for a while, we've been on tour and we have a radio show thing tomorrow night- thats our life so..." I saw Bill laugh

"basically were saying you're not putting your cock in her Ben- you're still as weird as you when we were kids" the other twin spat getting a glare from Ben and his mother who stood looking at Bill with a lopsided smile

"I think Y/n can speak for herself" she quipped making me roll my eyes

"look its nice n all, and you're a very.. nice guy but you kinda ruined it by saying having a date at yours, I've traveled all over and I know I maybe a girl but I'm not stupid- were not gonna fuck" with a huff he went to turn away

"its fine, id rather not be known for sleeping with the chubby slut side singer from a band sad fuckers listen to anyways" my jaw dropped, who the fuck did he think he was talking to?

"watch your fucking mouth" I spoke seeing the families turn to look at me, he smiled looking down at me "don't fucking smile at me because I'll carve you into the floor you dick" I hissed shoving him away as he tried to step forwards attempting to intimidate me

"okay calm down sugar" at that I felt the arm that was around me go and Tom was over the boy pushing him back

"TOM!" his mom called "BILL GET YOUR BROTHER!" he 'tried' pulling his brother off but he was enjoying this, Bill loved drama "Gordon grab him" she spoke shoving her boyfriend at Tom. The boys step dad grabbed him away and Tom shouted a few words back at him

"DON'T FUCKING TRY- YOU WONT DO SHIT" Tom roared trying to push off Gordon who was holding his shoulders talking to him to get him away, my mom was ushering us away, our fathers stood watching cheering on Tom, not helping the situation getting angered stares from the women

We watched as Scarlett went out shouting things to her son and waving my mother bye, with a breath it was time to face the words of our mothers "what was that for!" my mom Angelica spoke with a growl

"mom it wasn't Toms fault" I began seeing her shake her head "he was trying to get me to fuck him, they were sticking up for me"

"Tom, Bill Is this true?" Tom nodded taking a sip of his beer

"then he called her chubby and a slut! like come on Angie in makes sense why" Bill added and my moms eyes shot up

"what!" Simone spoke standing from her seat "that bitch" my mom shot her a look and she sat back down

"well Tom, you two as well, I understand why it happened. carry on" we nodded and walked to Georg and Gustav who were laughing

"had fun?" Gustav shoved his friend

"fuck off" Tom whispered staring out to the garden

"I think I'm going to change" the boys nodded and I lifted my drink and made my way up stairs to my room tabled 'my little sunshine' the sticker had been on there since I was born- It was a nickname only my mom called me and I knew if she didn't say it I was in a lot of shit. I looked in the mirror and saw in the reflection the large poster of Tokio Hotel I had above my make-up desk, It was us doing our 'signature' pose pointing to the camera with our bad bitch faces on as Bill said. I took off my shirt leaving me in my baggy jeans and a bra with lace curling around it, I walked to my window which looked over the back garden and watched as the boys were now playing with Stella, it looked like they were having a tea party of sorts which made me smile, I loved how they treated Stella like their sister too

"Y/n can I come in?" a voice startled me as his face appeared around the door

"fuck, yeah come in, I thought you were outside still" I laughed seeing Tom but his face didn't copy mine- he was still angry, he perched on my bed looking around the room "I think I might redecorate its little, dated" he nodded but his eyes went back to me

"I'm sorry" I furrowed my eyebrows

"for what?, you were sticking up for me I'm not going to be like 'ugh Tom how dare you!' am I?" a small smile cracked on his lips

"I keep being really... over the top I guess, like say you did actually like Ben and I just acted like that?" I rolled my eyes sitting myself next to him placing my hand on his knee

"I would've told you to back off- so don't worry" his eyes drifted to mine and turned softer, I moved my hand to his jaw and let my thumb caress his cheek "and I like you being protective over me, so you're fine"

"you're to good to me" he spoke watching me closely "and I could be a lot more protective of you, if thats what you like" his voice was a sultry whisper, I neatly melted to his words, I think he realised when he chuckled deeply causing me to just shudder, our foreheads knocked onto each others, our lips brushing each others

"okay pretty boy- lemme change" Tom's face lit up slightly with a blush but he sighed laying back on my bed covering his eyes "fine" I accepted he wasn't going to leave which in reality didn't effect me, I got changed infront of him a lot so quickly I pulled out a black tube top, my zip up hoody and sprayed myself with my 'can can' spray

"that smells good" he stood up coming to stand behind me, arms circling my waist "remember what you said earlier?" he spoke in my ear pressing a small kiss to my jaw

"I do, but people will be wondering why you've got a boner so... and you can't really say its from your best friend because she's so sexy and turns you on beyond any other girl in the universe can you?" I smiled turning to him, I knew I was torchering him "and then everyone will know you have a crush on me, because I'm so perfect"

"you play a hard game Y/l/n" I grinned turning myself in his arm so his hand was on my back "literally"

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the moon rose into the sky, Stella was in bed and we were all sat around a small fire the dad's made, my mom and Gustav's mom were making cocktails in the kitchen while Georg and the twins mom chatted while sipping on some wine from earlier, leave us five talking about our shows

"I think we could be more extravagant" Bill spoke "more lights and make the ground shake uno?"

"yeah I want to be deaf at the end" Gustav added taking a bite of a sandwich

"maybe we should try traveling more with tour? like going to America and England, Mexico" I asked cuddling into the blanket we had

"hot chicks in England" Georg added cheersing Tom with their beer "and guys for you" we all laughed and soon Gustav's mom came out with a tray of drinks, 5 cocktails and 5 shots, followed by my dad holding a camera

"we are calling these 'Tokio Hotel martini'!" she called handing us glasses full of a purple liquid "its 3 ounces gin, ½ ounce maraschino liqueur, ½ ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice, ¼ ounce crème de violette, ice and Cocktail cherry for garnish!" she smiled "and here's some vodka" a laugh left our lips as we all quickly grabbed one "enjoy!" we all tapped the shots twice onto the table and knocked them back and quickly chased it with the 'Tokio hotel martini' which was delicious to say the least

"mom these are amazing" Gustav hummed "thank you" we all spoke together

"you can tell they're our children" Simone began wrapping a arm around my mom "little shits" she smiled

"thanks mom" Bill grinned

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The night turned into just everyone relaxing, Georg and Bill went up into the spare room and to sleep, Gustav was playing pool with the dads while me and Tom sat with our moms and drank different alcohol that was set out, I was sat leaning on the arm of the chair and my legs over Tom who was stroking them without a thought

"what times that interview thing?" Alexia Georg's mom asked tapping me on the shoulder

"erm... I'm not sure- Tom what time is the-" he looked over answering before I could finish

"starts at 6" he went back to his conversation and Alexia only giggled

"6 then, how come?"

"well we were thinking of booking a meal, as like a celebration and inviting all the grandparents because they've missed you all, so you think it would be done for 9?" I nodded seeing her walk into he house and pull the phone off the hook, I turned back to the dreadlocked boy and just found myself staring at him, just the way he looked while in a serious conversation but then a smile appearing on his face when a joke was made, the way he held me like I was his but I knew it was just a platonic sort of thing, we'd never done anything besides kiss, I knew I'd never be his- I wasn't going to be mad if he did find girls I mean come on its Tom Kaulitz he could get any girl, I was just lucky we were so close anyways, all I knew is that he liked making out with me and occasionally I looked pretty to him

"thats what I said to Y/n, because we want one...yeah what do you think?- Y/n" I was snapped out my trance by him shaking my leg gently

"sorry what was that?" I asked bring myself to the conversation

"getting a tattoo" my mouth made a 'O' shape and nodded

"yes oh my god I want so many but we want one for the band" Tom nodded looking back to the women "and I want to get some more piercings, like the middle of my lip and nose" my mother shook her head

"why your nose! its so cute" Bella Gustav's mom joined "'the lip will look badass though" I smiled seeing my mom sigh at her friend not being very helpful "what! come on Angelica lighten up"

"you'll love it mom!" she nodded rolling her eyes

"well its getting late- I think you two and Gus should go up to bed, its already.. fuck 12:30, Yes bed" She began pulling me and Tom up and calling Gustav over, we hugged and kissed everyone goodnight and made our way into our rooms, Gustav walked in and just fell onto the air mattress on the floor, I looked to see Georg and Bill sharing the bed, Bill had stolen most the blanket as usual so being the good friend I am I went and grabbed an extra blanket for the bassist and placed it over him

"let me walk you to your room" Tom whispered grabbing my hand and pulling me down the corridor into my bedroom, the room was dim but I could make out where he was and the smirk along his lips "I saw you staring at me" I tried to avoid his eyes "oh so you wont look at me now huh?" he pushed and I stayed silent, embarrassed of how he saw me, his fingers curled under my chin and pulled my face to meet his which looked softer "you're okay Y/n" Tom pulled me closer which I didn't even know was possible, my heart began beating quickly, it felt as if it could leap out of my chest at any moment. Our eyes met for a brief moment again before he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to mine. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as I melted into his embrace. Every inch of my body was on fire as I smiled feeling his breath on me, the kiss felt different, and had more meaning then the ones before "fu-fuck you're so beautiful" he hummed. Together we stumbled to my bed where he fell below me, I crawled to be closer to him, Tom's hands searching my body but quickly finding themselves comfy on my waist, I held his face between my hands, smoothing his skin with my thumbs. we parted with dopey smiles smothering our faces, lips pursed and eyes open only slightly "actually I prefer looking at you from down here"

"oh yeah- bet you do" I laughed feeling him sit me on his hips which a small yelp left my mouth "sorry" the guitarist only grinned moving his hands onto my thighs with a sigh "what?" I asked

"what are we?" a question I had actually wondered a lot about "I know what I'd like to be"

"and whats that?" I spoke leaning closer to him, letting the smell of his cologne and beer fill my nose

"yours"

#bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #00s #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz imagines #germany #tom kaulitz icons #monsoon #Scream 2007 #2007 #y2k nostalgia #2000s

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delopsia · 10 months

Text

Dancing Beneath The Moon | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 10,000 Cross Posted on AO3 Brief Summary: How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you? Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Ghost!Rhett AU (with a twist! I won't tell you what kind but it's a twist!), friends to lovers, Trevor does not take rejection very well (please be advised that he does yell at the reader and scare them), unprotected sex, mentions of violence, and Rhett's 'murder.' Please refer to the user manual and wash your cowboy before sex.

