#i know if i stay home and take a gap year the pressure to keep up with everything is going to be so insane i wont be able to do it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shayyprasad · 4 months

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prom and the public | tom holland

reader is 20-21?? tom is 25-26?? don't hate 5 years isn't even that bad (y are age gaps kinda hot tho [not like 13 and 68 {because that's weird}] yk what i mean?????) 2.6k words+

def one of the longer ones

send in requestssss pleaseeeee

tw: mentions of sex, batman tom

you sat in a seat as your professor went off about something, trying not to fall asleep. he sounded so passionate about it. and the things is, if he were talking about actual academics, like you major (biotechnology) then of course you'd pay attention, as that was your interest.

but no.

he was off about his ex-girlfriend, trying to convince his class, and quite evidently himself, that it wasn't his fault samantha left him. you felt slightly bad for the man, because it really seemed like he was about to have a mental breakdown.

he'd been like this for the last couple of classes, and it was driving you beyond insane. he hadn't been making any progress with his love life, and you hadn't been making any progress with your life and to-be career.

so all in all, it was a lose-lose. but after watching him like this, you decided you were glad to not have a non-existent love life.

not that anyone knew you had a love life.

because as of now, you hadn't gone public with tom. it's not that you weren't serious with him or anything, it just never needed to happen. you never needed to go public, so it never happened.

the older man cleared his throat and blinked rapidly, checking the time on his watch. "well, just a couple minutes until this class ends. i must thank you all," he placed a hand on his heart, "for being here to listen."

not like we had a choice.

"anyways," he nodded as he picked up a stack of paper and handed it to the girl in the first row, "here, just take one and pass it down. as you all know, prom is soon, and the faculty just finalized the date, which is 3 weeks and 5 days from now. bring a date, and don't end up like me, all sad and lonely."

"don't be pathetic, basically," a boy in the 3rd row called out, causing some others around him to laugh.

as soon as you got the paper, you skimmed over the details, then flipped it over, sinking down in your seat.

"yeah," your professor sighed, "basically." and after a moment, "well, out you go. out, out!" he shooed everyone away and you felt relief take over, glad to be out of that hell-hole. since that was your last class of the day, you'd get to go home now. to tommy.

it had been only a couple months since you'd moved with him, and you had absolutely no regrets. the entire thing only had you feel closer to him, and as tom worked, you finished up college.

at first, you weren't sure. you felt bad getting to live off his money like that as he paid for everything, and you wanted to contribute. he'd assured you that it wasn't needed and that he had more than enough money to keep the two of you going. so you quit the job you had at the old cafe, moving out of your tiny, smelly dorm, and in with him.

and it was probably one of the best choices you'd ever made.

you unlocked the car and tossed your things in the passengers seat, starting your drive home.

you weren't planning on going to the prom, because everyone who was going had dates, and you couldn't take another boy because you were literally dating tom (not that it was a bad thing, because it most certainly was not), and you couldn't take him either. you knew he'd feel bad if you told him, and you didn't want to pressure him into going public.

you were totally cool with the "independent woman" thing, because woman slay, but it was different at college. or at your college.

date = cool.

no date = not cool.

so you just planned to stay home for that night at binge-watch disney movies with your boyfriend. it was a well thought out plan, you decided.

when you got home, you parked the car in the driveway (which was massive like the rest of the house, because marvel, duh) and swung the backpack over your shoulder. you went up to the bedroom first, dropping the backpack, stuffing the paper in the side table's drawer, and changing into something comfier. you were too lazy to take off the makeup, so you just let it be.

you finished up your homework so that when tommy came back, you'd be able to spend time with him. after that, you started dinner and turned on a tv show, merely to entertain yourself. soon enough, you heard keys jangling and the door unlocked.

"hey, love, i'm back! where are you?"

"i'm in the living room, babes," you called back, smiling as you saw him approach you, taking a seat on the couch beside you. "how was your day?"

"it was okay," tom responded, leaning into you. "yours?"

"okay, too. nothing much interesting happened. stupid biotech teacher won't do his job and teach me. kinda feel bad for him, though. poor guy."

"with how smart you are, y/n, you could get off teaching him."

"thanks, baby, but i'm really not as smart as you think i am," you laughed.

"nuh-uh. you are. biotech isn't easy. you have to be, like, smart and stuff."

"i'm glad you think i'm 'smart and stuff,' tom."

"no! i'm being for real!" he grinned, tickling your side and making you squirm and laugh. you swatted him, screaming for him to stop.

"tommy! babe! s-stop, that- that tickles!"

"not until you admit my girlfriend's smart!" he retorted.

"okay! okay, fine! sh-she's smart, now stop!" you squealed between fits of giggles.

"alright. i'll stop now," tommy smirked, pulling you into him. "i love you," he murmured.

"yeah? well, guess what? i think i might just love you, too. so you're in luck."

he rose an eyebrow, raising his arms to tickle you again, "you think, y/n? you think?"

"no. no! i do! no more tickling!"

"hmm, okay." he paused, "love?"

"huh?"

"i'm really glad you moved in with me."

you looked up to him and smiled, "i'm glad i moved in, too," pulling him in for a soft kiss.

soon enough, three weeks passed, and there were only a couple days until prom. you didn't tell tom, so he still didn't know. you'd just gotten back from an extra class for your major, it had been optional, but you went anyways. it was saturday and tom didn't have work.

you walked into the kitchen and saw him sitting on a chair, hands crossed folded on top of the table.

"well, well, well, l/n. you've arrived."

you raised your brows and stifled a laugh.

"...okay? what- what're you doing?"

"is there anything you'd like to tell me?" he asked, dropping his voice down an octave.

you tilted your head to the side, equal parts amused and uncertain. "no?"

"i see. well, i was cleaning up today, and i came across something you might find interesting."

"god, thomas, you sound like my mom when i was 15 and she found the condoms that i bought at the convenience store and hid."

"you were having sex at 15?" he asked, breaking character.

"no," you replied, pouring yourself a glass of water, "16, though that's not relevent at the moment. and before you ask, no, it was not good. now go on."

he cleared his throat again, sliding a paper across the table, and narrowed his eyes at you.

you sighed, "oh, jeez, is this-"

"yes."

"why?"

"why not? prom is the best!"

"that's not what you say when you have random girls dm-ing you to take them."

"well, you aren't a random girl. not really, given that we share a bedroom and have se-"

"okay, yes, i get it. and it's not a biggie," you paused to take a sip of water.

"of course it is! it's prom, babe! you went in high school, didn't you?"

you hesitated, "well, yes. but- but this is different."

"ooh! i can take you dress shopping! oh, wait-"

"tommy, love, we haven't gone public."

"right. wait, how's it different?"

you blushed. the concept of actually explaining the concept was much different. "um, well, you see- gosh, okay..." you pressed you lips, settling on, "you're too old to understand." (he wasn't old, just a bit older than you, hence the inside joke.)

"nope. won't work."

"ugh. don't laugh, 'kay?"

"i won't. promise."

"i don't have a date," you explained. "but, but that doesn't mean you have to go with me, because i'm not trying to guilt trip you or anything, because that's wrong. i'm just saying, well, okay, it's a little harder to explain. uh, not actually, now that i think about it, it's silly, but my friends have dates, and i just don't wanna third-wheel both of them. fifth-wheel, i guess. you know, since there's two. look what i'm trying to say-"

"you're rambling," he laughed.

"i kn-"

"and i get it, y/n, but if you want i'll go with you."

"but-"

"yes, i know we're not public. but what better way is there to announce us?"

"so-"

"yeah, i'm okay with it. it's not going to affect me as much as it will you, because you'll be the new one, you know? spider-man's girlfriend this, spider-man's girlfriend that."

"oka-"

"so, really, it's up to you. i'm okay with anything."

"christ, tom! i swear, if you interrupt me one more-"

"sorry, love," his eyes widened as soon as he said it, and he covered his mouth with his hand.

"oh. my. god. i'm okay with it, tom, i've always been. i just- i wasn't sure if that's what you wanted."

"of course i did, y/n. you really think i don't want to show the whole world that you're all mine?because you are. you're it for me."

you grinned, "really?"

"really."

"you're it for me, too."

"so it's final, then?" tom checked.

"yep. so... when can we go shopping?" you asked innocently.

he rolled his eyes playfully, "i suppose we can go now, if you want."

"yes!" you squealed, maybe a bit too quickly.

so that's what the two of you did. you hopped in the car and he took you to a nice (and expensive, but you didn't know that at the moment) dress shop. you were incredibly nervous about people seeing you together, considering that the decision was slightly impulsive.

but when you got there, you and tom were suprised to see that there wasn't really anyone there, except for one or two other people, but tom had pulled his hoodie over his head, which did in fact make him look odd, so no one recognized him, not really.

you picked out 9-10 dresses, and dropped them in the cart that tom was pushing around, analyzing every detail.

at first, you hadn't been excited. but now that spider-man was showing up witn you, you had to dress to impress.

"okay," you declared, setting one more in, "i think that's good for now. to the dressing room!" beaming, you pumped a hand in the air.

"whatever you want, babe," he grinned, matching your energy.

his critic was not at all helpful, because he insisted that you looked breath-taking in everything you wore, and as much as it boosted yout confidence, it wasn't particularly useful.

"it looks really nice on you, love."

"it's neon orange," you snickered, raising an eyebrow. "i look like a highlighter."

"a super sexy highlighter."

"thanks."

you immediately put it back on the rack, grabbing another one instead.

this was a dark, navy blue, intricate flowers decorating the dress. you liked it, but it didn't seem right on you. so you tried again. this time it was a lush pink, with a heart-shaped neckline, the train was long, but it was too long. the next one's v-neck was something tom was not on board with.

"i don't want to seem controlling or anything like that, because you're allowed to wear whatever you want, but this seems, um-?"

it's giving stripper, which is a vibe, (sometimes??), but not the vibe i'm going for.

"yeah, i know."

back into the dressing room.

you'd tried a million dresses, and this was your last one. you stepped out of the room, ready to give up on finding the perfect one and just going with the blue dress.

the second he looked at you, though, his jaw dropped.

"it's good?" you asked, unsure.

"it's the one. for sure."

the gown was a deep, dark red, with a train that was the perfect size. the v-neck wasn't too deep, so it didn't expose you too much. the material hugged your curves just right, making you look like a princess.

hell, you felt like a princess.

"i like it, too. maybe we can get you a matching tux? if you'd like?"

"perfect idea. i can't wait," he moved closer to kiss you. "you look pretty in this dress. not that you don't look pretty when you're not wearing it, because you look pretty no matter what-"

you cut him off, giggling, "i know, tommy."

"good. shall we go check this out?"

"yep!" after that, you went and got tom's suit, some accesories, shoes, and a new clutch, also courtesy of tom, even though you told him you really didn't need it; "just let me do this, you know i love to!"

and then?

and then it was prom night. you'd just finished curling and setting your hair, and you were ready. you admired yourself in the mirror, for once feeling confident in your body. too bad you'd have to take it off at the end of the night and then you wouldn't feel pretty anymore.

"you ready?"

you snapped out of your thoughts, looking up, "uh, yeah. you?"

"yuppers," he smirked, making you laugh slightly.

"you're really beautiful. but i'm not just saying that because you're all dolled up tonight, but because you really, truly are on the inside. it's part of the reason i fell in love with you, and how pretty you are on the outside, which you really are, is just a bonus. i love you, y/n."

you swore you felt tears burning the backs of your eyes, because how did this man always know exactly what to say?

"you're very pretty, too. and i love you more."

"i love you most."

the rest of the night went fairly smootly. it was really what you expected.

some asked for photos and autographs.

some gaped.

some whispered and asked you questions: "you're dating y/n?" was a common one. along with how you met, why he was dating you, if he was getting paid (or laid)... like you expected.

your friends were shocked, to see the least.

elise almost died, "babe! you're dating my celebrity crush and you didn't tell me?!"

"meh, andrew's my favorite, but you're cool, too," grace, one of your friends shrugged, half joking. she was... less enthusiastic.

grace gave him a one-over, "you better not hurt her, because-"

he chuckled, "you'll kill me?"

"no," she paused, "i have a feeling she'll do that herself."

that caused another round of laughs. a couple hours later, a slow song came on, and you looked over to see tom talking to your friends' boyfriends, and you smiled, glad they got along. you waved him over.

"hey, darling. your friends are nice," he commented, swaying you softly.

"i'm glad you think so."

"how come i haven't met them before?"

you shrugged, "we weren't that close then, but we are now."

"ah, i see."

it was just the music in the background, as you'd tuned out everything else. you gazed into his soft brown eyes, feeling so greatful for him. yes, braving the public was something you'd have to do later on, but for now, it was just you and him.

just you and tom against the world.

so he kissed you like no one else mattered, and in that moment, no one else did.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #fluff i think

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sixhours · 2 months

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Chapter 11 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

You’re napping on your cot in the clinic when the walkie at your belt scratches out your name. You rub your eyes, fumbling for the switch.

