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sequinsmile-x · 25 days ago

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The Way to the Words

Emily struggles to tell Aaron she loves him. At least, she struggles to tell him in English.

AKA - 5 times Emily tells Aaron she loves him in another language, and 1 time she says it in English.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while, but was spurred on to write it after I got an anon about Emily and all of the languages she speaks.

This is soft (because we all deserve softness right now) and hopefully funny in parts! These idiots love each other a whole lot.

Also, just a note that I don't speak any of the other languages in this. Where possible, I have run the line past someone I know who speaks it, or I have run it back and forth through several online translators to make sure it's as correct as I can make it, and read articles on word positioning/how it should be written.

(Second also: I know Arabic is meant to go from right to left, but Tumblr won't let me format it like that, but it is correct on Ao3)

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: the tiniest, smallest, bit of spice possible. Blink and you miss it kind of stuff. (Rated T)

Words: 6.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Technically, she’s the one to say it first. It’s something she tells him years down the line when they talk about the early days of them, her smile soft and sleepy as their baby rests on her chest as she insists that she’d whispered those three little words weeks before he had.

She just so happened to say them in a language he didn’t understand.

The first time, she doesn’t plan it.

They walk back to her apartment after their first date, their hands tangled together as they swing them back and forth ever so slightly. She was anxious. Shy in a way she hadn’t been in years, and she knows it’s everything to do with him and how he makes her feel. It’s something about his smile and the way he looked at her that would make her feel giddy. It would feel ridiculous if it was anyone else. If it wasn’t Aaron, the man she’d been in love with for longer than she could admit even to herself, she’d tell herself to get it together, would remind herself she wasn’t a lovesick teenager but a grown woman.

With him, it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t care that she’d spent hours picking something to wear, or that she’d curled her hair twice. She wanted to make the effort, to take her time for what she knew would be her first last date. A small part of her had worried at first that things would be awkward, but it had been like their dinners usually were, only with hand holding across the table and the occasional kiss exchanged between anecdotes. She wanted to know everything about him, everything big and small, and she wanted him to know everything about her too. Wanted him to help her break through the walls she didn’t know how to tear down herself, wanted to hand him the tools she’d never shared with anyone else.

Her shoulder knocks against his as she digs her keys out of her bag, and he smiles at her, his hand slipping to her hip as she unlocks the door. She looks up at him, sees the uncertainty in his eyes, and leans up to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his.

“Do you want to come in?” She asks, smiling when his eyes go a little wide, his own anxiety about what to do and how to act obvious. He’d told her it had been a long time since he’d been out on a date, that he was unsure how to act and what to do, and she’d kissed him, barely pulling back to tell him that she was out of practice too and that she didn’t expect any more than just him. He had arrived to pick her up with flowers nonetheless, a bunch of sunflowers squished between them when she kissed him as he explained he’d picked flowers that wouldn’t poison Sergio. She places her hand over his on her hip and squeezes, “For a drink,” she smiles and winks at him, “And maybe some more kissing.”

He laughs and nods, “Of course, I’ll come in Em.”

She leads him inside and locks the door behind them, secretly hoping she won’t unlock it again tonight, that he’ll stay in whatever capacity he’s comfortable with and that she’ll wake up next to him in the morning.

“Wine?” She asks, as she walks towards her kitchen, “Or I have a very nice scotch that Dave bought me along with a cast iron skillet as a moving in present.”

Aaron had been her first visitor to her apartment upon her return from Paris, and Dave had been her second. It wasn’t the best place she’d ever lived, but also not the worst. It was good enough for what she needed for now, and the best she could do for a person whose credit score had reset when she’d ‘died,’ and who had only just gained access back to her trust fund. For a few months, whilst legalities were unravelled and everything that had been put in place in the wake of her death was reversed, she’d lived like most people did - on her salary.

Aaron chuckles as he follows closely behind her, his hands in his pockets as he looks her up and down and makes no secret of it, “He got me the same thing when I moved out of the house and into my apartment,” he says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island, “He said no home is complete without one.”

“He said the same to me,” She laughs, “I wonder if he just has a closet full of the things for when someone he knows moves.” She lifts up the bottle of scotch, “So scotch?”

“Yes please.”

She pours them both a generous measure and hands him one of the glasses, her fingers skipping across his as he takes it from her, “Let’s go sit down.”

She sinks against him on the couch, giving him no chance to overthink their closeness or what she’d want. She pulls a nearby throw over their laps and rests her head on his shoulder, the mix of the smell of him and the scotch enough to relax her, a contented sigh escaping her before she could even try to contain it. He wraps his arm around her, his hand against the bare skin of her arm so he can trace patterns against her, chasing a shiver he causes with the callouses on his fingertips.

“You okay?” He asks, and she hums as she nods, tilting her head upwards so she can kiss him, the hand not wrapped around her glass on his cheek so she can hold him in place.

“I’m fine. More than fine,” she says, kissing him again, “Thank you for a lovely date.”