"I-I'm sorry, I need to leave."

"Trevor, wait!" Your feet patter across the floor, struggling to keep up as he lets himself out the door, "I can explain."

Only on the front porch does he stop, ostrich-skin boots clicking against the old wood with every step, "You don't need to," holding up one hand, as if to ward you off, "I just...forgot my Dad asked me to interview our new ranch hand today."

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again, gaping like a damn goldfish.

"I'll call you later," and that's all Trevor leaves you with, skittering off the porch and clambering up into that lifted F-150, with its perfect, custom black paint that glimmers a deep blue as he tears down your driveway.

Ugh.

"Rhett!" Your voice echoes throughout the house, punctuated by the slamming of the door behind you. So loud, and yet you can still hear the vicious banging of your beloved cast iron skillet banging on your kitchen tile. A shrill clatter of noise that has you fighting the urge to cover your ears as you storm into the kitchen.

And there he is. The translucent motherfucker, sitting cross-legged beneath your table, peeking out from beneath it. "What?" A big, shit-eating grin lacing his barely there features, so innocent and childlike that you almost don't believe he was the cause of this mayhem.

Almost.

The skillet in his hand provides a pretty damning counterargument.

"I'd kill you if you weren't already dead," fuming, yanking that dented skillet out of his hand; Rhett's grip is strong, but not enough to stop you from taking your cookware back.

"I was playin' with that," he huffs, a cold wind that tickles your ankles.

The skillet lands in the sink with a clatter. "And I was trying to have a date," you hiss, throwing your hands up, "but I'm unfortunate enough to share a house with a ghost who doesn't have any fucking manners!"

"I have manners!" Rhett's up in the air now, a buzzing collection of mist that floats up to the ceiling, no longer human, "I just ain't got 'em for big shots that wanna play cowboy for a day!"

"He is a cowboy," he's not. You know he's not. But god, you are not giving Rhett fucking Abbott the satisfaction of you agreeing with him. "You wouldn't know, being ancient and all that."

The temperature drops. Mist scattering. You can't tell where he is anymore. "I would know 'cause I am a fuckin' cowboy!" His disembodied, roaring voice comes from all directions. "No good-minded cowboy wears a goddamn rolex on a work day, 'cause they know that shits fixin' t'get scuffed!"

"Cowboy or not, you're going to have to get over it," as you reach for the tap, you think you can feel his presence behind you. Some invisible thing that sends your skin prickling, even with the knowledge of how harmless he truly is. "Trevor's coming back, and if you keep scaring him off, I'm phoning a priest."

"Fine!" Booming behind you.

"Fine!"

He's gone for the rest of the night.

The pizza guy scares the hell out of you when he knocks on the door. Not because you had forgotten about your order but because you were waiting on the curtains to peel themselves open. Expecting to hear a deep, half-hearted grumble about how "your date is here" as the fella clambers out of his beat-up sedan.

But it never comes.

Rhett doesn't even bug you about giving him a slice that he knows he can't eat, but you catch yourself putting a plate out for him. You wonder if he's in the room to see you rushing to put it back in the cupboard. Maybe he's out in the field because the television doesn't miraculously change to the Animal Channel like it usually does. You don't catch a glimpse of him lingering in the mirror whilst you brush your teeth.

You're glad.

You didn't want to see his ugly mug anyway.

Strange how such a big presence can vanish so easily, without a trace or hint of where he went, leaving this big farmhouse feeling like a husk of what it usually does. The temperature drops a degree or two when he's around, but without him, it feels like you've set up camp in the Arctic. How can a dead man bring so much life to a place?

But the covers are tucked around you in the morning.

You can't see him, but when you step into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed and yawning, you can feel him wisping around you. That invisible presence seeking for anything to get back on your good side.

The toast lifts itself onto a plate before it can be burnt by that old, barely functioning toaster of yours. On the table, the weekly grocery ad flips open to a discount on new toasters, a lazily written note scrawled beneath it. 'They even have the color you were wanting! :)'

He pulls the chair out for you to sit, and when you defiantly head out onto the porch to eat, he pulls the patio chair out for you too. You hate giving him the satisfaction of helping, but it's hard to avoid him when he's free to roam this entire property.

But the one thing you've forgotten is just how hot Wabang can get, even this early in the morning. Birds tiredly chirp from their nests, unwilling to take flight beneath the sweltering sun; the old wind chime is silent, not even the slightest breeze appearing to help it sing its tune. You've been outside for a mere five minutes, and yet sweat already beads on your forehead.

A cold nothingness wisps past you. Round and round your little patio table, stirring up a breeze that doesn't reach the trees.

"You can come out, Rhett," fighting your laugh is futile because it slips out as you speak, dancing through the air in tune with the wind chime.

The opposite chair scoots out on its own, a pale blue mist collecting in the seat; it'll take him a moment to get settled back into form. "Did ya happen to find my headstone yesterday?"

Your head is shaking before he can get his sentence out. "Are you sure you were buried in Wabang?"

"I don't know where else I'd be," Rhett's face isn't fully there yet, but his scowl is, settled deep into his nonexistent features. "Wabang was the only place my folks ever knew."

Your heavy tongue can't be brought to tell him about the graves you did find. Royal and Cecelia buried together, their son Perry right next to them, and their granddaughter Amy buried in the row in front of them, next to a headstone simply titled 'Autumn.'

Rhett should know. He deserves to know where his family rests, but you can't bring yourself to tell Rhett that his killer was given the privilege of being buried next to his parents. Don't know how to tell him that the Amelia County Sherrif dug up an old newspaper declaring Perry Abbott as not guilty of Rhett's murder.

"C'n I bug you to put a cup of coffee out?" Rhett chirps, and that permanently scruffy face almost looks real. His eyes must have been as blue as the ocean deep when he was alive, for even now, they glow with their color. The only thing off about him is his slight transparency and the rays of sunlight that spear through his body.

"You didn't smell it enough this morning?" You ask, but you're getting up anyway; you'd rather not deny his request and risk him making a mess by trying to do it himself.

His boots click across the old wood, in perfect tune with your step, "wasn't here."

"Where did you go?" You're already grabbing his mug out of the cupboard, other hand reaching for the coffee pot.

He's quiet for a moment, and then, "barn." When you turn around, he's no longer there, a plume of mist once more, but you don't need to see him to know that his eyes are transfixed on the ground. "Didn't think y'wanted me in the house after last night."

Most people would love it if their ghosts would leave the residence; let them live in peace without being heckled by the souls who can't move on. You'd know; you were one of them, once upon a time.

"You don't have to leave every time we bicker, Rhett," it feels strange to say, but those words are spoken directly from the heart, "this is your house too."

He manifests again. Back to his favorite spot beneath the edge of the kitchen table, cross-legged, where he can peek out to see what you're doing. A little too big to fit, but he makes it work.

Like clockwork, his right-hand toys with the cracked edge of a linoleum tile, the one he's pulled up numerous times in the past.

"Please don't tear up my tile," you try to say it as gently as you can; you know why he's so drawn to it, but you really don't want to spend an afternoon fixing your beloved floor again. Wordless, he leaves his spot, content to settle down in a kitchen chair and smell his coffee. The closest he can get to enjoying its flavor.

You wind up back in bed early in the afternoon. Downed by a migraine that refuses to pass, settling deep into your skull, brought on by an unknown cause. You think it may be from the obnoxiously strong air freshener you plugged in; Rhett blames it on your cellphone.

"Care for some company?"

You're fortunate that Rhett Abbott is easy on the eyes because it's difficult to open them. There he is, standing near the edge of the bed, in the same spot you met him three years ago.

At least this time, the two of you aren't screaming, startled by each other's sudden presence.

"As long as you don't hog the sheets," comes your conclusion, and the bed is dipping as soon as the last word has left your mouth. A weight that isn't there settles across from you, a human-shaped indent that by all means shouldn't exist.