“Here,” you mutter, sitting up.

“Got a situation, patroller with a busted leg,” someone says.

“Okay, bring them in.”

“Gonna need to make a house call, doc. Meet us at the east gate.”

“Copy that. Out.”

Shit.

Patrol was rough and sometimes things went sideways–Theresa told you as much–but you’ve never had to leave the settlement before. You pick up the med kit, double-check to make sure you have everything you need, and grab your down jacket.

There are two men on horseback waiting for you. You know one is Eliot, and the other…is Joel.

Well, this will be interesting.

Joel gives you a barely perceptible nod. “She can ride with me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the too-easy double entendre, and you swear you see the hint of a smirk before his face drops back into a gruff mask and he puts out a hand to help you up. You can’t ignore the flush of heat that courses through you at his touch, an embarrassing Pavlovian response. You know what those hands are capable of, and you remember all too well where they were last night. You wonder, in a flash of helpless depravity, if you could still smell your slick on his fingers. It doesn’t help that you’re forced to press your whole damn body against his back just to stay on the horse.

Fuck, this is going to be a day.

“You know how to use this?” he asks over his shoulder, holding up a pistol.

“I might.”

He scoffs as you take the gun, check the safety, then tuck it into the back of your jeans.

“Shouldn’t need it, but y’never know,” he says.

When the gates close with a thud , you feel your chest constrict. You’ve lived within the safety of Jackson’s walls for months, too used to its creature comforts. You tighten your grip slightly around Joel’s waist as he nudges the horse to a fast trot, Eliot riding ahead. Your ass is already starting to hurt.

“How far out?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light.

“Couple hours’ ride; we’re camped at the southeastern outpost.”

“What happened?”

“Allan’s horse got spooked and threw her.”

“...Theresa Allan?”

There’s a pause. “Yeah.”

“You said it was a break?”

“Uh-huh. Bone went through the skin…can’t move her until it’s set and splinted.”

“Shit.”

You shift in the saddle, trying to take some pressure off your tailbone, your thighs already aching from the effort of keeping your balance. Joel seems to notice.

“Woulda thought you’d have experience on horseback, comin’ from Nebraska.”

“I’m not from Nebraska. I grew up in New York. I was a city kid.”

“So…how’d you end up at the Omaha QZ?”

“It’s a long and uninteresting story.”

“We got time.”

You let out a deep sigh.

“Alright. I was finishing my residency at a hospital in Maine when the outbreak happened. Managed to get out alive with a…group.

“We protected each other. My medical experience was useful, so I guess I had more luck than some. Just happened to land in Omaha at some point, and that was home…until it wasn’t.”

In your defense, this is all true, save for the destination and the fact that the “group” in question was FEDRA. Your story is the same as countless others, and it comes so naturally, it doesn’t feel like lying…not exactly.

“You were right about the uninteresting part,” Joel says dryly, but there’s a teasing lilt in his voice. “I’m fallin’ asleep over here.”

You clamp down on a smirk, kicking the back of his leg with your boot.

“Asshole.”

~*~

Theresa is ashen and shivering under a moth-eaten wool blanket when you finally arrive at the outpost, which is little more than a shack in the woods. She greets you with a shaky smile through gritted teeth.

“Hey, babe. Fancy…meeting you…here.”

You wince in sympathy. “Can I take a look?”

She nods, teeth clattering as you pull back the blanket and a blood-soaked bandage to reveal the fracture, the jagged white shard of her tibia poking through the skin of her lower leg. You remember trailing kisses up that leg, her thigh, the taste of her on your tongue, and you have to stop yourself from going further with the thought.

“Alright. Let’s get you fixed up,” you murmur.

You set your med kit on the floor and kneel, pulling out gauze, alcohol, wrapping, and a tiny bottle of precious painkillers. You hand her three of the small white pills and a canteen. “Take these. They might take the edge off.”

“Might,” Theresa snorts, but she swallows the pills with a gulp of water.

You kneel beside her, taking her hand, giving it a squeeze. “This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Wow, don’t hold back or anything,” she huffs. “Can…we get it…over with?”

“Give the pills a chance to work. I’ll be right back.”

Joel is waiting for you outside. “I’m going to need someone to help me hold her while I set and wrap the break, and someone to keep an eye on her vitals.”

“We’ve got four. Two on watch, two with you. Eliot’s got field medic training, he can handle the nurse stuff.”

You nod.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice suddenly low.

“Fine,” you reply automatically. Indeed, you’re not looking forward to the next part, but it comes with the territory.

He considers this, then nods. “I’ll hold her.”

~*~

It’s as bloody and painful as you expect. Theresa's screams are barely muffled by the belt strap in her mouth, but eventually, you’re able to get the bone back into place. The sun is setting by the time you’ve finished bandaging, wrapping, and splinting the leg. Your hands, jacket, and jeans are splattered in Theresa’s blood, and Eliot brings in snow and melts it over a camp stove to help you wash up.

Theresa is conscious, resting, covered by the wool blanket. Her blood pressure stabilizes and the painkillers are doing their work. Small favors.

Joel waits at the threshold, arms crossed. “We’ve got a sled fashioned up to take her out, but I don’t wanna risk it in the dark.”

You wince. It’s going to be a slow and painful journey back to Jackson.

He leans in, hand coming to rest lightly on your forearm. You’re glad for long sleeves that hide the sudden rash of goosebumps that pop up at his touch, the low timbre of his voice sending a pleasant shiver through you.

“Sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, giving him a tired smile to prove it. He studies your face, then nods slowly.

“Alright. Make yourself comfortable, we’ll ride out when it’s light. Be outside if you need anything.”

Then he ducks out in a whirl of cold air.

You roll out a spare sleeping bag and wrap yourself in your bloody jacket, easing yourself down onto the floor next to Theresa. Your fingers find the pulse point at her throat and she stirs, eyes opening to you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, making a mental note of her heart rate.

“Like shit,” she croaks.

“Meds might make you nauseous. Think you can eat?”

She shakes her head, making a face.

“Water, then,” you say, picking up the canteen and putting it to her lips. She takes a few slow sips and swallows, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. This seems to sap all her remaining strength, and her eyes close, fluttering shut.

You think she’s asleep, but then she speaks again, voice rough.

“So…you and Joel.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she cuts in, blinking at you with drugged eyes. “Don’t even try, babe.”

You huff a sigh, and close your eyes. “Thea–”

“I care…about you,” she says, struggling to keep her eyes on you. “You know that…right?”

The sentiment is so foreign, so unexpected, your mouth goes dry and you cough to cover your surprise.

“You’re on drugs,” you remind her dryly.

“Good ones,” she agrees. “But I know…what I see.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, even though you’re not sure you want the answer.

She grins then, a brilliant and wry smile that reminds you why you found her so attractive in the first place.

“You’re…alike, you and him.”

“I’m ‘lethal?’” you scoff. “Isn’t that how you put it?”

“Untouchable.”

The word hangs in the open air like a warning shot.

“Look, Thea, don’t…don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s not serious, and his kid doesn’t know. Would make it awkward if–”

“Secret’s safe with me,” she mumbles. “But I meant it…what I said before. Be careful.”

~*~

You’re jolted awake from a cold and troubled sleep by the sound of gunfire.

“Shit,” you breathe, reaching for the pistol at your back. Theresa is awake, too, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What’s–”

“Shh.”

There’s yelling in the distance. You creep on all fours to one wall. There are no windows, just a boarded-up hole through which you can see slivers of moonlight. You try to peek through the slats but all you see are the shadows of trees on snow.

Where the fuck are the guards?

More shouting, sounding further away, and then…shuffling. A croak that is far too close for comfort.

Your finger flicks off the pistol’s safety and you turn to Theresa, putting a finger to your lips. You put your ear to the wall, trying to pinpoint the sound’s location, when a loud thud lands on the door.

Theresa lets out a startled shriek, and you whirl around, ready to tell her to shut up, but then the door begins to crack and splinter as the infected throws itself against it, pounding and pounding until the sound drowns out Theresa’s whimpering and the infernal racket of your heart between your ears.

You get to one knee and bring the pistol up, holding it steady with both hands, trying to slow your breath.

In. Out. In. Out.

The hinges give a rusty scream as they’re wrenched off the frame and the infected breaches the door.

You take the shot.

It goes wide, but it draws the creature’s attention. Its gaping maw hisses and croaks at you, and when it lurches in your direction, you fire one more bullet into the center of its bulbous forehead. It drops like a stone.

A shadow appears in the doorway, and you aim for the head, finger steady on the trigger.

It’s Joel, wide-eyed, breathing hard. He raises his hands. “Fuck–”

You don’t lower the gun; your muscles are trembling, locked in place by adrenaline and fear. You’re still seeing the infected in front of you, coming straight at you, mouth open and ready to feed.

In. Out.

Another moment passes. You feel your finger ease up, feel yourself standing slowly. Joel switches between watching you with concern and glancing at the gnarled body on the floor.

“Are there more?” you bark, not ready to give up the gun just yet.

Joel shakes his head slowly, hands still raised like you might change your mind and shoot him after all.

“Where the fuck were you?” you hiss, finally tucking the gun back into your jeans.

“Eliot and Ashbury had one to the south, I was watchin’ their six,” he says, looking down at the infected corpse. “Seems like you had it covered, though.”

The walkie on his belt squawks, Eliot’s voice staticky over the airwaves. “Joel, you there?”

“M’here. Found one up by the cabin…we took care of it,” he says, looking pointedly at you. “Clear.”

He steps outside to continue the conversation, although now that the door is gone, there’s not much point. You turn to look at Theresa, who has pushed herself to a half-sitting position against the nearest wall, pale and shaking.

It was already freezing in the shack, and now the wind coming through the open doorway makes it unbearable. The sweat that beaded on your skin in the heat of the moment has cooled, making you feel damp and slimy beneath your coat. You grab one of the scratchy wool blankets and look for some way to secure it to the door frame.

“That was…f-f-fucking impres-s-sive,” Theresa chatters, watching as you move about the shack, looking for a spare nail, a piece of wood, anything to pin the blanket up. “If it weren’t so…fucking c-c-cold in here I’d…b-b-be turned on.”

“It was,” Joel says. You hadn’t noticed he’d re-entered the cabin, but now he’s standing there, still watching you with something like trepidation. “Impressive, I mean.”

You shoot him a look. “Help me get this up. We need to get this place warm.”

~*~

It’s only a couple of hours until dawn, but the time crawls by in a bitter-cold haze. Joel drags the infected corpse into the woods and you manage to get the door covered. You spend the rest of the time curled up against Theresa’s good side under the blanket, trying to conserve body heat.

It’s a welcome relief to be up on the horse, arms anchored firmly around Joel’s waist and heading back to Jackson in the early morning light. Eliot and his patrol partner’s horses are hooked to the makeshift sleigh upon which Theresa is bundled, while Ashbury rides ahead as a scout. You gave Theresa another pain pill before you set off, but you suspect it’s not doing much good with all the jostling on the frozen, pock-marked ground.

It’s been an hour of this lurching, plodding cadence when Joel’s voice drifts over his shoulder.

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“Picked it up while I was out there, I guess.”

You feel him shift against you, leaning back slightly. Even sweaty and bloody and in pain, his proximity is unnerving. The constant pressure of the saddle rolling between your legs doesn’t help.

“Looked like a FEDRA thing.”

“That so?” you say, trying to sound disinterested.

“Hell of a shot, though,” he says when you don’t elaborate. “For a ‘city kid.’”

“Mmm. Got lucky,” you sigh, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades, smelling the warm leather of his jacket. You’re so tired you could fall asleep right now, sore ass be damned.

“Right,” he says, drawing out the word sarcastically. “Well, remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Doesn’t feel so good on the other end of the barrel, does it, Miller?”

He gives a soft, knowing chuckle. “No, I s’pose it don’t.”

~*~

You finally ride into Jackson, exhausted and bruised and desperate for a shower. Theresa is set up at home with one of the clinic nurses as a caregiver, and you promise to check on her the next morning.

Joel disappears without a word as soon as you dismount, trotting off toward the stables. You’re too tired to worry about his suspicious questioning, although in the back of your mind, you know you should be.

When you finally make it home, you don’t have the energy to do more than stumble upstairs and fall into bed fully clothed, still bloody and sweaty. The shower will have to wait.

~*~

A feather-light touch draws itself down your cheek, and you startle awake in the semi-dark, pushing yourself up and reaching for the knife you keep tucked between the mattress and box spring.

“Whoa, s’just me,” Joel says. “Don’t shoot.”

You blink up at him, confused. “What–how did you–”

“Door was open.”

Shit.

In your exhaustion, you’d forgotten to set the lock. Christ, being in Jackson has made you stupid.

