#when and why did this get so many notes??
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ANT!FRAGILE – 최산
synopsis . in which you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
pairing . choi san & fem!reader
genre . smut (mdni!) fluff at the end, comfort, established relationship, idol!au, and a poor attempt of comedy.
taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡
word count . 3,1k
DISCLAIMER! unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).
NIC’S NOTES this took way too long for no reason at all (￣ヘ￣;) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional! (again, to lazy to write it properly;;)
you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.
you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.
but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?
you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.
it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.
you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?
but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.
you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.
but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.
you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.
“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.
“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.
“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.
“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.
“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.
“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.
“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”
“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.
“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”
and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you.
during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”
“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly.
“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.
“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.
“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.
“go kill yourself.” you huffed.
“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”
“touché” you agreed.
the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.
“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”
“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.
“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”
“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”
“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.
you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.
once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.
“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.
remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.
you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.
suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.
once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.
“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.
you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.
your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.
“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.
“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”
“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.
“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.
you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.
“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.
“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.
“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”
“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”
san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.
“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.
“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.
“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”
you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.
“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.
“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.
“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.
“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.
“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”
“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.
“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.
“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.
“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.
“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.
“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.
“no? let’s see if it is now,”
your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.
“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.
you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.
“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.
san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.
“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.
“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.
“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.
you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.
that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.
you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.
“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”
“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”
you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”
he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”
“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.
“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.
“babe,”
“hm?”
“shut up.”
| masterlist
#hwallazia#ateez#ateez smut#choi san#choi san smut#san smut#san x reader#choi san x reader#san fanfic#choi san imagine#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic
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ellie with a clumsy gf ୨ৎ
summary: how ellie cares for her clumsy girlfriend
content: nothing thats nsfw!! just ellie being a cutie concerned gf
notes: answer to this req!! SHES SO PUPU BABYGIRL IN THAT PIC I WANNA BITE HER JFWIBFJWKRJR. she's actually so beautiful i can't. entirely unrelated: idk how i feel about this... but i’m trying not to be like EW I HATE THIS FUCK THIS ITS SO BAD. like i dont even feel like that but we already know how i feel about this formatting. its growing on me tho
(wc 0.39k) so short i know guys i gotta dip my feet
constantly laughing but also concerned at how you manage to trip and bump and bruise yourself up on literal air
in apocalypse au, she's always been very aware of her surroundings bc of patrol and combat and stuff so she tries to keep you out of the way of things that she knows you'll bump into
always has an ice pack chilled and ready to go in the freezer in case you bump yourself real hard and it's sore because ice helps bumps not bruise right when you get them (looking at you guys clumsy ladies write that one down)
always warns you about things right as they're happening since you get into things SO FAST
like just as you're bumping into something or dropping an item she's blurting out, "wait! there's- a shirt on the floor"/"remember- that the washing machine door is open"/"baby, you're gonna drop that- just... like you did just now. you okay?"
always asks what you did to get a new bruise. she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down... but this one doesn't hurt that bad 😁" it's become like a little game
she's become sooo desensitized to any bump or bang sound in the house bc she knows its just you. not to say she doesn't care about you getting hurt--she immediately throws out a "you good?!" or "you need me?"--she just knows you know what to do: ice pack or heat compress. it's routine now.
read that low vitamin c levels make you bruise easily, so always has vitamin c rich snacks stocked up. oranges and strawberries and other fruits, always ready!
she's so stupid in love that she'll cut the fruits up into hearts or try nd make the most simple little animals with them from some mother of 3's tutorial on instagram reels and genuinely gets upset when she can't recreate them.
^ like you notice her absolutely maiming some apples and ask, "ummm why are you slicing and dicing that poor apple?" and she'll mumble, "it's supposed to be a stupid crab."
and for my ladies with darker skin where bruises aren't as visible or even just pale skin that just doesn't bruise easily, she's still just as concerned. and since there is no visible warning of a sore spot, she's hurriedly apologizing after pressing on a sore spot or laying on a tender patch.
@abbysbug @picklesarenice69
hello to my clitter critters. soooooooo erm sorry about going like basically inactive for like 2 weeks i got into the fight of a lifetime with my mother 😊 we still beefing 😊 dw tho when she's old and wrinkly i’ll have power of attorney and trust the cord WILL be plugged.
like i’m joking but as of now that bitch is an opp fr
but anywhoooo i’m back. and my dinosaur of a laptop had a health scare and i thought i was gonna have to plan a funeral for her but she went to the doctor (apple store) and she's all better. idk how it still works so well now bc my mom got this when obama was still president 😆 don't y'all worry tho this motherboard does nothing but purr we chillin (the fan turns on whenever there are too many graphics moving)
#mystellenia 𐑂°‧₊#elle answers 𐑂°‧₊#ellie#ellie tlou#tlou ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fluff#tlou#the last of us#the last of us x reader#the last of us x y/n#tlou x reader
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ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru
𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p
 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.
꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …
Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.
You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?
You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?
When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.
Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.
You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.
For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.
Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.
Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).
Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.
You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.
In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.
You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.
You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.
You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.
Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—
Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.
Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.
Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.
You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.
Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.
You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.
You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.
You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.
“I’m still in love with you y’know…”
“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.
It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.
“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”
“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.
You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.
After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?
You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.
Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.
The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.
Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.
His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.
Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.
The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.
You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.
When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.
Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.
People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?
Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.
When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo#satorugojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#gojo fanfic#gojo angst#jjk angst#jjk fluff#satoru x reader#satoru x you
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Manual Mood Ring
Summary: To keep up popularity and the Harrington reputation Steve couldn't show many emotions. That didn't mean he didn't feel them, only that he didn't always recognise what feelings he hid. So he wore rings, swapped them out according to his moods. And a few people noticed them.
Authors note: It won the poll by 1 vote and honestly I'm glad about it. In typing the other fic up I realised how not finished it is. This has been a great fic to procrastinate work with over the last couple weeks, but I'm glad with where I finished it.
/\/\
Steve would never say, except to Robin, but it all began because of Eddie and curiosity. If the guys he'd been friends with at the start of high school had paid attention, they could've worked it out too, but none of them thought twice when the week after he noticed, and accidentally cause some bullying over, Eddie's rings, Steve came in wearing one of his own.
The ring, or rather rings, he wore weren't expensive, just simple things he'd spotted in a shop window, but somehow everyone thought it was a wealth thing when they noticed it and so far as Steve heard, nobody realised there were 6 different rings he'd swap out. They definitely didn't question when he swapped them either, not even Nancy.
Robin did know. She only admitted noticing them when Steve dragged her out to buy more after the Russians took his original rings and none of the government agents mentioned finding them. She was the one who asked about why he needed multiple rings when he'd only wear one at a time.
It didn't help the assumptions they were dating when Robin insisted on taking his hand to check which ring he was wearing every time they met up after the explanation that he used them as an indication or self check-in of his mood.
/\/\
Eddie knew Steve Harrington wore a ring. When he started to the gossip in Hawkins High said his father insisted on it due to a tradition but if that was the case then the ring was too plain in Eddie’s opinion.
Then he noticed Harrington changing rings after getting a question wrong in class and was certain the rumour was wrong, even if he couldn't figure out the actual reason for it straight away. After he'd seen that first swap, it was too clear for him to notice the times that the ring got changed, especially since he decided to try and figure out why Harrington would do that.
Spotting Harrington's ring enough to tell the differences in it wasn't easy in school, especially outside of their shared classes, but a theory soon grew in Eddie's mind of them being some sort of manual mood ring. This was only backed up when he visited Scoops Ahoy once or twice over the summer.
Before the fire Eddie even thought he was close to knowing what emotions some of the rings might indicate, but they all changed after that, not even one remained the same as before and, thankfully for Eddie's curiosity, the new ones had more noticeable differences.
With all his curiosity over Harrington's rings, it confused him to realise the kids he'd brought into Hellfire seemed to know nothing of them. Once Mike even commented ' Steve would be cooler if he just wore rings like Eddie's.' as if he wasn't already wearing one constantly. Eddie could spot it glinting on Harrington's finger when he picked them up afterwards, not hidden at all.
From paying attention to those lifts and Harrington's expressions and reactions to the brats gave Eddie some clues on what colour or general shape of rings matched good or bad moods, even if he never saw the detailing on them.
Except for one.
Eddie saw one ring in detail once. Hellfire had an extra club meeting that apparently none of the kids Harrington gave a lift to had mentioned to him until he came storming through the school half panicked. Even after confirming they were safe Harrington made everyone move along the table so he could sit next to Eddie and listen until the end.
The ring that time was in a woven pattern, made of silver and Eddie was certain it meant fear or stress. It had to, given how Harrington only looked away from his kids to watch the door or, for some reason, analyse the ceiling for damage and suspiciously eye the lights.
Who knew getting an answer about one of the rings meanings could give Eddie so many more questions?
/\/\
Survival and fear were the only things going through Eddie's mind. He didn't know what happened to Chrissie or if it would happen to him next. He didn't know if he was trying to hide from that or from the town he was sure would blame him.
He definitely wasn't calm enough to recognise any of the voices yelling for him and dived into the boat as they got closer.
The conversation of the group looking for him was heard but barely understood as Eddie tried to get ready to jump up and fight or run through the hard jabs from an oar he thought was mentioned.
It wasn't the oar or the gaze of the man he pinned that broke through Eddie's fear when he decided to get out.
The hand holding the oar wore a silver woven ring. It wasn't polished and definitely showed signs of tarnishing in the indented areas and it echoed how he felt. He knew the ring and what emotion he was certain it meant.
And he knew that other rings were kept in the back pocket from classes where they'd get swapped out. Those are what he reached for now, still pinning Harrington with one hand which made it harder to separate the bronze ring that tended to be worn if he'd be joking when picking the kids up.
“Guess you're not here to have a go at me, or this would be worn.” Eddie mutters eventually into the silence that had fallen in the boathouse.
“I wouldn't do that. Dustin would never talk to me again if I did that. And how do you know anything about my rings?” Steve's words tumbled past each other, but seemed more confused now, instead of the panic he'd shown when first getting pinned.
“What rings?” Dustin demanded, somewhere behind Eddie.
Steve glanced over, “Forget the rings actually. What happened? We want to help.”
/\/\
Steve hadn't changed his ring in days.
Eddie glanced at it each time they came to give him supplies, came to try and talk him into staying with one of them despite how they'd need to hide him from parents, every time he got the change to.
It was still the silver woven effect ring.
He could only hope he'd live to see another ring take its place and was beginning to suspect Steve was hoping the same thing. A few times he'd been caught looking at the hand wearing the ring, but Steve never said anything, only brought his hand back to the pocket with the rest of them.
“You got the bronze ring wrong.” Robin commented on one of the few moments everyone else was distracted. “It's not when Steve's truly happy or whatever you think.”
Eddie glanced at her, gaze returning to Steve straight away. “What is it then?”
“Forced positivity. It's when he's struggling to believe we want him here so tries to reach out subtly for most of them.” She explained.
“And you?”
“Check his rings when I first see him so give him reassurance as needed. Although you might've changed its meaning now.” Her words sounded slow as if she was musing on the idea. “We'll see after Vecna's defeated.”
Eddie wasn't quite sure what to make of that but Robin was already over with Steve again, catching up with whatever they were working on. At least being in hiding gave him lots of time to think through her cryptic comments for breaks from panicking.
/\/\
“That's my ring.” Eddie stated. He'd been staring at the hand since waking up, originally cause it was clinging tightly and then as his memories filtered through the medication clouding his brain, to see if Steve was still stressed out. How was he meant to understand seeing his own ring being worn by Steve?
Steve's chuckle was watery, and there were tears in his eyes when Eddie looked up. “Yeah, mine now. Glad you're awake finally.”
Somehow that was what made him realise he had none of his rings on at all. “Where are the rest? What does my ring have the honour of meaning?” They felt like dumb questions but Eddie was scared to ask the more serious ones.
“Dustin's got them and your pic necklace. He'll be here as soon as visiting hours start along with at least a few of the other brats. Not sure which are seeing you first today other than him. Wayne's at the trailer salvaging what he can. Added me as an emergency contact so you wouldn't wake up alone.” Steve offered, thankfully guessing what he'd want to know first. “As for the ring, I don't know. I've been a mess, unable to figure out what I'm feeling so it's currently a question mark ring.”
That felt like a familiar feeling as Eddie blinked. He had no clue why things would need salvaging from the trailer at all. “What happened?”
The explanation carried on through the kids arriving, Dustin trying to push the rings onto Eddie and being stopped by nurses not wanting the jewellery in the way, and plenty of interruptions and additions. It covered how the attack that had left him in an induced coma to heal had only partly succeeded and everything that had come after and ended with Steve pushing his hair back into place sighing, “Thankfully most of us decided against sleeping through it all. Vecna is gone now and we're just waiting for people to wake up and heal.”
“And get Steve to explain how he's worn a ring so long without us knowing.” Dustin insisted, glaring at said man.
Eddie grinned, shaking his head alongside Steve. “It's not the king's fault if his friends don't pay attention to him. After all, I'd never spoken to him before all of this and I knew about the rings.”
“Lies.” Robin called, appearing in the doorway. “You spoke to him precisely 7 times as I never served you when you came into Scoops.”
Steve tilted his head, thinking before he shook his head at her. “Nope. He just pointed and handed over the money. I spoke to him before it all, but not the reverse. Such an unsociable customer.”
“You couldn't get Eddie Munson to talk to you? That board needed more tallies under you suck.” Robin teased, coming over and smiling at Eddie. “How are you feeling?”
For a moment it was silent as Eddie didn't realise the Steve and Robin show had finished with a question to him. “Oh, I'm – Honestly I feel like I died and this is a bizarre form of purgatory. Could be hell from the pain levels but you're all being too nice for that.”
/\/\
Robin loved Steve's rings. She saw them as a small rebellion against his parents rigid views of gender as well as a good idea for someone who wasn't often allowed to express his emotions.
Even before she knew what they showed, back when they were just co-workers and former classmates, she paid attention to the rings and the ways Steve swapped them out. She knew the original set of 6 almost as well as she knew the ones she'd helped Steve find to replace them.
And she knew they definitely shouldn't be in Nancy Wheeler's jewellery box, still bagged with a label from the US government stating they had been goods confiscated by the Russians.
When she saw them it wasn't sensible to mention it. They were still dealing with Vecna and trying to find out more about him, but she remembered and once everything was over, and all that was left to do was healing, she wasn't going to stay silent any more.
“You know, Nancy, I've had a question for a while.” She stated, off hand, but laser focused on getting answers.
It was just her, Steve and Nancy for the moment so seemed like the best time to bring it up without anyone else interfering.
Nancy didn't seemed concerned either, just smiling. “Which is?”
“You never had anything to do with the Russians during the Starcourt fiasco, right?” Robin didn't immediately mention the rings, knowing just bringing up any of the events was likely to get the guard up of all of them.
Guarded eyes now looked at her, and beside her, Robin knew Steve was trying to catch her eye to silently ask what she was doing. “No. You know I was researching for the paper or with the kids basically the entire time.” Nancy agreed.
“Okay. So why, when we were trying to figure out info on Vecna, did I find a bag of items labelled as things the Russians had confiscated in your jewellery box?” Robin still didn't mention the rings, but knew Steve would immediately think of them.
After being given his keys back he'd tried asking about them but been told nothing else was found. Both of them had watched the government agent then go to talk to other members of their group but assumed that wasn't regarding any other items.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, but stood, going over to the jewellery box to get the bag. “Because the government agents said they'd found them and they seemed most likely to belong to me.”
Robin nodded, holding her hand out for the bag. “So little miss reporter got handed some items she knew definitely weren't hers and instead of say, asking any of the people who had actually been in the Russian base if they knew whose they were decided to keep them for herself and never question the origins?” She challenged, reaching out to take them when Nancy showed no sign of handing them over.
“I recognised them. I've tried remembering why I recognise them so I could return them.” Nancy insisted.
“Again, why didn't you just ask me, ask Steve, Dustin, Erica, if any of us knew who these rings belonged to?” Robin challenged, Steve's hand coming to rest palm up on her shoulder although he remained silently watching the scene.
Nancy glared, “Because I should know whose they are.” She snapped. “If I could just-”
“Pay more attention to the people around you, you'd know.” Steve interrupted when it looked like Nancy would go into a rant about her memory to try and justify not asking. “The reason you'd recognise these is I was always wearing one of them the entire time you knew me.” His voice was calm, but Robin could feel the tension in him, and a glance over at him showed his current rings had been swapped. She didn't think he'd go back to using the set she held even as she put the bag in his hand.