Rhett's hair falls into his face as his pretty head lands on the pillow, snuggling against it, and you know he's trying his best to remain as solid as he can. He says he's not touch-starved, but you're starting to think that he's lying.

Your hand wanders out on its own, carefully settling against that misty cheek, trying not to go through him. "You look a little more solid than usual."

"Only took a couple years of practice," the corner of his lip rises with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Oh, why does he have to look so sad when your hand inevitably passes through him?

You don't know if ghosts can cry, but his eyes seem to water as he feels your touch falter. They always do, but it never gets any easier to look at. It never gets easier, watching his smile wobble back into a frown, and his form grow a little more opaque.

Opening your arms to him probably isn't the best move to make. You've both discussed this; roommates is as far as this relationship can ever go because anything more asks for nothing but heartache. Heartache, such as the crushing feeling of feeling him squirm closer and not being able to feel him when you wrap your arms around his waist.

The only sign that he's real is the coldness you feel against your chest as his head settles against there. And, maybe, just maybe, you think you can feel wisps of his hair tickling your skin.

"What the hell is that?"

You haven't even taken it out of the box, and Rhett is already puffing up like a feral cat about it. "What does it look like, Rhett?"

The living room light flickers, his blue mist settling into the corner of the couch, as far as he can get from the box sitting on the floor. Refuses to take any more form than he already has, doesn't know how to react to this new thing that now sits in the same room as him.

"I don't have a clue," he says after a moment.

"It's a video game console," you want to take it out of the box and prove that it's not going to hurt him, but you don't want him getting any more surprised than he already is.

Against all odds, it seems you've got his attention because you can see his face now, head cocked to the side like a puppy. "A huh?"

"It connects to the television," nodding your head toward the flat screen next to you, "you can use it to play games on it."

He perks at that. "You can play checkers on the TV?"

Checkers wasn't what you had in mind, but you're sure it's on there.

There's a lot of fumbling involved. All the various cords and manuals only serve to confuse him more than he already is, and though he tries his best to help, he's not much assistance. There are less than five cords for the system, and he thinks they're all HDMI cables. But he's helpful when it comes to squeezing behind the television, at least.

"So that box...puts the game on the screen?" He asks as soon as you've settled onto the couch together, scooted as close as he can possibly get. "And you use that thing to play?"

For a cowboy who grew up in the days of black-and-white television, he catches on quickly. "For the most part, yes."

You'd won this thing in a raffle held down at the Bison Valley Bank of Wyoming, entered just for the hell out of it while you were down there a couple of months ago. How you won a new gaming console and why it came with a second controller, hot pink in color, you'll never know.

Rhett's simply poking at the joystick, unwilling to pick it up just yet, but you know he'll take to it like he did your television. Later, you'll wish you hadn't, but for now, you'll download one of his favorite board games.

"Monopoly?" He's fighting it, but there's still a twinge of excitement in his tone.

Now he's picking it up.

And within the hour, you regret even bringing the damn console into the house because you lose. Horribly. As soon as Rhett figured out the controls and the slight change in rules, you knew you didn't stand a chance. You can't even be upset about your crippling loss because he's kicking his legs back and forth and giggling.

"One more round?" He pleads, those opaque eyes sparkling with their childlike wonder, and you know he's never going to let this controller go.

"Let me get a drink, and then we'll play another," are you only agreeing because you enjoy the melody of laughter coming from your household ghost?

Absolutely not.

...okay, maybeyou are, but still.

At least he can't see your smile as you head for the kitchen, socked feet pattering across the cold hardwood without much of a sound. Already formulating a plan in your head, the next surprise move that might help you beat Rhett at one of his favorite games. If you can buy all four railroads before Rhett does...

The floor bends beneath your foot. Something crackles.

"Rhett, can you come here for a second?" Frozen in place, afraid to make another move. The lights are off; you can't see what's going on, but something feels wrong.

His presence is there before you can think any further, a chill ghosting over your body as he breezes around you. Circling like he's making an attempt at thwarting your fears before he flicks the light switch on.

And now you see it.

The kitchen floor is beginning to cave in, bowing inwards, right where your kitchen table sits. Beneath your foot, the tile has begun to crack, breaking into smaller pieces that cannot withstand any amount of weight on top of it.

"That floor's fixin' to collapse, doll," comes his voice, seemingly from all directions.

You're moving to step off of it and venture back out into the presumably safe hallway. But the floor crackles even louder. Tiles buckling beneath both of your feet. Sinking lower.

"I don't think I can," your body sways, fighting to remain upright.

Rhett's silently wrapping around you, formless blue mist shaping around you like a hug, tugging you away with a surprising amount of force. Practically takes your feet out from under you as he hauls you out of the kitchen.

"You're stronger than you look," you mutter in the hallway. Where the floor is solid and doesn't threaten to come out from under you.

"Only when I'm wantin' to be," he mutters directly into your ear, and you're suddenly glad that you've never asked how strong he is, as a ghost and all, "Now what kind of drink were you after?"

Rhett's your kitchen boy for the next three days until you can get someone to come and take a look at your floor. Balancing drinks and plastic cups that occasionally end in a tragic spill because he's not as good at balancing small objects. The first person never shows up; the second arrives bright and early in the morning, interrupting your morning conversation with Rhett on the porch.

"Now, like I said before, I don't have my equipment on me, so I can't guarantee you that this is the case," the guy begins, and you really, really hope he doesn't look up and see Rhett's dumbass sitting on the counter, "but my biggest guess is that your foundation has been exposed to too much moisture for too long."

"What's the worst-case scenario for this?" Your attention flickers between him and Rhett; what if it's something that you can't afford to fix?

He pauses to press his foot against the floor one more time, carefully surveying the way it shakes beneath the weight, tile crackling once more, "now it's highly unlikely, but worst case scenario, in my opinion, would be a sinkhole."

Your face drops.

"But that's highly unlikely," and he doesn't seem too concerned as he turns to face you, "I wouldn't worry until we get back out here and tear up the floor this coming Monday."

So Monday it is. That will be the day you find out if it's a simple fix or if you'll have no choice but to move out and leave your beloved house ghost all by his lonesome. Rhett seems to catch onto that thought, too. Remarkably quiet for the rest of the afternoon.

You can't blame him. For about forty-five years, this house was occupied by a family of religious folk who used some sort of herb to quite literally render Rhett into a state of unconsciousness. One too many surprise appearances in the mirror doomed him to sleep for all those years, only -reawakening after you moved in and scrubbed this old farmhouse from top to bottom.

He's never known what it's like to be alone. The closest he's come to it is the sporadic vacations you've taken over the past couple of years. None of which have lasted longer than a week, but all of which have ended in him waiting on the porch, tackling you the moment you stepped out of your car.

Unless he can attach himself to you, he'll never be able to wander further than the fields that surround your home.

Rhett doesn't take form again until Sunday night.

You don't know why you've drug these two lawn chairs out into the lawn, past the gravel that eats up the area around the house, but you have. Lounging, gazing up at the moon and stars hanging high above your heads, pointing out all the shapes you find amongst them.

The portable radio drones lowly in between you, stuck on the same old country station, ever since Rhett and his ghostly ways accidentally jammed it last summer.

"Do you wanna dance with me?"

And you don't know if...did you make that up in your head? Or was that just the radio?

"You know I'm not drunk this time, right?" Your head tilts, aiming to get a glimpse of him. He's already looking at you, smiles weakly as you meet his eye. Laying here, cloaked in the silvery light of the moon, he looks...real. If you reached out, you're sure you'd feel the scruff of his cheek scratch at your palm.

He hums, "I know." Pausing, just for a moment, to look up at the stars one more time. Your eyes follow, scanning the speckled sky, delighted to catch the tail end of a shooting star. You should make a wish...but you can't think of anything to wish for. "I just...wanted t' know what kinda dancer you are when you're sober."

"Alright," comes your answer; dry, nothing more to add to it.

And you don't know where it comes from, but Rhett reaches off to the side of his chair and plucks a translucent cowboy hat off the ground. Takes care to dust it off with his scarred palm, even though nothing can possibly dirty it, before carefully placing it atop his head.

He holds his hand out for you to take as if it's something that's become possible all of a sudden, and against better judgment, you do just that. Slipping your palm into the chilly illusion of his, deceiving yourself into believing that you feel his fingers curling around your hand. It's not, but as he leads you out further into the grass, it becomes easy to deceive yourself.

"Whoever taught you to dance, anyway?" You giggle as he spins you around; catches you by the waist when you come to face him once more.

He grins, big and wide, and you think you see his teeth glint in the moonlight. "You give amazin' lessons when you're drunk."

Oh, how easy it is.

Dancing beneath the moon, in nothing but your pajamas, held close by the ghost of a cowboy whose soul fits against your own like a puzzle piece. He doesn't know what he's doing, and if he were human, you're sure he'd be stepping on your feet, but he moves in such wonderous tune with your body that it feels like a daydream. His cold forehead rests against yours, ocean eyes peering deep into the deepest crevices of who you are.