You realize his hand is still resting on your cheek, and you sit up abruptly to break the contact.

“What is it? Is Thea alright?”

“She’s fine. Checked in on her before I came over. Just…wanted to see you.”

He leans in, capturing your lips with his, tongue sliding against yours in a sweet erotic dance, and you moan softly, instantly wet. After a full day of being so close, so fucking close without being able to touch him, to feel his lips on your sensitive skin, you’re like a woman starved.

You pull back with great difficulty, breathing hard. “I need a shower. I’m filthy.”

“Yeah y’are,” he growls, nipping at your ear, sending a hot shiver of delight straight to your core. But then he stands, reaches out a hand, and you take it.

The water feels amazing when it hits your skin, washing off the remains of Theresa’s blood, the dried sweat, soothing the ache in your muscles. He holds you under the stream of rushing water as his hands run the soap up and down your back, and he kisses you and bites at your neck until your legs threaten to give out. When he grabs your ass and presses you to him, nudging his cock between your thighs just out of reach of where you need it, you groan in frustration.

“Not in the shower, Miller.”

“M’not that stupid,” he says, but you’re not convinced. He leans back but only slightly, forehead pressed to yours, panting through gritted teeth. “God, the things you do to me. Wanted you that whole time, out there. Wanted you to…to–”

“Show me,” you murmur, reaching behind you to shut off the water, not caring that your body is still slick with soap.

You’re going to need another shower after this, anyway.

#fanfic #fic recs #the last of us hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us

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eastralyn · 8 months

Text

Continued

Trigger warning; domestic violence

My first memory of my dad was a picture and my mom saying "that's your dad, that's what he looks like". I think she showed me the picture and told me to keep it so I wouldn't forget what he looked like until he came home next. I remember vividly that picture, from his large moustache to the white uniform he was wearing. In every picture I remember, he's on a ship. There's always ocean, there's always a ship and there's always him in these photos.

What I remember just as vividly is how he wasn't the person in the photo when I got home. He was always just similar to the pictures I had, but colder. More distant. I could never tell if he was happy to be home and I could never tell at the time why he never stayed. And that's how it's always gone with him. Glaring absences with sprinkles of presence. He always seemed miserable when I was young, the few times I remember with him.

I'd be so excited when he was coming home; so why wasn't he? Why wasn't he excited to see me? He seemed so annoyed with me wanting to soak up his every detail because I knew one morning he'd be gone; he'd morph into the voice on the other end of the phone and it would be another 6-8 months before I saw him again. He'd leave tons of presents for me and my mom before heading back to work. I have more memories of the things he bought me than himself as a person.

Still, my mom and I would follow him. It seemed random though; we'd spend almost a year in Miami so he could get education for his job. We'd spend time in Texas so he could have an easier time getting on the ship. We'd wind up spending a year in the Caribbean, which was the worst year for all of us. And each time, he'd leave or we'd leave, always back to New York. And I thought that's how it would always go; we'd leave together and then my mom and I would come back to New York alone.

The last memory I have of my dad in New York is the first time I realized my parent's relationship wasn't quite right. They has always argued a lot, but I would try to get them to hold hands, ask them if they still loved each other. But not this one night. This one night, my mom was cutting food in the kitchen and my dad was in there too. I think they were screaming at each other, which wasn't abnormal. But it seemed different this time. My mom would get so angry and he would get so angry; they would say horrible things to each other. This time, it escalated. I think my mom might have said for him to get away from her. There must have been a commotion I was disassociating from because all I remember next is my dad sitting in the living room in the dark, a hole freshly bleeding in his arm. My mom had stabbed him and was now losing her mind in the kitchen. I didn't know what to do as my dad sat there silently; tears streaming down his face.

I thought I could fix it. In my 4 or 5 year old wisdom, I thought I could make him smile. I'm his only daughter; if I can make him see how much I care, then we can care for each other and fix all this mess.

I climbed on his lap; no reaction.

I started asking questions; no reaction.

My mom is in the background alternating between saying don't touch him because he has diseases and losing her mind that she stabbed her husband. She eventually called the cops on herself, because my mind flashes to the next memory. Police are there and they want to see my cereal. My dad is just gone, my mom is just gone. I don't know where they are. And I don't know what happens next.

That's where the memory ends. It's taken me years to understand all the gaps, silences and skips are erased in the murky waters of trauma. Where did my parents go that night? Did they take my mom? Where did my dad go? Why does he always disappear in my worst memories?

He exists as a phantom in my mind. He's there but you can't see him. You can hear him calling, but it's as easy as discerning whispers on a breeze. He shows up in a blinding flash of light, and leaves just as quickly. His presence is a chaotic lightning strike hitting random spots on the map of my life; he leaves marks but he's too quick for you to actually notice he had been there.

#writing #writer #eastralyn #write #blog #journal #personal post #spotify #memoir #real life #memories #growing up #Spotify

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slutforstabbings-archive · 11 months

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Number 5 with a Bullet - May

read on AO3 | tumblr masterpost

older!rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader/unnamed OC a multimedia diary fic

An unnamed diary writer working at a record label meets retired rockstar Eddie Munson when he's hired as the producer for an upcoming band's first album. Despite the 20+ year age gap and Eddie's checkered past, the chemistry between them is instant and they fall for each other alarmingly fast. But their budding romance can't stay private forever. Will she be able to handle the pressure of being a rockstar's girlfriend? Can multiple-divorcé Eddie finally make a relationship last? And what will the record company, the tabloids, and Eddie's semi-estranged adult children have to say about it?

general contents/warnings for this fic: angst, fluff, smut (MDNI), 20+ year age gap, past substance abuse issues, past sex work, multiple kinks no specific warnings for these entries

810 words

@rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires @toxicanonymity @hersweetrevenge @cordelium dm me or reply to this post to be added to my tag list 💕

transcript below the cut

20 May

Work has been so fucking boring lately. Festival season is in full swing and all the bands being out on the road means nobody is in the studio. I have a dull couple of months ahead of me. Most of the year it’s extremely fun, but studio manager summers suck.

And this is my fifth one! Fuck, I’ve been doing this a long time. Might be at the point where I should start angling for a promotion or something. I’ll bring it up to Rina. She’s climbed almost all the way to the top of the ladder – they announced a couple weeks ago she’s going to be the new director of A+R. I’m not sure what my options for moving up really are, but I know if Rina’s director she’ll have my back.

Seems like pretty much any job title would get me more interesting summers than this. Most of my coworkers and most of my non-work friends are gone somewhere doing something. A lot of them are on tour too, playing or managing or doing lights. The ones that aren’t are renting a beach house or living in Europe for a few months. The label offices are a ghost town and so is my calendar.

Maybe I’ll use some of my vacation time, take advantage of my connections to actually go to a festival for once. I already missed Coachella but that doesn’t bother me at all, that’s not the kind of festival I want. I think I’ll look for something much smaller, more curated, more niche, and NOT in California. A little east coast trip sounds so nice.

22 May

I didn’t even get a chance to look for a small east coast fest before I decided I’m staying home this summer. The best email I’ve ever gotten in my entire fucking life was waiting for me when I got back from lunch.

There’s the band, Apologetic Weapons. I’m friends with the members, especially the bassist, Nicky (we went on one date – no spark but we’ve been buddies ever since). I’ve been going to their shows since their second or third gig. I remember the first night I saw them, getting in my car and opening my work email immediately. Rina had been on the discovery team for a while by then and I was like keep an eye on these guys. All they had at the time was an instagram with ONE post.

Then last year they did a self-release that was so fucking good. I sent that to Rina too, and she said they were already negotiating a deal. I fucking called it! I couldn’t be happier for them, they’re gonna be fucking huge. The email was a request to book them studio time.

It’s so dope, it’s my first time working with a band I've followed since the beginning! But that’s not even all of it…

THE PRODUCER IS GONNA BE EDDIE FUCKING MUNSON!

Holy shit!!!!! When I read the email my jaw was on the fucking floor.

Corroded Coffin is like, everything to me. They were my first favorite band, Mom used to play them in the car for me all the time. I got sent home to change in school so many times for my collection of “inappropriate” CC t-shirts. I fucking cried when Eddie announced that he was retiring because I only got to see them twice 🙁 But I heard these rumors that he got his GED and went to college for audio engineering. Can you imagine sitting in a fucking college lecture and THE Eddie Munson asks to borrow a pen?? Anyway, I guess this means the rumors are true!

I respect that a lot. He’s been a megastar for like, 30 some odd years and plenty of other artists get into production with no formal training or anything, but he still put in the work. He seems like a pretty decent guy, unlike some of his peers. It’s such a low bar to just like, not hit your wife, not fuck around with underage girls, and not say stupid shit about minorities, but these old fuckers keep tripping over it anyway. Not Eddie tho. He’s far from perfect – substance abuse, arrests, car accidents, four ex-wives, all those pictures and videos that leaked – but he’s been out of the headlines for years, and I’ve never heard any industry people say anything bad about him.

And the man himself is aging like a fine wine. He’s always been stupidly beautiful, but in recent pictures his iconic hair is salt and pepper, and he’s got these deep crows feet and lines on his forehead. Somehow it all works to make him even hotter. I can’t believe I get to meet him and work adjacent to him. This summer is actually gonna be so fun.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #older!eddie #mine #slutforart #em

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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sweet emotion pt three | stranger things ; e.munson

A/N ; Like yesterday's post for Gareth's reader fic... This is not where I intended to go with this, not at all. But, I've been kinda giving the boys their little moments -because I can and I want to, so I guess it was just his turn today. Hopefully, you guys are enjoying these.

I promise, the next part is going to have brother sister moments in it for Dustin. Because I do really want to write the after to this, where they're watching movies together at Eddie's place or something...

Seriously, y'all have no idea just how much your feedback means and how much it really makes me heart happy, even if it's just a like or whatever. I'm not picky at all. I'll be honest, most of the time I really don't think anything I do share is gonna like.. go anywhere beyond merely getting out of my head. So when you guys take the time to read it, it blows me away. Thank you. Love you all! -Ashes

Pairing ; Eddie MunsonxHenderson!Fem reader

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; part I - part II can both be found by clicking. It's probably a good idea to go back and read those before this. Or be crazy and read this first then those, nobody's gonna know. The upside down + it's unholy terrors and Eddie's death do not occur here despite it being set in 86. Everyone is age appropriate, btw, reader is 18 and in Eddie's grade so there's like.. a year age gap. This isn't going to be as much of a slow burn as Steve's henderson!fem or Gareth's princess/rich girl!fem because frankly, I feel like maybe it'll be cute if it happens a little quicker (i love him and i'm impatient tbh.)

Tag List ; @musichealsscars @scoobiessnacks @krys-orion @allelitesmut @aries-arcade and @hcloangcls are the only ones on my Stranger Things masterlist. I extend a tag to @rampagewriting --- absolutely ignore if you're too busy or not up to it, no pressure. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Stranger Things, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; bit of a gross situation with an older woman being gross towards Eddie while he's playing -making him visibly uncomfortable ; it's hinted that this is repeated behavior, with a confrontation to follow between reader and said woman. Uh... there's just a small hint that reader kind of fesses up -without really doing so, the way she feels. Lots of internalization and these two just being touchy-feely and cute.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open -> send me things. [headcanon asks, filth or fluff alphabet only + no wrestling asks ]. I beg. I plead.. The inbox is still open.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

There are more people than you thought there would be and the second you’re standing in the parking lot hugging yourself against the cold wind while Astrid tries and fails to light a cigarette, the more you’re wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have stayed home. Especially when you hear a leggy brunette with a short skirt and a shirt so tight she couldn’t possibly have been able to breathe walks past talking about how she plans on getting railed by the singer in the band tonight.

Astrid rolls her eyes as the brunette vanishes through the door. “He never even looks at her, where she keeps insisting they’ll hook up is totally beyond me.” she’s shivering and her teeth are chattering, “I’m freezin my tits off, c’mon.”

“I..”

“God damn it, woman. There won’t be that many people here. Most of these,” she gestures to the vehicles crammed in the parking lot of the bar, “Are just guys gettin off down at the factory. They never stay.”

You swallow hard and nod. “If you laugh at me I’m giving you a twisted nipple.”

“Yeah, try it. Then I’m gonna yank your panties so hard they bury in your brain stem, woman.” Astrid laughs, sticking her tongue out at you. “Seriously though.. It’s going to be fine. Totally fine.”

“What if he does want her here though? Like… what if when he told me there was going to be a crowd, that was him trying to deter me?” you drag your hand through your hair and you pace a second or two, pausing to gaze at the flickering in the neon on one of the windows.

Astrid snorts. “But he said if you got nervous, you could go backstage. Why would he offer that to begin with if he doesn’t want you here?”