For a moment it looked like Nancy would scoff before she narrowed her eyes on Steve's hands, as if only just realising he still wore a ring. “But why would there be 6 of them?” She asked. “Only Eddie wears that many or more at a time.”
“Because I swap them out when I feel like it.” That wasn't the explanation Robin had received and she doubted the full one would be offered right now. “Thanks for returning them finally. I'm more annoyed that even when I asked specifically about the rings those agents didn't mention them to me at all.”
“Oh.” Nancy deflated as she realised Steve wasn't going to yell at her. She seemed not to notice Robin's gaze was still hard. “Yeah, sorry I didn't remember or, as Robin rightly said, ask whose they were earlier.”
At that Robin leant forward again, knowing her smile was colder than she'd normally direct at friends. “Please do ask if this happens in the future, because Steve shouldn't have had to replace his rings for you to delay solving a mystery this long.”
Nancy nodded, “I will. Are you two sure you aren't-?”
“Best friends and protective friends at that. You might be pretty but you aren't Stevie.” Robin reaffirmed, before sighing and trying to let her annoyance go. “Shall we put a film on or something?”
Steve hopped up, going to the stairs to listen for where Nancy's parents might be. “Probably not a film. I think Ted is still watching something, unless you're about to suggest going back to mine.”
“Funnily enough, Dingus, I was.” Robin agreed, also getting up. If she hadn't wanted to get him his rings back she'd have suggested going there to hang out from the start but now that was done she would happily swap hang out locations.
/\/\
Perhaps he'd just been young, but Steve had never thought he'd have to get more rings, after finding six of them. Emotions had seemed simple to him, nothing like the tumult he'd been going through and while six rings had stretched before now he was learning that getting more was necessary.
He didn't question how, in getting those original rings back, he knew that one already meant heartbreak and grief, while the rest weren't needed any more. It just seemed reasonable; an escalation of the swap from the ring saying everything is good to saying his world was crashing before he lost them, to now having its hopefully final meaning be grief.
Then there was Eddie's ring, the mixed feelings ring, or as Steve still thought of it, a question mark ring. He hadn't meant to claim it, but when taking the rings off so the hospital didn't dispose of them he hadn't been able to let it go, even to hand it to Dustin. He'd covered by swapping it out with the stressed ring and repeating that Eddie wanted him to wear a different ring.
Honour: A word Steve had only ever heard directed to him jokingly, but Eddie used for his ring being worn. It boggled his mind a bit to realise how sincere the other was being with him. A lot of things did when it came to Eddie, like the fact he'd called Steve a good person out of nowhere and without prompting. Most people just complained about or insulted who he used to be and when he tried talking with Robin about it she'd got mad at herself before repeating how good a person he was now. That hadn't helped his bewilderment, just added another cause for it.
“Dingus, why are you glaring at your rings and a notebook?” Robin asked, draping over his shoulder and bringing Steve's mind back into Family Video and the slow work day they were trying to keep busy through.
“I need more of them but don't want to go around with even more rings in my pocket. Or know how to label what feelings they'd be for.” He grumbled.
She leant closer, forcing Steve to bend with her so she could see the notebook better. “Yeah starting from scratch is dumb. Write what you have rings for already, Your terms not mine or anyone else's, and see what you think is missing after that. Then see which stand out as unlikely to be worn often. Those could live in your car or wallet or something instead of your pocket.” Saying this she moved to his side and laid the rings out on a clear page of the notebook.
As Steve considered the idea Robin wandered off to check on the only customer. It was a pretence he knew, but one he's grateful for, even as the biggest necessity in his list becomes evident.
There's nuance, and different rings for sadness, anger, confusion, embarrassment, heartbreak, but only 'good' and 'trying to see positives' for good emotions. Good was one he barely knew how to quantify now and 'trying to see positives' didn't actually feel good to wear. But Steve wasn't feeling constantly bad, he knew that. He felt hopeful, amused, warm, and loved; like these friends were a real family.
Plus the question mark ring was where good and bad emotions were fighting in him.
“Do you think Eddie will come ring shopping with us?” He called out, settling on the four emotions he needed new rings for and looking around the store for the first time in a while.
“I think I can fit that in, yes Stevie.” Eddie replied, leaning on the counter opposite him. Robin was stood beside him looking over at Steve in amusement.
He shifted a little, looking between them, expecting to get teased. “You've been here how long?”
“Couple minutes, was going to block the page to say hi but you looked so adorably focused.” Eddie shrugged. “Are these all your current ring meanings? You've still not told me-” The words broke off as he read the list, fingers tapping over empty spots noted for new rings
Robin had started snickering, needing no words to tease once Steve met her gaze, but stopped in confusion at Eddie's reaction. “Sure they are. He's decided he needs to show more emotions than that now.”
“Like more positive ones, you mean?” He asked, a sharp gaze stabbing at her. “Little Miss Platonic, why haven't you told him to get more or change all the meanings so he doesn't only have negative emotions to show sooner?”
“What?” The demand was when Steve realised their focus might be surrounding him but it didn't currently involve him. “When did those change?”
He blinked at them, seeing a tussle break out for the notebook and wondering what Robin meant as he glanced as the ring on his finger now, bronze, looking for positivity, then back to her. “They didn't?” He asked, trying to remember what he'd told her they meant. He'd probably described situations which made him change to each ring he was replacing after Starcourt since describing his feelings isn't easy without them. “What did you think they meant?”
Instead of saying anything she snatched the pen to start writing her understanding of the rings down, Eddie's eyes getting wider as he read them. “That's – That's some difference.”
“Did I explain when I'd swap to wearing them before?” Steve asked, unable to read upside down and just getting frowned at as Robin made it clear he had and she didn't like the meaning mix-up it had apparently caused. “You still know how to help anyway.” He tried to reassure, hoping to lessen the glare.
“Just how pissed should I be at Nancy?” Robin demanded instead, angrily gesturing to the embarrassment ring. “How much didn't you say when I thought you might date her again?”
Both Steve and Eddie stepped back from her anger as Steve frantically tried to remember what he'd used to explain that ring and how it involved Nancy. “You literally said you didn't need to know that story.”
“Apparently I do now if just her visiting your workplace has you feeling embarrassed enough to change rings over it.” Robin insisted. “So, story-time please Steve. What happened with Nancy Wheeler?”
/\/\
“Did you argue with Buckley?” Jonathan asked, sitting down beside Nancy and taking in the glare levelled at them.
She looked over as well but soon looked away. “The rings were Steve's. She found them but didn't seem this mad then.”
For a moment he just nodded, before straightening to look for Steve. “I didn't imagine the rings he used to wear then? I guess between you giving them back and now we've been spoken about. Makes sense I think.”
“What does?”
“Steve's best friend being pissed when he told her what happened between us three. I did wonder if she knew anything beyond the rumours.” He explained, waving when Steve emerged from the kitchen.
Nancy stared, trying to understand how Robin's anger came from that, even as she smiled at Steve coming over.
“You two okay? Your move back to Hawkins going well?” Steve asked, relaxed, a ring shaped into a shield on his hand.
“We're good, are you?” Jonathan asked, but carried on without pausing for a reply, “Realised that we never apologised for everything during that Halloween. I thought you'd broken up honestly, until Dustin said you were taking flowers to Nance when he asked for help.”
“I'm good and thank you. It's all history now and I'm pretty sure there was no coming back from that argument. I'm sorry for everything bad I did back then too. Some fault on both sides, I think.” Steve hurried to accept the apology but followed Nancy's gaze when she looked back over to Robin. “And Robs will calm down soon enough. She just got the meanings of some of my rings wrong and is mad about it.”
“What meanings do they have?” Nancy asked, glancing back at the ring he currently wore. “Eddie too? He did the hand hold thing too today.”
His nose scrunched but he looked amused, “Yeah but also no. That's cause Henderson tried using Robin's ring checking as evidence I'm dating her and Eds wants to see if he'll insist the same for someone else doing it. I'm preparing for anything Robin does to me to get copied or escalated for a while.”
“You're cool with that?” Jonathan challenged, looking shocked at the thought and Nancy could remember their fight from years back, wondering if that was why.
“Robin would kill me if I wasn't. Plus it means my empty home is a lot noisier with laughter now.” Steve mused. “Yeah, I'm pretty happy about Eddie's game.” As he finished speaking his hand dipped into his back pocket, a practised gesture that seemed absent enough to be unnoticeable as his ring was swapped out while he looked around the gathering. “I'd better check the kids aren't causing trouble over there.”
There was silence between them for a moment as he headed away. “So that's the first time I've actually seen that happen.” Jonathan eventually commented.
“No wonder. If he hadn't just mentioned his ring I'd have missed it.” She agreed, wondering why Steve would hide the gesture but do it so openly. It was more evidence that she hadn't known him as well as she thought.
/\/\
Dustin was getting frustrated. He'd thought it was a blatant lie when Robin said she was checking Steve's ring each time she took his hands upon greeting. Then he'd thought maybe it was valid but still an excuse after noticing them was what started calming Eddie down in the boat-shed.
Now Eddie kept waiting behind Robin as she checked Steve's rings, draping himself over the side of him left free when they watched movies. It was getting honestly difficult to get a hold of either of them separately and Dustin didn't trust it.
“Why are you leading Eddie on?” He accused one of the few times Steve picked him up without the other already in the car.
“I'm not, but thanks, really flattering view of me you have there.” Steve huffed.
Dustin narrowed his eyes, “You're straight Steve.” He stated as if he was being dumb. “Why are you accepting his flirting when you aren't into him? Are you going to hurt him?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “One, that's not for you to question for me. Neither of us are going to get hurt. Two, Eddie checked and keeps checking we both know where we stand in this. Three, thanks for winning me that bet.”
“Bet? What bet?” He demanded but they'd pulled up in the trailer park and Eddie was already climbing in.
He'd clearly heard the question and leaned over Steve's seat, pulling his hand up to check the ring while asking, “Yeah Stevie, what bet are you telling Dustin about?”
“One I won cause he got in telling me off for leading you on.” He smirked, taking his hand back to pull off again. “Seatbelt.”
“As if I wouldn't follow you anywhere, Big boy. Keep leading.” Eddie remarked flippantly before swatting at Dustin, “But talk about clouded vision, Shithead. So when Robin does it they're dating but I do it and I'm being led on.”
Dustin spluttered for a moment, but Steve's smirk got sharper, “So that's me and Robin one each, you none. Lucas could be anyone's but I think you have a shot at Mike.”
/\/\
Robin helped Steve find it, the final ring he’d buy for himself hopefully. She’d helped with everything else in his realisations since Eddie’s game began and was trying to make him share his feelings with Eddie now.
The ring had been both Steve’s way to delay that admission and his hope that Eddie would bring the conversation up for him. If only because he had no intention of advertising the feeling it meant at all.
It should have worked too, except he was never wearing the ring when Eddie first arrived, never able to get privacy when the change was noticed by the other and didn’t see how it could change with their kids all wanting attention constantly. He almost felt like his crush was doomed to silence and Robin’s teasing over it but refused to accept it, adapting instead. He started swapping rings when even slightly feeling besotted, hearing Dustin raving over something Eddie had done or a song reminding him of the other. Steve even started practising demanding private moments and dragging Robin off during her greetings, just waiting for Eddie to question this new ring.
“Is it my turn to ask for a private chat, big boy?” Eddie asked, finally seeing Steve’s latest ring worn as he arrived.
Everyone else was filing through the house to the kitchen or Steve’s pool and barely glanced their way as Steve tugged Eddie upstairs, blush only noticed by Robin as they went.
“You like my ring then?” He asked only after they were alone. It was partly to delay the admission, but mostly a genuine question. When looking for this ring he’d specifically wanted something that reminded him of Eddie’s rings and the coiled serpent design seemed fitting.
/\/\
Eddie for the first time in a while didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ramble about how much he liked it and wanted a similar one for himself; wanted to interrogate Steve on this new ring when he’d been resolute on pairing rings up if he found an emotion missing from their meanings in the future; wanted to ask if it was a way to get his attention.
It was mostly the last of the list actually, but that felt too vulnerable to say.
“It’s metal, but why? You said you didn’t want to get any more after our shopping spree.” He asked, holding back all the words trying to tumble out.
Steve fell backwards onto his bed, heaving a sigh and making Eddie wonder if he’d asked the wrong thing. “Because a crush isn’t as simple an emotion to indicate and I didn’t want you to make similar errors to Robin if I paired it up with other rings straight away.” He muttered to the ceiling.
Hope flickered to light where it had dimmed at the sigh. “A crush? On who?” There was a guess, especially with how Dustin had been distracted from his questions the week before, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
“You.” Steve said, rolling onto his side and watching Eddie as he stood just beside the door, never having moved since they came in.
He moved now, taking the hand and brushing his thumb over Steve’s ring. “That explains why you weren’t wearing it when I wasn’t around at first, but not why you’re wearing it now.”
“Will mentioned you earlier, some of the chats you’ve had with him over Mike.” He hummed.
“Your love for those kids is cute.” Eddie grinned, kneeling on the bed beside him. “It also doesn’t say what you want to happen now. You seem plenty happy with me copying how Robs treats you but are you wanting more than that?”
Everything in Eddie was screaming to just ask for more, or lean down and kiss Steve, or do something other than gently prying more details out from the gorgeous boy rolling around on the bed.
“Maybe you could kiss me too sometimes, see how we feel about going further when my house isn’t full of everybody else.” Steve smirked up at him, as if reading the desires on his face. “Oh and invitations to either your band practices or performances. I want those too. Who knows maybe the Corroded Coffin boys could just fit in with this chaotic family of ours over time.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked, leaning so their lips were millimetres apart. “Want to join our families? You already thinking of marriage, big boy?”
Steve leant up for a small kiss, “Forever with you sounds like torturous bliss. Where do I sign up?”
“I think you already have.” They both grinned into the deep kiss Eddie pulled him into then.
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson#steddie#nancy wheeler#platonic stobin#dustin henderson
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strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)
<series masterlist
pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader
genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut
warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds
w.c: aproxx 11.2
series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.
a/n at very bottom!
To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.
“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”
Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.
his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?
Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.
one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.
when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.
you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.
it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,
forever
and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.
you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.
I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.
you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.
you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.
so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.
ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.
he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.
“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.
let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.
you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.
“your shoes too big for you, baby?”
you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.
the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.
another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.
“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.
“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.
“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”
“how, with what car-”
“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.
Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-
doink
something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.
you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.
“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.
you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.
“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.
“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.
“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.
“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.
“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”
“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”
you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”
“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”
“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”
“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?
when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?
you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.
“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.
it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.
“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.
“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.
Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.
you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.
“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”
oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?
a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹
taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy
if your tag isn’t gray, please fix your settings so i can tag you next time love!
#hyukaslvr#writers on tumblr#kpop fyp#kpop writers#bts#bts fanfic#jungkook bts#bts x reader#bts smut#bts army#bts fic#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x fem!reader#bts x army#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#i love jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkoooook#kpop smut#kpop x reader
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Dearest older brother...?
Notes: woke up from my nap and wrote this off the top of my head. Some of this is based off my own personal experiences. Not proofread.
Content to be found: 100% PLATONIC, implied bpd and ocd if you squint, unhealthy sibling dynamics (lmk if there's more I should add)
You remember asking Sunday that question all too well. And boy, how did you regret it.
“Is it ok if I call you… big brother now?”
You so desperately wanted to have a caring family, siblings, but younger naive you clung to the wrong brotherly figure.
He and Robin had such a tight bond, and you, being an only child, envied them. So when you were invited to playdates, you enjoyed every second being with them.
The fond memories of you and Sunday supporting Robin's dreams. Sneaking into the kitchen to grab snacks without getting caught. You three grew so close, you practically were their third sibling.
But happiness doesn't last long. The more you all grew up and followed different paths, the more distant you guys became. Of course, there are still attempts to meet up, but it was difficult. Most of the time, you were left behind with Sunday, the man you called big brother.
Could you really call him that anymore though? He made little effort to keep ties with you. Check in on you. You understand that him and Robin obviously had a closer bond. Therefore, he'd pay more attention to her, but you? It's like he was trying to erase you from his life.
No. That's not right. He distances himself from you and lets you fall into loneliness. Yes, that's true. But then why does he keep coming back every time you're at your breaking point?
“What's wrong? You can always tell me anything. I am your big brother, after all.”
It's the same thing every time.
He asks you what's wrong. You break down. He consoles you. Then leaves and the cycle repeats. And every time you refuse to talk, he'll manipulate your emotions to speak and cause you to break down even more.
Why would a big brother do this to his younger sibling?
You couldn't take the emotional hurt anymore. It's like he just sees this as a game. He always uses the big brother card on you knowing it's your weakness.
Things get worse though. Of course they do.