You're drifting away from the grass and into the driveway, feet kicking up loose gravel with each and every step. Sweeping past your car, your shoulder narrowly avoids the passenger side mirror. You should be looking where you're going, you're going to drift too close to the porch and fall, but Rhett's gaze is so captivating that you can't bring yourself to look away.

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy?

And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

"You're thinkin' awful hard," the hand that curls around your cheek feels so real, the vague callous of a thumb stroking beneath the corner of your eye.

"Just figuring out how I'm going to pack you up and take you with me," your words are a poorly collected lie; you both know it, but he doesn't call you out on it.

Oh, and he's pushing your noses together with all the boldness of a man who knows what he wants. Your fingers are trying to tangle in his hair, and it's of no use, but you do it anyway, uncaring of how your hands sink through that collection of mist.

"Take me with you, hm?" He's slowing to a stop, the arm around your waist drawing you closer to him. "What happens when y' find someone to settle down with? Y'gonna turn me into the ring bearer at the weddin'?"

"Fortunately," your gaze flickers down his face, and you're so, so sure he's real, "I've already found that someone."

Rhett has no need for oxygen, and yet he sucks in a breath of air anyway, a little reflex remaining even after all this time.

One of you should shut this down right here before it goes too far. But your arms are wrapping around those broad shoulders, precariously balanced upon the thick collection of mist that makes up Rhett Abbott's ghost. The hand on your cheek is dropping to cup your jaw, and the world spins even faster as both of you lean in. His cold breath fans out against your lips, your eyes meet one more time, and...

Kissing him is the only thing you have ever needed.

A heart-stopping boom tears through the silence. Glass shattering in hot pursuit. As your eyes flutter open, the kitchen light goes out.

"What was that?" Your feet are already moving, Rhett's form dissolving into a thin mist, following at your side.

"I don't know," his distant voice rings, "please be careful."

You can hardly heed his warning. Sweeping past the front door, not bothering to take your shoes off, as you head for the kitchen. It's too dark to see, forcing you to fumble for the dining room light that you never use. Your hands graze over the switch, flipping it on, and, and—

The kitchen floor is nearly gone.

Replaced by a deep, cavernous hole that seems to reach deep into the earth. Consumes over half of the floor where your table once sat, reaching from your cabinets to your teetering refrigerator, on the verge of falling in.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to get your spirit to attach to a living person, do you?" You hope Rhett can't pick up on the shake in your tone; there's no way insurance will cover a damn sinkhole.

But your question is met with silence.

"Rhett?" You're turning, and...he's not there. The air is unusually warm, not a speck of mist to be found. "Rhett?" Trying again, louder this time, as you head for the door, because maybe he's outside, maybe he's...

He's not there either. Maybe he's upstairs. Yeah, when he panics, he usually hides out in his old bedroom. He's just upstairs.

The door slams shut.

A second crash follows suit; you don't want to know if that was your refrigerator or if the sinkhole expanded even further.

"Rhett, this isn't funny," shaking the door knob. Locked from the inside. "Rhett, open the door!"

He doesn't.

The windows are all locked down tight. Even the one you intentionally leave unlocked. You find your car keys sitting atop the roof of your car, the paint scratched from where they've been thrown from a distance.

Rhett's chilly presence doesn't visit you when you sleep in the car that night.

He's not there to spook the contractor when he and his crew arrive early in the morning. You don't find him sitting on the couch when they kick the door down, and he's not on your bed when you sneak up the stairs, even after you're warned against going to the second floor. He isn't even there when countless faces enter your home to check out just what is going on in your kitchen.

"I've never seen this before," one of them tells you, her brows furrowed as she looks at her clipboard once more, "but it's not a sinkhole at all."

You don't know if you heard her correctly. "It's not?"

"It's a fifteen-foot hole that must have been dug by a past owner," she pauses to flip through her phone, presenting you with a photo of...just a dirt hole. Nothing special about it in the slightest. "They never refilled it, either; it was only a matter of time before the foundation collapsed into it."

Your mind flickers to your seemingly non-existent ghost. Rhett's never told a lot about his murder, but you know for sure that it happened in the kitchen. "Did you find anything down there?"

That seems to give her pause, ink pen tapping idly against her lips as she rechecks her pages and pages of notes. "Aside from your refrigerator and debris from the collapse...," flicking through another page, "it was completely empty! Nothing to worry about."

Well, at least now you know Rhett's not buried beneath the kitchen floor.

Even worse, his spirit no longer lurks within the paper-thin walls of this century-old farmhouse. You call for him in the fields, disturbing the cattle your neighbor keeps, and you beg for him to be there when you crawl out of bed in the morning. But the house remains warm; the only mist you find is in the fog that settles over your home after it rains, and he doesn't come out to mess with the teen boys employed to carry in bags of dirt, to fill the hole with.

Doesn't even appear when Trevor's F-150, with its irritating color-shifting paint, pulls into the driveway one evening.

"And so there was just a hole under your floor this whole time?" He's sitting in Rhett's favorite spot, cheap beer balanced carelessly between his legs. Has already spilled it once, leaving a stain on your cushion, and you'd tell him off if you weren't hoping it would infuriate Rhett into showing his face.

"The going theory is that one of the past owners dug it," glancing toward the mirror as you speak; still no ghost.

"I bet you more than anything that it's related to that Abbott murder," Trevor says, picking his drink up once more.

Your heart lurches in your chest. "Murder?"

"Did the realtor not tell ya?" Why is he scratching his cheek with the edge of his beer can? "That uh...what's his name? Perry, that's right, got into it with his brother and beat 'em to death in the kitchen."

"They told me someone died, but they never really elaborated," you mutter as he scoots a little closer. "Do you know what the argument was about?"

Trevor's heavy arm slings over your shoulder, drawing you near, musky cologne rudely meeting your nose. This is the same man you've been pursuing for months, so why is it that all of a sudden, your stomach churns at his touch? "Think it was...mmm, I think it was over some broad that went missing a couple of months before. Perry's wife, fiance, or something like that."

The alcohol on his breath has your senses reeling, overwhelmed with a sudden onset of nausea. Rhett didn't have much of a scent, but the little he carried was nothing but leather and honeyed sweetness. Your memory of his touch is brief, can count on one hand the amount of times he wrapped an arm around you, but he never dragged you into his chest like Trevor does.

"I'm sorry," speaking gently, you slide out from under his arm, rising to your feet, "I can't do this."

Trevor's face falls; you already regret speaking up, "what do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, I thought I could, but I just..." shaking your head, eyes landing on the hot pink controller that Rhett once played with, "I can't."

"The fuck do you mean you can't?" He's shooting up from his seat, beer can hitting the floor, the golden liquid splashing across the hardwood.

Your mouth is opening, but you don't get a chance to speak.

"You sure could when you were begging me to stay in this freaky ass house of yours last week!" Roaring, face twinging with red as he tries to close the space between you. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Loud bangings that rattle you so hard the house seems to shake with it. "You put me through all this just to tell me no?"

"I didn't put you through a damn thing!" Your voice echoes through the house, tone fierce, yet your feet timidly take one step back for each one Trevor takes forward. The floor seems to tremble beneath you. An earthquake that only you can feel.

Trevor's quiet at that.

You'd rather if he just yelled.

Because now he's got you creeping backward, and there's only so much space you can back up into. Your voice is caught in your throat. Stifled by something invisible. Mouth opening, but nothing comes out. The light in the kitchen goes out. Glitters of gold flitter past your head like tiny sugar plum fairies.

All of a sudden, Trevor lurches toward you.

Your head smacks against the wall. Jumping away from him.

"You think that little of me," he laughs, incredulous, "you think that fucking little of me?"

"Trevor." Your voice bursts past your lips. Shaky. But there. "Stop."

"Or what, huh?" Spit hits your face. His hand slams next to your head. Breaking through the drywall. "You owe me! I didn't spend all this goddamn time just for you to up and change your little fucking mind!"

"They asked you to stop." That's not your voice.

And it's not Trevor's, either.

Heavy boots thump across the floor. Spurs jingling with every step. Next to your head, a dirt-covered hand takes hold of Trevor's wrist. Muscles flex as it tears Trevor's fist out of the wall. Shoves it into his chest.

Trevor's reddened face has gone stark white. Trips over his own boots as a hulking, dirt-coated figure steps in front of you. Broad shoulders, covered by a vaguely patterned flannel; plaid, it looks like. Dark brown curls rest at his nape, unruly hair flowing freely. Suspiciously similar to...

"Who the fuck is this?" Trevor's still backing up, and this vaguely familiar man eats up every inch of space that's put between them.

"The house ghost." And that's...that's...

Trevor runs for the door before you can finish your thought. Slams it shut behind himself, like it'll keep him from being followed. Truck already rumbling to life. Downright roaring as the vehicle tears out of the driveway, sending gravel clanking against your windows.

But that's not what you're paying attention to.

Truly, you should be concerned about your windows being broken. But all you can do is look towards your kitchen because the light flickers back on. Gives you a momentary glance at a bottomless hole that's returned once more. Leaving behind no trace of the dirt that once filled it. Thin wisps of gold dance through it like an aurora, seemingly alive as they move.