You laugh at yourself and take a long and deep breath. “Okay. Alright. Let’s go inside before I freeze the little bit of ass I do have off.”

“Girl.” Astrid glances back at your butt. “You’re just a walking delusion tonight, hm?”

“Ha. Right.” you stick out your tongue. Astrid pushes open the door to the bar and the two of you wander in. The warmth of the room feels better than the wind outside. Astrid catches sight of Gareth and she breaks her neck to get over to him, climbing him like a tree. “Baby. I missed youuu.” she drawls against his neck. And you’re smiling softly about it, shaking your head because you’re just happy for your best friend and Gareth is a sweet guy.

You shuffle your feet and play with the sleeve of your favorite black button up long sleeve. You catch sight of Eddie but he hasn’t seen you yet. Astrid has disappeared with Gareth and you’re not even about to go try to find her. You take a shaky breath or two and you make your way over to the bar to sit on a stool. Someone has Motley Crue playing in the back where some older men are playing pool on ancient pool tables.

You’re scanning the bar and playing with the sleeve edge of your shirt, zoned out. Edgy because your thing with crowds. You’re assuming that Eddie hasn’t realized you’re here yet ,,-or maybe he’s not looking, I mean c’mon, I saw the brunette with the legs and the boobs.” the thought comes just as you catch sight of Jeff peering out from the back. He ducks back inside the back room really quick and you’re just about to get up and walk… somewhere… but before you get the chance, Eddie’s making his way out, the bandana he normally keeps in his back pocket tying his hair back like a pirate on one of your mom’s book covers and all you can do is stare.

That’s nothing new.

You’re brought round from your daze by Eddie’s deep chuckle. He shakes you a little, tilting his head to look down at you in concern. “You’re okay, right?”

You nod to reassure him and give him your best smile. “I’m fine.” your answer is probably too quiet and definitely a slight falsehood but it can be argued that you’re starting to feel just a little more secure because you’re not alone.

“C’mon.” Eddie’s just noticed one of the rowdier old men slip in. One that doesn’t have a problem hitting on a younger girl because he’s let them take him home before. He grabs hold of your hand and starts to lead you towards the back and you’re laughing. He relaxes a little better when you’re away from the front of the bar.

You were trying to spot what was different besides the bandana tonight and then, it hits you. He’s wearing eyeliner. Tight-line, of course. But it makes bright brown eyes really pop, it makes them seem bigger. And you’re staring all over again. You step closer. The jolt that comes when you’re body to body with him has your breath catching in your throat. You bite your lip as you raise up on your toes. “Are you..” you giggle a little, “You’re wearing eyeliner. Holy shit… your eyes.” you bite your lip to make yourself stop talking.

“Hey!” he frowns. “There’s not a fucking thing wrong with eyeliner.”

“No! It’s not that, it just makes your eyes brighter, I swear that’s all I was getting at.” you ramble and then you scowl at yourself and go quiet as soon as you realize you were doing it. Palming your face. Which Eddie grateful for because you can’t see the stupid, goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks.” he mumbles when he finally pulls himself together. You finally manage to get yourself recovered from the fiasco your mouth and brain refusing to work together has created and you laugh softly. “Do you get nervous? When you play, I mean?”

“I used to. Now I just focus on the music.” Eddie shrugs. It’s the truth. The first time they played a gig here, he was out behind the bar throwing up when he saw the slim crowd. Now he’s done it so much and he knows how to focus on the music instead of any nerves he feels.

And as he answers you, he notes mentally that the music isn’t going to be the only thing he’s focusing on tonight. Because you’re here and he’ll be up there, in a trance. Also, he’ll be making sure that one rowdy regular doesn’t get a second alone with you.

Especially not since you’re wearing that one black shirt that hugs your body and the same jumper dress that you wore earlier in the week with thigh high stockings and your combat boots, which you’re wearing again tonight. And cue him, promptly getting distracted. Stepping closer to you. Doing that thing he does that he probably shouldn’t where he’s got his hands on your hips. It honestly seems like lately, there’s a lot of touching going on between you both.

He’s at least ninety percent sure that yours is nearly all friendly and the occasional bout of anxiety even though Dustin swears that it isn’t, but he knows that his reason personally is just the overwhelming desire to always have some part of his body touching some part of yours.

Especially when there’s a situation happening where you do happen to be a little overwhelmed.

“Dustin said he’d come to watch movies too. I think Mike’s mom was taking them to pick some up when I dropped him off.”

Eddie grins and laughs. “Awesome. They better not get anything lame.” he’s joking, of course but you nod in agreement. “That’s what I told him.”

Then you’re both quiet. And drifting closer together.

Jeff is grinning when he wanders over, reaching out to fluff at your hair, it’s become a thing with the guys because you’re not as tall as they are. Even Gareth is just a little taller than you. And they all think it’s fucking hilarious to fluff your hair or Astrid’s hair.

You stick out your tongue at him and he laughs, turning his attention to Eddie. “We go live in a minute.”

“Gotcha.” Eddie gives him a smirk and a thumbs up. He picks up his guitar and follows the rest of the band out onto the makeshift little stage set up in the front.

You and Astrid make your way out into the crowd and find a place to sit at one of the tables. And almost the second he starts to play Sweet Leaf, you can’t help but gaze up at him and grin brightly, nodding your head along to the song. It’s one of your favorite Ozzy songs of all time. You’re thrashing your head around and having a good time, laughing with Astrid. Forgetting momentarily about the crowd or the way you were freaking out over it a few minutes before.

Up on stage, Eddie’s smiling to himself. Eyes glued to you as he sings and plays his guitar. Watching you smile and thrash your head around, drum the table and just basically bounce in your seat because you’re having so much fun. He’s relieved that you’re not freaking out like you were before he walked out to you. He’s still reeling that you even showed up.

He’d done everything possible not to get his hopes up. But you’re sitting out in the crowd and you’re getting into the music and at one point he even hears you singing along. When he finishes the song you’re on your feet with Astrid, clapping, whistling and laughing.

The brunette that always tries to force herself on him and yells disgusting shit when he’s on stage is there too but tonight, with you being there, it’s so much easier to block her out.

But he’s worried. That you’ll hear her and you’ll be upset or get the wrong impression.

You hear the brunette in the too tight shirt yelling again.

“You realize he’s old enough to be your son, right?” you say it before you can stop yourself because she looks like she’s probably approaching your mom’s age, she’s just… Hot. Like a model on the cover in a magazine. In all the worst ways. All the fake ways.

The brunette must have heard you because she looks right at you. And she smirks. “Aw… is the little baby jealous?”

“Not really, I just think it’s kinda pathetic you’re saying all this shit when you know he’s old enough to be your son. And it’s gross and it’s making him uncomfortable.” you answer with the mildest shrug. Your heart is racing a little, you’re a little nervous because once again, your big mouth has written a check your ass probably can’t cash.

Sensing blood in the water because she sees the way you’re gripping the can of Sprite in your hand, Astrid tugs your sleeve. “After this one we’ll go outside.. So things don’t get bad.”

You nod and smile.

But the brunette’s suggestive remarks turn to downright crude ones and it’s almost as if she’s pushing. Picking at an exposed nerve. And god help you, your jealousy and that hot temper you rightly inherited from Claudia Henderson, those come into play. When you see Eddie cringing at some of the worst shit she’s said, you go to stand.

Astrid grabs your hand and pulls you back down.

“Outside.”

“Yeah,yeah. Okay, alright. Outside.” you mumble.

The band takes a break and Astrid pulls you up, the two of you making a beeline for a door that leads out back of the bar. Once you’re outside, you’re ranting and pacing, letting your irritation at the woman’s behavior be heard.

“It’s just disgusting, I mean.. He’s uncomfortable. It’s pissing me off because I know he’s too damn nice to say anything. But not me. Noooo. I’m going to choke her if she keeps it up.” you’re so caught up in your little rant that you don’t stop and think about what you’re saying and this is probably why you end up sort of halfway revealing that you feel at least something towards Eddie.

And in the midst of it, two things happen.

One, Eddie happens to walk out. But he stays out of sight because he’s at the van, looking for a string for Jeff because one of the strings on Jeff’s guitar broke during their attempt at Ace of Spades. He can hear bits and pieces of what you’re saying in the alley, it’s not like you’re trying to be quiet. He freezes mid-grab when he hears you tell Astrid that you care about him too much to just sit back and listen to the woman being disgusting. And when Astrid laughs and teases gently, “You mean you love him.. Right?” you don’t really say anything.

Which has him curious. And his mind being the way it is, he takes this a thousand different ways. By the time he’s gotten the pack of string for Jeff, he’s halfway convinced himself that if anything, you love him like a friend.. Or maybe, to make it really awkward, you see him as another brother now, because of the bond between him and your own little brother and the way your mother is always quick to invite him over if she sees him out and about in town.

Because that has to be it… Right?

He can’t even fathom the reality being anything else because he’s just… Not used to good things at all.

Two, the older brunette woman in question happens to walk out and she spots you. And she walks right over. Smirk growing wider with each step she takes. “Only pathetic person I see in there is you. Just say you were jealous because he might’ve been looking at me more than you and go, you little bitch. Don’t you know?” she takes a long drag of her cigarette and blows the smoke right at you and you step away, scowling with your arms folded, “The boys in the band only like the girls like me.”

And yes, it does get in your head. It got in your head earlier in the night when you saw her and heard her in the parking lot on your way in. But right now, that’s not the thing that has you furious. She’s making one of your friends uncomfortable. You’re not stupid, you’ve spent enough time hanging around with and tutoring Eddie Munson by this point to know damn well when he’s not comfortable with something and you could see it in his eyes when she got real disgusting and thirsty during that last song before the break.

“Whatever you say.” you’re dismissive. Smirking. “You don’t actually know the guy, by the way.. If you did, you’d have seen the four or five times he looked like he was about to hurl when you felt the need to tell everybody in the bar what you’d let him do to you.” your fist clenches when she steps closer. You’re a breath away from just slapping the taste out of her mouth and the only thing stopping you is the fact that maybe she’s right… Maybe she is his type. You’ve seen the mags in his room that he doesn’t hide well at all. She does kind of resemble at least one of the women on the cover. And it bothers you just a little when the thought arises. Enough so that you don’t do it, you lower your hand before you go through with it.

Astrid steps between the two of you. Because this isn’t you in a crowd anymore. This is person to person. And you’re one hell of a lot braver -and mouthier, when it’s person to person. Especially when it comes to someone you care about, because you bloodied Carver’s nose not even a week ago because you overheard him saying some really nasty shit to Chrissy when the three of you were in the gym at the same time.

Nobody fucks with the people you care about. These people include your little brother -anyone can ask that little idiot Troy how that went because you scared the living shit out of him once when he made Dustin almost cry, Astrid - an old boyfriend was spreading around disgusting rumors last year and you not only upturned your entire tray over his head in front of everyone but you also somehow managed to sneak out during class and let the air out of his front tire and the back one, then you hid the little caps that went on the valve stems, your mother - she’s seen you stand toe to toe with your father when your father promised to do something and then went back on it, you ripped him a new one because your mom cried because she had to explain to Dustin that his dad didn’t have time to make it to one of his camp events, and then there was the thing with Chrissy and the way you just calmly turned Jason’s entire face for him after you dragged him for everything he was worth. And if the way you’re getting worked up and angry on his behalf is anything to go by, Astrid thinks, you really care about Eddie Munson, despite the overwhelming fear you feel in even admitting it.

As all this is happening, you have no clue that Eddie Munson has overheard at least half of the whole thing. And he’s now approaching, ready to break things up before they get out of control. And his mind is absolutely reeling because there’s so many different ways to interpret you not answering when Astrid outright said you were in love with him and right now, he’s more concerned about you and getting you out of this than he is grilling you or getting too wrapped up in his own equally pessimistic thoughts.

“Hey, hey. Hey!” Astrid’s snapping her fingers to keep your eyes on her and not glaring a hole through the brunette. The brunette is laughing. “Let the little girl go, by all means, sugar.”

“Oh no, no ma’am.. You absolutely do not want me to do that.” Astrid tells the other woman. “I can assure you, you definitely do not want that.”

“Lemme go, A.” you’re trying to push through the barrier of your best friend’s arm. “Maybe then this bitch will learn to leave someone who’s clearly not fuckin interested alone and stop fuckin harrassing him.”

“Okay, alright.” Astrid lowers her arm and you’re just about to lunge straight at the other woman when you feel strong arms wrap around your waist, picking you up to stand you behind him. Eddie’s got his arms folded and he’s staring down at the older woman.

“Ya know she’s here with me… Right?” Eddie’s calm when he says it. But there’s a certain small hint of territorial that seeps into the honeyed words as he looks at the older woman. “Just gonna put this to rest right now, alright? Just so you’ll finally get it. I was nice before, but..” he twists at the ring on his index finger as he gazes down at it and takes a deep breath, “now you’re messing with her. So I’m not going to be.”