He smiles and holds her closer, “You’re welcome,” he clears his throat, the anxiety he’d felt earlier making a speedy return, “We should do it again soon. If you want.”

“Of course I want to,” she replies, as if it’s obvious - because to her it is - but her smile slips when she sees relief in his eyes and she frowns as she takes his glass of scotch from him and places in on the coffee table with hers, “Aaron, why wouldn’t I want to go on another date with you?”

He shrugs as she turns to look at him properly, her knees pressing against his thigh as she uses the hand on his cheek to make him look at her. He sighs and his hand falls to her knee, his thumb catching the hem of her dress as he runs it back and forth.

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, “I guess I’m waiting for you to realise you could do better than me.”

That’s what does it in the end, what makes the admission she’d been holding back all night escape without warning. Her concern that it’s too soon kicks in too late to say nothing, so she falls back on an old trick from when she was young and wanted to curse at her parents without them knowing.

She speaks in another language.

“Я люблю тебя.”

He furrows his brows together and fights a smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, the use of the nickname making her breath catch in her throat, “I don’t speak…I want to say Russian?”

She chokes on a laugh and nods, “Yeah, that…was Russian,” she presses her lips together, “Sorry, I said ‘nothing’s better than you.’”

If he knows she’s lying, he doesn’t say anything. He nods as he accepts her answer and he leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against hers before he pulls back.

“Nothing is better than you either.”

He stays the night, and when she wakes up with his arms wrapped around her she wishes she’d been brave enough to say it in a way he understood.

___

Two

She grumbles as she sinks onto the couch, curling in on herself as a cramp rolls through her belly. She’s about to talk herself into getting up to take painkillers, her medicine cabinet never having felt further away, when there’s a knock on the door followed by the sound of the key in the lock.

“Sweetheart?”

She groans as she sits up, looking at her boyfriend over the back of her couch, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too,” he quips as he steps into her apartment, holding up a bag from CVS, “I brought you some supplies. I can leave afterwards if you want.”

She hums and watches as he locks the front door behind him, “Where’s Jack?”

“By the time I left the office he’d already eaten with Jess, and when I told him you weren’t feeling very well he told me to come look after you.”

She smiles as he sits next to her, “I really am fine,” she says, taking the bag as he hands it to her, her eyes going wide when she sees the bag full of her favourite candy, painkillers and a couple of boxes of tampons. She looks up at him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t entirely understand, “How did you know? I only told you that my stomach hurt.”

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks, “I lived with Haley most of my adult life. And I am a grown-up. I know what a period is, Em.”

It makes her ache. Makes her feel stupid for even trying to hide this from him in the first place, her jaw tight and her temper wearing thin when she’d almost yelled at him when he asked if she was okay for the dozenth time that day. She’d left the office the moment she could and told him she’d call him later, forcing a smile as familiar cramps she’d felt for most of her life rolled through her. If she was honest with herself, she’d wanted to bask in his comfort. To lean against him as he laid his giant, warm, hand on her stomach like he was her own personal heating pad, but she didn’t how to ask. She should have known that she didn’t need to ask. He’d always been better at figuring out what she needed before she did anyway.

She nods and presses her lips together, “You even got the right brand.”

He shrugs, “I only bought the ones you have in your bathroom.”

She laughs, “I once asked a boyfriend to buy me tampons and he looked at me like I’d asked him to murder someone for me.”

“Well, it sounds like he didn’t deserve you.”

She looks up at him, her lips pressed tightly together, and she reaches out for his hand, “Thanks honey, this is…really sweet.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says and he leans in to kiss her cheek but she turns her head to capture his lips instead. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he kisses her again, lingering a little longer this time, and she sighs into it, “I can go home if you’d rather be alone.”

She’s shaking her head before she can even really think about it, “No,” she replies, “I want you to stay.”

He kisses her before he pulls back, “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, and bring you some water so you can take your painkillers. And then we’ll watch whatever sci-fi nonsense you want to watch.”

She scoffs in fake annoyance, “It’s not nonsense,” she grumbles, narrowring her eyes at him playfully, “And I’ll have you know I was thinking of watching Die Hard.”

He furrows his brow as he turns to look at her, “That’s a Christmas movie.”

She groans and flops back onto the couch, tearing a pack of the candy he’d brought her open, “Don’t tell me I’m dating a guy who thinks Die Hard is a Christmas movie.”

He raises his eyebrow at her from her kitchen counter, the tin of hot chocolate mix in his hands, “It’s set at Christmas.”

“That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie, honey. There’s no small town girl visiting home from the big city for the holidays,” she says, unable to fight her smile when he smiles widely at her, the warmth of it settling over her like a comforting blanket from across the room, “And there’s no Santa Claus, and Kate Winslet doesn’t swap houses with Cameron Diaz,” she pops some candy into her mouth, “It’s not a Christmas movie.”