You caught news that Robin has been found dead. That can't be right. It can't. You loved Robin as if she were your actual sister. Why did she die??
So here you are. Walking to the estate where Sunday should be. Why are you even going to him? You should be distancing yourself and be grieving alone. As much as he emotionally hurts you, you still care about him. As much as he abandons you, you always come back.
As soon as you make it through his office doors, someone aggressively grabs you by the shoulders and backs you up to the nearest wall.
It's Sunday.
He's shaking, breathing hard, clearly angry, but hurt above all. He rests his head on your shoulder, still holding you but with less force.
You've never seen him like this before. In the past, you'd occasionally see tiny outbursts when he couldn't get things the way he wanted, but he never displayed this much emotion near you.
“...Don't leave me too” he said in a shaky voice, but you couldn't catch that. All you could hear was your heartbeat from the adrenaline of suddenly being forced against a wall.
Out of genuine care you still held for him, you embraced him. He stiffened up but soon accepted it.
No matter how much you regretted ever calling him big brother, no matter how much it hurt when he abandoned you, you couldn't find it within your heart to leave and move on.
Comforting him was clearly a mistake. For out of fear he'd lose his only other sibling, he imprisoned you in a spare room in his estate.
He still had to keep up appearances so you'd constantly be left alone repeatedly. The cycle repeats itself again. He'll come back home and comfort you for leaving you alone for so long, then leave again for a long period of time.
You'd never escape. You had so many insecurities and were so emotionally constipated. Sunday made things worse. He just had to keep you somewhere where he knew he couldn't lose track of you and possibly lose you just like Robin.
You still loved him. You always would. And he in return would offer you the type of love you never got from your actual family, even if it was just for a bit.
To you, he was your beloved older brother no matter what.
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AHHHH IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUESTS TO OPEN UP!!!!! I’m obsessed with your writing 😩 (I apologize in advanced for my gibberish below for I am VERY high 😂)
Anywho (and you can totally ignore this if it’s not your cup of tea):
Would you possibly do an angst to fluff Eddie x reader fic where maybe instead of reader being the popular one, it was Eddie instead? Like instead of everyone hating on hellfire, they think it’s super cool and so Eddie is super popular and reader is like a quiet nerd. And like reader has a big crush on Eddie and Eddie knows but always makes fun of her for it because of his reputation but he secretly likes her too and then the events of the upside down happen? Like maybe it’s reader who lures the bats away instead of Eddie but Eddie saves the reader before she dies from the bats and he admits that he likes her back and they start dating?
Again, if it’s not your cup of tea you can totally ignore it but you’re the only person I feel like would do something magical with this.
I'm honored you believe I can do something magical with this. I hope I won you over.
I think this might be my favorite Eddie fic to date. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I do! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️it ends happy and I like the ending. So don't complain in the comments about "she shouldn't have taken him back" it's fiction and sometimes we just want things to work out so for this fic, leave that opinion to yourself. Saying that in the kindest way I can❤️
To die for
Y/N wasn't the type to hang out with the popular crowd. She kept her distance and didn't interact with anyone. She focused on her studies and getting into the best school offered. No one wanted to stay in Hawkins, and she worked to get her ticket out.
Then she got a little distracted, and she hated to admit it.
Eddie Munson, the leader of hellfire. He was a punk, loved music, and caught the eyes of every girl. Y/N didn't see the attraction until they got paired to do an assignment in music class.
She twiddled her thumbs nervously when he walked over. She inhaled his cologne as he pulled out the chair next to her, his bright smile flashed her way as his cheeks scrunched. He was the only popular kid in music, and she was terrified to be paired with him.
But as they worked together, they talked about themselves. It turned out they had a lot in common. While the assignment was boring research, she couldn't help but be excited to go to music every day. The assignment was a huge part of their grade so the teacher gave them a month's worth of class to work on it. It didn't take more than one class for Y/N to be just as smitten with Eddie.
~~~
"I hate that we couldn't pick which musician to research. Like why can't we do Dio?" Y/N mumbled as she began to write down notes.
Eddie never lifted his head so fast, he looked away from the computer towards Y/N. Her eyes were on her paper.
"You listen to Dio?" Eddie let out a breathy laugh. He was shocked, to say the least. He never thought the cute nerd would listen to a band like that.
"Who doesn't," Y/N laughed, she finished writing the sentence and looked up. She gulped when she noticed Eddie's warm eyes staring at her. A smile of adoration on his face, it made her stomach flip.
"Damn, there's more than just brains and beauty to you, huh?" Eddie joked as he went back to the computer. His words repeated in Y/N's head as she sat stunned. Did he just admit she was pretty?
~~~
Y/N cleaned her room at a rapid pace. Eddie was going to be over any minute and she was terrified. She was positive Eddie had seen the inside of many girl's bedrooms and she did not want to leave a bad impression compared to the rest.
~
"Can we take a break? My eyes hurt." Eddie groaned as he fell back against her soft bed.
"Sure, I'll grab us some water." Y/N offered, as she went out of the room. Eddie stood up, and his socks landed on the soft carpet. He walked around her room. He took in her huge collection of books, many he never heard of before. He looked at her wall of music. Band posters were on the walls and cassettes were neatly placed on a shelf. He had to admit, she had great music taste.
Her closet was cracked open, and Eddie couldn't fight the urge. He cringed as the door creaked as he opened it.
"Pretty girl," Eddie smiled as he grabbed the acoustic guitar that leaned against the wall.
"What are you doing?"
Eddie jumped but kept a tight grip on the neck of the guitar.
"Uh, sorry. I was snooping." Eddie confessed, "You play?"
Y/N blushed at the thought of him snooping, embarrassed of what he found and thought.
"I've always wanted to, but I'm not very good. One of the things I couldn't teach myself." Y/N laughed sadly.
"Sit, I'll teach you," Eddie said, he sat on her bed
"Um, are you sure?"
"Pretty girl in my lap as I teach her the thing I love? Yeah, I'm sure." He smirked as she slowly walked over. She sat the water down on her side table.
She coughed as she sat on the bed, next to him.
"Can't teach you all the way over there," he teased, she swallowed her nerves when he moved behind her. He placed the guitar in her lap and wrapped his arms around her.
"You smell nice," Eddie said against her ear. Y/N felt her tongue go numb, too nervous to respond.
She placed her fingers on the guitar and Eddie's ghosted over hers. She tried to focus on his directions and movements, but his breath hitting her neck sent her somewhere down south.
After an hour, she successfully could play a few chords.
"That a girl," Eddie praised as he placed the guitar to the side. "Unfortunately, I have to go home."
"Oh um yeah, thanks for teaching me," Y/N said shyly as Eddie put on his jacket.
"Pleasure is all mine," Eddie winked.
Y/N stared at the spot where he once stood for what felt like hours.
~~~
After spending a full month together, Y/N didn't want it to end. Their assignment was turned in, and now they didn't have a reason to see each other.
Y/N found a way. She sat on the phone all night trying to win tickets to the Dio concert, on Friday night. She scored the tickets and couldn't wait to tell Eddie the exciting news. She raced through the halls spotted his curly hair and headed his way.
"Eddie!" She said excitedly as she bounced on her feet. She ignored all the friends surrounding him. Her eyes were on his. She felt her excitement dissolve when Eddie's eyes looked panicked. He looked at her and his friends, she swore he looked like he was going to throw up.
"Yo dude, who's this?" one of his friends said as the group laughed and nudged Eddie's arm.
"Some type of little girlfriend?" Another one was added on
Y/N blushed at the thought of being Eddie's girlfriend. It wasn't like she didn't think about it with all the flirting and soft touches.
But Y/N ignored in and continued.
"I scored tickets to Dio! This Friday night, you and me?" She was proud of herself for making it through the sentence without shaking.
Eddie's friends laughed....loud
Their screeches could be heard blocks down from the school. But she kept her focus on Eddie. He stood frozen. He didn't say a word as he stared back at her.
"Oh, how cute. Little nerd has a crush on ya, Munson!"
"Looks like someone has a date on Friday."
"Atta boy, another one on the list."
"I uh..uh" Eddie stuttered
"Do you think he's actually going to say yes?"
The crowd around them got bigger as the school watched.
Y/N felt his friend's words stab her in the chest. Now she felt like she wanted to throw up. Her eyes watered as she looked around, everyone was staring and waiting for Eddie's reaction.
"Are you going to say something?" She meant it as a question, but it sounded like a plea. Like she was pleading him to tell them they were wrong and that they had something. That their moments meant something to him.
Y/N saw the Eddie she knew disappear in his eyes, and she knew he was going to land the final blow. She stepped back as she tried to brace herself.
"Do I know you?" Eddie asked, he pretended to look confused as his friends laughed.
"Eddie, don't," she whimpered, but it didn't matter. It was popularity or her, and she knew it wasn't a fighting chance.
"Look, sweetheart. I am flattered, but there is no way in hell I'd ever go out with you." Eddie smirked as his friends nudged him and they all fist-bumped behind his back.
Y/N didn't say a word, she nodded sadly and turned around. She pushed through the crowd as the tears slipped down.
"Oh, poor baby is even crying!" A girl's voice announced, then laughs followed.
Y/N shoved the tickets in the trash before she ran out.
Eddie was dead to her.
~
Eddie gulped as she raced off. His friends still hyped him up as he felt the hallways closing in on him. He stepped forward as she threw the tickets in the trash, but he stopped.
He felt guilty, he felt so fucking guilty. He wanted more than anything to spend his Friday night singing along to his favorite band with the cutest girl he'd ever met. To hold her hand as they walked in, to dance like idiots during their favorite song, and to talk about it for days after.
But he panicked. He wasn't supposed to like someone like her.
~~~
After Y/N embarrassed herself in front of the whole school, her life went to hell.
She couldn't walk in the halls without people laughing and pointing.
She dreaded music class. She kept her head down whenever she walked in, she felt his eyes burn into her. But she refused to look in his direction. She should have known Eddie would only like her behind her bedroom door. She should have known he was incapable of liking her shamelessly.
The cafeteria was loud as Y/N walked to her table, Robin was already sitting and picking at her lunch.
"Hey Y/N!"
Y/N looked over her shoulder, she groaned when she realized it was coming from Eddie's table.
"Turns out Eddie does wanna see Dio!"
Y/N looked to Eddie who kept his head down. She looked back at his friend confused.
"Just with a hot cheerleader, not you!"
The table erupted in laughter as she bit her lip. She knew Eddie wouldn't speak up so she turned around and walked to her table.
"I'm sorry they are dicks," Robin said as Y/N sat down.
"It's whatever." Y/N shrugged
"Um Y/N?"
Y/N looked up and was shocked to see Eddie standing there. She looked behind him and noticed his table was watching.
"Yeah?" She asked quietly, it hurt to even look at him.
"I'm so sorry for everything," he whispered.
"Is it like a trap?" she asked confused, as she suspiciously looked back at his table.
"No, I just re-"
"Whatcha doing here, lover boy?" Eddie's friend appeared next to him.
"I was...umm" Eddie nervously stuttered, the panic in his body again. He looked at Y/N's sad face and back to his friend's accusing one.
"Not trying to talk her up, are you?" His friend asked with a chuckle.
"No, of course not! I was just telling her to stop calling me. Chick won't leave me alone." Eddie faked laughed. His friend seemed to believe him, laughing with him, as they walked back to their table.
Eddie looked over his shoulder and mouthed "Sorry" but Y/N rolled her eyes.
~~~
Even if Eddie agreed to go to the concert, he wouldn't have been able to go.
Instead of sulking in his room about his poor decisions, he was stuck in the upside down.
"Dustin and Eddie you go to the trailer and lure them to you. Then the second the bats come, get back inside the trailer. Do not come out!" Steve said, his finger pointed at Dustin.
The group went to their positions and prayed their plan would work.
~
"QUICK WE NEED TO CREATE MORE NOISE TO LURE THE BATS AWAY FROM EDDIE AND DUSTIN!" Steve screamed.
"I KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Robin yelled as she grabbed the radio.
~
A panicked Dustin screamed over the radio as the bats began to chip parts of the trailer away. Eddie tried to swallow his fear but he knew this was it. He lived his life, did he have any regrets? So damn many.
He hated that he couldn't fix things with Y/N. He hated that she wouldn't get the closure she deserved, she wouldn't get the apology Eddie had been practicing for weeks.
If he knew his life was going to end so short, he wouldn't have wasted it on popularity. He would have picked her.
Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the cold air rush in, the bats were loud as they began to swarm into the trailer. He cried out as the bats clawed and nipped at his skin. He yelled for Dustin to run and not stop.
Eddie wasn't sure who to pray to but he did. He prayed as his clothes were torn and he felt blood rushing down his chest.
Then suddenly, the bats stopped.
A loud ring of music began to blast, Eddie knew he left his guitar on the top, and the sound wasn't coming from it.
The bats raced out and chased the sound.
"Who's doing that?" Dustin asked
"I have no idea. You okay?" Eddie asked, checking on him before he grabbed his weapons.
"Yes. Let's go!" Dustin said as he climbed out of the trailer.
Along with the bats, Eddie and Dustin raced. Eddie ran as fast as he could and Dustin jumped on his bike.
Eddie ignored all the pain he felt as he kept running. As he got closer, he realized it wasn't a song. It was the same few chords over and over.
And Eddie knew those chords.
Eddie felt even more panic in his chest as he guessed who was playing it. In a selfish way, he hoped it was someone else. It was wrong but he prayed it was someone in the group, and not her.
"WHO IS THAT?" Dustin screamed as he threw down his bike and prepared his weapons.
"It's Y/N," Eddie gulped as his eyes took in the sight of Y/N playing the guitar. She didn't have any protection, simply standing in her normal clothes as she risked herself for everyone stuck in the upside down.
For a second, everything was silent. The guitar stopped. Eddie's eyes caught hers. Both stared at each other as time slowed.
"I FORGIVE YOU!" Y/N screamed, the tears flowed down her cheeks as she threw the guitar to the ground.
"NO!" Eddie screamed, but it was too late. The bats already found her. Her body was taken to the ground as she screamed in horror.
"GET HELP!" Eddie screamed at Dustin, he didn't look back at him. He just ran to her.
He started swinging everywhere, he heard thuds and screeches. Eddie used every ounce of anger and hurt that his body held as motivation to swing the shit out of these blood suckers. The agony screams coming from Y/N's lips made him move faster.
Dustin called for help on the radio, he wasn't going to leave them alone. He quickly joined Eddie and began to swing.
Eddie didn't have time to yell at him, in the moment he was grateful the kid didn't listen to him. Together they cleared the path towards her. Eddie thought he felt the greatest amount of fear, but when her screams stopped he knew he was wrong.
~
Y/N felt like she finally caught her breath. She gasped as her eyes opened. Bright white lights shined above her that caused her to shut them again.
"Y/N?" She heard a relieved voice say then a warm hand intertwined with hers.
She slowly opened her eyes, a familiar brown eyes looked back at her. He was covered in dirt, blood stained clothes but he still was the prettiest man she'd ever seen.
"Hm, even in heaven you look the same." She said, her voice cracking with every word.
Eddie laughed and grabbed some water. He softly put it against her lips and helped her lift her head to drink.
"Well you haven't made it there yet." Eddie joked. "You had all of us scared."
Y/N looked around the room, but no one else was there. "You are the only one here."
Eddie scratched his head, "they were, but the nurse said only one person at a time, and well I called dibs for six hours." He said as he looked at his watch.
"Why?" She asked, from what she's learned he wanted nothing to do with her.
"I know it's incredibly hard to believe, but I have feelings for you. I know I've been a dick to you and I'm sorry for all the pain I caused. It's pathetic that it took you nearly dying to grow balls and be honest. But before you showed up, I was positive I was going to die. And all I thought about in that moment was how you deserved an apology and that I regretted not taking my chance with you." Eddie confessed. His hands were still in hers as he sat on the chair next to her bed. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet.
"It is pathetic, Munson." Y/N snapped, but she kept her hands in his. His touch was warm and soft, a feeling that reminded her she was still alive.
Her heart wanted to hug him and cry. But her head wanted her to keep her pride and tell him to fuck off.
"Did you mean it? When you said you forgave me?" Eddie choked out, sniffling back his tears.
"I prepared to die and I didn't want to ruin your life even more." Y/N confessed, sadness flood through her body as she remembered how worthless she felt because of him. He was the only person in her life that made her feel loved, but hated at the same time. In the end, that was the only experience she had with love and she was okay to die with that in mind because at least it was someone she'd die for.
"You never ruined my life!" Eddie promised, his wet lips kissed her hand as he sobbed. "You are a gift in my life, okay? I've never felt so happy around someone and so alive. I'm an idiot and I made all the wrong decisions. But I swear on my life, I'll make this up to you if you give me a chance. I love you."