You blink, and it's halfway gone. The edges shrinking inward until the hole is no more. Leaving behind that same freshly packed dirt.

Leaving behind...

"Rhett?"

He jolts at the sound of his name. As if he's surprised you're even speaking to him. Has yet to speak; confirm it's really him, but you already know the answer to that. He turns. Slow. And you can't help but wonder if that really is dirt because it seems to be fading away.

Slow, your hand drifts out from your side, and when your fingers curl around his jaw, you don't know if it's you who sucks in a breath of air or him.

Scruffy. Unshaven face scratching at your soft palm, dirt sticking to your skin as your thumb soothes over a remaining patch stuck to his cheek. Warm. He's warm. And he's hesitantly pushing his head into your hand, and, and—

"Rhett." You say it once more. The only thing you know how to say.

Tears well in those eyes. They're as blue as you ever could have hoped they would be. So, so real, not a shred of translucence to their color. One spills over onto his cheek, rolling until it's caught and wiped away by your thumb.

His arms are moving, hesitant to wrap around you, and you know he's worried about getting dirt on you, but the only thing you care about is stepping into him. Wrapping your trembling arms around that big, warm body of his and feeling him squeeze you into his chest. Where his heart beats heavy, thunking against you with the strength of an ox.

"I don't know how..." he whispers, hot breath tickling your neck, where he's buried his face.

"You're still an ass for locking me out of my own house," you're trying to sound irritated, but it's difficult to feign annoyance when he squeezes you a little tighter.

"Didn't want you bein' sucked in like I was," it's so strange to hear his voice like this, no longer a disembodied sound, "I...it just...kept suckin' me in every time I got out."

You're leaning away, and God, you don't want to leave those strong, trembling arms, but you want to see that face of his even more. The wrinkles beneath his eyes, the wobble of thin, chapped lips as they rise into a meager smile.

The callouses of his fingers drag against the soft skin of your cheek as his big hand settles there. Not the misty, barely there touch you're used to, but just as gentle as it's always been. His nose bumps against yours. Don't know who's leaning in. You shouldn't. You shouldn't do this.

This time, you know for sure that it's you who closes the gap between your bodies. It's you who catches this cowboy's lips in your own, reveling in that surprised gasp of his.

If you thought that kissing his ghost was heaven, then this is something else entirely.

Molding together like you were made just for this, his hand on your cheek and yours delving into his messy hair. Feeling the strength of the arm that curls around your waist and breathing in those faint notes of leather and honey and something warm that you can't quite place.

He pauses for a moment, breaks into a big, dumb smile as you meet his eye once more. And then he leans in to kiss you once more, hands cradling your cheeks, like you're a delicate flower whose petals will fall if he doesn't hold you together. His body shudders with something torn between a giggle and a sob, tears rolling down his cheeks, but he's smiling so much that your teeth clack together.

Your name tumbles off of his lips. Then again and again, like he's trying to memorize the feel of it in his mouth. The way it rolls off his tongue and twists through the air, the sound seeming to kiss your ears when it meets them.

"Rhett," mirroring him, and oh, how he perks at that. Has he always reacted so beautifully to you calling his name?

"Say it again," his nose bumps against yours as he speaks, "Please. Wanna hear you say it again." So eager to hear you that he looks two steps away from a puppy, the tears in his eyes shimmering with wonder as you open your mouth once more.

"Rhett," you whisper, like it's a secret shared on the playground, and then, again, "Rhett."

This time, when your back hits the wall, it's because a bright-eyed cowboy is carefully backing you into it, one hand protecting the back of your head as he dresses his body against yours. Smiling too much to kiss you, can't seem to get over the feeling of your skin against his, the overwhelming reality of whatever this is.

"We probably shouldn't be..." Higher thinking rushes back to your head in a whirlwind, thoughts running wild in the darkest crevices of your mind. What if's and why's and wonderings of how this happened, if it's permanent or temporary. "What if we cross that line, and you go back to being a ghost?"

You don't think you'll ever adjust to the sound of Rhett breathing or the way his eyelashes flutter as he thinks for a moment. He's licking his lips, mouth opening, and, "What if we don't cross that line and spend our whole lives regrettin' it?"

One too many kisses may leave you longing for him for the rest of your life, but one too few may leave you carrying eternal heartache. And that's only if he goes back to being a ghost. But he feels real. When you press your palm to his chest, his warm hand covers it, guiding it to rest over his beating heart. Little thumpings that shouldn't be there, full of life and love and all just for you.

He could have come back to life for anyone. But he came back for you.

To hell with it.

Your bodies collide like galaxies. Blinded by a frantic kiss that promises bruises to your lips. Flecks of gold fall from his body as your hands roam, tugging at a flannel, at his hair, at his hands. Legs tangling because you're moving too quickly, and he's still adjusting to walking rather than floating.

Only break apart long enough to tumble up the stairs; Rhett almost trips over every one of them. Struggling to keep his confidence but boosted along by the kisses you pepper to his reddened cheeks and the gentle tuggings of your hand in his.

Your back hits the bed with all the grace of a newborn fawn, Rhett tumbling right along with you, chuckling into the crook of your neck. Under the dim lighting of your bedroom lamp, it's easy to catch onto the deep bruising that scatters beneath his right eye.

"These are from Perry, aren't they," it's more of an observation than a question, your fingers soothing over the marks as if they can somehow heal them.

Rhett's pressing a kiss to your wrist as it roams past, "Don' wanna think 'bout that son 'f a bitch right now."

You can work with that.

Especially when your bodies squirm further up the bed, his hips settling between your legs, forearms bracing themselves on either side of your head, heaving chests against one another. His lips solid against your own, hungry, urged on by the nails that dig into his shoulders for leverage.

"You'll tell me if I'm goin' too far?" He's speaking into your kiss, unwilling to remove himself any further.

Maybe there's a second ghost in this house because something possesses you to roll your hips up into his. Such a faint pressure, the rough bulge in his jeans rubbing against your soft pajama shorts, but it's so much compared to what used to be. "I will," you're interrupted by his mouth once more, "but I'm sure you'll be the one asking me to stop before the end of the night."

Your hand has a mind of its own, wandering down his chest, flattening out to feel the muscles that ripple along his stomach, hidden from view by his shirt. They flex under your touch, a simple thing that makes your head spin. By some method of madness, that shirt is still tightly tucked into his jeans, the material hard to get ahold of.

Rhett shifts above you, unintentionally moving when you feel for some slack in his shirt, something to get ahold of, and your hand wildly overshoots. Palm splaying out against the front of his jeans instead.

"'m not so sure 'bout that, sweetheart," he groans, a deep, guttural noise escaping him as he reaches down, catches your fleeting hand, and guides you to press against him once more. "I ain't had a dick for the better half of a fuckin' century."

These old jeans are thick, but even so, you can still feel him twitch against your touch. This wasn't what you were aiming for in the slightest, but watching him shiver as you massage over the outline of his bulge is a hell of a sight.

"Sensitive," you're only lightly teasing; any more words and you'll be fumbling with his belt buckle.

"You're one to talk," he mutters, head dropping to press his lips to the meet of your jaw, teeth tugging the skin there.

You think your eyes may pop out of your head. "I thought you promised to stay out of my bedroom when I didn't invite you in."

"Wasn't in the bedroom, baby," he's chuckling, breath tickling your ear as he works his way towards it, "When you're a ghost, you hear everythin'."

Then he's leaning back, leaves you feeling cold as he fumbles with his jeans, boots hitting the floor with two solid thunks. An involuntary whine works its way out of you, reaching aimlessly for him.

"Don't wanna get y'all dirty, sweetheart," he soothes, catching your hand and pressing kisses to your knuckles. Pops open his belt buckle with a pinch of his fingers, and soon those dirty jeans are sliding off, revealing milky white thighs, mottled with bright spots of red and deep purples, a badly bruised knee to match.

...as well as a pair of boxers patterned with bright red hearts.

"Y'ain't gonna believe me," Rhett's staring down at them too, teeth worrying his bottom lip, "but I have no fuckin' memory of wearin' these." The tips of his ears have gone bright red. Another quirk hidden until now.

"We'll get them off soon enough, I'm sure," you say, leaning up to let him peel your shirt over your head.

As soon as it's out of sight, Rhett's lips return to your neck, one wandering hand soothing up your side, not stopping until it reaches your breast. Does nothing more than feel you in his hand, sucking at a soft spot beneath your ear that has you fighting the urge to close your eyes.

Your hands wander, one wrapping around a surprisingly muscled bicep while the other delves between your bodies once more. Feeling down his sturdy chest, past his stomach, and not stopping until you can take hold of him through his boxers.

"Fuck," his body jolts, "'re you sure 'm not dreamin'?"

"I thought ghosts didn't sleep?" You're parroting something you so clearly recall him mentioning in the past, can't place the memory yet. Don't really care to, either. The only thing on your mind is the way your fingers wander past his waistband, wrapping around his cock that jumps at your touch.

He's thicker than you imagined he'd be.

Moans prettier, too, for that matter. A little bit breathy and so Rhett.