“You’ve given this some thought,” he replies, smiling fondly at her, his eyes sparkling like she’d hung the stars themselves, “I guess we can watch it. Even if it is set at Christmas.”

She throws a piece of candy at him, her fake irritation dying when he picks it up from the counter and eats it, the way he waggles his eyebrows drawing a laugh out of her.

She rests her head in his lap when he joins her on the couch, her back to him as they watch the movie and he switches between playing with her hair and placing his hand on her belly unprompted, once again anticipating her needs. It was strange feeling loved like this, because she knew that’s what this was even if they hadn’t admitted it to each other yet. She’d never been cared for and enjoyed it or felt as if the other person wasn’t doing it out of obligation.

She finds herself stuck again between wanting to say it and not being able to push past her fear. Instead, she reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, dragging them to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles as she mumbles against them, whispering so he doesn’t hear the Arabic she presses against his skin.

"أحبك"

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

She shakes her head and turns back to look at him, “Nothing. Just…thank you for looking after me.”

He stops himself from repeating what he’d said earlier and he nods, pushing her hair from her face, “Anytime.”

___

Three

She’s bored of feeling like an exhibit at the zoo.

Ever since she and Aaron had told the team about their relationship they’d been watching them closely, their attempts at hiding their fascination with their relationship almost non-existent. At work, it was bad enough, but here, in Dave’s house, as they had dinner together, it annoyed her. Every time they touched each other, or showed each other the tiniest bit of affection, the team would smile and nudge each other.

She eventually excuses herself from the living room to the kitchen to get another glass of wine, needing a moment without being stared at so she doesn’t snap at some of the people she loves most in the world.

She sighs and takes a large gulp of wine, closing her eyes as she swallows it, desperately trying to calm herself down, to soothe her fraying nerves.

“Are you okay sweetheart?”

She turns and smiles when she hears Aaron’s voice and she blows out a breath, “I just needed a minute.”

He nods and points over his shoulder back towards the living room, “Do you want me to go?”

She loves him for it. Loves how well he knows her and how well he loves her, and she shakes her head and offers him a hand, “Never.”

He walks over and wraps his arms around her, “They mean well. They just have to get used to it.”

She hums and loops her arms around his neck, “I know. I just wish they’d get used to it faster,” she huffs, “I hate feeling like a zoo animal.”

“I know,” he says, running his hand up and down her back, “Me too.” He says, and she leans in to kiss him, pulling him closer as she sighs into it. When she pulls back, he stamps another kiss against her lips, “That’s a nice wine.”

She chuckles, running her fingers through the short hair at the base of his head, “Barolo del Comune di La Morra,” she says, nodding towards the bottle on the kitchen island, “It’s Italian. Very nice wine. Not that you’d expect anything less from Dave.”

“Say that again,” he says, his smile wide and bright, his eyes sparkling with as close to mischief as they ever did, “The name of the wine.”

She presses her lips together and leans in to kiss him again, punctuating each word with a kiss, “Barolo…del…Comune…di…La…Morra.”

He barely hides a moan as she pulls back, just about able to remember where they were as he squeezes her hips, “You’re so beautiful,” he says, “Say something else.”

She giggles, something only he was able to draw out of her, “In Italian?” She asks, and he nods. It feels like an invitation to carry on doing what she’d unintentionally started, and she leans in to kiss him, only pulling back far enough to speak, “Penso che tu sia l'amore della mia vita.”

He smiles, even though he doesn’t understand, “What does that mean?”

“I love the wine,” she says, hating that she can’t tell him the truth, that she can’t push past the fear she isn’t entirely sure she understands, “And you’re handsome.”

He leans in to kiss her again, but they are stopped by someone clearing their throat in the doorway. Emily feels her cheeks go warm when she looks up to see Dave standing there, the look on his face letting her know just how much he’d heard.

“Well, this is adorable.”

She feels Aaron’s grip on her tighten and she lets her arms slip down from around his neck and she squeezes his hand.

“Why don’t you go back through, honey?” She suggests, squeezing his hand again, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He almost questions it, she can see the argument he has with himself over it, but he nods instead, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he steps away, his hands in his pockets and his smile tight as he walks past Dave. She waits until he is out of earshot and she crosses her arms over her chest, “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know you’re playing a dangerous game,” Dave replies as he walks closer to her, “So…you love him?”

“I…” she trails off, the words caught in her chest and she groans, tightening her arms over her chest.

“Relax, bella. Even Reid only has to look at you to know you two love each other,” he says, smirking when she glares at him, “So why didn’t you tell him the truth? Worried he doesn’t feel the same way? Because I think it would be less of a waste of time to wonder if the Pope is Catholic.”

She sighs and shakes her head, “No, it’s not that. I know he feels the same way. It’s just…” She blows out a shaky breath and laughs at herself, “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never loved someone this much. It’s like my happiness depends on his, and it’s fucking terrifying.”