Y/N snapped her head as she felt her heart race. The machine gave it away as it beeped.
"You love me?" She whispered, tears flowing down her face as she looked into his eyes.
The Eddie she knew was behind them.
"So damn much. I know I don't deserve anything and I definitely don't deserve you. But I'll do it all right this time. It'll be us and that's all I want."
"Is that why you saved me?" She choked out, she remembered his arms carrying her as he screamed for help. The fear in his eyes and the panic in his voice. He didn't have to come save her, but he did.
"The second I heard those chords, my heart fell out of my chest and my only goal was to get to you before the bats did. I'm very angry with Robin for putting you in that position, but she knew you'd do it to save me. And you deserve someone who'd save you back."
Y/N didn't say anything, she unlaced her hand from Eddie's. He tried to ignore the disappointment he felt.
She sat up slowly then placed her hands on Eddie's cheeks, before he knew it, she leaned in and smashed her lips on his. He felt his stomach flip a thousand times as he reached forward to hold her waist. He kissed her back with everything he had left in him. The kiss tasted of blood and dirt, but it was the best kiss he's ever had.
After a few moments, she pulled away and gasped for air. Eddie leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as he tried to memorize the feeling of her lips on his.
"I love you too." She whispered, before her lips attached to his again.
Eddie meant everything he said. He was going to prove he was worthy of her and her love.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff#ashwhowrites#popular eddie Munson! x nerd reader!
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The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1
This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.
I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast,
and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list.
Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell...
1. The original UK cover
Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces.
Tier: Great
2. The duelling US covers
Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.
Tier: Blessed by God Herself
3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover
How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space.
Tier: WTF
4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers
This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice.
Tier: Not so Good (Omens)
5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued
I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.
Tier: Bad
6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover
For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works.
Tier: Does the Job
7. France, De bons présages cover
Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10.
Tier: Good (Omens)
8. France, De bons présages covers continued
Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.
Tier: WTF
9. France, De bons présages covers continued
Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired.
Tier: Bad
10. France, De bons présages covers continued
Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY.
Tier: WTF
END of round one. I need a nap.
#good omens 2#good omens fandom#good omens#art director talks good omens#tier list#cover art#aziraphale and crowley#aziraphale x crowley#book cover#go s2#gomens#good omens analysis
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POPSTAR BUT IM YOUR BOYFRIENDS GIRLFRIENDS FAVORITE DJ !
Annabeth Chase x reader
GENERAL ROMANTIC HEADCANONS
a/n: HERES YOUR REQUEST ANON!! hope you enjoy some stuff about annabeth, i love her sm 😓 hope you enjoy!!
ᝰ the two of you are basically a match made on olympus (im so sorry idk why I did that)
ᝰ she loves to talk to you about her architecture plans for olympus and other places she's doing
ᝰ if you guys have similar music tastes be prepared to be sharing headphones with her constantly
ᝰ she shows you her sketches of her ideas for olympus to see if you like them
ᝰ gelato dates 100%, the two of you sit outside on a patio eating your gelato and talking about whatever comes to mind at least 1 time a week
ᝰ shes a human calculator, so if you're struggling with math or science at New Rome, ask her and she will gladly assist
ᝰ be prepared to be going to historical sites and museums A LOT
ᝰ if there's a science museum nearby, you are going to be planning her birthday party there
ᝰ I think annabeth takes her sleep to another level, so when you start sleeping with her, know that your going to have memory foam pillows and mattress topper, cooling blankets, throw blankets and pillows, and stuffed animals
ᝰ you and annabeth for sure have the best sleep schedule out of the 7 (I headcanon that they are all still friends 😭)
ᝰ Barnes & Noble dates every other day. no questions asked.
ᝰ she has a tote bag collection and picks the one that best matches your guys outfit that day
ᝰ you two are regulars at this one Cafe by your shared apartment—it's the one with a library upstairs, so self-explanatory why you guys go there
ᝰ yk those restocking videos on tiktok of kitches? I feel like annabeth would be one of the girlies that do that, so be prepared to help her restock her snacks and fridge
ᝰ if your feeling to tired to highlight your notes for whatever college class your in, annabeth will happily color code your notes with her highlighters she paid 45$ at an overpriced art store
ᝰ along the topic of college, if you mention to annabeth you have a test, she will sit you down at the table and you'll be there for hours working on flash cards and other studying methods
ᝰ she will ramble to you for hours about the latest book she's read, especially if it's a historical or mystery genre
ᝰ you and annabeth have volunteered so many times at the local library that the staff considers you one of their own at this point
ᝰ and if you play UNO or any other game of the sorts, she will get competitive
ᝰ no exemptions—even if your dating her
ᝰ you'll sometimes come with her to her appointments to get her hair braided, so you get to listen to the gossip she shares with the person doing her hair
ᝰ she'll also ask you beforehand if you like certain beads or crystals and what would look best in her braids, or if she should just go natural for that period
ᝰ be prepared to have your mind boggled by the random facts she says at any given point, it becomes a routine in your day
ᝰ shes an amazing partner to have and is always going to be by your side
#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy pjo#annabeth chase x reader#annabeth chase x you#hoo x you#hoo x reader#pjo x reader#pjo x you#percy jackson x you#x reader#annabeth chase headcanon
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Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?
the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3
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i hate accidents: a drabble
femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington
summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son
sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball
y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents
content warnings: brief description of grief from losing a parent
word count: 623
author’s note: the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~
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anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.
"brother," begins benedict, "i—"
"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.
"if you just let me explain—"
"have you compromised y/n?"
"what!"
"i said! have you compromised y/n!"
"how can you even insinuate that! of course i have not!"
"and why should i trust what you say?"
"because i am your brother!"
"precisely! you are my brother! you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"
that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.
"well! i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.
"and you expect me to believe that? when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"
lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory. the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—
"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say. are you finally admitting to your guilt?"
"we were discussing my art! that is all!"
"i am not a fool, benedict!"
"you look like one!"
"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady! our friend! how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"
"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"
anthony shakes his head.
"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"
it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.
benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.
"benedict, please. your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope. good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."
"i have not said anything of the sort!"
"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"
benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.
of course i do. of course i love y/n.
he swallows.
"it matters not what i feel. it matters what she deserves."
y/n deserves someone good. someone who will not hurt her. someone who is not me.
anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity. still, it reassures him. anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had. it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives. whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.
anthony sighs.
"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"
benedict rolls his eyes.
"this is where all my art is! but it shan't happen again."
"oh, that i will make certain."
he furrows his eyebrows.
"what is that supposed to mean?"
"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion? you have completely disgraced y/n!"
"nothing! happened!"
"bedchamber! together! ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure. "i am done with this conversation. we have kept y/n waiting long enough. we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event. we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."
benedict puts his hands over his face. of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?
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#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton angst#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n#penelope featherington#kate sharma#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#gregory bridgerton#hyacinth bridgerton#violet bridgerton#replies
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Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain
Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.
- - - -
Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy.
"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"
"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.
"Why not."
He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."
She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"
"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."
She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."
Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all.
-
Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”
"Yes bubba."
"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."
You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from.
“What?”
“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”
Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.
"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"
"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."
Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...
You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.
You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..."
-
Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you.
"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.
Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“
"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."
"You trying to set me up against mom?"
"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."
He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused.
“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer. And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"
She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”
-
The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.
You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.
You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”
Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”
"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.
"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.
"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told.
"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.
You furrow your brows.
“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"
Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”
You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"
Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room
"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.
Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."
"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously.
He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."
Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her ONLY uncle and he has no competition).
Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel and sarah#joel miller fluff#the last of us fluff#the last of us fic#tlou fluff#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#last of us fic#joel dealing with preggo wife
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If You Only Knew | Aaron Hotchner
My One and Only prequel
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Broken hearts find each other and in the process, they mend each other.
Word count: 10.7k
Tags/warnings: season 10 Hotch <3; cheating (on reader); food and alcohol consumption; Hotch has a soft spot for reader<3; lazy case talk whoops; canon typical violence; one bed trope; smut: unprotected and dirty office sex (p in v); secret relationship; stolen glances and kisses in forbidden places!!1!
Author’s note: I don’t usually do second parts mostly because I wrap up the story in a single one shot, but while writing the first fic I had this prequel in mind because oh boy, they have HISTORY (which is why it ended up being longer than My One and Only). Both can be read as a stand alone. First fic was based on Dress by miss T. Swift, and this one is like a mash up of every Taylor’s ovulation songs (I listened to this playlist a lot while writing this) 🙂↔️ Call It What You Want x I Can See You being the main inspo. Or were the songs inspired by them???🧐 it’s just so sexy sexy. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!
MASTERLIST
There used to be an engagement ring on your right hand.
A bright but simple ring that from the moment it was given to you, had you hopeful about your future. That future had always been uncertain. You rarely pictured yourself more than two years ahead, to begin with—for many reasons, neither worth mentioning—but no matter how long your future was, you were sure it was going to be just as bright as your ring.
And how wrong you were…
It hadn’t been more than two months since your fiancé promised you the world when you caught him in a lie. You’d let it slip away, fidgeting your ring as a reminder that he was the one.
If you hadn’t ignored the signs, you would’ve saved yourself from getting your heart ripped out.
He cheated, and even worse, you caught him in the act, with another woman in your own bed. You stormed out leaving every door open. Zac came running behind you, yelling your name, but you didn’t stop. You ripped the engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him without looking back. That clink of the band bouncing on the pavement was so faint compared to the sound of your castle crumbling, and your prince kept yelling at you to come back.
You didn’t. You got in your car and drove off aimlessly.
You’d been driving around the city blasting music since then, and yelling the lyrics hoping you’d go numb. You didn’t, but at least you had some clarity.
You had nowhere to be. There was no home anymore, no bed to sleep on, and no arms to run to. The place you used to call home now was stained with lies and haunted by another woman.
The only place that could shelter you for the night was the BAU. At the end of the day, that was your home. You spent most of your days there with the people you worked with. People who would take a bullet for you. They were your family—Derek being the one you loved the most—but you couldn’t run to him or any of them right now. The wound was too fresh and letting them see you like this would be disappointing and just… sad. They’ve always known you as a tough and reasonable woman. How were you supposed to tell them you weren’t that smart now that your entire relationship crumbled?
You parked at your usual spot and searched for your emergency go bag in the backseat. It was always stocked with everything you needed for at least a week. You weren’t planning on staying at the BAU for an entire week, of course, but also, you never knew. Your ex was capable of lighting your house on fire just to get rid of any evidence of his betrayal so for now, that bag was all you had.
You took a deep breath and made your way inside the building. You walked through security as you always did and smiled at the night guard. It was Rick, the oldest of them all but you felt the safest when he was at the door.
“What brings you here at this hour, young lady?” Rick adjusted his ivy cap.
It was past three in the morning.
“Piled up paperwork,” you merely said.
And he didn’t question you. “Oh, sure,” he answered politely with his old, raspy voice.
You smiled at him and made your way to the elevator, pushing the number six as you always did. You kicked the bag with your knee until the doors dinged open.
Not a single soul received you.
You walked past the glass doors and reached your desk, looking up at Hotch’s office that was right across. He had a couch there that you could use as your bed for a few hours. Everyone has slept there at least once— for whatever reason—and now it was your turn. You marched up the short stairs and paused. You knew his office remained unlocked (he once said that he’d lost the key, but deep down you knew he left it open in case anyone needed somewhere to crash for the night).
You knocked, just in case, and once there was no answer, you twisted the knob. His perfume was faint in the air—soft and woody—so it was easy to assume he’d left not long ago. You closed the door behind you and walked to the couch, leaving your bag there and turning the lamp on.
The dim light triggered the memories of the moment that tore you apart hours earlier: Another woman riding your fiancé. They even dared to light up romantic candles.
Your fucking candles.
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You wasted three years of your life and now with a cool head, you realized it was in your hands how you handled it. It could either be the best thing that's happened to you or you could let it drag you down.
Right then, you decided the first option was the only one. You stood there, both hands on your hips, your chin up and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air until your chest swelled.
This was going to be the only night you’d let yourself mourn your relationship. No tears. Just you and a glass of scotch. It wasn’t your drink of choice but it was all Hotch kept in his office and you knew exactly where he kept the bottle (right under his espresso machine García had gotten him for his birthday a couple of years ago). You crouched down and opened the little cabinet. The bottle was almost full and you wondered if it was brand new or if he rarely drank. You shrugged it off. You poured yourself some and began pacing around his office.
You’ve been here a million times and you’d never paid much attention to all the things he had. There were quite a few awards granted by the bureau displayed on the wall behind his desk; a bunch of books, too. You ran your fingers through them as you walked from end to end. He had a picture of Jack and Haley over his desk and you looked around, searching for a picture of Beth. Your eye landed on her contagious smile, over the little table by his couch. You walked there to get a better look at the picture. She was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. You’d met her a few times and it was nice seeing Hotch in love again. After Haley, everyone thought he’d refuse to let someone in again, but when love knocks on your door there’s not much you can do.
You sighed deeply and placed your empty glass in front of the picture. The alcohol was making you sleepy so you made yourself comfortable. You went to brush your teeth, put on your pajamas and fuzzy socks, made a blanket out of your blazer, and used your folded pants as a pillow.
You rubbed your feet together. It wasn’t a cold night, but you wished you didn’t have to spend it alone.
The constant sound of a pen scraping on paper gradually woke you up.
Shit.
You meant to sleep only a few hours and have Hotch’s office as it was before he got here; pretend you’d gotten there earlier than everyone. You must’ve slept through your alarm.
You slowly squinted your eyes open and caught Hotch sitting at his desk, brows low in deep thought.
How long has he been there?
“Hotch.” You rubbed your eyes and sat upright. “Hi. Sorry, I— What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the file.
So you didn’t sleep through your alarm.
“When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”
“A few minutes ago.” He put the pen down and lifted his head to look at you. His face softened.
He didn’t seem upset about you invading his office but you still felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, stayed until late last night and I was too sleepy to drive and—” You realized mid-sentence how bad you were lying.
But he let you.
“It’s not a problem, you can always sleep here. As long as it’s not already taken.” He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his thumb with the rest of his fingers. You wondered how bad you looked. How bad everything seemed. “It has a foldable seat,” was all he said, gesturing at the couch. “There’s a blanket under it.”
“Oh, thanks. It wasn’t that cold.” You braced yourself.
It was cold now.
“You can sleep for another hour,” he added.
“We don’t have a case?”
“No.” He glanced at the open door and then back at you. “Not yet anyway.”
Then why was he here so early?
You smiled at him and began to gather your things anyway. “Thank you, but I still should go. I’m… invading your space.”
“Oh, please. Don’t worry about it,” he said before going back to work on his paper.
Even if he didn’t mind you sleeping there while he worked, you did. You stood up, stretched your neck a bit, and began to fold all of your clothes, putting them back in your bag.
You felt his eyes on you every once in a while and just when you grabbed the evidence of your late night—the empty glass of scotch—he asked, “Is everything alright?”
You looked at him. There was that soft look again.
“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, fidgeting with your now invisible ring. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He didn’t have to say anything. He knew. You knew he knew just by that look he gave you. Wise. Emphatic. The ‘I’ve been there before’ look.
He opened his mouth to add something, but his phone buzzed on the table, making him tear his eyes off you. He sighed as his brows lowered.
“Now we have a case?” You asked and he nodded. “I’ll put on some work-appropriate clothes, then.” You looked down at your pajamas.
“Take your time. We’ll meet in thirty.”
The jet took off and the clouds were never-ending.
Two women had been abducted (and murdered) already in Fort Myers before you were invited to investigate. Victimology and M.O. were discussed and you barely said a thing. Your mind kept wandering off to the night before and how miserable you felt. The phantom of betrayal was still heavy on your shoulders.
Hotch sat next to you during the three-hour flight, and the only thing he said to you that wasn’t work-related was: ‘Would you like some coffee’, to which you gladly accepted. His eyes, though, kept asking if you were okay.
Minutes before the jet touched the ground, your phone caught some signal and began to buzz uncontrollably against the table. You already knew who it was so you didn’t bother to glance at the screen, you just sighed in annoyance and put your phone in your pocket. You felt Hotch’s eyes on you again and you tried your best to ignore him.
Right now, he was your boss, not your friend.
The moment the jet doors opened, the dense, humid air stuck to your skin. Everyone groaned in annoyance.
“Ugh, I hate Florida,” Emily commented.
You didn’t mind it. You needed a bit of heat and sun, hoping they’d woosh away the gray cloud over your head.