The woman is starting to get what he’s hinting at, but Eddie doesn’t trust her comprehension level fully, so he just says it outright. “You’re not my type. I’m not even interested in you a little, okay? I asked her to come here tonight. Did I ask you to?” Eddie questions.

“You’re a jerk.”

“And you’re a bully.” Eddie says it so calm. “You can go now. I kinda want to have a minute with my girl before I gotta go back up on stage.” and he waves his hand at her dismissively.

The older brunette leaves in a huff and Eddie’s looking down at you with a mixture of concern and amusement. You’re rambling and ranting, and you apologize at least ten times, but he doesn’t care.

It’s one of the few times someone other than his uncle, Gareth or Jeff or even your own little brother as of late, have stood up for him. Without being forced into it somehow.

He’s definitely mind-blown. Touched by it.

“Hey, hey.” he’s got you looking at him now, one hand on your hip and the other on the column of your neck, “It’s okay. I mean it, it’s okay.” he’s trying to reassure you. You take a deep breath and nod, swallowing hard. But he doesn’t let go right away and for a second or two, in the heat of the moment he’s almost tempted to just say to hell with tiptoeing around the way he feels because your lips look so soft and your perfume’s lingering heavy in his nose and it was just so fucking… Hot to watch you get protective just now. But he knows how skittish you are and he knows that he could very well be misunderstanding everything and thus, it’s not a good idea to react the way he wants in the heat of the moment. He settles the overwhelming urge to kiss you by stroking your cheek instead. And he chuckles quietly. “Thank you.. For that. I’ve wanted to tell her to fuck off a while now.”

You manage a weak smile and nod and he can feel your body starting to release a little of the tension you’d had built up. He goes on to reassure you again, “I’m not mad, okay? I mean it.”

“Okay.”

The wind is picking up and it’s time for the band to go back on anyway. Eddie slips an arm around you and leads you back inside the bar where Astrid is sitting in Gareth’s lap at his drum kit. Astrid was right earlier. The crowd has died down a lot. You’re starting to relax a little more.

Eddie spots the rowdy older man eyeing you up and wordlessly, he gives the man a disgusted look as he pulls you closer to him. You lean into Eddie’s side and take a few deep breaths, grinning like an idiot to yourself, grateful that he’s too preoccupied with talking to Jeff about the rest of the set list for the night to actually look down and see you and the look on your face right now.

And if you weren’t already sure you were head over heels in love with him, tonight just cements that. And it’s something that gives you this rush but somehow, it’s terrifying to comprehend all at once.

And all you’re left with is wondering whether you can actually be okay with just being his friend given the way you feel and knowing you’re too scared to make that leap…

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!fem reader #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader imagine #eddie munson x henderson!fem reader imagine

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rinisbowen · 2 years

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Hi! Be prepared for spam. You've been warned :)) This is not an ask you usually get (most of them are pws or rinas from what I saw). I will divide this ask in separate ones bc one is just a fun theory that I know will never happen on the show (yes, why not talk also about things that are unlikely to happen just for fun) and the others are more realistic (a part of EJ's arc is included in this one).

The asks will be based on this premise: Let's say EJ figures out where he wants to go to college (and is 100% sure that he wants to go there) when it's too late for him to go the next fall, so he has to take a gap year. And for the fans that are calling him a loser if that happens, try to look at this thing this way: to me, at least, this will be a really good story to tell, especially with a character with that gpa and extracurricular activities. I have friends (just like EJ, with really good grades) who made rushed decisions about their future and went to a college (they weren't sure, but they were afraid to take a gap year) and stayed there 1-2 years and they dropped out when they realized what they wanted. I think it will be a good lesson to teach teens (who feel this pressure bc of their choice about their future) that it's ok to take a gap year and it's not the end of the world if that happens. It's better this way than making a rushed decision, then going to a college and clinging to staying there bc you'll feel like you lost even more time and end up feeling even worse and loosing more time. So, I think this will be the best way to keep EJ in the show (and keeping him still as a main character by making him help the drama department at EH, just like Sharpay did and that will be a nice callback). I am all for the idea of him pursuing a career in film directing. We see a little glimpse of that in s2 (I hoped for more but I won't blame the writers like many ppl do in this fandom bc I can see why they make some decisions (for example they have to parallel the characters life with the story told in the play; that's why they went the pw route this season and they focused on this so much; EJ is extremely similar to the beast and Gina parallels Belle's story of being away from home, and together they parallel that love story; you will see that I am not a pw from the next asks (that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy some of their moments, it just didn't click for me, that's it), but I like to see things as they are: that's why one ask will contain a theory that won't happen, it's pure delusion and I admit it), even though I would like to see different things. Ppl in this fandom should chill with the mean critics about the show, like they can tell their opinion without insulting these people's work).

Continuing with the EJ's career idea, another reason I see this happening is that he sees the talent in ppl easily (you can see that with Nini (like he believed in her soo much, he saw the potential in her when the prev drama teachers didn't), also with Carlos in the characters intro for s1: "He can srsly move"). He really enjoyed being behind the camera in ep 2x5 and according to Gina the video was really good and had emotionally impact. I would've liked for that plotline to get more focus in s2 and it feels like they will revisit it in s3 (and I really hope this will happen) with Channing (most likely) and also, maybe, with Maddox.

What I want from his arc is to figure out what he wants to do with his future and find a balance (he doesn't have to exaggerate with the ambition like he used to, but also, we should see him having a dream and going after it while also having meaningful relationships with the wildcats). I know the show seems to go more in the direction with the relationships, but I think it should go towards the balance. The character has potential to go to a great college. I really hope they won't make him stay local bc he decides he wants to be close to his friends, like friends will be there when you come back and internet exists, but your dreams are important too and esp when you have such a great potential it will really be a waste. What I like about this character is his passion (about theater and we can talk about him in the relationships too). When he's passionate about sth or sb, he gives 200%. I think it will be a waste for him to not have a storyline about having a dream. Until now, the pb with his character wasn't his ambition, it was that he exaggerated with it and he started to do bad things when doing the right thing wasn't enough. I want to see him in s3 to figure what he wants to do next and where he wants to go (I have a headcanon that he goes to NYU (this University was referenced in the show, also Miss Jenn has a mug with I <3 NY on her desk in some scenes, also during the second chance sequence)). Then, in s4 (and s5 if they get one) to work to get into that college (take some courses about film making; as I said, he can help with the drama department; he even can make a docuseries about the play/s they will do (imagine him being the guy behind the camera, it would be so funny); or he can make a short film about how much the wildcats mean to him, his found family (this will be a great way to tie together both of his arcs)). If I were in the writers room, that's what I'd do with his personal arc.

Honestly, this character has so much potential and some ppl in this fandom are sleeping on him bc of ship wars and all they want is for him to leave. If the writers want, they can make his journey interesting without wasting his potential and still keeping him around as a main character (for the rest of the series; I don't see this show having more than 6 seasons, ending with a summer one, or ending with 5 seasons with the s1-2 juniors graduating).

I will mark the next asks at the beginning with ASK (a number).

i’m going to be entirely honest rn and say that tumblr scrapped my answer when it was basically ready to post so this is probably not going to be as good as my original answer...

but omg thank you for the ask anon! it’s definitely nice to talk about something besides the main ship war going on with this show rn haha. (especially when i’m not in love with either ship) i’m probably going to answer them all separately bc they’re long, but ahhh i love a good long ask moment truly. let’s get into it!

idk if you read my mind or my posts about the fact that by the time season 3 starts there’s no way ej could still realistically be in the process of selecting a college for the fall, but thank you for that regardless haha. (decision day is may 1st, so unless it’s a waitlist admission... he should KNOW by then, and probably even if it were a waitlist he should know, depending on how early/late in summer camp is) i don’t think him taking a gap year and preparing for his future path would necessarily be a bad idea truly- in the sense that even if he knows what he wants by this point, that maybe it’d be good to take a breath first? like you say- a lot of high achievers burn themselves out with college, so maybe if they have ej and val chat and the way she talks about college being a lot kind of adds to that notion for ej of oh okay yeah maybe i’m not ready yet?

nyu could be a great idea- i personally remember back when we thought the menkies were going to be a big deal, we were sort of talking about the scholarship as probably being for ej, given he’s the one character that’s a senior, and he clearly wasn’t going to (and didn’t) get into his dream school. maybe that nyu theatre scholarship could be his path forward. but they didn’t go there and that’s okay i suppose haha.

if they were going to have filmmaking be ej’s passion, i do wish they could’ve shown it a little better in s2, but you’re right that they could work towards it in season 3. particularly with a docuseries being produced at the camp and having the cameraman for the docuseries being a character... ej could absolutely have some chats with channing and be like hmmm this could be something i actually pursue.

as to the ej seeing talent in others aspect, idk if you know this or not anon, but in ej’s original character description, (like- first round, big red’s got a crush on nini for some reason, original character description), one of the things that was said that he was going to be more of a producer type than meant to be the leading man like he’s been previous to the series. so they probably were going to do more with that whole aspect of ej seeing nini’s potential talent than they did.

ambition in this show can pretty consistently be seen as a bad thing, (except for with nini, but i think the reason she’s allowed / encouraged to be ambitious is because she didn’t ever believe in herself before), but you’re right when you say that ambition isn’t the problem with ej. the problem was how he went about it. ej’s a rachel berry type in season 1 in a certain sense for sure. ej knowing what he wants to do and working towards that goal would be really fulfilling for his character. because i’m 100% in agreement with you when you say that ej should be allowed to go to a great school for college. i don’t want to sit back and watch ej choose his friends (and/or potentially his girlfriend- but especially if it’s his girlfriend. to quote my dad, ‘there are girls at every college’) over his dreams. i know this show emphasizes relationships over ambitions, and having good friends is more important than anything else, but- in fairness... ej could make some EXCELLENT friends in college (ones who don’t have perspectives on him tainted by his past even), we just won’t get to see all of that. and like you say- they can absolutely stay in contact while he’s gone, plus they’ll all be there when he comes home to visit.

there’s a balance to be struck- between dreams and goals and cherishing your interpersonal relationships. i think ej can have both. and honestly- i’d rather see way less of ej on screen and let him have a fulfilling life beyond high school than to see way more of him on screen and have them waste his potential as a person to be able to do well for himself. is he really getting to traverse his own path if he just goes to the safety school in utah he didn’t really want to go to in the first place, or is that another version of being stuck like duke was?

also if they do the gap year (which idk if i necessarily anticipate, with how heavy handed disney usually is about College, but could be an interesting plot if handled well), they would have more time to show ej getting actually ready for college, rather than the Duke is EJ’s one personality trait and yet it’s still not as fleshed out as it could’ve been thing from early season 2. (i get what they were going for, but i do think it could’ve been executed a bit better.)

i will add quickly i’m very much team five seasons. i think it’s the best place to wrap up the story, though it’s definitely a shame the original four juniors probably won’t all graduate together with nini probably leaving the show after this season. their graduation is the easiest place to end the series without dragging it out too much. they don’t want it to go on so long it turns into glee. i know tim originally talked about wanting maybe seven seasons. (he’s also said five, but he def did say seven at one point.) and i think that could’ve been neat- but... i think five is more realistic at this point for a lot of reasons. i definitely don’t want this show to end in the middle of the school year though so i really hope they get a fifth season.

also- i agree that people could be nicer. 100%. both to those who work on the show and to each other.

#hsmtmts #ej caswell #hsmtmts: ej caswell #answered #anonymous #//this was fun- i'll try to work on the other parts in a bit but i need to go eat

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thedcvilherself · 7 months

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♡ WANTED PLOT: based on this gif, big age gap will be present ♡ POTENTIAL CONNECTION(S): great uncle, adopted relations, grand daughter’s best friend, taboo connections ♡ ALT. MUSES: deacon

fitzgerald had managed to convince her father to let her stay with him for the holidays. he had just moved into his own lake house, away from the city, that he had been renovating for years. preparing them for when he retired from work. they all made the case of the entire family spending the holidays together at his newly built home but fitz argued that he wanted to get to know her better. he has been living in another country for years, and never really got to spend time with her and her alone. they thought it was sweet of him to take the initiative to strengthen their relationship. if they only knew the plans he had for their sweet angel. “you’ve been a good girl for grandpa, have you?” he chuckled against their lips. his body caressing her n.aked b.ody, stra.ddling him. this is one of the perks of being away from the city life, he can have her completely bare out like this at his front lawn with no one to see. “been keeping my c.um inside both of your holes?“ his hand moving behind her to press against her b.utt p.lug, while the other car.essed her cr.otch which was also pl.ugged. “you know that’s what you have to do if you want daddy to br.eed you.“

it was her parents fault, their distance and coldness leaving the girl vulnerable to something of this sort, to falling into the clutches of the first person to offer her a shred of love and intimacy. at first, the getaway had been not only a welcome vacation for a girl that had just graduated, but the time away while also getting to better now the grandfather she remembered merely in flashes. now, she was all but intoxicated by his presence, blissfully unaware that a world beyond him and their little oasis existed. her bare frame is embraced by the breeze coming in off the water but she’s focused on the heat that’s radiating from the body below her, lips working gently against his own, always eager for the taste of him. “y-yes, sir.” her words release with a pathetic whine, head dipping to bury itself into the crook of his neck, hips jutting forward as the pressure reminds her of just how full she is. what had just weeks ago been virgin holes were now stuffed with fitzgerald’s seed and the toys he had wedged in place to keep it there, a perfect dump for his need. “i feel so full.” but despite the words, she’s grinding back against his touch, her own hand drifting under the material of his shirt to massage at his chest as lips press appreciative kisses into his neck. “i feel so much of your love, grandpa.”