He stares at her for a moment, his smirk disappearing as he nods in understanding, “I know it is,” he replies, patting her shoulder, “But you’ll get there. Take it from an old man who’s been around the block a few times. What you two have is rare,” he smiles at her, “I’m actually annoyed at myself for not seeing it sooner.”

She smiles, “What, me and Aaron?”

He nods, “I should have put money on you two years ago. You’ll get there, Emily. And he won’t mind if it takes a while. Because he loves you too.”

She presses her lips together and nods, because she knows he’s right, “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me,” he says, winking at her, “Just make sure Aaron makes me best man when you get married.”

She rolls her eyes and fights off the desire to tell him to shut up, or deny that it was where this was all going, “I think that’s his choice, don’t you?”

“Okay,” he says, shrugging at her, “Godfather of your firstborn then.”

She scoffs, the sound turning into a laugh when it’s halfway out, and she can’t stop herself this time, “Oh shut up, Dave.”

The thought of it makes her giddy, makes her stomach flip in a pleasant way, and she can’t shift her smile for the rest of the evening.

___

Four

Emily sighs contentedly as she flips the page of her book, snuggling further into the comfort of Aaron’s bed, the scent of him lingering on the sheets.

The bedside table on her side of his bed was starting to look like hers. It’s where she kept the book she was reading and her favourite hand cream and other trinkets that had somehow ended up at his place. A necklace she’d taken off after work one day and left there. Her father’s watch. It was already starting to feel like home. But she had a feeling that had more to do with the little boy asleep down the hall and the man whose bed she was in, not the apartment itself.

She was starting to spend more of her nights here than she wasn’t. She’d go home to feed Sergio, to scratch his head and sit with him for a while, and then she’d go to Aaron’s, let herself in with the key he’d given her weeks ago, and spend the night. He kept telling her to bring Sergio over with her, that he’d happily get a litter tray, food and whatever he needed, and it made her love him more. She was slightly resistant, not only because Sergio didn’t seem to like him that much, but because it felt like a huge step forward. An admittance that she couldn’t bring herself to say yet no matter how much she wanted to.

The bedroom door opens and she looks up, her smile wide as she puts her book down, “Is Jack okay?”

Aaron nods as he climbs into bed next to her, “He’s asleep,” he says, smiling as he pulls the covers over his lap and tugs her close, “He said he wants you to do bedtime next time.”

She bites her lower lip, desperately trying to hold in a smile, her love for the two of them threatening to burst out of her, “Really?”

“Really,” he says, kissing her forehead, “I’m not the only Hotchner in love with you.” She freezes, her shoulders tight as the admission washes over her, a choking sound of sorts escaping her. It seems to alert Aaron to what he’d said, and his eyes go wide. He swallows thickly and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I…mean it Em. I might not have meant to blurt it out that way,” he says, smiling when she does too, “But I mean it. I love you.”

Her silence is loud, echoing around them before it weighs heavily on them, settling on their shoulders as she tries and fails to say anything, “I…”

She feels like a failure. Like a coward, because what was so wrong with her that she couldn’t tell the man she was in love with that she loved him. She curses every bad relationship she’d ever had, she curses her parents, and everyone who ever made it hard for her to accept love and affection, because Aaron deserved someone who could give that to him without thought.

He deserved so much more than she could give him right now, and it made her ache.

“Em,” he says, his smile too kind, “I’m not expecting you to say anything back,” he adds, pulling her closer, “I didn’t even mean to say it myself yet,” he stamps his lips against hers, “It’s okay.” It doesn’t feel okay. It feels ridiculous and she surges forward, her hands on his cheeks as she holds him in place, deepening the kiss so she can show him how she feels even if she can’t say it yet. She shifts so she’s in his lap, rolling her hips against his as she wraps her arms around his neck. He tenses, his hands firm on her hip as he tries to pull back “Sweetheart-”

She can see the doubt in his eyes, not in her, but in what she was trying to do, “Aaron,” she kisses him again, knocking her nose against his as she rests their foreheads together, “Please.”

He looks at her carefully, tries to see the tiniest piece of uncertainty in her eyes, and he nods when he doesn’t find it, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers before he kisses her again. They undress each other slowly, and he rolls them so she’s under him, trapped between the warmth of his body and the sheets beneath her. It’s soft. Tender in a way she hadn’t known existed before him, something that she thinks would make her feel exposed with anyone else, and she links her fingers through his afterwards, lifting their hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles as she smiles at him, hoping he knows what she can’t put into words he understands yet.

He falls asleep before her. It’s rare. Usually, she fell asleep first and woke up last, comforted by his arms and the safety that seemed to come with them. She lays there in the dark next to him, his arm heavy and warm over her waist, his breath even as it skips across the back of her neck, and she berates herself for not being able to give him what he needed, what she so desperately wanted to give him.