Hotch assigned everyone’s tasks for the day and partnered you up with Morgan to interview the victims’ families. Smart move. It was known that Morgan was your person inside the team, and even if he didn’t know about your heartbreak right now, he’d surely find out soon after spending the day with you. That’s what Hotch wanted. For you to have someone to talk to if you wanted.
You would’ve preferred to be out in the field instead of inside an office, that way you’d have more distractions. Right now, as you talked to one of the victim’s husbands, your only distraction was your phone. Your ex started to call you again and spam-texting you. He was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t quite focus on your job. The one that you considered was your forte—when it came to good people.
These men weren’t good people. They were exactly like your ex.
And they got on your nerves.
Morgan shot you a frown as he walked the last person out of the office, “What’s going on with you? You almost punched the guy.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.
“I would’ve if you hadn’t caught me.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m being dead serious, what’s going on with you?”
“He called his dead wife a whore, Morgan.”
“I’m not just talking about this. All morning you’ve been acting weird.”
There was his big brother attitude.
You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t not tell him. So you told him. Some of it. “Zac and I are fighting. He keeps calling but I’m not gonna answer yet. He’s gonna have to wait until I’m back.”
“What did he do?” He asked, brows shooting up with concern.
You walked to the small coffee station the sheriff had set up for the team. “We’re just fighting.” You poured yourself some coffee. You couldn’t tell him everything. He was friends with Zac—and a really good one.
“I don’t buy that,” Morgan insisted. “I know what your fights look like. This isn’t a fight over how he didn’t do the dishes.”
You hated how well he knew you. You and Zac. It was sad to think there wouldn’t be any more double dates with him and Savannah.
“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” you merely said.
Morgan let out a huff and glared at you in silence. “Alright.”
He respected you and didn’t bug you any more about it. And neither did Zac, thankfully. The messages and phone calls stopped but even then, you couldn’t get your mind off whatever he wanted to say.
The day went by painfully slowly. Not many leads were found and the unsub seemed to have gone dormant, which meant the investigation was done for the day.
Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were still finishing up a few things with the sheriff, and you decided to wait for them outside, sitting on the sidewalk. There was a dinner reservation at the hotel at nine. It was thirteen past nine and you’d been running on five cups of coffee.
Your stomach rumbled.
Steps came from behind. Morgan silently sat next to you and handed you a protein bar. He sat close, his arm touching yours. “Zac called me.”
“Good for him.” You didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, you began to pick your nails. You weren’t hungry anymore.
“And he told me.” Derek placed one hand over yours, stopping you from destroying your nails.
You shot him a look. “What did he tell you?” You asked because you didn’t think Zac would rat himself out to Morgan.
“I’m on your side,” he said. “He’s my friend, but you’re my sister. He’s dead to me now.” He quirked his brows.
“What did he tell you, Morgan?”
“That you caught him cheating.”
The disappointment on his face was as clear as the night sky.
You tore your eyes off him and sighed.
“I was so stupid.” You rubbed your forehead. “I caught him in lies multiple times and I brushed them all off. Like a part of me wanted that to happen,” you confessed.
“What do you mean? That you didn’t want to marry him?”
“I… I don’t know.” You looked back at Derek. Now that the truth was out you needed to talk about it. Maybe that way you could realize it was all your fault. “I loved him, and he was a great guy but at some point, after the engagement and before the lies, I stopped seeing a future with him. So I guess it’s my fau—”
“Nuh-uh.” Derek interrupted you, placing a finger over your lips. “He did this,” then booped your nose.
You couldn't help but smile. “Yeah but I stopped being… a girlfriend to him,” you explained, moving your hands around to make your point. “I came home late, he’d wait for me with dinner but I just… stopped seeing him.” You sighed. It really was your fault to some extent now that you talked about it. “He sought the attention I stopped giving him on someone else. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want… to be the person who just works and can’t balance it with personal life.”
“It’s tough.”
“Yeah, but you seem to make it work with Savannah.” You nudged his arm.
They had the kind of love you aspired to have one day.
“It took us a while, but we made it work. Still do. It’s a good thing she also has a time-consuming job. She just gets it. But it takes a lot of effort from both parties.”
You nodded in agreement. “Zac and I are over. This isn’t something we can talk about and get through and forget or forgive. He betrayed me.”
Derek hung one arm over your shoulder and kissed your temple. “I know.”
“At least I don’t have to plan a wedding anymore. It seems exhausting.”
“Oh, believe me, it is.”
You gasped and pulled away to look at him. He had a grin on his face now. That’s what you needed. A smile from him even if it made you forget for just a moment. “What? What does that mean? Did you propose?!”
“Whoa, whoa.” Emily came from behind and joined the conversation right away, standing in front of you. “Who’s proposing?”
“Morgan,” you were quick to respond. Anything to avoid anyone else knowing you’d been cheated on.
“Shhh!” He stood up, signaling you both to shut up with a finger over his lips and looking around to make sure no one else heard. “I’m planning to, alright. Don't…. Freak out. She can say no.”
“She’d be silly to say no,” Emily laughed a little. “Are you kidding?”
“You’re already planning the wedding,” you laughed too while standing up. “Don’t pretend you expect her to say no.”
“Of course, she’s gonna say yes.” Derek grinned. “I’m just playin’.”
On the way to the hotel, the team split into two SUVs and Hotch kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign, with that know-it-all look, a pinch of concern. He was worried about you (and soon to be pissed for the stunt you pulled earlier).
You got a triple room with Emily and JJ and you didn’t give them a chance to make any conversation with them since dinner was canceled. You threw your bag over your bed and headed to the rooftop. You figured it’d be the only place none of the team would be. You needed fresh air, and you felt ready to talk to Zac. You reached the rooftop and pulled out your phone. Just the thought of hearing his voice tightened your throat. But you had to. You needed to know what he had to say.
You dialed his number and some agonizing butterflies still managed to flap their wings at the pit of your stomach with that first ‘hey’ on the other line. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your only witness was the moon hanging above and she wouldn’t judge you, so you finally allowed yourself to feel it.
His voice was a stab to your heart and a soft sob got caged in your throat. He said he was sorry, that he missed you, that he loved you. That you will always be the love of his life and that he knew he’d lost you. You muffled your sobs against your hand and once he was done talking, all you could reply was ‘okay’.
Then you hung up.
“Damn it.” You let your phone slip through your fingers to cover your eyes with one hand while you braced yourself with the other arm.
You stood there—for who knows how long—until a pair of unfamiliar arms enveloped you from the front. Their scent, though, was like home—faint and woody bathing you whole. You nestled against their chest and it only made you cry even more.
“Shh. It’s okay.”
Hotch’s voice snapped the knife out of your chest and he wasn’t about to let you bleed out. With one hand he caressed the back of your head, giving you soft scratches. The other rubbed your upper back with short and tender strokes. You weren’t planning on crumbling and you surely didn’t expect Hotch to be the one comforting you, but it felt right. You needed a hug and a gentle voice telling you it was okay to feel like this.
Your entire relationship flashed before your eyes. You were mourning its death, after all., and there was no going back from it. You wouldn’t do that to yourself and had to accept that his laugh would eventually fade away from your memory and his eyes would no longer shine because of you—they haven’t for a while.
You peeled yourself from Hotch’s chest and noticed how his shirt was damp with your tears.
“Sorry, I—” you sniffed; looked up at him.
His soft eyes scanned your face for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ they asked, a sweet frown taking over his face.
“You look like you need a drink,” he said instead.
You chuckled, nodding, even when the after-crying headache was creeping up on you. You would’ve taken the elevator to the first floor, but Hotch guided you through the staircase.
“Were you up there when I got there?” you asked him.
“No, I went there to clear my head and… found you standing there.”
After all these years working with him, he was still the hardest to read. “Is something bugging you?” you asked him.
“No.”
Okay, then. You understood it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about (with you).
You reached the first floor and headed to the bar. It wasn’t crowded, and Rossi was already there. You two joined him, each at either side of him.
“Ah, FBI agents,” Rossi told the bartender, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna interrogate me, are you?” he then asked you two.
“I don’t know. Should we?” Hotch asked with a tint of humor.
“You should interrogate her.” He gestured at you by twitching his mouth in your direction. “I heard she almost punched one of the victim’s husbands.”
“Thanks, Rossi.” You glared at him, and he couldn’t have cared less.
“Is that true?” Hotch asked you, leaning a bit forward to glance at you over Rossi, even when the wall in front of you was a whole mirror.
“Goodnight, kid.” Rossi slid off his stool. “Night Hotch. Keep an eye on her.”
“Great.” You glared at him again. “Just throw the grenade and run away.” He just laughed and waved a dismissive hand. He had clearly had quite a few drinks so you couldn’t blame him much.
“Is that true?” Hotch asked again.
“He was a jerk,” you responded, sipping on your drink.
“That has nothing to do with it. Jerk or not, you can’t be acting like that.” His frown grew strong but his voice remained as soft as when he was comforting you moments earlier.
“He cheated on her, Hotch.” You shot him a look through the mirror. “That’s why she went out and got abducted. Murdered.”
“I understand that, but we push our feelings aside, you know that.”
“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just… let it go, please. You know I won’t do it again.”
“Of course you won’t.” He took a short sip of his drink and looked forward, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “You’d be off the case if you pull something like that again.”
A light bulb lit up over your head right then.
“Do you think that’s why the unsub is targeting the victims?” You grabbed his forearm with excitement. “Because they got cheated on?”
You were right and your tragedy helped save the last woman the unsub had abducted. You wrapped up the case with a bittersweet taste.
On the flight home, Morgan sat next to you, and for some reason, you wished Hotch had sat there.
You searched for him on the jet and he’d chosen to sit farther back. You wanted to thank him for comforting you when he didn’t have to, and as if he’d read your mind—
Good job today—He texted—I know this was a particularly difficult case for you.
You lifted your head and caught him looking at you. You smiled at him as a response.
It was difficult, but it also helped you heal a little.
Morgan nudged your arm gently, gesturing for you to take your headphones off.
“Hm?” you raised your brows.
“Are you planning on going home now?”
You sighed. “I have to.”
“You can stay with me for a few days. Savannah would be thrilled to have you over.”
“Thank you but I think that’d make me feel… small? I have to see him eventually. And I’d rather get it over with soon.” You smiled at him. “After that conversation, though, I’m not sure if I’ll have a place to stay so I’ll let you know if I need a place to crash for the night.”
“I’ll be there, then.”
When you made it to your place, Zac was waiting for you with dinner. You would’ve laughed, but you were too exhausted to even smile at him.
“I’m just here to get my things,” you said, walking past him to your room.
You smelled fresh paint on your way there, and you really laughed then. He’d repainted the whole thing. Did he think changing the wall color would make you forget what happened there?
“It’s your favorite color.” Zac stood at the door.
“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed.
You threw all your belongings in two suitcases and left.
To never come back.
“You’re getting discharged.” Hotch drew open the curtain of your cubicle.
“What? What about Morgan?” You sat upright, keeping the ice close to the bump on your head. You’d been in a car crash in the middle of a prosecution. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He just dislocated his shoulder.”
“Well, the doctor said I can’t fly, let alone drive.” You rolled your eyes. “So who’s driving me back to Quantico?”
“I am.” You couldn’t help but let out a huff. “Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.”
“It’s seventeen hours, Hotch. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can take an overnight bus or something.”
“You’re not taking any bus. You got a brain bleed. Someone’s gotta be there if something happens.” He glared at you. “Gather your things. I’ll bring the car. A nurse will walk you out.”
Your things were only your badge and gun. Everything else was still at the hotel, so you assumed you were going to make a stop there before hitting the road back to Quantico.
You were officially discharged by your doctor minutes later and you’d underestimated Hotch’s efficiency. He’d already gone to the hotel to get your things. He even bought snacks—your favorite snacks.
You reclined your seat and threw a blanket over you. Your head was much better but it still hurt despite you being high on painkillers.
“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater on?”
“Not cold.” You assured him. You just wanted to make yourself cozy. “Hotch, I don’t know if I’m gonna handle a seventeen-hour drive.”
“I know.” He gave you a quick glance. “I don’t think I will either. We’ll make a stop if you need to. Just let me know.”
You dozed off and on during the first two hours—your eyes darting to Hotch’s firm hands on the steering wheel—until it started raining. Normally, you would’ve been on high alert since you weren’t a fan of driving when it rained, but it was Hotch who was driving. And he was a great driver.
The sound of the thick drops hitting the windshield turned out to be a perfect lullaby and helped you fall into a deep and cozy slumber. A dream began to take over your mind at some point but it didn’t become one entirely.
Loud noises dragged you out of it.
You blinked your eyes open. You were parked on the side road, and the rain wasn’t normal rain anymore. It was loud, hitting the rooftop like daggers. You feared it might fall through.
“Are those hailstones?” You adjusted the seat back straight.
“Not yet,” Hotch responded. “But we can’t keep driving like this. I can barely see past the hood. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m no weather expert but I’m sure there’s a storm coming.”
Hotch nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to make an emergency stop.” He pulled out his phone and typed something. “There’s a motel 3 miles away. We can spend a few hours there until the storm passes.”
“You just said it’s dangerous to keep driving.”
“It’s more dangerous to stay here or on the side of the road. Plus you need to rest. It’s been a long drive already.”
Long? You glanced at the clock on the radio.
“It’s been six hours already?!” Your eyes widened.
It didn’t feel like it, though.
“You snored half of it.” He teased, his soft dimples making their first appearance of the night.
“I did not,” you laughed a little.
You knew he was just kidding, but you clearly needed those hours of deep sleep. Your headache was much better now.
Hotch kept the blinkers on as he started driving again, slowly until the map on his phone signaled him to turn right.
There was a blue-light vacancy sign glitching.
“This is it?” you asked. The place looked straight out of a horror film and the dark sky didn’t help.
“You stay here,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll check if they have any rooms.”
You didn’t disagree and locked the doors once he stepped out. Just in case.
Minutes later, your phone buzzed.
There’s only one room available, Hotch texted you.
Two beds? you texted back right away.
King, he replied.
Great. It was either sharing a bed with Hotch or staying in the car.
I don’t mind if you don’t, you texted. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Then you added, we’ll only be here a few hours until the rain stops, right?
Yes. Don’t move. I’ll come get you, he replied.
You gathered your things within reach, as gently as possible so your brain wouldn’t get all scrambled by sudden movements and unlocked the doors for Hotch.
He opened the door and ducked his head inside. “It’s the farthest room,” he raised his voice over the loud rain.
“That’s fine,” you matched his tone. “Let’s make one trip. I can carry my things.”
“You sure?” he frowned in an attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You nodded and stepped out of the car.
Once you had your things and Hotch had his, he took the lead with you walking fast behind him with your head low. You both were already drenched so there was no point in running.
The room was better than what you expected. It welcomed you with warm air, one bed, a small desk facing the window, an old TV, and a bathroom. They even had a small station with a kettle and tea/coffee, and the heater was on
You stripped out some of your clothes right next to the heater and changed your muddy shoes for your slippers.
“Do you mind if I take the bathroom first?” You asked him.
“Not at all,” Hotch replied, ridding himself of some damp clothes.
You walked past him with your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom. You unlocked it right away. What if you passed out? It was going to be a quick shower to regulate your body temperature, but with a brain injury, you never knew.
You were in and out of it in less than ten minutes and Hotch had already changed his clothes to sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was always so strange seeing him out of his suits.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, hanging his clothes on the improvised drying rack he made out of the single chair and desk and placing it close to the heater.
“A little.” You sat on the left side of the bed.
Hotch grabbed the snack bag and displayed what he’d bought over the bed. Along with your favorite snacks were some fruits and two instant noodle soups. The first time you pulled out one of those, Reid told you all about them and how they were some of the most cancerous foods there could be, but they were a guilty pleasure and you didn’t eat them often.
“Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll take a shower now.”
He was being a good caretaker to you and you trusted him so all you had to do today and tomorrow was obey him. You could shut your brain down when Hotch was around.
You turned the TV on to have some background noise and put on the news. The weather had been catastrophic already in some parts and they said it was going to last at least eight more hours. It was 8 pm so you didn’t mind waiting all night for it to pass. It was a cozy room, after all.
You prepared yourself the instant soup and sat cross-legged on the bed. Your phone buzzed against the mattress.
How’s your head? Morgan texted.
Better. Your shoulder?
I have a good doctor at home so I’ll be alright. How’s the trip going?
The sky is falling here. We had to make a stop for the night.
Sharing a room with the boss? ;)
You didn’t know why he would say that or why you would lie about your answer, but you lied.
Of course not! We’re gonna wait for the rain to pass before hitting the road again.
You hit send right when Hotch came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.