#[ marley ; threads ]#[ marley & fitzgerald ; threads ]#[ devouredher ; threads ]#[ devouredher ; thread 003 ]

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folkloreguk · 3 years

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💌🧸 Brother's Best Friend

A/N: Got this request a while ago and now I'm wondering why I've never written this trope before bc this was so fun??? Lmk how you liked it! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, size/strength kink??, choking, dom!bias (it’s kinda playful tho), brother's best friend!au, sneaking around, play fighting, lowkey getting caught but not directly?

words: ~ 4.1 k

disclaimer: I don’t mean for the age gap to be gigantic…I’m talking about anything from 1-2 years maximum tbh!!! Anything else would be weird and I’m not about that! They’re also both obviously consenting adults!

[H/N means 'his (bias) name']

In youreyes, your first meeting had been a disaster. The new spider man movie had been released only days ago, and you were adamant on seeing it. And to your luck, your older brother and his best friend had already made plans to watch it together. As a little sister, you were treated like the baby of the family, and it didn’t matter that you were far from being an infant anymore. So naturally, your brother had been condemned by your parents to bring you along. He declared his distaste in your presence by attempting to ignore you, but you were used to that. Just like you were aware of his bad moods, you knew he could change within minutes and magically turn into the sweetest, most caring big brother you could wish for.

Whatever. You didn’t need his approval to enjoy the trip to the movie theater, you told yourself. Had it not been for his best friend, who you hadn’t seen in ages. H/N and you had never properly spoken before, and the last time you saw him he had been an awkward, prepubescent boy who had appeared at your door to pick up your brother for a playdate. There was no trace of immaturity now. Instead, it was you who had morphed into an awkward, shy mess at the sight of him.

His ‘hello’ had a warm and deep melody to it which swooped you up in his aura so suddenly, you had no time to prepare. Had his smile always been this stupidly charming? Hell, it was so bright, you had to meticulously inspect the ground every time he sent a grin your way. When before you hadn’t felt guilty for being a bother, you now sure did. What impression would you leave, trailing behind the older boys like a lost puppy? What would he take you for? The annoying little sister who didn’t have friends of her own? The mood-killer, who wouldn’t understand any of the boys’ inside jokes? The anti-social, weird girl who was obsessed with fictional men, like people loved to belittle teenage girls with normal interests?

As things turned out, his initial opinion of you was quite the opposite. If only you could have spied into his brain, it would have saved you a landslide of worry. Although your brother took up all of H/N’s attention before the movie started, he noticed you a good amount. To be precise, you blew him away at first sight. Your cute laugh won him over in a matter of seconds and he liked that your merch sweater could have been stolen straight out of his own closet. He didn’t want to feel too smug, but the way you diverted your eyes away from him whenever he looked in your direction only boosted his confidence further.

Your brother might have warned him. Stay away from her. She’s off limits for you. But not a thousand vicious, older brothers could have kept him from trying to get to you. It was up to you, after all, whether you wanted him around or not, and not to your brother. From that day on, H/N didn’t skip out on a chance to see you, even if it meant merely an exchange of a few words, or a simple greeting. And to his luck, you turned out to be equally as enraptured by him.

There was something about the untouchable, the forbidden, that attracted him to you even more. Plus, you were simply too precious to forget about. One morning, you dropped off a beanie at his place, which he had left at your house after meeting with your big brother the previous day. When he had asked if he could drive you to school as a thank you, you happily accepted. You had marked that day as the first day of your new life. First, it was harmless flirting. To be honest, you were under the impression he was merely messing with you. Because you were the cute little sister of his best friend. Because you would turn into an awkward shell of a person who had lost all ability to articulate, and your cheeks would burn as if they were on fire, whenever he charmed you.

But the flirting slowly reached newer levels, and before you knew it you were discussing your sexual fantasies over text messages and giving him bedroom eyes as you opened the front door for him. “H/N’s here!” you would then shout to your big brother. Then you would watch the two boys walk off to your brother’s room, pondering why life had to be this way for you. It wasn’t fair. Siblings were supposed to share, right? Why did you have to wait your turn until after midnight, when no one would notice, to spend time with H/N?

But to H/N, the sneaking around in the middle of the night and the secret messages you sent to each other, it all added to the excitement. Surely, there were days on which he wished he could just break the truth to your brother. The impact it could have on their friendship was enough intimidation for him to refrain, though. Things were better off this way, for now.

Today was no exception to your usual lies. When your brother asked if you would go out with him to do some shopping, you had played the victim and feigned a stomachache. Your parents wouldn’t be home all weekend. You’d have been stupid to waste a perfect opportunity like that. Who knew when you could have H/N in your bed the next time? Normally, you were restricted to his car, or to his bed in the dark of night. Yes, those places had something enticing at first glance. But the backseat of a car was only enjoyable for so many clandestine meetings. So today you notified him of your golden opportunity before your brother had even walked out the door.

The moment H/N texted you that he was outside your home, you opened the front door and dragged him to your room.

“Are you in control today, little one?” he asked, closing the bedroom door after you.

“Why are you asking that?” you replied, not wanting to talk at all but rather do so much more productive things.

“I don’t know…perhaps because you haven’t let me say a word since I came through the door,” he said.

“Right. Maybe I’m planning on tying you up, blindfolding you, and torturing you with ice and wax,” you joked in a casual tone, despite not usually requesting such graphic ideas.

“I don’t know if I’d let you do that,” he grinned with raised eyebrows. “Besides, I know you’d rather be at the receiving end of that. It’s a sweet idea, though. If we had some more time…”

“Think you could get away from me if I tied you up?” you said, but he was towering over you with the calmness of a king who knew he reigned over the situation.

“We both know I’m stronger than you, doll,” he said. You didn’t like it when boys called you weak. But you’d let it slide, knowing he was only joking and would never underestimate you outside of the bedroom. He put his lips right up to yours, so you felt his breath on them. His fingers came up to cup your face, but then slowly inched to your neck. When they closed around your neck, putting the slightest amount of pressure on your skin, you whimpered quietly.

“Need reminding?” he asked. As much pent-up frustration you had, and as much as your stomach was flipping upside down from how badly you needed him, you just had to play with him. You knew it would make for more fun.

“I think- “ you started, with a grin. Then you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, until he was stumbling. Although caught off guard, he was quick to pull you along with him as he fell onto your bed. You landed on top of him with a small squeal.

“Go on, let’s see who can throw the other off the bed first,” he teased with a superiority that only spurred you on. Then again, you would always be in the mood for the oldest childhood game you had ever known. Only now it wasn’t your brother, but his best friend you were playing against. It added a layer of excitement, and after only seconds, giggles had overtaken you as you struggled in his grip.

“No tickling is allowed,” you said. He nodded obediently with a smirk that told you he might not abide by your rules.

At first, you had attempted to hold him down by his arms. But your legs tangled, and he pushed his chest up against yours, like he was about to flip you over. Your plan seemed to be working only momentarily. You groaned a little as he grabbed your wrists swiftly and held his stance against your attempt to pull his upper body to the side.

“Cute,” he said. That’s when you realized, he was barely struggling, barely trying, even. While you were giving your most, he smirked like he was watching a kitten trying to fight a lion. It was child’s play to him, keeping you in check. Literally. With an annoying expression of amusement on his face, he let you have the upper hand for a while. Then, as if you had never had an ounce of advantage, he turned it around and pulled you into him. His eyes suggested he might just send you tumbling down onto the floor any moment now. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to give up so easily. Taking your chances, you let go of his arms and moved sideways, so you could have your go at pushing him towards the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he bear-hugged your body and rolled you both over. Before you could protest or defend yourself, your arm was dangling off the side of your bed and if you had moved a tiny bit further, you would have slid off the bedsheets and right onto your carpet. It was his turn to straddle you now. As if his actions hadn’t been enough declarations of his strength, he pinned your wrists to the bed above your head and gave you a challenging smirk.

“I was going to let you win, doll. But you weren’t trying hard enough,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do? He had you completely immobilized. “Just let it go, then. We get it, you’re super strong and super big and the coolest,” you said.

He seemed to take an instant liking to your declaration. “Say it again. This time minus the eye-rolling, sugar.”

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, trying to avoid the laughter that was threatening to come out. Could he read in your gaze how badly you wanted him to kiss you already? If he could, he wasn’t acting on it. Instead, he bent to the crook of your neck and spoke.

“Does it turn you on that I can overpower you?” his breath fanned your ear and you had to close your eyes to control yourself.

“Yes. Because I trust you,” you answered truthfully. The corner of his lips curled into a cocky grin.

“You know what? I think I’d rather you stay in bed with me instead of throwing you on the floor. There’s so many things we can do up here, isn’t that right, little one?” His lips brushed over your cheek and then over your lips as he spoke. The nickname had always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. When he finally enveloped your lips in a kiss, you swore you could feel an electric spark jump between the two of you. The mellowness of it turned into hunger rapidly, and as soon as his tongue flicked over your bottom lip, you whimpered like you hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Needy, are we?” he asked, running his hand up your sides and underneath your shirt. He could say that again. “Let’s get these off, then.”

The seconds in which you pulled off your clothes and couldn’t hang on his lips and feel his skin on your body should have been considered a form of torture in itself. Then, time always went by so much slower than usually.

When you had both shed off your clothes, he climbed back on top of you. Instead of straddling your hips he was now resting between your legs. There was nothing separating you from him, and it was apparent not only through the body heat that radiated off him. He reached down and whilst peppering kisses on your chest, slid his fingers through your slick arousal that was pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he said in surprise, but couldn’t hide his approval and self-confidence in his voice.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes but simultaneously fighting the urge to moan at the smallest of touches he was teasing your with. “I’m so horny. Can’t we skip foreplay?”

“Poor doll,” he said. “I should’ve come over earlier, huh?”

“You know that wasn’t possible,” you said. With a desperate look, you pleaded him silently.

“I wanna taste you,” he said, but your put your hand on his cheek softly.

“Maybe later?” you said. “Please, I need to have you inside of me. Now.”

“You’re extra cute when you’re this needy,” he smiled. “Are there still condoms in your nightstand?”

You nodded and had never moved so fast to open a drawer in your life. Pretending to have any patience left, you waited for him to roll on the rubber.

“I love the way you look at me,” he said. “When you’re waiting for me. Could watch you for hours.”

“God, I hope you won’t. Come here, please?” you replied, making him chuckle. He lined himself up with your core, but then made no inclination to move ahead. His dark eyes and little head tilt told you everything.

“Don’t mess with me anymore,” you whined, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Do it. H/N.”

“Beg for it.” His words twisted something in the pit of your stomach. Although you were burning with hunger, you could never say no to him. Then again, you were curious to see what would happen if you did.

“What if I don’t? Don’t you want to fuck me as much as I want it?” you challenged him. Something glinted in his eyes, and you knew you shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I can always do this,” he said, and you followed his eyes down his body and to where he had wrapped his hand around his cock. Slowly, he jerked himself off, and you weren’t sure he was biting his lip because of the feeling or to discompose you. His small sigh should’ve been caused by you. This wasn’t what you had wanted. His tip was right by your slit. He could’ve pushed his length in so easily, and yet he wasn’t. Debating what to say, you kept your eyes trained on his hard member that looked so delicious in his hands. His deep groans rang in your ears. It didn’t take long for you to cave.

“Fuck. That should be me around you,” you said. “That should be my pussy you’re fucking and not your hands. Please.”

“Isn’t that right?” he said.

“Yes. Please, fuck me. I would feel so much better than your hands, and you know it. Please,” you whined. “I need you right now H/N. Please.”

You added another ‘please’ – for good measure – because the way his tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips could make you say anything if it would get him to fuck you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Think you can take me?”

“Yes, yes-, I can! Please, fuck me,” you said in a waterfall of words, and he chuckled handsomely.

“Good girl,” he said, running a gentle hand over your head. “If it’s too much you let me know.”

“As always.”