Eventually, she turns in his arms, looks at him in the dark, his features just about visible now her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. He looked younger like this, boyish almost, and it makes her love him more. She reaches out and strokes his cheek, smiling when he twitches but doesn’t wake up, his head moving in the direction of her hand, chasing her and her presence even in sleep.

“Aaron,” she whispers, waiting to see if he’s awake, if his breathing changes, and when it doesn't she sighs, “Te quiero. Siento no poder decirlo todavía. Pero te quiero.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek and lingers there for a moment before she lays back against his chest, snuggles into him as deeply as she can and she closes her eyes, hoping she’ll fall asleep.

When she wakes up in the morning, he’s already awake and smiling at her, and it somehow makes her feel worse.

___

Five

“I can’t do it.”

Aaron tries to hide his smile, she’ll give him that. He tries to swallow it down but fails as he turns to look at her and raises his eyebrow at her. She glares at him from her side of the couch and kisses the top of Sergio’s head twice in quick succession, scratching under his chin as she does so.

“I’ve seen you stare a serial killer in the eyes and not blink,” he clears his throat to hide a laugh, “But you can’t give your cat medication?”

She huffs out a breath and holds Sergio closer as she pouts in a way she’d deny if Aaron brought it up. Sergio had an ear infection, and whilst he’d been strangely okay with her cleaning his ears, he was resistant to medication. He’d eaten around it when she’d tried to hide it in his food, had ignored treats she’d tried to stuff it inside. He was refusing to take it, and that meant she had to make him take it.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” she says, tearing her gaze away from Sergio to look up at Aaron, “Or for him to be afraid of me.”

She watches as Aaron nods, once again stifling a smile, and she wonders if he’s going to tell her she’s as being as ridiculous as she feels. Instead, he sighs and offers his hands out, “I’ll do it.”

She tilts her head at him in confusion, “What?”

“He already hates me,” Aaron says, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

“He doesn’t hate you-”

“He does, sweetheart,” he replies, his smile getting wider, “But if I do it, it’s not like he can hate me anymore, and his love for you will remain intact.”

She knows it’s irrational, but she almost wants to be mad at him for the way he makes her love him even more. He was willing to do this for her, willing to accept her, admittedly silly, concerns about her cat hating her, and do what she couldn’t bring herself to do. For a moment, she pictures him holding a baby that was half her and half him whilst they took them to get their shots so she didn’t have to, and then passing the baby back over as soon as the deed was done so she could be their source of comfort. She has to shake her head to get rid of the image, to remember the soft weight in her arms was Sergio and not a small baby, and she sighs and nods as she passes him over. Sergio meows in displeasure, wiggling as he proves Aaron’s point as he tries to get a hold of him.

“Do you have the medication?” Aaron asks, raising his eyebrow at her as she actively ignores his poorly hidden smirk as Sergio pushes his paw against Aaron’s face. She nods and hands him one of the pills and he takes it from her. He’s gentle as he grasps Sergio’s head and tilts it backwards until his nose is pointing upwards and his jaw opens slightly. Aaron drops the pill into his mouth and then lowers his head back down, holding his mouth closed until he visibly swallows, “There we go,” Aaron says, smiling at her as he lets go of Sergio, who immediately walks over to Emily’s side of the couch and climbs in her lap, meowing all the way, “And look at that, he still loves you.”

She smiles at him, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks, and she snuggles Sergio against her chest, making sure she’s giving him plenty of head scratches as she does so, “Tell me all about it, baby. What did the mean man do to you?”

Aaron chuckles and leans in to kiss her temple, “If he didn’t hate me already, he will by the time his course of antibiotics is done with.”

She hums and turns her head, capturing his lips with hers, “Thank you. I know it’s silly-”

“You’ve never been silly a day in your life,” he says, kissing her again, “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes please, honey,” She nods and presses her lips together, the words getting the closest to escaping as they ever had, the way he looked after her in ways she never could have pictured almost tipping her over the edge, whatever had been holding her back getting weaker by the day, “There’s some red wine on the counter.”

“Coming right up,” he says, winking at her before he stands. It makes Sergio hiss at him, and Aaron throws her a look that could only say I told you so as he walks away.

“You have to be nice to Aaron, you know,” she says, talking to Sergio as she scratches between his ears, “He’s not going anywhere,” she sighs, “Je l’aime aussi. Je ne peux juste pas le dire.”

“Did you say something, sweetheart?” Aaron asks as he walks back into the room. She shakes her head when she looks up at him, smiling when she sees the two glasses and the bottle of wine in his hands, and the pack of her favourite candy dangling off his finger.

She wanted to say it to him, but after everything, after not being able to say it back when he’d said it to her a couple of weeks ago, she wanted it to mean something.

“No,” she replies as he sits next to her, “I was just talking to Sergio.”

He nods in understanding and puts the wine and her candy down on the coffee table, “Speaking of Sergio,” he says, opening up his palm to reveal a treat in his hand, “I thought he deserved this for being so brave.” He offers his hand out to Sergio who looks at him suspiciously for a few moments before he happily eats the treat out of his hand and starts purring. Aaron laughs and takes the opportunity to scratch between Sergio’s ears, which the cat leans into, “Maybe he’ll love me after all.”