You put the phone down. “There’s still hot water in the kettle.”
You rarely saw him eat, and since all he bought were things you liked, you assumed he liked them too. He prepared his soup as well and sat on the other side of the bed.
“It looks pretty bad.” He glanced at the TV.
“They said it’s gonna last all night.”
Something was odd about him now. Maybe it was the fatigue of the trip that hit him after the shower. But he kept looking at his phone and putting it down. You saw him clench his jaw more than once.
“Everything okay?” You had to ask.
He gave you a look.
Everything was not okay.
He hesitated a moment, twisting the noodles with his fork but never taking a bite.
“Beth got a job offer in Hong Kong.” Oh. “And she’s boarding the flight now.” Oh, no. “She asked my opinion before taking the job offer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I encouraged her to take it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
You didn’t want him to regret his choice about encouraging her—she put him between a rock and a hard place—but you had a string of questions about it. What if she asked for his opinion because she wanted to stay and settle, but needed him to say it?
“So you let her go,” you said instead and he nodded. “How’s Jack handling it?”
“She talked to him, we took him to Orlando for the weekend and he understood it but”—he sighed—“I know it’s been hard on him, too.” You couldn’t imagine how his son was feeling. He was a kid and he’d lost someone, too. “But we ended it on good terms.” He raised his brows.
“Why did you offer to drive me home?” You asked. “You could be there with her by now. At the airport.”
“We said our goodbyes.” He shook his head and looked down. “It would’ve made it more painful.”
You hummed in agreement. “They say if you love someone, you let them go. If they come back, it means they’re truly yours.” He looked at you. “She could come back.”
His eyes were glassy. For some reason, you felt he was thinking about Haley, too. He was once again losing someone he loved—by choice this time but losing her nonetheless.
“Sorry,” he sort of laughed. “I’m talking about my heartbreak when…”
When you were recently heartbroken too.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m—”
“Fine,” he finished your sentence. “Of course you are.”
“I’m over it and I laugh about it now. I wasted three years of my life. My good years.” You chucked. “It's funny now.”
“It’s not. And you still have a few more good years ahead of you?” He commented, confused.
You talked as if your youth was already over but you had a good reason. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna be as hot as I was when I met him.” He smirked. “He went for a younger woman.” You then added.
“Younger?” He raised his brows.
“I know. I think that’s why I feel old. But she was a 25-year-old trainee.”
“That’s not much younger than you.”
“You flatter me.” You let out a small laugh. “I just… Why do men always go for the younger woman?”
He took a subtle deep breath. “I—“
“Generally speaking,” you added. “Men who cheat go for a younger woman.”
“I don’t know but I’m sure Reid can give you all the statistics about it.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear them.”
You let out a yawn, and soon Hotch did too. You two agreed in silence it was time for bed already.
“It’s not cold in here so I’ll sleep over the bed covers,” he commented.
“Hotch, you don’t have to. I don’t mind, honestly. I’ve shared beds with most of our team.”
“Alright,” he let out a small laugh, raising his brows.
The rain stopped around 5 am and within thirty minutes you both were up and ready to hit the road again. There were ten hours ahead of you and this time you didn’t feel the need to sleep through it. You slept like a baby last night and also, talking to Hotch was really nice, and he seemed well-rested too.
You stopped for a quick breakfast two hours in and had it in the car to optimize time. Throughout the drive, there were talks about the landscapes and weather and he’d throw in some random stories about his brother, or Haley and Jack when something reminded him of them.
Your favorite was how he and Jack had a tradition whenever it rained: chocolate chip cookies. And how Jack had already decided that he was going to do the same with his kids one day.
And the more the clock ticked, the more you wished he’d slow down his speed (even when he was going just below the limit). You didn’t want the trip to end, but it had to eventually.
Around 3 pm. Hotch was dropping you off at your place.
“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he commented. Only Derek had had the chance to visit your new place.
“It is. It’s mostly old people that live here so it’s very quiet all the time.” You smiled. Silence filled the air for a moment. You missed him already. “Hey, I know we’re both exhausted but… would you like to come in? We can make some decent lunch.”
Hotch took a subtle deep breath. “I would. I’d love to but… Jack’s waiting for me. I was supposed to arrive yesterday and he was excited to see me. I… I’m picking him up at school after this.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” You gulped. Stupid.
Why did you feel nervous around him all of a sudden?
“Maybe some other time?” He asked.
Your stomach fluttered.
“Definitely.”
Spencer was turning 33, and Penelope thought throwing him a surprise birthday party was a good idea. She asked everyone to show up earlier than usual to decorate a conference room. You were the first one to show, then one by one everyone arrived.
The only one you wanted to see walking through the door, though, wasn’t the birthday boy. It was Hotch.
After the gloomy night at the motel, Hotch became a permanent thought. You didn’t know if it was because he took such good care of you, or because he trusted you to tell you a personal thing—or both—but since that night, something changed.
You’d always admired him, but this was more than that. Your cheeks grew warm whenever he looked at you. You started to feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. And you felt ridiculous. He was your boss, he’d been your boss for five years so why had your feelings changed?
The truth was, you’d always had certain feelings for him. Nothing ever happened before because you met him as a divorced man, who only had time for his kid and his job, so at the time, besides your boss, he was a nice face to look at (a very nice face). Then Haley's death came and he shut himself down, drowning himself in work. You started dating Zac soon after, then you didn’t have eyes for Hotch anymore. He became who he was: your boss.
Now, that both were single, your true feelings for him were coming afloat. Of course, you didn’t let them show; how your stomach fluttered at his sudden presence and constant glances. You insisted those were in your head, that he’d always looked at you the same amount or the same way, but when the attraction is reciprocated, there’s a spark.
That spark almost lit up a fire in your chest when he finally showed up. The lights were off, but you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere, and he was walking up to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, standing next to you.
“You’re late,” you whispered back.
“Is Reid here?”
“No, but we did all the work.”
“I’m… the boss for a reason.”
You held back a laugh. Thank god it was dark.
“Shhh, there he comes!” Penelope whispered loudly.
Everyone moved to their assigned spot and your hand accidentally brushed his in the process. “Sorry.”
It’s okay, he whispered.
That accidental touch was the first of many not-so-accidental.
You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but he looked at you, paid attention, listened to every word you had to say. He saw right through you.
There weren’t many moments outside work, though, and that confused you even more. You couldn't ask him to see each other casually. It wasn’t something you or he did, and it made you wonder. You wondered. Always. Every day. Every hour. Every time you looked at him you wondered what was going through his mind.
Weeks went by where unspoken words were said. Your feet itched to go to his office every time you knew he was going to stay until late. To offer him some coffee, or ask him if he needed help with something but all you always ever did was turn in your reports and linger there for a second or two, hoping he’d ask you to stay.
And tonight was no exception. You had your excuse to stay late this time, though. A doctor's appointment forced you to clock in late, and for that, you had to stay to meet your weekly worked hours.
Everyone had left, even the janitors.
Everyone except for Hotch, of course.
You glanced at your watch when you finally finished your last report. It wasn’t even an appropriate time to have dinner. You were dreaming of your bathtub and a glass of wine with some cheese.
You stacked your folders and adjusted your skirt before going to Hotch's office to hand them in. You knocked three times and waited for his Come in! to enter the room.
You walked in and he wasn’t at his desk as he usually was. He was on his couch, with only the lamp lights on; he’d removed his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up right below his elbows.
“Hey, I… I finished my reports.”
He looked at you—stared. You swore a faint smile was curling the corner of his lips. “Toss them on my desk.”
You slowly walked in and did as he said. “Are you… leaving soon?” you clasped your hands behind you.
“I don’t think so.”
“Is there… something I can help you with?” You gestured at the folder he was holding.
He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, actually.” He scooted to give you space on the couch. “Close the door.”
You did as he said and sat next to him, but not quite close. He put the folder on the coffee table and spread all the documents, filling in every gap.
“Choose,” he said.
You laughed. “What?”
“Our next case.”
“Oh, I’m not… I don’t think I’m qualified to do that, am I?”
“There’s a reason I’m asking you to choose.” He raised his brows to make his point.
Your eyes flickered between pictures and reports. Neither was worse than the other. “Well, it’s not like I can choose, right? You have to… study each one of these murders to decide which one has more priority. Which is… a bit twisted. As if one is less important than the other.”
“It’s hard.”
“And you do it every time.”
Hotch nodded. “JJ used to do it when she was the liaison. Now she still does when I can’t or ask her to since she has the right criteria, but it’s on me now.” He raised his brows as he spoke.
Your eyes were stuck on his lips, a sudden urge to kiss him brewing in your chest.
“I don’t know how you do your job without breaking down sometimes,” you said. He smiled, scanning your face up and down. God, you really wanted to kiss him. “I mean your unit chief job.” You tore your eyes off him and adjusted yourself a bit farther on the couch. You had the perfect view of the side of his head.
Hotch leaned forward resting his elbows over his knees and lowered his head. “It’s… the one thing I’m good at.”
“Not the only thing,” you let out a breathy laugh. He turned to you, raising his brows as if he were waiting for you to mention another thing he was good at. “You’re a great dad, Hotch,” you said without hesitation.
“I,” he licked his lips. “I could be better.”
“We all could be better at everything, doesn’t mean we’re bad at it.”
Hotch sighed. “You’re right.”
“You’re also… good at sports?”
“Stop.” He chuckled, lowering his head once again.
You rubbed his back by impulse, and you withdrew it right away as you felt him tense up. Your hand tingled at that brief contact and it burnt when he reached for it and enveloped it with his large hand. Your heart rate skyrocketed and all you could hear was your pulse in your ears (not that any of you was saying anything anymore).
He turned his head to you, adjusting farther back so his back would rest on the couch. Your shoulders touched now, and his hand was still on yours and this time, his thumb caressed your knuckles, and his eyes were stuck on your face.
The urge to kiss him was flush against your skin.
“You should go home,” he said, swallowing thickly. “It’s late.”
“Yeah,” you licked your lips. “I really should.”
He let go of your hand and with the same one, you caressed the side of his head where a few satly strands of hair were gloriously shining. You put the short pieces behind his ear and cradled his face. You held your breath. What the hell were you doing?
A pained frown took over his face and he shut his eyes for a second. You wanted to kiss the frown away so you leaned, kissing his cheek. He tilted his face until the tip of your nose was touching his.
His shaky breath ghosted your lips.
Would a kiss on the lips be so bad?
You were closing the gap before you thought about the answer. Your lips touched—a soft peck—and there was barely a sound when you pulled away.
“I’m sorry I”— You placed your fingers over your lips right away.
Hotch wasn’t giving you any signs of anything at all and panic began to take over you.
God, what have you done?
Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper filled with longing. He was leaning closer. He studied your face from up close as he paused. His nostrils flared and he licked his bottom lip before going for a kiss. Just as tender as yours.
At first.
One of his hands found a spot on the side of your thigh while the other went to the back of your neck, bringing you closer and allowing the kiss to intensify. His chin scraped yours with his barely noticeable beard and his lips were gentle despite his sudden urge.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this—him kissing you back or reciprocating any sign of affection. But he was, and he was getting so into it his tongue was already teasing yours.
A small moan escaped you when he opened his mouth a bit more. Your breathing quickened with each kiss and when your tongues finally tangled together, you lost it.
“C’mere.” He murmured against your lips.
You hopped on his lap and gave yourself in. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight and pressed your hips down. It became sloppy with each kiss already and only heavy breathing filled the room. His heavy breathing.
He was so needy for you.
This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but you were ecstatic. No matter how far this went, it already was much better than your bathtub.
You let go of his lips for a second. You needed to catch some air.
“Aaron.”
You’d never called him by his first name. Never, and right then you wished you’d done it sooner. It seemed to have awakened something in him. He groaned into another kiss and grabbed your hips tightly, encouraging you to move them.
He liked it. He loved it.
You obeyed, grinding him and going back for another kiss. His hands were still shy, hesitantly resting at the curves of your hips. You pressed your hips down. His hard bulge was right there. You couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, cupping his face harshly with both hands as if he could go anywhere. He was a prisoner of your body; you had him caged with your legs and arms and he didn’t seem to mind at all.
His hands raked down your curves, lower on either side of your hips and slowly traveled down, cupping your ass and guiding you back and forth.
Hotch’s lap was heaven on earth.
You moaned into a wetter kiss, tongues gliding together. You were embarrassingly loud now. He smiled against your lips.
“Sorry.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, pressing your foreheads together.
His chest was heaving in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands went up to your lower back and he pulled you close into a tight and tender hug.
A sudden clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. He was your boss for fucks sake. You were sure, that once you came out of his office, you would lose your job. The one you fought so hard for.
“I… I have to go.” You slid off his lap and stood in front of him, adjusting your skirt.
He was staring up at you through his dark lashes and you couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed. You wiped your lips clean and took a few steps back.
“I am so sorry this—” You took a few more steps backward on your way to the door and turned all the way, giving him your back.
Hotch stood up, his broad silhouette taking a few steps towards you. He said your name with his deep, deep, oh-so-deep voice as your hand touched the knob. He was right behind you now, his torso glued to your back and his arms wrapped around your waist.
You shut your eyes as he inhaled your hair.
You locked the door.
“Are you sure?” he murmured next to your ear.
All you could do was nod.
He flipped you around by your hips, capturing your mouth, body, and soul. This time he groaned like an animal, hungry for you. God, he was desperate and your entire body fluttered. Your knees when weak right when he scooped you by your thighs and walked with you towards his desk, plopping you there while knocking everything down with one hand.
No words were necessary. His hands talked for him and the kiss was never-ending. You were a fucking mess already. You were at his will, so open to let him do anything he wanted with you.
To you.
The air was getting hotter and the layers of clothes began to bother you. His body heat and breath were to blame. He was everywhere.
He sneaked one hand in between your legs and gripped your inner thigh, his thick fingers sinking into your flesh. You squirmed over the wood, encouraging him to go a little higher. He did, the tip of his fingers ghosting your panties. They were damp with your arousal already (you’d felt it leak through you when you were kissing on the couch), and by the way he smiled, he could feel it. He lifted your skirt up to your waist and pressed himself onto you, his erection finding your cunt like a magnet. He cursed under his breath, looking down at where your bodies touched the most. But not quite.
You wanted to touch him, feel how hard he was. You palmed his thick bulge and gulped. Your mouth went dry as you began to massage the outline of his erection while making eye contact, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered.
There were so many clothes in the way, making it hard to focus but then he grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes and whatever was about to come, was the best thing that would ever happen to you.
He sneaked his fingers from the side of your panties, the wet sound of your arousal against his fingers was embarrassing. But it made him drop his head to your shoulder. He cursed again and began to massage you, spreading your arousal all over with his thick fingers. Your cunt clenched, desperate to have him inside you. You cursed under your breath with pleasure as his fingers found your wet entrance. He made circular motions without entering, teasing you.
He was driving you insane, too.
“Hotch,” you murmured, I need you, you wanted to say, but he shushed you. Gently. Tenderly. Shushed you with an open-mouth kiss.
You whimpered against his mouth and with clumsy hands, undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sneaking your hand inside to touch his length. Finally. You whined again at that first touch. His skin was burning.
“Would you fuck me?” you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his length. They barely covered him.
“Of course, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. Let me feel you.”
He moved his fingers up and down between your wet folds, feeling you as he’d said. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled, gentle and put the perfect amount of pressure.
But you were growing desperate.
“Please, Hotch.”
He didn’t give you any warning and in one fell swoop, he had his length out. Fuck. His cock stood on its own—thick and long—so close to your cunt. The tip glistened with his arousal.
“Scoot to the edge,” he ordered.
You did as he said and he lined himself at your entrance and barely pushed the head inside. You both let out a quiet moan at the same time.
God, it felt good. He felt good. You both looked down and watched as he slowly entered, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. He looked at you then and you lost it.
Aaron Hotchner was fucking you. Aaron Hotchner, whom you admired and respected. Aaron Hotchner, the man who has been messing with your head these past few months.
This was an eye-opening experience. Paradise on earth. How have you gone so many years without him? New feelings were brewing in your chest with each thrust, each stare, and each kiss.
You gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer as he began to move, rocking his hips back and forth. You’d milked his dark and thick curls with your arousal already, making each slam sticky to your skin.
His cock was exquisite, spreading you open and reaching every right spot.
“You feel so good, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You couldn’t resist.
He kept fucking you until your butt went numb, you needed to finish but you didn’t want this to end. Ever
You showed your discomfort by adjusting over the desk.
Bend over, he whispered on your lips.