The tip of his cock gently pushed into your core, making you hold your breath as he entered you slowly. It caused you to feel every inch with every second. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you sighed gratefully at the relief.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. The carefulness in his thrusts paired with his moon eyes at you only remained that way for a few seconds. Then, he straightened up and grabbed your hips to drag you in closer. You moaned helplessly when he almost pulled out completely, so slowly it almost made you crazy, only to slam his length into you until his tip brushed against the deepest spot inside of you. It was an action he repeated over and over, until you were reduced to a puddle of desperate whimpers, and you clasped the bedsheets in your hands tightly.

“You like it this way, little one?” he asked. He was apparently finding enjoyment in your reaction. How you could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, your eyeballs threatened to roll to the back of your head. How your fingers clenched around the closest plushie, and you cradled it against your chest in bliss.

“Yes- fuck,” you said. “Feels so good.”

Of course, right as you said this, he had to change things up. His thrusts turned lazy and messy as he leaned backwards slightly. With an equally lazy demeanor, his thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Let me hear you. Say my name,” he said, and you quietly moaned his name. You adored the way it sounded, voiced like this, with barely more than a breath underneath your soft tone. Now and then, his cock slipped out of you, making you clench around nothing and furthermore had you going completely out of your mind. When he would push himself into your opening again, it felt as if it was the first time he was entering you today. Except you felt it repeatedly, each time as incredible as the previous. Your mouth hung open, rendered speechless except for the little moans and whimpers sounding from your throat. There was a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, tying firmer with each passing minute.

As if he could read your mind, he decided then he was done with his sweet torture of teasing you to an orgasm. You couldn’t be mad at him, though, because what he had planned was just as perfect, if not better. His hands wandered to their original place on your sides, and he began to snap his hips into yours at a faster pace. A small cry of surprise left your lips, while he only smirked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Impulsively, you lifted your legs a little, intensifying the feeling of his member roughly dragging through your velvet walls.

“H/N, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Me too,” he replied, not slowing down for a second.

His broad frame towering over your body was a sight you would never get enough of and his gazes at you were hot enough that they could have stopped your heart in its tracks. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and there was a thin sheet of sweat on his neck. It all just made him more breathtaking to you. The slight pain from his nails digging into the skin on your waist was staggering, and you could barely wait to see the masterpiece of marks he would leave tonight.

You were a moaning mess, flying on cloud nine and simultaneously overwhelmed by his treatment of you. It clouded your mind at took over your whole body like you were made for him to fuck you. His length filled up your tight hole and he did it with such force that your whole body rocked into your mattress in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. He let go of your waist then and supported himself on his arm by the side of your head. When his other hand went to your neck you shuddered in anticipation.

“You should see yourself with my hand around your throat,” he said. “So pretty, little one.”

“We can do it in front of a mirror sometime- ,” you suggested, but were cut off at the end of the sentence as his fingers tightened on your neck. Instantly, the effect of it hit you. The lack of oxygen made your head swim in a sea of pleasure and the unrelenting desire to come. Through fluttering eyelids, you peeked up at him. The way he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw, the gorgeous shape of his collarbones and shoulders – you sometimes wondered if he was even real. Every so often he loosened his grip on you. When he did, you took gulps of air and then instantly whined for him to choke you again.

“Let go for me,” he said. “Show me your pretty face when I make you come. I’m fucking you well, aren’t I?”

You nodded as well as you could when he was gripping your throat and you couldn’t breathe properly at the moment. It didn’t matter you couldn’t talk. He was probably not expecting you to answer, either way. In a pleasure-induced trance, you closed your eyes and let it happen, like he had asked it from you. Your hazy consciousness barely registered that he was reaching his high with you. Too overcome were you, with your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your back arching off the mattress. He had let go of your neck and was riding out his own orgasm with sloppy thrusts that only sent you into another frenzy and had you whimpering his name softly. When he had finished too, he slowed down and pulled you into a gentle kiss, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

“That was amazing,” he said, and with a blissful hum you nodded. Your lips changed into a pout when he rolled off you and got up. You were tired of sending him back home so quickly. As he discarded the condom in the bin, you put on your most enchanting eyes, so he would have no other choice.

“Stay a little longer, please,” you asked. You knew he wanted to, as well. So although he was aware that your brother could return at any moment, he tumbled back into bed with you.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “Mhm…you’re so perfect to cuddle, baby.” His embrace was warm and his scent comforting, as he hummed a lovely melody. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair lulled you right into a light sleep. You were awoken rather abruptly, and with half a heart attack.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my charger- “ your brother’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and you wondered if you would have to pack up and leave the country after this sort of embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, knowing well enough it was the dumbest thing you could have said. But who could blame you? You had only woken up two seconds ago.

“Really?” your brother asked. “Because I hear H/N sneak into our house so often lately, I’m starting to wonder if his parents threw him out.”

His tone was surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” H/N said to your brother. “I thought you’d hate me and that we’d be over as friends.”

“I know I told you once to leave Y/N alone. But now…I guess it’s cool. She’s been in a great mood lately, and if that’s thanks to you, I think I can approve of you two. Although I’m not looking forward to being a third wheel, I think I can get used to it if I try hard enough,” your brother said. You couldn’t believe your ears, and involuntarily smiled like a fool. No more hiding. No more secrets.

“I stole your charger. I’m sorry,” you said then, making your brother roll his eyes. “It’s by the sofa in the living room.”

“Great. I needed a reason to leave anyway,” your brother said. “I might approve of you, but this situation is still too awkward. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, H/N?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy in your bed said.

“You’ll see me too!” you added as a joke, as your brother already walked away from the door.

“Unfortunately I will!” your brother shouted, with the unnerving tone only a big brother could possibly muster.

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

MR. REIGNS

Prompt: Requested by nonny

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, degradation (name calling), flirting, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @wickedsunfire , @akiko-tanaka , @aerynscrichton , @sassymox , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @reigns-5sos , @lustyromantic , @auawdo , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @nicolewoo , @writtingrose , @bayley-no-friends

Notes: Disclaimer - For respect purposes, I’ll be using a fictional name for Roman’s daughter on this fic. If you’d like to check out my other works, you can find them on my Masterlist

It’s finally Senior Year - and what a fucking relief that is! No more stressful and endless studying hours, no more busting our asses off for mediocre grades, no more shitty frat parties “and last - but certainly not least- no more breaking up with asshole boyfriends at said crappy parties!

I don’t like younger guys. They’re inexperienced, get flustered easily, and don’t care whatsoever about reciprocating pleasure towards their girlfriends or hookups! I like older men...there's something about them that’s just perfect. “When I first met Amber Reigns, I never imagined that I would be blessed with such an amazing best friend. That’s why I knew it was wrong to have the hots for her father, but c’mon! Have you seen the man? He’s delicious! And I’m made of flesh and blood, therefore I have my weaknesses too. And Mr. Reigns is one of my biggest weaknesses.

“Y/N” Amber peeked her head inside my dorm room “Are you ready? My dad’s waiting for us in the parking lot”

“Yeah, I got everything I need” I said while putting on my backpack

“Do you mind going to the car? I’ll be right behind you, I just need to leave some books at the library, because if I don’t they’ll fine me like twenty dollars” She rolled her eyes in annoyance

I giggled “Sure. But don’t take too long flirting with the library boy” I responded in a teasing tone

She stuck her tongue out and left.

I made my way towards the parking lot and saw him standing there, leaning sexily against his pickup truck. He was wearing an extremely tight black tank top, which did nothing but accentuate his rippling muscles and tanned skin that were on full display. The intricate patterns of his tattoo could be seen from afar, the way the black lines molded to his skin like a shield never failed to turn me on, and a pair of black joggers caressed his strong thighs beautifully. His long, black, silky hair was tied up in a tight knot at the back of his head....the man was a fucking sight for sore eyes!

“Hello, Y/N” He greeted with a smile

“Mr. Reigns” I said shyly

He grabbed my backpack and placed it in the trunk of his car “How are you?”

“I’m good, sir. How are you?”

“Better now” He winked and smirked. And I almost came in my pants

“Where’s Amber?”

“She went to the library to return some books, sir”

“Don’t I get a hug?” He smiled

I awkwardly hugged him as I felt the smell of his cologne filling up my lungs and this weird feeling of wholesomeness took over me

“Let’s get inside the car, it’s too hot out here” He laughed

Amber had invited me to spend this holiday weekend with her family, and since I wasn’t feeling much in the mood to go home, I said yes. The only thing I didn’t know was that she planned on going to Mr. Reigns’ house instead of her mom’s house. Before I could fantasize in my daydreams for too long, Amber had returned from the library and hopped into the vehicle.

“Who will be spending the weekend with us?” Amber asked as she fastened her seatbelt

“Your uncles will be coming tomorrow afternoon with your cousins. Your brother decided to go to his girlfriend’s parents, and your sister is coming over on Sunday” Mr. Reigns replied as he turned onto the highway leading to his home.

During the two hour long ride, Mr. Reigns and Amber spent most of the trip conversing animatedly, occasionally asking me a question or two to keep me from feeling too left out, but I let them mostly catch up amongst themselves.

When we got to his place it was the end of the afternoon, and Mr. Reigns went to the kitchen to cook us dinner. I took the opportunity to shower and change into some clean clothes, nothing fancy though, just a pair of yoga pants and a gray tank top. While Amber was taking one of her famously long baths, I got bored and decided to go downstairs to see what Mr. Reigns was cooking.

“Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirked

“Amber is taking a bath” I rolled my eyes in fake annoyance

“Oh great” He grunted, but a smile danced on his lips “That will be quick” He joked, and I laughed in response

“So when is your girlfriend coming?” I asked nonchalantly and leaned against the kitchen island as he chopped some carrots

“Girlfriend?” He chuckled “I know nothing about that”

“How is that possible?” I asked in disbelief

“I don’t need someone in my life in order to be happy, Y/N”

“I’m not saying you do, Mr. Reigns. I’m just saying I find it hard to believe that a man like you doesn’t have a girlfriend”

“And why aren’t YOU spending the holidays with your boyfriend?” He teased

“Boyfriend? I know nothing about that” I mocked

He cackled “And why not? Maybe a boy in college wants to be your boyfriend?”

“I don’t like young guys” I shrugged

“Oh really?” He scooted closer “What do you like then?”

“I like older men”

“How old?” He flirted

The vixen part of my brain woke up once I saw the fire in his eyes “Around your age”

“My age?”

I nodded

“And what does a twenty two year old little girl like you know about men my age?” He licked his lips

“Oh Mr. Reigns...I know a lot” I smirked

………………………………………………………………………………………..

We went to sleep late that night, so the next morning I didn’t even hear Amber calling for me so we could go to the grocery store. When I slowly opened the door of the guest bedroom, I heard Mr. Reigns saying:

“I’ll stay here with her and you go to the store, because God forbid if I forget to buy whatever is your addiction at the moment” He chuckled

“Dad, stop!” She giggled “You’re making me sound like a terrible person, AND it’s Twinkies, ok?”

“Again? I thought it was chocolate with nuts”

“Nope, it’s Twinkies now, and just for that, I’ll buy an extra box just to piss you off” She laughed deviously and left out the door.

When her car left towards the highway, I saw Mr. Reigns going up the stairs and coming towards my guest bedroom. I quickly went to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth.

Mr. Reigns slowly opened the door of my room as I was leaving the bathroom.

“So you’re awake?”

“I woke up when Amber was leaving”

“Why didn’t you go to the store with her?”

“Wasn’t feeling like it. Why are you in my room, Mr. Reigns?”

“I came to check on you”

“Why? Do I need someone watching over my sleep?” I laughed

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok, Y/N”

With a smirk on my lips, I said “So you had no other intentions AT ALL?”

“Would you like me to have other intentions?” He chuckled

“Who wouldn’t?”

“You know this is wrong, right?”

“If I heard it correctly, Mr. Reigns, you were the one who wanted to stay behind, and you are the one who came up here” I shrugged

“Touché” He pushed me down on the bed, and covered my body with his

“If it’s so wrong, why are you doing it, sir?”

“Because” He licked his lips “Everything that is forbidden tastes sweeter, don’t you think?”

I giggled while my hands dipped inside his white t-shirt “That’s your shitty excuse?” And chuckled “C’mon, I know you can do better than that”

He cackled “Maybe...or maybe it’s the truth” His hands pulled my satin shorts down “I’ve thought about this ever since I first saw you”

“So why did it take you so long to do something about it?”

“I wanted to make sure you felt the same” His lips brushed against mine

“We better hurry up before someone gets here”

“It takes two and a half hours to get to the store and back, baby. We’ve got plenty of time” He smirked and kissed my lips deeply.

His full lips tasted like caramel coffee, something he drank every morning without a fail. I undid his perfect bun and let his black, silky hair fall upon his shoulders as we kissed. Moaning into the kiss, I pulled his hair while I wiggled my hips, which made him groan.