“Yeah,” she replies, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her smile, “He’d be a fool not to.”

___

+ One

“Anyone want to go for a drink?”

Emily drops her pen down on her desk and turns to face the others, “I’m up for it.”

“Of course you are, princess,” Derek says, smirking when she glares at him, “Do you think you could convince Hotch?”

She smiles, “I could convince him of anything.”

Derek groans, “God, I don’t want to know that.”

She laughs as she stands up and she winks at him, “You asked. You okay to gather everyone else?”

He nods and she walks up to Aaron’s office. She takes a moment to watch him through the window. He has his head down, his focus on the paperwork in front of him, and he looks every part of the stern, focused man she’d first met. He looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers, and then he smiles at her, a flash of her Aaron peeking out from beneath Hotch in the very room she’d met him in. He gives her a small nod and she walks in, making sure she closes the door behind her.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

She nods and walks over to his desk, keeping a respectable distance because she knows the others will be watching, “I’m okay. Derek is organising everyone to go out for drinks. I’ve been sent to rally you.”

He chuckles, “They already know I can’t say no to you.”

“Honey, we all know that,” she replies, “So is that a yes?”

Aaron smiles, “I’d love to, but I have budgets to do, unfortunately, they’re important,” he says, his smile getting wider when she looks disappointed, “I could meet you later though.”

“Yeah?” She asks, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, and he nods, “Okay, so we’ll meet you there?”

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, her smile, and winks at her, “See you later.”

She smiles and turns to the door, reaching out for the handle as she replies, “See you later. Love you.”

It takes her a moment to realise what she’s said, and she freezes, her breath caught in her chest as the words float in the air around them, as light as a feather in comparison to the heavy weight it had been on her shoulders for weeks now. She almost laughs, the absurdity at the easy, simple way she said it after she’d overthought it for so long not lost on her. The admission as simple as it was beautiful, as if they’d exchanged it as often as they had kissed, as if it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. Like it was something she’d said countless times before. She smiles to herself as she turns around because, in some ways, she has said it before.

This was just the first time he’d understood her.

She smiles nervously at him when their eyes meet, “Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat, “That…that wasn’t how I intended on saying that for the first time.”

He stares at her for a moment like she’s a skittish animal, like she might bolt if he made even the slightest of movements. He’d been careful to not tell her again since that first time a couple of weeks ago, like he was scared he’d push her away. He’d get part way through and then stop himself, smiling at her in a way that could only mean you know how I feel. It had hurt more than she thought it would, something that made her feel hypocritical because she hadn’t said it at all.

She’s mad at herself for letting it slip like this because she’d wanted it to be special. But then he smiles at her in a room he’d once scowled at her in on that first day they’d met, and she doesn’t think it could have been any more perfect if she’d planned it. It was like their love story had permeated the walls. Like it was carved into them in a way someone would find in years to come when they were gone. When they’d moved on to somewhere new, their future still laid out in front of them as they stood by each other’s side.

“No, don’t apologise. Never apologise for this,” he says, finally snapping into action, his pen hitting his desk with a thunk as he stands up. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to pull her into a hug or kiss, but then he remembers where they are, his eyes darting to the window of his office and the team all in the bullpen. He stops right in front of her and grabs her hand, their linked fingers out of view from everyone else, “I love you.”

She presses her lips together and nods, every reason she had for being too afraid to tell him gone as if they’d never existed, “I love you too. I have for a long time. I hope you know it was never because I didn’t love you. I just…”

“I know,” he replies, squeezing her hand, “And I would have waited forever.”

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, “Forever? That would have been awkward at our wedding one day.”

He laughs too and runs his thumb back and forth over her pulse point, “We would have made it work.”

She wants nothing more than to kiss him, but she knows she can’t, not here anyway, and she blows out a breath, “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Me too,” he says, looking at her like she was the only thing in existence, like the world could burn around them and he wouldn’t notice because he was looking at her, “Later.”

“Later,” she repeats, “I don’t want to go for drinks with the team anymore. I just want to go home with you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for us, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand again, their palms practically fused together, as if they were merging into one, one soul that had been split into two for all eternity until now, “Let’s go spend some time with our friends.

“Plenty of time?” She repeats in a question, as if she didn’t already know he was it, that they were it, and he was the answer to the question she’d never known to ask.

“Forever,” he confirms, and she swallows thickly, her heart almost beating out of her chest as she nods in response.

“Forever.”

#emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss #hotchniss fan fic

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fangirlstorycreator · 7 months ago

Text

CK Terry Silver X Reader

Context: You and Terry have always been very physical, but with work being so busy lately, there simply hasn't been enough time. That is, until he surprises you with a trip to Paris! And a few (Other) surprises once your there too....😏

This is written in request from @kimbergoldess, based on her picture on her tumblr page 💚

Contains: NSFW, s#xual content, s#xual intercourse, rough male #ral receiving, female #ral receiving, intimate toys, dirty talk, rough s#x, dom-sub (No Minors!)