He kissed you one last time before you hopped off the desk and obeyed, bending over his desk and glancing at him over your shoulder, ready to take him. He squeezed your ass with both hands and lined himself again. He teased you, pulling it out and moving it up and down. You let out a needy hum, wiggling your ass, begging for his cock.
He entered again and this time, he was ruthless. He slammed into you, hard. Then again. And again. Over and over until the only sound in the room was the clash of skin against skin. You had to muffle your moans—and smile—by biting your forearm.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, Aaron Hotchener fucked good. So good you were seeing stars already and so close to grazing the sky.
He bent down too for a moment just to bring you up close into a hug. “Come here.” You already knew he liked having you close.
He sneaked one hand from the front and massaged your clit as his thrust became sloppy. You threw your head back to his shoulder, and he captured the underside of your chin between his teeth.
This was it. The beginning of an addiction you never wanted to rid yourself of.
There were a few more slams before he came. Hard. He was a vocal man. Grunting and groaning and cursing quietly as his cock twitched inside you.
Your legs were shaking, and if it wasn’t because he was holding you, you were sure you would’ve fallen to your knees. And he didn’t let go of you for a moment, his cock still inside you.
You needed to know what he was thinking, see his face.
You took a sharp breath to speak, but he slipped his cock out and you gasped. His cum dripped down.
“Sorry,” he murmured and was quick to clean you with a tissue.
You finally turned around and caught a look on his face you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t disappointment. But it wasn’t a positive thing.
“This“—he began, buttoning his pants—“changes everything.” He glared at you.
You adjusted your skirt and pressed your lips together. “I know.”
“And it can’t happen ever again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach for a second as he added, “Not here.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip
You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile.
“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” You walked up to him, placing your palm flat over his chest. His heart was still racing. “Not here.”
You kissed him, and he kissed you back.
“Should we, uh, leave together?” you asked, licking your lips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You can leave first.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“See you tomorrow.” He nodded and stole another kiss before you left.
You walked out of the building so put together as if nothing had happened, and kept a straight face until you were inside your car.
“Holy fuck,” you laughed; squealed, almost.
That really happened. You covered your face with both hands trying to come back to earth.
You decided to drive off before Hotch appeared in the parking lot, or else you wouldn’t resist taking him right there all over again. You replayed what had happened in your head the entire drive and as soon as you made it home, he texted you.
I hope you know this isn’t something casual or unimportant to me.
You smiled. You loved that he couldn’t hide his professionalism when texting.
I know, you texted back, for me either. Believe me
Good, he replied.
Goodnight, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Tomorrow came and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you agreed: no one could know about it.
He explained to you, when no one was around, how relationships within the bureau had a reputation. It would’ve been different if he was at the same level as you, but since he was your superior, it wouldn’t be well seen.
So this being a secret was more for him than for you, but you didn’t mind. It was such a rush. The whole forbidden thing did something to you, which caused you to be horny at work more than once.
But he made up for it when you saw each other at his place or yours.
There, it was different. You allowed yourself to be softer and he didn’t hold back any kiss or touch. His affection confused you, though, since the talk hadn’t come up yet. The ‘what are we?’ talk, and you didn’t want to be the girl who asked that after the second date.
There was sex—lots of it—, there were dinners, movie nights, and everything couples did, so it made sense if you asked, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to spoil the magic.
Because it was magical, your lives took an awful turn when you got your hearts broken and you both were right at the curve to meet each other. He’d been there, in front of you this whole time and a fragment of you glued back together every time he stared into your eyes while nothing was said. While he caressed your face and kissed you just because he wanted to. He managed to heal you between the lines, with subtle words that’d get stuck at the back of your mind.
And the more you two met outside work—whether it was at his place or yours, his bed, or a fancy hotel room—your feelings for him intensified.
They were worse on nights like these, when you found yourself tangled between sheets with him after sex, talking about anything and everything.
He often had an expression of everlasting love.
At least, you liked to think that way.
“What are you thinking?” He asked you with that glimmer in his eyes.
You sucked in a breath and brushed the front pieces of his hair with your fingers. “Did you get Morgan’s wedding invitation?”
You don’t know why, but he laughed. “I did, yes.”
“I think we should bring a date.”
“Why?”
“We have a plus one and… I don’t know. I’m gonna be wearing a dress so for your sake, I should have a date. That isn’t you.”
“Oh, really?” He teased, placing a kiss on your ear.
“This is inappropriate, Agent Hotchner, I’m your subordinate.” You laughed. You were ticklish there.
“Not when you’re in my bed.” He adjusted himself on top of you, lowering to kiss you. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
You laughed again.
You loved it.
Loved him.
I hope you liked it!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts about it too!🤭❤️🔥
#I’m so excited for this one pls don’t let it flop#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic
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For me, the most heartbreaking aspect of Ivan is that the poor clueless bastard didn't have the tools to express his affection in any way that didn't involve violence or manipulation, or weren't too inscrutable, quiet, or unseen to be picked up by Till.
I definitely interpret Ivan as autistic for several reasons, a big one being their Segyein teacher's notes about him:
It's just. Classic ND behaviour to me.
Not only does expressing emotion and communicating the way other kids do not come naturally to Ivan, but it's not as if he's been given a great example of coping with this from the Segyein.
Ivan managed to mask in a way that made him popular with other students, and got him in the good graces of their captors. He did everything expected of him to survive and thrive in this environment.
Then he meets Till, inscrutable and very different to the other kids, just like Ivan is. Except, Till doesn't mask. He doesn't change or try to endear himself to their captors, and he doesn't bend to anyone, no matter how much he is hurt and punished for it.
This is a new situation for Ivan, and he's never had anything to compare his feelings to. He also can't figure out how to communicate with Till, every interaction, no matter how well meaning, seems to end in failure.
I bring your attention to the cheer up comic, and how, again, autistic this interaction feels:
There could be many reasons why Ivan chose to say what he did, but to me it feels like ND bluntness not being received well. And that's fair! From Till's perspective Ivan is being a jerk for no good reason.
Instead of responding with glee towards Till laying him out (as we see from Ivan when they're a bit older), Ivan justs seems... really confused. Like he didn't expect that statement to upset Till that much, and he didn't expect Till to respond in the way he did. Everything was fine a second ago, what went wrong?
Then, Ivan uses the phrase he learned from Till in an attempt to self sooth. It might have been the first example of comfort after an injury/hurt he had ever seen, given how he defaults to it. And it was from Till trying to cheer up a flower.
This also shows some of Till's blindspots. He has grown up having to be vigilant, because violence and hurt have been a core part of his upbringing. This leads to anything he doesn't immediately, clearly understand as being perceived as a threat or a slight, and so he reacts violently to Ivan's statement.
I'll also draw your attention to this comic where, as far as we know, Ivan is simply stating a true fact in a blunt manner:
In my interpretation, these types of interactions keep adding up, and Ivan is grasping at straws the whole time, trying to be closer to Till and failing every time.
Eventually, the only surefire way to get Till's attention is to piss him off, provoke him, manufacture scenarios to talk to him. I'm not excusing this behaviour, but I understand where Ivan could be coming from, from the perspective of both an emotionally immature/stunted child and/or an ND child.
Despite how much they fight and bicker, at every moment it really mattered, Ivan was there for Till. It was always Ivan coming to free him, to take off his collar or gag, and it was Ivan who led their escape.
Ivan couldn't leave Till behind when he went back for Mizi. Even with the confirmation that Till would choose Mizi over Ivan every time, Ivan couldn't leave him.
The miscommunication goes two ways though. It's insane to think that Till didn't care about Ivan at all. They were close as kids, and I doubt Till ever forgot about the escape he gave up.
We have the graduation messages, where Ivan is able to write something that could be reasonably interpreted as affectionate or fond towards Till.
Meanwhile, Till's message-
If we're being charitable with our interpretations, we can say this was Till's way of saying 'of course I remember you' and attempting to communicate that Ivan HAD left a lasting impact on him.
However, how could any reasonable person be expected to get THAT out of 'you stole my fucking pencil'? Ivan could have taken this one of two ways:
1) Omg he remembers me 🥰
2) he leans into his 'i will never be loved back' bias and thinks that Till really doesn't care about him at all
Who the hell knows what goes through that weird little brain of his. But given how Round 6 went, and what Ivan had to say in the confession comic, he obviously didn't think his impact was significant enough.
Then Alien Stage happens, and in Round 3 Ivan is FINALLY communicating his feelings in a way that is vulnerable and might even have a chance of being understood as love and yearning!
Till is unconscious through it until the very end.
Then in the next round, Mizi goes missing, and Till can't care about anything anymore.
Ivan finds him after the private performance, takes off his gag, and just holds him. Again, Till is unconscious for all of this.
Then, in Round 6, not only is Till distraught from the disappearance of Mizi, but he's given no time to process what the fuck is going on before Ivan is dead at his feet. Till might have finally had a chance to really understand where Ivan was coming from, how he really felt all this time, and Ivan DIES.
And still, Ivan's most transparent act of affection? It's delivered with violence. He's kissing a distraught Till who tries to push him away, and neither of them are happy. He puts his hands around Till's neck, not really hurting him, but it's enough to look convincing for the cameras, and it's enough for Till to go limp and wait for death. Ivan's final loving act is to give Till a soft look with blood pouring out of his mouth, that Till still does not see, and then let go before falling to the ground.
It's just a collection of failures. We see from Ivan that he truly loved Till, made a lot of selfless decisions for his sake, was filled with so much longing and affection, but he just couldn't get it across in a way that doesn't seem fucking deranged from an outsider's perspective. And when he DID manage to communicate his feelings more clearly, it was to a Till that was unconscious, or too distracted/dense/traumatised to see Ivan's actions as ones of love.
There's no guarantee that Till would have reciprocated even if Ivan had managed to communicate his feelings in a healthier way, but there was at least a CHANCE. At least Ivan could have gotten some closure, even if he was rejected.
Instead Ivan died thinking he was completely unloved by the person who he cared about more than anything else, and his last ditch effort to make Till understand was deeply flawed and uncomfortable.
If these kids had grown up any other way, maybe they could have had a chance. Unfortunately, the world they were in didn't equip them to not hurt eachother in their attempts to grow closer.
#alien stage#alien stage ivan#alien stage till#alnst#alnst ivan#alnst till#ivantill#tillivan#alien stage round 6#if you saw me edit this a bunch of times trying to link the masterdoc post no you didnt
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Kickin Chicken once said
@hiwelcometothemonstersancturary gave me the go to do this, which is mistake one for them, so here is my go at giving them what they encouraged while I pray it works well. And if not...well I at least tried.
* (Refering to Bobby) She is called Captain Heartbeat cause she will squeeze love out of your heart...and blood, but mostly love.
* (After speaking pr-bt for a 2 minutes) You ever forget your first language?
* Mods, take their swimming privileges away and put them in the pool.
* I would go evil, but I am going to follow dad's steps of being good...plus I saw they went shoe shopping so...
* What do you mean I can't seduce myself!?
* (Loud thud off Camera) PERCEPÇÃO DE PROFUNDIDADE!
* Our ship has a pool, an omelet bar, tons of rooms for you to sleep in, one would say that is a cruise, to which I say, fair, but have you seen the plank, cause I am about to get you real familiar with it.
* I heard some demons were touched starved. I got more than enough buckshot to help with that.
* Bubba, reading chat: "Kickin isn't the sharpest knife in the group," Well that is rude...
Kickin: I did eat packing peanuts when I was younger to be fair.
Everyone in room:
Kickin:...Wait is this new information for you?
Everyone: YES!?
* Wonder how many people come on to see me stream thinking "Oh hey, the voice actor for Kickin does streaming," or "Hey is this the official channel for the Smiling Critters show?" And they just come in on me saying something like, "I HAVE BUILT A TO SCALE JOLLY ROGER WITH POPSICLE STICKS!"
* Hey Theo, it's you! (Gets empty bottle thrown at head) Ow.
* White is the color of evil, cause nothing exists in it! Delight taught me that!
* I would cry, but I am too dehydrated to do such a thing. (Goes to drink some water, pauses, puts water bottle back down)
* It is always funny to see people react to my complete indifference to horrible stuff.
* I needed to find a way to get a gambling addiction, so I thought space could have the answer.
* (Seeing Bubba being affected by the blue screen) Bubba, I know you always wanted to become the one thing I love, but this is ridiculous!
* I am just saying revenge is amazing, ok? Yeah, you gain a tremendous amount of regret sometimes, but it is amazing.
* Cool motive bro, still murder!
* (In response to Angel giving them food) It hasn't been that long since I started streaming, it has only been...5 hours...
* This is my favorite bird. (Holds up middle finger before pointing to self) It is the chicken.
* (Wearing VR) The future is today!...I might need it adjusted though.
* Does dying take away time away from my vacation days?
* IT IS ALL A CONSPIRACY TO END ME! IF NO ONE EVER HEARS FROM ME AGAIN, IT IS CAUSE THEY KILLED ME, CHOPPED ME UP, AND FED ME TO THE WOLVES DANG IT!
* Fursuits are getting so good you can now subject yourself to your own form of trauma to fuse into it. Brought to you by Playtime.
* I have seen the internet and honestly, have seen worse. Which is saying alot.
* (Looks at Candy Cat in his lap before looking at camera)...Help. me.
* Theo: You finally did it! Did it help when you imagined it was me you were fighting?
Kickin: Not at all...worked when it was Dogday though.
Dogday: WHAT DID I DO?
Kickin: Hell if I know. As long as it works though.
* (Playing I Expect You to Die, dies trying to do an action pose)...(Starts singing the James Bond theme notes)
* (Reacting to "Unnecessary Feelings") Bubba, I was promised a crime drama, not a reminder that no one in this house knows how to feeling well, including us!
* I would boop you, but I don't want a pirate hook this early in my character development.
* William then preceded to commit several hours of joy, on at least an entire classroom of kids to learn why death does.
* You can have one hit Hoppy...Ah não, ela tem uma cadeira!
* Don't worry, I won't hurt you, I am just going to turn into a nuke to fall on you.
* (Stares at camera while winding music box)
* Chica, you wouldn't hurt your brother, would you? Or would you want me to be you and Foxy's kid, whichever makes you more merciful on me.
* I am here to break the stereotype that parrots can only be pirates and no other reasons at all.
* (Refering to how much money he has in game) $60!? I can finally afford 1 AAA video game! (Pulls up Balan Wonderworld steam page) I am going to buy this one guys!
* Kickin, coming into Crafty's stream: You mind if I borrow a picture.
Crafty: Uh sure...Why?
Kickin, taking one of the monsters: A reminder.
Crafty: A reminder of what?
Kickin: Of who in this family is an actual threat. (Leaves without elaboration)
* Don't make fun of me, I will cry will I beat you up.
* We don't even own a game cube, I just want to find a copy of Skies of Arcadia to display.
* When you get into a certain mindset for so long, it is so jarring to have to go into a different line of think, like you just suddenly ask, "Wait I don't have to ration this sandwich for the entire year?"
* WHY DID I LET THEO TALK ME INTO PLAYING THIS!?
* I am still surprised I recovered so well from all of that.
* What would the others do without me? Minus not having a heart attack everyday.
* I SURVIVED THAT FACTORY FOR OVER 10 YEARS, I WILL NOT LET A SLIDING PUZZLE DEFEAT ME!
* Have good night everyone! I don't remember how I end these...I will make you walk the plank! No, that is not it...
#is it clear I used Google translate cause I don't know the language?#i am very sorry for that#poppy playtime#smiling critters#au#smiling critters arg#smiling critters poppy playtime#kickinchicken#poppy worldwide
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader
Part 12. Between Us
Beginning. ← Previous |
Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him.
Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers.
Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once.
Word Count: 2879 words.
Author's Note: 2 parts away to the end! I'm super excited for what is to come.
Btw I made a PLAYLIST
Dinner continued as night fell over the elegant panorama. Musicians continued to play all night long, waiters walked around the tables with trays laden with appetizers and people chatted pleasantly surrounded us. I was eating delicious food, drinking expensive champagne, and I was sitting between two super attractive men, what more could I ask for? Definitely a good night. His mother would sometimes give me uncomfortable looks, but Sukuna would scold her every time he caught her doing it. Choso would get me to talk about my plans once I stopped working for her brother. And Yuuji… I didn't want to talk to him after exposing myself like that in front of his family. I knew he was a big gossip, but I never thought he would reveal something like that to his parents.
When dinner was over, his parents said goodbye to everyone and went back to their house. Or I rather say, mansion. I had discovered that the Itadori's owned a large coffee company that was distributed internationally. Now I understood why Sukuna was so spoiled, he has always had everything he wants from the cradle. Good thing Choso and Yuuji didn't turn out like him.
“I think we are ready to leave, right, Choso?” Yuuji asked the middle brother before pulling him by the arm to the car.