"Hands of yours are so fuckin' small," he's muttering in between kisses as he works his way back to your lips. Can't kiss you because a jolted grunt interrupts him, a symphony of sounds as you slowly stroke him. Oversensitive, the first touch he's felt in decades.

His hair drops into his face, acts as a curtain when you look down to where your hand is working him. Can hardly see what you're doing, but you do catch a glimpse of precum beading at his flushed tip, hearing his gasp when your thumb swipes over it.

"Y'need to stop that," he huffs, voice nothing but air, "gonna...fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep..." And despite asking you to stop, he grumbles when you let go of him.

Hands now free, you reach for your shorts, not sure why you feel so shy when he helps you tug them down your legs; it's not like he hasn't seen you naked before. From you forgetting he's there to him accidentally floating into the shower while you were using it.

But these eyes are not the translucent ones you're used to, with their expression hidden by deviations in his mist. No, these eyes darken as they drink up the sight of you, every little thought in his head spoken through his gaze. But even as he kicks his boxers off, shirt going right along with it, you can't help but feel like hiding under the sheets.

"'ve I ever told you that you're beautiful?" His voice breaks the silence, stroking the inside of your knee as he speaks.

You don't have words for that.

He doesn't need them.

You really don't have words for when he takes hold of your wrist, guiding it up and taking two of your fingers into his mouth. Tongue carefully swirling around each of them, soaking them with a content hum. Your eyebrows furrow, to which he raises his other hand. Dirt beneath his nails and caught in the wrinkles of his hand.

Ah.

Reluctantly, you pull your fingers from his warm mouth, and you're pleasantly surprised to find that there's hardly any resistance when you press them inside. Open and already wet, helped along by a moment of fun you'd had in the morning, hoping a familiar ghost may come to help you along.

"How did you know I kept my lube in the bottom drawer?" You can't help but ask, watching as he fishes around for it.

The tips of his ears are red again. "I learned the hard way not to float through bedside tables."

He's the one who uncaps the container, but it's you who reaches out for him to pour it into your palm. Not because you're concerned with dirt but because you want to feel him in your hand again. Twitching when you take hold of him, a thick vein running along the side of his length. He has to stifle a noise with each stroke, squeezing your knee all the while.

"You're sure you're ready for me?" He asks when you urge him closer.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, cowboy," fighting back a noise as you guide him down, letting him push between your folds, some lazy, teasing thing that has his plush head dragging past your clit. Sensitive, almost has you considering making him fuck you like this instead.

But he's catching against your entrance, and you've daydreamed about this man too many times to pass up the opportunity.

That tentative, forward tilt of his hips is enough to make your head spin. Pressure blooming as he pushes into you, careful, like you'll shatter into a million pieces if he's too quick.

"Rhett," you whisper, don't quite know why.

"'m here," he's coming back down, nose pressing against yours in his own little way of reassurance, "I've got you."

Your earlier rendezvous didn't end well for you, but you're so thankful for it in hindsight because his cock stretches you wide. Blunt head dragging against your walls, massaging past the bundle of nerves you couldn't seem to find with a toy, your thighs squeezing his pale hips.

"So tight for me," he pauses about midway, or what you think is midway, at least, "you're sure 'm not hurtin' you?"

Your head spins, loose on your shoulders, "I'm okay."

With a noise of his own, Rhett starts to move again, draws back a little before pushing further, and you can't help but wonder if he's holding his breath. Your nails bite into his shoulders, hanging on as he finally bottoms out, now flush against you. His mouth moves, but he can't speak. Only capable of releasing a shaky breath, lazily catching your lips in his.

He doesn't need to be asked to move, catching on the moment you grind yourself against him. Withdrawing slow, shallow, before pushing back in, and you're so, so full. Clinging to his shoulders to stay in place, feeling like you'll float away when he brushes against those nerves again.

Fuck, he's just begun to move, and you're already biting your lip. Don't know how you're going to keep yourself quiet because he massages past that little spot every time he moves, never lets it alone.

His thumb pulls your lip out from between your teeth, "Let me hear you, darlin'."

His words alone have your cunt fluttering around him, and you're leaning into the palm that cups your cheek, mouth falling open. "Rhett, fuck."

You don't think you need to reach down between your bodies, but you do anyway, fingers pressing to your long-neglected clit. Working in tandem with Rhett's quickening hips, jolting as his angle shifts.

"There?" He says as if he hasn't already found that damned spot. All you can manage is a nod, a whimpered 'uhuh' escaping you.

And he's doubling down, cock head kissing that oversensitive spot again and again. Grins wickedly when you shudder beneath him, nails dragging down his pale shoulders, panting into his mouth.

"Fuck, this sweet lil' pussy of yours feels so good 'round me," he groans, thrusts becoming harder now that he's remembered the ropes. Heavy balls smacking against you, and you really hope there aren't any more house ghosts who can hear the sinful sounds whistling through the air. "'s this what you've been needin', hm?

"Rhett," you don't know how to speak, his name tumbling off your tongue.

"Bringin' home all those dates that could never make you cum," his voice dropping an octave deeper, damn near growling, but the softness in his eyes suggest he wouldn't hurt a fly. "Wouldn't have terrorized 'em if they woulda treated you better."

That's why he chased them all off? God, how many times did you bring someone home, thinking he was gone? And how many times has he daydreamed about having you beneath him, whimpering his name as he fucks you nice and proper.

You should be mad, but you can't. Not when you're falling apart at the seams, hand sliding from his shoulders, barely clinging to his bicep. Bounced by every heavy thrust, can't keep your fingers on your pulsing clit, tightening around him as something warm blossoms between your legs.

And he must be able to feel it because his eyes flicker into the back of his head, if only for a moment. "You gonna cum on my cock for me, sweetheart?"

This is new. Fuck, this is so, so new and so much. No longer able to keep your eyes open, tongue lazy in your mouth, words long forgotten as you try to nod your head. Mind clouded with thoughts of Rhett, Rhett, Rhett.

"Shit, y'got me so damn close, baby," he rasps, hair tickling your cheek as he presses kisses there, "You want me to cum on those cute thighs of yours? Or your sweet little tummy?"

You don't have the answer to that question. Distracted by the crumbling of his rhythm, thrusts growing shaky, in perfect tune with the tightening coil in your lower belly. Almost there. Almost there.

He's still talking. "Or would you rather I cum nice 'n deep in this pretty pussy of yours," you regret opening your eyes. All you see is the sweat beading at his forehead and strong hips working you over. Fat cock disappearing into your wet pussy, elicits a dizzying squelch every time. "Pump you nice 'n full of me, just so you'll need me to fuck it out of ya in the mornin'."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where's your voice? Where's your voice? "I-inside."

Rhett's breathy "yeah?" is all you fucking need. Your back rises up off the mattress, head tilting back with a silent cry as you cum around his cock.

"There you go," Each pump of his length into you only sends your head higher up into the stratosphere. Whimpering, clamping down around him as a shudder washes over you. "Feel so good when you're clampin' 'round me like that."

And he's still fucking going. Fucking you through it, beating against that bundle of nerves even when you begin to tremble, after-shocks still tearing through you.

"Hang on for me, baby," his eyes are bolted shut, chasing his high, biceps shaking, so, so close.

"Please, Rhett," you whisper, your hand soothing over his hardened face. Those deep blues flutter open, softening at the sight of you, like he's just seen an angel "Cum for me."

A whimper tumbles past his lips, a second one follows suit, and then those eyes are closing once more, hips stuttering to a halt as his orgasm hits him. Tiny noises escaping his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck, the familiar tune of your name tumbling off his sweet tongue. Filling you with his cum, making good on his promise, jolting as you involuntarily pulse around him.

For a while, the air is silent.

Until Rhett lifts his head and kisses up your sensitive neck, sending you into a fit of giggles. "C'n we take a bath t'gether?" He murmurs, seemingly shy, unable to meet your eye.

"So long as you agree to bubbles, baby." Baby. You don't think you've ever called him that.

You can't wait to do it again.

For decades, the folks of Wabang, Wyoming, have whispered the tale of two brothers. Gossiping about a murder they presumed to have taken place, for they knew that Perry Abbott was a violent man, and it was only a matter of time before his little brother became the next punching bag.

Never have they whispered about the hole that opened beneath the kitchen floor, swallowing Rhett's near-lifeless body up, escorting him to an unknown safety while leaving his lonely spirit behind. They don't know of the decades he spent forced into an unnatural slumber, only to be awoken by another lonely soul with a heart made of the same glass as his own.

Nobody giggles about how a human scared a ghost or chatters about the adventures they've shared in that century-old farmhouse. They do not know of the arguments, and the boyfriends lost because a ghost wanted the best for his friend, appearing in mirrors and whispering their deepest insecurities into their ears. Worse, they don't roll their eyes over the many tales of him banging a cast iron skillet on the tile just to see them run.

But you do.

Only you know of how Rhett smiles, big and dopey, as you take him into town for the first time in decades. You are the only person who gets to explain what self-driving cars are and roll your eyes as some new thing scares him into jumping behind you. Nobody else gets to take him on a road trip, watch him fight with a GPS for the first time, and introduce him to the ocean and the concept of crabs.