Work work work, that's all that life seemed to be lately. You'd been running your own successful hair salon while your fiancee Terry had been running his own company, the Cobra Kai dojo. You yourself had been a sensei in the past and were tempted to ask Terry if you could join the dojo with him and John, but you didn't, worrying it would be stepping on his or John's toes. They built Cobra Kai together, and as much as you loved karate, you respected their friendship and wouldn't do anything to spoil that. The hair salon was an ok place to work, but you pretty much just did it to pay the bills. Terry, being Terry, had told you countless times that money wasn't an issue, and that you didn't have to work when bills at yours and his house was taken care of. But you were a strong and independent woman, and wanted to put something towards the home and your lives, you were the farthest thing from someone who would mooch of their partner for money. Infact, that's one of the first things Terry ever told you that he admired about you, and he loved that someone wanted to be with and around him because of who he was, not because of his money.

It was true, being with Terry was amazing, and every moment spent together was wonderful. It's just a shame that hasn't been the case as of late. With your salon being fully booked and Terry trying his hardest to keep John in check as well as the dojo, it felt like the hours spent having quality time with Terry during the week could all be counted on one hand. You tried your hardest not to let it get to you, but you loved him so much and would imagine him holding you, kissing your forhead and feeling his heartbeat as your head laid upon his chest. Those little things were so special to you. Plus, there were MANY occasions that you imagined you and Terry getting down and dirty! It had been about 3 weeks since you were both last intimate, and you could feel that tention down to your core. Terry was someone who worshiped your body like a goddess, took pleasure in your pleasure and would never fail in making you feel incredible. It's no wonder you would be sat in your salon office on your break sometimes, lost in imagination at the possibly of Terry surprising you at work, barging into your office and taking you right there on the desk.

Someone knocking on your door or the office phone ringing would shake you out of it, and a lot of the time, you hated when that happened. But at the end of the day, maybe this is what happens when work gets in the way, maybe there just isn't enough time to spend with the man you love, despite that being all you want in the world. That day, everyone had finished with their clients early and you decided to close for a half day, it would make a nice change to go home early for you and the rest of your staff. And maybe, you could make a nice dinner for Terry and try and spend some time with him this evening, it definitely felt like you needed him recently. However, to your suprise when you opened the front door to the house, you see Terry. Why wasn't he at work? He's just stood in the living room drinking a coffee and checking off a list with what looks like a suitcase.

"Sweetheart! I was about to come and get you from work!"

"Really? Why? And why do you have a suitcase?"

"I've been packing"

"Packing for?"

You were utterly lost, but Terry just smiled at you. Putting down his coffee, he walked over to you and cradled your face with his hands, leaning in and kissing you so deeply you felt a little dizzy one you both pulled away.

"Wow...it's been a while since you kissed me like that babe"

"I know sweetheart, and I'm sorry I haven't been doing that enough. Look, I know work's been keeping us apart these last few weeks and I haven't had a chance to spend some quality time with you and show you how much I love you and miss you, and that changes today"

"And that's why you decided to pack a suitcase?"

"It's why I'm taking you to Paris tonight"

"What?!"

"(Chuckles) Why so suprised sweetheart?"

"Well duh?! You just said Paris! You remember we live in LA right?"

"Yes I am fully aware. But my private jet can get us to Paris quicker than you can say Tu es l'amour de ma vie"

"Terry, babe, why Paris? And why do this in general?"

"Because you mean the world to me sweetheart. I want to show you how much I love you"

"Terry, you don't have to spend money on me to show me that"

"I know. But that doesn't mean I can't treat you with my money from time to time"

"And that's why you were going to pick me up from work? To suprise me with this trip?"

"I absolutely was. So? Do you want to get a suitcase ready? I've got mine done"

"But what about work? I can't just leave the salon without telling the staff or finding cover for myself"

"Don't you worry, I've already seen to that. I called Sadie, your salon deputy manager and asked her to keep the salon going while your away"

"Really?"

"Yes, and she sounded very happy to do that for you"

"Well...alright then! It would be nice to spend some time away with you babe"

"My thoughts exactly"

"By the way, what was that thing you said in French?"

"Tu es l'amour de ma vie. In english it means you are the love of my life"

"Awww Terry, your so sweet, and such a romantic"

"You bring that side out of me sweetheart"

Now it was you who gives him a kiss. Moving your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders, smiling as he leans down and you lock your lips with his. His kiss was warm, comforting and electrifying all at once, especially when his large, strong hands grip at your hips and hold your closer to his own body. Just these 2 kisses you have shared with Terry right now alone was more than either of you have felt in weeks, and both of you could feel the tention. Biting his own lip and looking down on you, he raised an eye and chuckled.