“Not so fast,” Sukuna said before pulling him towards him by the hoodie's cap. Yuuji replied to the sudden movement. “We already knew you were a shitty gossip, but today you went too far,” I scolded him while forcing him to stand in front of me.
“Stop it, Sukuna!” Choso exclaimed to make me let go of his little brother.
“Shut up! You know perfectly well that what he did is not right,” Sukuna barked. “Apologize to Y/n for what you said.”
That action coming from Sukuna healed wounds in me that I didn't know were still there. I think it was the first time someone defended me like that. I was so used to always fighting for myself that I had forgotten how it felt to have someone come to my defense. I don't know if he was doing it out of wanting to discipline his younger brother or to protect me, it was still comforting to see him act so concerned about the situation. I felt safe next to him even though he could act like a monster at times.
“I'm sorry for saying what Naoya did to you in front of everyone. It won't happen again,” Yuuji apologized, avoiding my gaze, ashamed of his actions.
“You better keep your word,” I told him so. Sukuna would let him go.
After a quiet ride home, Sukuna wished me goodnight and we both headed to our respective rooms. I took off the cute little girl costume I had put on as I recalled the intimate moment I had shared with Choso and how Sukuna kept nagging his family so he could have a quiet dinner. I sighed tiredly before lying face down on the big white bed. I shoved my face between the goose down pillows as I realized I had spent the whole night fantasizing about two different men.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I scolded myself.
Tonight I confirmed that my feelings for Choso were still there, but now they coexisted with the feelings I had for Sukuna, his own brother. What I was feeling was not right, but what could I do about it? I couldn't date both of them to find out whom I liked more. I couldn't play with them like they were plastic dolls. I also didn't want to make a pros and cons list, that seems tacky to me. I looked at the clock, it was 11 o'clock at night. I was sure Nobara was still awake.
“Well, well… Finally, someone deigns to call me,” Nobara answered the video call. She had her hair up, a mask on her face and a loose-fitting sleep shirt. She was getting ready to go to sleep, he had caught her at a good time.
“I know, I've been busy,” I replied embarrassed. “But now I'm in the middle of a dilemma.”
“Oh, finally, some tea!” Nobara replied.
I told him everything that my heart wanted to let out for months. How tender, mysterious and attractive Choso was and how handsome, strong and disciplined Sukuna is. About how much I wanted to go out with Choso to coffee shops and art museums. About how much I wanted Sukuna to give me a clear sign that he liked me as a girlfriend and not as a hamster he had to protect from hawks. The mixture of love and confusion surprised Nobara with every sentence he blurted out.
“I like them both, and I have no idea what to do,” I finished my confession.
“Taylor Swift could write a song about it,” Nobara joked before pulling a cheeto out of the blue bag and eating it. “I don't understand why you're racking your brains when the answer is so obvious.”
“Is it?” I asked confused.
“Duh. I'm team Choso to death,” I answered.
“Why?”
“Do I really have to say it?” Nobara looked at me as if I was stupid. I just kept quiet. She sighed in exasperation and sat up straight to speak seriously. “Choso is the only one who likes you back, and you really like him too. Sukuna only likes you because you respect him a lot and not because you really want to go out with him,” she replied wisely.
“I see…” I whispered as I realized it was true.
When I think of Sukuna, I think of his sportswear, how great he looks boxing and how strong he looks against his opponents, but I also think of the thousands of flaws he has. He is an angry, spoiled and rude man. I could have disciplined Yuuji tonight, but he could become a thousand times worse if he set his mind to it. Even though I felt safe with him, I don't know him like I'd like to.
“Besides, Sukuna may not be like Naoya, but it sounds like he's similar,” Nobara added.
“You're right,” I sighed before closing my eyes.
Since that night, I decided to stay sentimentally away from Sukuna. Every time I saw him, I thought about him with a cold head. I saw beyond my rose-colored glasses that made me drool for him. We still trained, ate and spent time together, but I avoided him at times when we could be completely alone. As the days went by I saw him less as a perfect man and more as a cranky friend.
A month had passed since then and the big fight against Aoi Todo was just around the corner. The entire team had traveled all the way to Rio de Janeiro for the big night that awaited us. Brazil gave us a warm welcome from the moment we arrived. Paparazzi, fans, and sponsors had been bombarding us with flashing lights and posters to autograph since we arrived at the airport. Team Black had finally arrived to rule the place.
Sukuna tried to go for my face as he did every training session. I evaded him with no trouble to land a hook to the liver that knocked him back a couple of steps. After months of exhaustive training, I had already learned Sukuna's pattern of moves. He always goes for the killing blow first, then low attacks and again, tries to knock me out. It's a pattern that repeats over and over again with a variation that occasionally catches me off guard.
“Keep your guard up!” Gojo shouted at me from the side of the ring.
I put my arms up to cover my face better. Yuuji and Nanami were watching us fight with Gojo. We were waiting patiently at the UFC offices to be called for the official weigh-in. We knew perfectly well that Sukuna was at his ideal weight, but we had to find out if Aoi Todo was. Being the heavyweight champion wanting to compete for the light heavyweight title, it meant he had to lose at least 22 pounds for the fight to be held fairly.
Sukuna sent me to the corner with a single jab. I tried to recover, but he was already on top of me, busting me with punches until I reached my limit. I could only keep my guard up until he got tired and opened a door of opportunity. What I didn't count on was that I got a hook to the tit.
“Oh, son of a bitch! I screamed in pain while I pushed him to let myself rest for a second.
“I wanted to hit you in the stomach, but since you are smaller, I didn't hit you where I wanted to,” he explained with an evil smile. “That’s some bullshit,” I thought.
“Sukuna Ryomen, you can go to the office,” a UFC assistant announced.
“Saved by the bell,” Sukuna said before taking off his gloves. I flipped him off as I took off one of mine.
The entire team made their way to the office where the official judges and the referee who would be in charge of the fight were waiting for us. The process was simple. They would just weigh the fighters, recite the official rules to both of them, and we could go back to the hotel to prepare for the weigh-in. We had done this several times before, there was nothing to be surprised about.
“Hello, Sukuna,” Yuki Tsukumo greeted us with a big smile as soon as we entered the office.
Sukuna, Yuuji and I froze when we saw her next to Aoi Todo. This had to be a fucking sick joke. She was the coach of our new opponent? This only meant bad news. Sukuna completely ignored her to greet the judges, referee and Todo.
“Good to see you again, Snake,” Yuki greeted me directly while Aoi was weighed on a professional scale.
“Why didn't you tell me you were Aoi's coach?” I asked her while the judges were taking the necessary measurements for the data sample.
“Was I supposed to?” She asked pretending to be confused.
It was Sukuna's turn. He took off his shirt and shoes to weigh himself. I hated to admit it, but it was an amazing sight. Even though I had seen it several times before, I couldn't get used to it. I tried to look away so that my cupid thoughts wouldn’t take possession of my body.
“How is your brother?” Yuki asked him to obviously annoy him. Sukuna gave him a whiplash with his gaze for even having the nerve to mention his little brother.
“He's fine,” I answered for him so he wouldn't get in trouble in front of the judges. “Great, I'd say,” I said with a mischievous smile.
After the judges recited the rules and both fighters agreed, both teams left the office with a tense air following us closely. Team Black began to leave the scene to return to the hotel after an exhaustive morning training and Todo’s gym went to the gym.
“I hope we have a good fight!” Todo said to Sukuna while shaking his hand.
Todo was friendlier than I imagined. He had a nice smile all the time, was kind to everyone and had an overall good vibe, unlike his coach. Now I understood why Toji Fushiguro wanted to leave the stage, so fighters like Sukuna or Todo could shine. Todo's team continued on their way to the gym, but Yuki stayed behind.
“It's good to see you again, how long has it been since we've seen each other? 2 years?” Yuki asked him, ignoring the rest of her team to focus on Sukuna. She wanted to provoke him, I was sure of that.
“Why don't you go ahead? I have to talk to her,” I said to Sukuna as I stepped between them to distance them.
“Don't do anything stupid,” Sukuna whispered to me before walking away from us.
“I would really appreciate it if you would leave my athlete alone,” I said to Yuki once my team had left the hallway.
“I don't think it's a sin to want to say hello to him,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to greet you after what you did,” I said.
“So he told you. Did you really believe him?” Yuki asked me in disbelief.
“Well, Sukuna's version makes you look like a gold digger and Choso's version makes you look like a whore, which one do you prefer?” I asked defensively.
“I thought you would understand me. You know how hard it is to enter this world as a woman. I needed that job,” Yuki explained, making it clear that Sukuna's version of the story was the truth.
I knew better than anyone that the world of mixed martial arts was complicated for a woman to navigate in. There are perverts everywhere, the other fighters don't take you seriously and the coaches are harder on you. It's a world plagued by men who only see you as a small insignificant being, just because you can't compete directly against them. Women fighters have to work twice as hard as men to secure a place in the industry.
“It's difficult but not impossible. Did you really have to pick on his brother to prove your worth? You only made yourself worse,” I asked, annoyed.
“How sad to see you've changed, Snake,” Yuki sighed. “Who knew? One day you're on top and the next you're working for an idiot like Sukuna Ryomen. Weren't you supposed to hate fighters like him?” she said before wanting to withdraw from the conversation, but she was very wrong if she thought I would let her have the last word.
“It's true that I hate fighters with massive egos like him, but I hate people like you even more,” I told him before following the path where my team had gone.
“People like me?” Yuki wondered.
“Bad and stupid,” I said without looking back. I hoped my point was clear.
I continued my way until I reached the reception. Sukuna was waiting for me in an armchair with his arms crossed while watching a TV in front of him, while the rest of the team was awaiting us at the van. “I thought he would go with the others.”
“You didn't need to do that,” he told me once I got close to him.
“It is, I can't let a piranha get in my pond,” I answered wisely.
“Did you put her on her place?” Sukuna asked me.
“I insulted her in 4 different ways, what do you think?” I joked.
“Good,” he said before getting up from the sofa. “I need a favor.”
Oh no, not again. It was the day before the fight, so I already knew what he was going to ask me. I wouldn't do it, not even if he threw me all his money. I was finally over him, I couldn't fall back into the void I worked so hard to escape from.
“I'm not going to fuck with you,” I told him directly.
“I already knew that,” he replied. My eyebrow raised at that answer.
“Yeah?”
“It's super obvious that you like Choso, and he likes you too,” he answered. I couldn't help but blush knowing that I was acting so obvious around him. “I need you to do me a favor with Yuuji.”
I hadn't packed any cute outfit for the nightlife in Brazil, so I decided to wear jeans with a black fitted t-shirt, what I was supposed to wear for when we got back home. Sukuna told me that Yuuji loves to travel to Brazil for the food. So he asked me to join him for dinner while he does his good luck ritual with a prostitute Gojo got for him.
“Are you ready to eat some good cuts of meat? I asked Yuuji coming out of the bathroom we shared.
“Of course! I hope you have prepared your stomach because we are going to gain 5 pounds after this,” He said excitedly.
We left the room to head towards the reception. While I was getting ready, he had made a list of all the restaurants he wanted to visit during the afternoon. We would start at a restaurant to eat picanha, then to an eatery to try feijoada, and finally we would look for some place that sold quindim or brigaidero.
I listened to Yuuji talk about how delicious Brazilian food is as we rode down the elevator. When the doors opened, we were both shocked to see what was on the other side. There was a girl who looked very much like me in a little red fitted dress that left almost nothing to the imagination. She was not my clone exactly, but her hair, skin tone, face shape and body type were similar. We got out of the elevator and she walked in, greeting us in Portuguese.
“She looked just like you,” Yuuji said to me, still in shock.
“Yeah…” I whispered impressed.
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Text
I Look In People's Windows
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *
Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warnings: angst
Summary: It's been years... years since the breakup. He is no longer yours. He never really was, always keeping you at a distance. But, there were some good times. Maybe that's why you keep hoping to see him again, anywhere. Just one more time.
SR’s Note: Cannot get this song out of my head, and yes I am doing an Eris story! I love writing him. This one ends happy, just trust.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *
The day he left was the day you'd changed.
He'd tried to reason with you, to make you see why you couldn't be together anymore; it was the day his father killed his younger brother's lover.
Perhaps, he changed on that day too.
"You have to go," he'd said. "You have to get out of here. Now." You remembered it like it was yesterday; there was no option for questioning or changing his mind this time. You'd already started crying, before the argument began.
"I don't care, Eris! I love you, I can't just leave..." You could still feel the way your heart broke, split right in two. Eris had been frenzied, frantically gathering your things and packing them in a backpack.
"And I love you! Don't you see that? I mean, really -- don't you get it?" He threw the backpack on the bed, and you'd watched from the doorway, water dripping from your chin and onto the expensive oak flooring.
"I know you're afraid, but-" He charged over to you, taking your wrists in his hands.
"I am not afraid. Of nothing. Of no one." He said, so close you could feel his breath on your nose. You narrowed your watery eyes at him.
"You are." Is all you said. He dropped your hands, returning to the bed and snatching up the backpack. His back had still been turned to you when he said:
"I won't have you end up dead like Jesminda." Another silent sob racked your body, and you tried hard to keep from shaking.
"You know I'd love you to the ends of Prythian, Y/N." He said, voice quieter now as he approached you and slipped your arms into the staps of the pack. "I would do anything for you." A tear slipped past his eyeline. "Hell, I would jump into the cauldron for you-"
"I don't need anyone jumping into anything," you say, brushing your thumb over his tear-stained cheek. "I just need you. Me. I don't want to not know you anymore." The last part came out shakily. "Does it feel alright to not know me?"
His hands pulled your waist close, and he wrapped his arms around you one more time. You remembered feeling his shoulders shaking, your tears staining his mahogony jacket as you buried your face in his chest. You inhaled deep, smelling his campfire and cinnamon scent one more time...
And now here you were, still addicted to the "if only"s. If only he'd let you stay. If only he'd run with you. If only he was still yours...
You hadn't realized you'd wandered out of your neighborhood, and into the town square. The sky was gray and dull; reflecting how you'd felt inside. When was the last time you'd truly seen the sunshine?
On the last day you'd spent with your love.
Meandering through the Autumn court streets was usually peaceful, not many people being out this time of year as the air had turned a bit chilly. You would constantly check inside shops, the big windows highlighting the guests inside. You don't know what you'd do if you saw him now; its been years since he told you to leave. You'd listened, and stayed away; but that didn't help your mind playing tricks on you. Thinking you'd seen him boarding a train; seeing him at the tables of Christmas parties you couldn't bring yourself to attend.
You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the conversations around you, growing more and more as you'd ventured further into the square.
"I heard his kid did it."
"I can't believe the High Lord is actually dead."
"I was told that the oldest son slayed him, out of pure hatred."
What were they talking about? Certainly if they were discussing Lord Beron, you would have heard the news by now. If what they were saying was true and he was really dead, that would mean...
"Ahh, thank you Mariella. You always know exactly why I've come!"
Your body freezes, the whisper of sound drifting from an open doorway to a bakery on your left. You'd recognize that honey-dripped voice anywhere.
You break into a sprint, right for the bakery.
You knew you weren't decieving yourself this time.
Peering in through the storefront, you catch sight of his radiant curls, piled on his head. His genuine smile exposes his perfect canines; a smile you hadn't seen in so long. One you'd never thought you'd see again. He looked almost the exact same, just how you remembered him from all those years ago.
Your breath fogged up the glass, and you wiped it with your sleeve. The small squeak that came from the action caused Eris and the cashier to both peer out at you, and you felt an electricity bolt shoot through you when your eyes met his one more time.
He murnured something quickly to the woman, and raced out of the store. When he cleared the entry way, he stared at you in silence for a few beats, utter shock on his face like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He took one small step towards you, and you couldn't wait any longer. You ran to him and threw your arms around his neck, his wrapping around your waist and twirling you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled back and met those whiskey orbs, solely focused on you. You didn't care who was staring. You didn't care what people said. You only cared about the male in front of you.
"Eris, what... what happened?" You asked, voice breaking as you tried to contain the happy tears running down your face. He only smiled back at you longingly, taking one hand in yours and placing the other in your hair, finally feeling your wispy tendrils he missed so much.
"I feel as though I've waited forever for this," he admits, pulling you in closer. When his lips meet yours, the sweet apple taste is back. One you'd missed for so long. He continues kissing you for a few moments, relishing in the fact that you were finally back in his arms.
"And," he says, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *
#Spotify#acowar#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of frost and starlight#a court of wings and ruin#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#lucien acotar#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vandaddy#lady of autumn#acotar series#rhys acotar#rhysand#rhys x reader#archeron sisters
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