"Why are they shaped like that?" Rhett's stumbling after you; not sure if he likes or hates this little creature, only knows that he wants to follow you. "Why is he following me?"

You wish you could see the little bugger, but it's so dark that you can hardly tell where you're going. The only light you have is a dull light in the parking lot and the silver moon hanging high above your head.

"Probably because you've pissed him off," you laugh, holding your hand out when he reaches for it, "are you going to survive two more nights this close to the beach, or do I need to take you back to the pasture?"

He hums, loud and dramatic as he can manage, scratches his freshly shaved chin for added effect, "I suppose I'll survive, but if that crab kills me, I'm comin' back as a ghost and suin'."

From the moment your feet are on the cool concrete of the parking lot, Rhett's spinning you around. It's still the only thing he knows how to do, and his feet tangle with yours a little more than they should, but oh, is it as magical as that night in your driveway.

"'ve I ever told you that I love you?" He smiles as he speaks; knows he says this every time you wind up dancing beneath the moon.

"Never," feigning surprise, as he pulls you in close, noses bumping together, "but I love you more."

And then you're running. Squealing as Rhett sets hot on your trail. He'll catch you before you so much as reach the hotel doors, trap you in his arms, and insist that no, he loves you more, punctuating every word with a wet, sloppy kiss. And you're so excited for it that you think you may let him catch you early.

Perry took away a lifetime from Rhett.

You're more than happy to give him a life worth waiting centuries for.

Even if he does still refer to himself as the house ghost.

#rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #oneshot #rhett abbott outer range #outer range fic #outer range #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #reader self insert #self insert #reader insert #x reader #afab reader #ghost au #ghost! rhett abbott

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bbobpul · 8 months

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break my heart again 2 — njm

PAIRING. na jaemin x reader SUMMARY.how's jaemin gonna give back for all of y/n's efforts now that he finally can? it's been years—just how much has everything changed? GENRE. angst, fluff, she fell first 🤭 W/C. 3.5k NOTE. hello, part two is here! so sorry i couldn't make a taglist. i didn't have time to make one. nevertheless, i hope this fic make its way back to you. love u all and thankies sm !!!! also, my requests are open !!!

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→ my other works !!!!!! part one here!!

i find it hard to picture myself ever being as dedicated to something or someone again, just like how i dedicated my entire college life to na jaemin.

lately, i've been feeling like i forgot what it's like to actually have a dream. back then, na jaemin was my dream, he was my driving force. i would force myself to wake up so early in the morning just so i could see him (or his car) enter the gates of the university. i would go to school even though i am sick and feel a lot better when i get home because i saw na jaemin. but now two years after graduating, i still haven't found a decent job that i actually enjoy.

it's a common experience that many people go through, and i suppose i shouldn't complain about it. maybe i need to put in more effort and push myself harder. part of me wonders if having na jaemin back in my life would rekindle that same sense of dedication that i once had. but as i say these thoughts out loud, they sound absurd, even to myself. why would i wish for my first love to return just so i could find a decent job? why would i long for na jaemin to come back merely to feel that spark in my life again? it's puzzling why i'm even dwelling on thoughts of him and wondering if he holds the key to my happiness and success.

oh, to dream.

oh, for that old dedication to still burn within you.

if only you hadn't acted so dumb that day. could life have taken a different path? are you even happy now? if you hadn't let fear hold you back back then, if you'd actually been brave enough to listen and follow through, would you be happier today?

but no matter how much you keep bothering yourself with that memory, if people come up to you and ask if you feel bad about everything that happened that day, you'd say no. you don't feel bad at all.

deciding to let him go was one of the best things you did. he seemed happy when you left, and after that, you never heard anything about him. he's like a touchy subject in your group of friends, which can be tough sometimes since you share friends. but does it really matter now? him not being in your life probably means he's happier and more peaceful, right?

are you feeling peaceful? is being stuck in a 9-5 job that hardly brought you joy a happy situation? scratch that. did being in that job make you happy? clearly not, as you've just mustered the bravery to quit. and in doing so, you've never felt more joyful.

did you really make the right decision?

just as you were pondering your own question, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. you grabbed it and saw that the caller was renjun, your incredibly patient best friend.

"y/n," he said, his tone becoming unusually serious. "what's up?" you asked. "do you need money?" "yeah?" "here's the deal: our college is putting together a documentary film, and they've chosen your department. but guess what? your old classmates are bombarding me with messages because it looks like you're ignoring them all. frankly, i can't believe you even answered my call," he griped. "wait, hold on. what film? and why would they pick me? are they searching for someone with a post-college life so sad that it belongs in a documentary?" "well, you were practically a legend back in college, so… and apparently, the director specifically wants you, which leads to… well, another issue…" "what's the problem now?" "it's going to be directed by jaemin."

and just like that, you ended the call. but a few seconds later, renjun's call came in again.

"i'm not going to do it." "you stubborn brat." "why him?" "i have no idea!" "why is he even directing? wasn't he studying architecture or something?" "i don't know, y/n. i haven't heard a single thing about him since your graduation." "what do you mean?" "that's not important now, y/n. you're in need of money, right? seize the opportunity. do it for the cash." “so will you do it or will you do it?” “for the cash.”

...

"y/n, you've moved on, haven't you? what's done is done. i'm pretty sure jaemin has forgotten all about it. this chance is coming your way, so just accept it." "i guess i will."

you're drawn in by the idea of making some extra money and the possibility of catching the eye of potential agents or employers. right now, you're at a crossroads, thinking about how this documentary could be a stepping stone to more job opportunities down the line. this situation is different from what usually drives you – this time, it's not about others, it's about focusing on your own goals and aspirations.

you're deliberately avoiding dwelling on your past. just as renjun mentioned, you've moved beyond it. what's done is done. right now, your focus is firmly on the present and the potential that lies ahead in the future.

what's in the past is behind us, including whatever existed between jaemin and you.

from renjun

tomorrow at lunchtime, they'll be going over the schedules and discussing what to film. if you want, you can chat with the director now. his number is 0825 813 2000.

in response, you simply replied with a "okay."

the night before the lunch meeting, a jumble of emotions has you in its grip. the idea of reconnecting with jaemin, who used to be your best friend and is now someone distant, fills you with a sense of awkwardness. you tell yourself that this is about working together and the chance to grow professionally.

after taking a deep breath, you decide to shoot jaemin a text. your fingers hesitate as you type, and the uncertainty you're feeling seems to seep into your message. you finally press send, and your text reads, "hey, it's y/n. heard we're meeting tomorrow for the documentary. just wanted to check in before that."

in almost no time, your phone buzzes with a response: "hey y/n, good to hear from you. yeah, looking forward to our meeting. let's catch up and chat about the project."

the conversation is polite, but beneath the surface, there's an unspoken layer of complexity. you can feel the hesitation in your exchange, a silent recognition of the shared history that's now a distant memory. as you talk about the meeting and the documentary, the easy flow you once had is noticeably absent.

as the texts go back and forth, a sense of tension seems to hang in the air. it's as though the years of friendship you once had are casting a shadow over your conversation. the effortless connection you once shared now requires effort, and both of you can sense the change.

as the conversation wraps up with a simple "see you tomorrow," you're left with a mix of excitement and anxiety. the idea of seeing jaemin again, especially in a professional context, stirs up a range of emotions. this situation is a stark reminder of just how much things have changed – and maybe how some things can't go back to the way they were.

you believed the conversation had concluded, only for your phone to ring once more, bearing yet another message from him. as you read the words on the screen, "i missed you, y/n," a rush of emotions floods over you.

"what's going on with him?" you mutter to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. your gaze remains fixed on the message for a moment, your attention drawn to the three blinking dots in the corner – a sign that he's in the process of typing a response. several more seconds tick by, the dots eventually vanishing, and in response, you shut your phone off. you make an attempt to settle into bed and get some rest, but truth be told, it's hard to claim you managed to sleep soundly that night. an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions keeps your mind restless.

the day of lunch lunch finally arrived. you sat across from jaemin, his words forming a distant hum as your thoughts remained clouded and preoccupied. the lingering impact of his recent message kept you in a state of unease, making it difficult to fully engage in the conversation he was leading.

then, something inside you snapped, and you found yourself abruptly interrupting him with a question that had been gnawing at you, "why me?"

he looked at you, his gaze steady, and his response was quick, "why not you?"

your frustration simmered as his words hit you. he was choosing to be cryptic, and it was only adding to your confusion. pushing past your exasperation, you pressed on, "listen, i know we didn't part on the best terms, but why come back now and act like everything's fine? i mean, sure, it's better than hostility, but why choose me? i'm the one who's no longer part of your life."

his expression remained neutral, void of any emotions as he replied, "that's not true."

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to elaborate. "what's not true?"