“So eager” He slapped my ass “I like that. Makes me wanna fuck you even harder”

He took my wrists and locked them on top of my head while rubbing his bulge against my core.

“Please, daddy” I moaned “Please fuck my pussy”

He growled at my pleading and pulled his joggers down quickly. Roman teased my clit with his tip, sliding it up and down my folds, applying more pressure every time he hit my little nub.

“No more teasing, Mr. Reigns... Please...”

Roman smirked and slid in me with one soft thrust.

“Fuck” We moaned together

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he filled my core like nothing else. His size was beyond perfect to me and I couldn’t hold back my moans of pleasure any longer.

“That’s my good little slut, moan for the one who owns this pussy” He pulled all the way out, until just the tip was in, and then he went in again with a rough thrust

“Oh yes, Mr. Reigns. Keep going please” I moaned loudly

He gripped me by the neck and chuckled “Such a needy whore! I love seeing what I can do to you. The power I have over you...How you lose yourself while I fuck you” He slapped my ass vigorously “You’ve been waiting a long time to have me in you, haven’t you, my sweet whore?”

“Yes, sir” I panted

“Then tell me! Who’s my filthy little slut?”

“Me, daddy”

He snarled before fucking me faster “Say it!”

“I’m your filthy little slut, sir” Tears started to gather in my eyes, as I could feel overstimulation being so close

“Then cum for me, like a filthy, little, slut” He whispered in my ear, while pinching my clit.

It didn’t take him long to reach his high, and Roman quickly pulled out and spilled his seed on my mound.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a sweet kiss

“C’mon, let’s get cleaned up” Roman looked up at the clock and continued “And if we’re quick enough in the shower, we can have another round before someone gets here”

He picked me up in his arms, bridal style and whispered

“I still need to taste this pussy or else I’m gonna become a mad man” He smirked when I gasped

And ran towards the bathroom.

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated ❤️😘

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #masochist writes

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fantasy au #bts soulmate au #bts historical au #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff

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frenchbreads-writing · 3 years

Note

Can I request a enji x male reader? Where the reader is much younger than him (maybe around beginning 20, mid 20) and is worried that enjis kids won't like him/are uncomfortable with him. So Enji has to comfort his s/o ;; that'd be really nice. You're writing is so good!!

Hello, I’m back and I’ve come with a treat!

I just wanna remind y’all I’m super close to 1k and when that happens I’ll hopefully have something concrete to celebrate!!

So anyways I won’t take up much more of your time

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Todoroki Enji (46) x Male Reader (22)

Words: 927

Warning(s): Age gap 20+ years

Requests: Closed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I want you to meet my children.”

You dropped the piece of food that you were holding mid-bite, staring at Enji with your eyes and mouth wide open.

“Huh?”

The two of you were having a rare date at one of the good restaurants that you and Enji had often been to before.

Enji sat up.

“Well, we have been together for quite some time and I figured that now would be as good a time as any to introduce you to my family.”

You were still speechless.

“I think— I uh need a moment to um, think sorry Enji, excuse me.”

He watched you stand up and rush out of the booth towards the restrooms.

Enji ran his hand over his face and sighed.

He felt so stupid. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up such a serious proposition on what you thought was supposed to be just a simple date.

“I need to apologize to him.”

You paced back and forth in the bathroom.

You meeting his family?

More specifically his kids.

It’s not like you don’t want to meet them because you do, you really do.

It’s more because the reason is that you’re half his age.

How would they react to seeing their father dating a man who looks to be old enough to be his son?

You covered your face with your hands.

“Maybe it was a bit much walking out on him like that, I should apologize.”

You made your way to the door but as you were about to reach for the handle the door swung open almost hitting you if you hadn’t taken a step back.

Now you’re face-to-face with Enji.

“Enji, I was just heading back.”

He stayed silent as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Y/n I would like to apologize for thrusting such a heavy question upon you completely out of the blue like that.”

“Enji—“

Enji stiffly bowed down to face the ground.

“I never want you to feel pressured to do something that you don’t want to—“ “Enji—“ “So you can forget my request, you ca—mmph“

“Enji!”

You silenced him by covering his mouth with your hands. You moved your hands from his mouth and placed them gently on his shoulders.

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet your family, it’s just.. I’m nervous.”

He raised his hands and firmly grasped your waist

“Well, it’s understandable to be nervous when meeting a loved one's family.”

You sighed and lightly patted his shoulders.

“It’s not just nervousness Enji.”

He looked at you confused.

“I’m also afraid that if I met them that they wouldn’t approve of our relationship because I mean, look at us, we’re not exactly what people would call a normal couple.”

Your grip on his shoulders tightened

“Because paired with your past there’s also the fact that I’m almost half your age, I look like I should be Fuyumi’s boyfriend instead”

You sighed.

“I just don’t want them to hate me before they can get a chance to really know me because I’m honored that you want me to meet your family but I’m scared.”

Enji reached up and placed his hand on your chin gently turning your head to face him. He leaned down and softly pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss lasted for a minute and he could feel you start to relax against him.

Breaking the kiss he pressed his forehead against yours and cupped your face with his much larger hands stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You don’t have to meet them now there’s no need to rush, we’ll do it whenever you’re ready however long it takes.”

The two of you stood there in each other’s embrace.

Until the sound of a toilet flushing interrupted the silence.

Both of you jumped apart and watched as one of the doors to one of the stalls opened and a man walked out, stiff, and avoiding eye contact with either of you.

Oh right, you were standing in the bathroom.

The silence was almost unbearable as the man quickly washed his hands, you and Enji standing sheepishly by the door.

When the man finished he nervously walked closer to you guys.

“U-Um excuse me.”

Both of you quickly stepped out of the way.

“Sorry.”

The man quickly rushed out of the restroom.

You and Enji stood there in silence for a moment before you snorted.

He looked up in time to see you double over with laughter, he couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face and the chuckle he let out.

When you finished laughing and caught your breath you leaned against Enji using him as an armrest.

“Whew, that was great.”

You went back into silence for a moment before to took a deep breath.

You stepping towards Enji and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What do you say we, uh, grab the check and you can walk me home hm?”

He placed his hands on your waist and nodded.

Smiling you gave him a quick peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“Alright, well I don’t know about you but I would rather not spend the rest of my day off standing around in a public restroom.”

You opened the door.

“See ya.”

You waved and stepped out.

Enji again watched you go but his time with a smile on his face.

Chuckling he followed suit.

“Wait for me you brat!”

“Hurry and keep up then old man!”

He no doubt wanted you to be the one to meet his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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ilysmxiao · 3 years

Text

scarred palms | xiao x reader

summary : xiao had told you the story of the scars on the skin that showed, perhaps he was insecure of so, as he was shy to speak of such stories. as one wouldn’t expect, words shared amoungst humans were rarely ever original, though, it was the first he had ever heard such words . character(s) : xiao warnings : mentions of self harm. tho this is comfort !! a/n : came up w this and thought it would be nice !! pls send me some nice requests, rn i mainly write for zhongli, xiao, and kazuha -- though, i can try out other characters! i need to experiment w my writing pfft

“ it’s the way you speak, forming words so easily. i think of the way you think, it keeps me from falling asleep. “ °· ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ·°

it had been a rough night for xiao, after returning from a recent battle. he rest upon the roof of wangshu inn, settling under the stars that found their spot amongst the very place he protected. the calm, but very much alive atmosphere buzzled below -- the people finding their way back home after the small celebration they held, holding the hands of their lovers as they walked to their rooms. the thought of love was one he despised, hating the human emotions that created a home in anothers heart -- though, at the same time, he knew that he, himself, had grown ill to such a particular thing. the tiles shifted ever so slightly, as feet carefully scaled their way across them. it had become a normal thing to hear, at times at these, and the barer of who made those tiles shift was not unknown. it had become a normal routine, and to xiao, it was one he looked forward to on days such as these -- he would never admit to such, instead, hide his delighted heart from his lover when he felt the pressure of their head leaning against his shoulder, and the way they cautiously and lovingly they rubbed the back of his shoulder blades. in all of xiaos years of guarding liyue, watching many people walk along the very land he protected, seeing many pleasing faces that he had shown no care for, he had never expected one to be the fault of the feelings he had never seemingly dealt with before. one to make him feel human, almost, showing him that any person, human or not, could learn to love. as if, that anything but humans felt that emotion, more or less understood it. a question was not needed to know how the adepti was doing, nor did an answer need to suffice. after spending the time that they had with the male, seeing him come home with new scars and marks on his already tethered body, it was enough to understand how long those scars would stay with him. resting a hand upon the fresh scars, you glance at xiao, who had trained his eyes on the abyss above the two. his hand shied away from yours, retreating to the home by his side. “our scars hold meaning, yours show and hold such complicity that many would never understand -- sometimes, even i will never truly understand what you go through.” to this, xiao turned his ill gaze to his lover, curious of what else they had to say. though such words were often spoke amongst the morals he protected, he had yet to have one say such things to himself. never would he recover from his battles, his scars earning their place on the patches of skin he had, taunting him, but words of comfort from his lover would suffice and slowly take away the hurt that they held. “that takes away no meaning. no matter what you do, how many layers you wear to protect yourself from the blades colliding with your skin, you can not escape it. it is important to understand that, and while doing so, know that you can slowly heal from it.” you comfortingly reached towards xiaos hand, softly picking it up and bringing it to your lips. the feeling brought tingling sensations through his body, earning a slight shiver from so. “scars are horrible, but we all have some. they’re unavoidable. what matters is not how they were formed, but how we deal with it, and what we do from there on.” after letting go of the others hand, you raised yours slightly and brought to attention of the many that littered your own. it had been known to xiao that you had your own scars, but to his dismay and disappointment, he truly never understood how many you had. it made his heart sink, seeing how many of them were seemingly self inflicted -- he wondered why you would ever do such a thing to yourself, not understanding why mortals would hurt themselves, or how much could have lead themselves to the point to doing so. “whats the point in self loathing and wishing for better, if you won’t take steps in that direction? they’re apart of you, you can’t escape that, but you can give them meaning and make them worth seeing. my point is, you can’t hide it, don’t embrace them if you dont want to, but don’t let your scars define you. it’s a thing thats often said.., but as much as it is said, it still holds meaning. and you do not deserve to forever hold onto these things and only see them as bad, no matter where they are from, or how they were caused.” despite having multiple, loving occasions the both had shared that made their relationship ever so more beautiful, xiao felt himself grow even more attached to you, the coldness in his heart melting ever so slightly with each word you spoke. silence followed after the few words you spoke, making you begin to regret ever speaking up in the first place -- showing your vulnerable side, showcasing your own scars as if you had healed from them yourself. “i’m sorry, i rambled on,” you admit, shame contorting your expression into a unsatisfied one. though, unexpectantly, you felt a warmth engulf your body -- xiao replacing the cold breeze that comfortably sat between the gap. xiao had never been one to show his affection, finding small gestures more suitable for the feeling of love he had never fully understood. as days progressed, he began to find out more, finally beginning to realize that this what was love was. what was shown by mortals, the affection they gave each other on a day to day basis, it was only the surface; the surface being all that he knew, thinking it was just that. you had taught him that it was more than so, it was not just loving kisses and comforting hugs, it was the mutual understanding that no matter what happened, you would both be there for each other. to care for one another, to relic in the moments that would soon become history, and to cherish them as if there would be not another day to experience them. love was what you taught him, and until the day you left the day of the living, he would be sure to do what he could to show that -- even if all that he was capable of was muttering a small ‘i love you’, or giving you a hug if he could not find the correct words to show how much you meant to him. the grip he held on your shirt tightened, your arms intertwining with his to return the gesture. xiao nuzzled his face into your neck, eyes shutting tightly as he did so. a small smile formed on your lips, understanding that the other had appreciated what you said. “i love you,” xiao said quietly, breaking the small silence that had grown comfortable in the lap of your air. you could hear the slightly labored breathing escaping his lips, the warm air grazing your neck and dissipating each time he let another breath of air out. his warm body was pressed against your own, chest rising and falling until he soon calmed down. “i love you too, xiao.” in that moment, xiao’s repulsive and deprecating thoughts ceased, thinking of only you and the comfort you gave him. the silence from before returned, engulfing the area near, but this time, it was comfortable -- he could bask in your presence forever, especially in this moment. he couldn’t wish for anything better than you, in the life he had been given. although he was an adepti, prone to straying away from such putrid human feelings, he felt himself nearing acceptance of his want for such love to stay, more or less to stay beside him forevermore. xiao was unable to be healed from the horrid fate at which he had been given, but little by little, he understood that not all was bad and he could one day learn not to hate it.

#xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x reader fluff #xiao x reader comfort #genshin imagine #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin impact x reader #fluff #comfort #angst #genshin imagines

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

#spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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