"that you have nothing to do with my life, y/n," he stated firmly.

the weight of his words settled heavily between you two, the gravity of the situation growing more apparent. the lunch table had transformed into an arena for confronting unresolved issues.

you scoffed, unable to hold back your disbelief. "jaemin, i made one mistake, and now you're trying to imply that my actions shaped your entire life?"

his eyes held yours, unwavering. "y/n, it's not just about that one mistake. everything that followed, everything that shaped who i am today… it's all connected to you."

your mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was suggesting. the complexities of your shared history seemed to crash over you, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and a tangled web of unspoken feelings.

the weight of his words left you momentarily speechless, and in an attempt to shift away from the intensity, you sought to change the subject. "where are the other producers? why is it just you here?"

"y/n…" he began, his tone suggesting he wanted to continue the previous conversation.

however, you opted to sidestep the discussion entirely. you pretended as if the profound exchange hadn't just occurred. "i notice you're taking on the role of a director now. quite the career shift, huh?" you inquired, masking your internal turmoil with a casual demeanor. you acted as if there hadn't been a two-year gap in your connection, as though things between you were perfectly ordinary.

he met your gaze, a faint hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "i pursued another dream when i felt i'd lost the chance for my first one."

"your first dream… not architecture, then?" you prodded, curious about the direction he had taken.

he shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him, leaving you puzzled yet again. "no, not architecture. well, i suppose that just wasn't meant for me back then, but maybe it is now."

the cryptic nature of his response only added to the layers of confusion and intrigue that surrounded him. there was something about the way he spoke that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface, emotions and experiences that he hadn't fully revealed. you found yourself torn between the desire to push for answers and the instinct to allow him his privacy. the lunch meeting had transformed into a stage for untangling not just the complexities of the documentary but also the intricate web of emotions and history between you and jaemin.

leaving the restaurant, a whirlwind of unanswered questions dances in your mind. yet, for now, you choose to tuck those thoughts away, focusing instead on the looming filming date just a few days away – next saturday.

in the span of time between that lunch and the upcoming shoot, jaemin proves consistent in his attempts to bridge the gap between you two. he regularly reaches out, updating you about his day and proposing get-togethers, which you consistently decline.

the days pass, marked by a series of messages and missed opportunities. despite the undeniable tension, there's an undeniable persistence on jaemin's part, a determined effort to reconnect and reestablish a sense of familiarity. however, your apprehensions and the memories of your past dynamics hold you back, keeping you from embracing his overtures.

as the countdown to the filming day continues, you find yourself in a delicate dance – balancing the unresolved history between you and the prospects of the future. the lines between your personal and professional lives are blurred, and the documentary project becomes a backdrop against which the intricacies of your relationship with jaemin play out.

you find yourself constantly pondering what his intentions could be. his actions leave you wondering, and you can't help but question what he's aiming for. in your perspective, you're merely a negative aspect of his life – a streak of misfortune. you would have expected him to have learned from the past, but his determination remains unshakeable.

as you contemplate these thoughts, your phone lights up once more, bearing yet another message from him. his name on the screen triggers a whirlwind of emotions – a mixture of uncertainty, annoyance, and a hint of curiosity. opening the message, you brace yourself for whatever he might convey this time. the consistency in his attempts at communication only serves to deepen the intricate web of emotions you hold for him, leaving you caught between your shared history and the unpredictability of the present.

"the offer's still there, y/n. :)" "jaemin, let's be real. just because i'm on board with your documentary idea doesn't mean we're suddenly best buds again. a lot has changed." "i want to reconnect, though." "actually, scratch that. i want to get to know you all over again." "jaemin, i appreciate the effort, but let's keep things professional, okay?" “i’m sorry, y/n. goodnight.”

after your straightforward message, his responses ceased. a silence settled in, stretching on until saturday – the day you were set to see him again. the anticipation and uncertainty had been building, and now the moment was finally at hand.

you stepped into the studio and immediately noticed that you and jaemin were the only ones present. your confusion must have been evident on your face, prompting him to address the situation promptly.

"um, the team thought having fewer people in the room would create a more personal atmosphere," he began, his voice carrying a hint of unease. "and, well, they decided to keep me here, you know, being the director and all, and also because we have a history…"

his words trailed off, and there was a subtle vulnerability in his tone. it was as if he was acknowledging the intricacies of your past connection, while simultaneously recognizing the complexities it introduced into your current dynamic. the studio, usually a place of creativity and collaboration, had transformed into a space laden with the weight of your shared history.

"it's okay," you responded, your words carrying a touch of reassurance. as your reply registered, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips – a detail you couldn't help but notice. after all, it was that very smile that had ignited four years of your life, a smile that held memories and emotions you had both shared.

"um, i'll just ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that didn't escape your notice. this new facet of his demeanor felt unfamiliar to you, a departure from the confident jaemin you had known.

you found yourself disliking this uneasiness, and a thought occurred to you – maybe it was time to rekindle something within him. as he began asking you questions, you decided to respond in a way that would evoke a certain familiarity between you two. it was a subtle attempt to bridge the gap, to draw out the person you once knew.

you had believed that his silence was what you wanted. you had convinced yourself that distancing yourself from him would protect you from the past mistakes. but now, facing the reality of the situation, you realized that perhaps a certain selfishness was ingrained within you. maybe, just maybe, you yearned to erase the distance, to defy your own rationalizations.

in this moment, you found yourself yearning to rekindle what had been lost, to bring back a connection that once meant so much. the conflicting emotions within you painted a complex picture of your desires – a battle between self-preservation and the longing for something more.

however, as you locked eyes with him and saw the lack of any discernible emotion in his gaze, a haunting wave of fear resurfaced within you. in that moment, it was as if time rewound, taking you back to the day of your graduation when your heart and spirit had felt shattered. the memory of that painful experience rushed back, accompanied by the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you.

if you were to truly confront your own feelings, you'd admit that what you witnessed that night had left you questioning your own worth. the events had stirred up doubts about whether you had ever been deserving of taking risks for, whether you had ever been someone worth fighting for.

"hey, good morning, y/n."

"morning, director."

"how's today treating you?"

"pretty good, thanks."

"hmm, and what's life been like after college?"

"…"

"take your time."

"at first, i felt okay. my friends were all getting closer to their dreams, and i was genuinely happy for them. especially…"

"especially who?"

"especially the person i left behind."

"…"

"i was content being happy for someone else. then another year went by, and i wasn't feeling so great anymore."

"do you really think they're happy?"

"hmm?"

"the person you left behind."

"yeah. and my other friends seem happy too. they've got jobs they love, they're with people they care about, and i only had… renjun *laughs* … but sometimes, i can't help but feel like i'm the one who got left behind, you know? even though i was the one who walked away."

"let's talk about your person."

"oh *laughs* he's not my person."

pausing for a moment, you glanced at jaemin behind the camera. the question lingered in your mind: what was he trying to do? his actions and intentions remained a puzzle.

his expression grew serious, his gaze fixed intently on you. it was as if he had something to convey, something he was holding back.

"the last time i actually saw him was in an instagram post. he was with some girl. it happened on my graduation day. i waited the whole day, hoping he'd appear in the midst of the crowd. when he didn't, i held onto the possibility of seeing him by the gates. but that didn't happen either. my last hope was maybe he'd send me a single message, but by the end of the day, nothing came. then i went on instagram and saw a photo – a warning, i guess. a warning that i should just stop hoping. that… happened a few weeks later, i think. or maybe it was just a few days after our argument, the one where he told me he couldn't love… yeah."

you met his gaze and once again, his face was serious. his eyes were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. a few moments passed, and he let out a shaky breath. screw it, you thought, it's out there now and i don't care anymore.

your silent exchange was interrupted as he shifted the camera away. confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him move. he turned back to you, his expression still serious, and then he grabbed a chair from the nearby table. he sat down with his back facing you.

the room felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving you to question his intentions and actions. it was as if he was peeling away layers, searching for something beneath the surface.

"did you know that…" he began, his voice breaking the silence. "she was his sister?"

"i never told you about her, that's on me," he admitted with a chuckle. "that was her last day, y/n. so i decided to spend the entire day with her. i'm sorry."

you were taken aback. "i'm sorry–"

"it's okay, y/n."

"i know i left you with so many questions that night, but let me tell you… every effort you made, every cookie you baked, i cherished all of it. i loved you. i'm sorry if my actions made you doubt yourself."

another pause filled the air.

"i left when you left."

"you were my dream. architecture wasn't really my passion, you know? i was struggling a lot, but luckily, you were there with me. i decided to chase after what i truly loved when you left, because i realized if i wanted you back in my life, it should be when i'm at my best, right? i wasn't lying when i said i couldn't love. i didn't want to love you when i was broken. i wanted to be the best version of myself for you. i thought that if i wanted you to be with the best person, then that should be me. so i became that person, a director, and then i planned all of this." his eyes finally met yours.

"i was always looking at you."

tears welled up in your eyes, and he seemed to notice. he took a step towards you and enveloped you in his arms.

"i'm sorry for not holding onto you back then, baby. but i promise, i won't let go of you now," he whispered.

"i'm sorry for leaving, jaemin," you sobbed.

"shh, you did what you thought was right."

"do you want to have lunch with me now?" he asked.

a mixture of emotions flooded your heart, and with a nod, you replied, "yes, jaemin."