"I've seen that naughty look before Terry.. what're you planning?"

"Oh you'll see when we get to Paris sweetheart...now go and get packed and we can go as soon as your ready. Oh! And don't forget to bring that sexy little blue and black lingerie with you"

"Mmm? Planning on seeing me in it are you?"

"If by seeing it you, you mean me ripping it off with my teeth this evening..."

"Well then....I'll go and pack now..."

You say seductively, running your hand down his chest as you walk towards the stairs. You didn't see it, but Terry shivered, your touch was always intoxicating. You couldn't believe your luck! You were more than excited to be going away with your fiancee, and have some fun too! In Paris of all places! You started grabbing a few things when a thought suddenly occured to you, you didn't know how long you were going for, how much do you pack? Shouting downstairs to Terry, you say

"Babe?"

"Yes?"

"How long are we going away for? I just want to know how much to pack"

"I've booked us for 2 weeks"

"2 weeks?! I didn't think you'd wanna stay away from the dojo that long"

"I've been away from you long enough, if I could have made it a month I would have"

Aww he was so sweet. Now knowing how long your away for, you pack everything you'd need for that amount of time, plus that lingerie he asked for, it really was his favourite. For some reason, when you wore THAT lingerie, he almost turned feral in the bedroom, but you have never EVER complained. And seeing as it was going to be a fortnight, you grabbed a little black bag from your bedside drawer, with a new dress you bought for when you and Terry could have your next date night. Well, now it's going to be a date fortnight. Rushing downstairs with your suitcase, your full of smiles as you see Terry holding the door for you.

"I'll take the suitcases sweetheart, you get comfortable in the car"

He was such a gentleman. You gave him a little kiss on his cheek as you walk out the door and towards the car, even after years of being together, his fingertips lightly touched the cheek you kissed him, and he blushed all over. It was a very quick drive to the airport, and you know Terry told you he had a private jet but this! This thing was like something you see in a James Bond film! It was so fancy, large, and had a carpet leading up to the open door and what looked like a butler waiting to take the suitcases for us. The driver of the car dropped you and Terry right next to this plane and right next to the entrance, like you were going to a red carpet event. And despite you having your own driver, Terry was the one who got out and opened your car door, taking your hand as you stood out. Whenever there was a moment he could be a gentleman to you, he would take it. The man on the carpet welcomed you both in and you and Terry got comfortable and ready for take off, it was only a few minutes before you were already in the air and on your way to Paris. It was starting to get dark outside when you looked out of the window, and could see the lights start to come on in the streets and houses below. It hadn't occured to you how tired you actually were, and after your dinner on the jet with Terry, you tried your best to hide the yawns.

"Aww sweetheart, your tired?"

"Just a little"

"Why don't we get an early night? There's a private bedroom in the back that has everything we need, plus an ensuite that's just for us"

"But aren't we going to Paris tonight? I assumed we'd wait till we got there and crashed in a hotel?"

"Oh no no, that's definitely not happening. I have a private Villa waiting for us in Paris, we're not going to be cooped up in a hotel for two weeks. Plus, it's going to be quite a while till we reach Paris"

"Really? How long?"

"About 10 maybe 11 hours"

"Wow! I didn't realise it would be that long"

"Yes, but that's the good thing about having a private jet. When the plane journey IS long, there's no having to sleep in an awkward position in an upright chair, or next to a stranger who snores or drools. And definitely not having a stewardess wake you up to see if you would like a packet of peanuts, and even if you DO want some, half the bag is air"

"Something tells me you're much happier flying in this plane than normal ones babe"

"Absolutely sweetheart. Now, shall we get some sleep?"

"Just sleep?"

"Oh my sweet Y/N...I know your eager to spend time together, as I am too. But I can see your struggling to keep your eyes open, and trying to hide when you yawn. Trust me, when we're in Paris there will be ample opportunities for us to make up for lost time. And maybe, if your lucky....something a little fun to bring into the bedroom..."

"Ok, now I'm definitely curious!"

"And your definitely tired. Come on, let's get some sleep, and tomorow we will have some fun"

You knew you couldn't argue with him on this, even though you'd love to get down and dirty with him right now, you simply couldn't keep your eyes open. You both headed to the bedroom, which was surprisingly spacious. The bed looked so soft and warm, and very bouncy. Terry had started getting a few essentials out of his bag as you cured up on the bed, he had no idea that you had passed out mere seconds before he was about to turn to you and speak.

"Sweetheart? I seem to have forgotten my phone charger. Can I-"

He stopped in his tracks when he turned to see you fast asleep, curled up on the bed in such an adorable way. Tutting and smiling happily at you, he couldn't deny how much he loved you, in his eyes, you were perfect. He poped into your handbag and grabbed your charger, put his phone on charge, went to brush his teeth then came back and started getting undressed. Just down to his boxers, he didn't want to bother the staff with getting his silk dressing gown from his suitcase. He carefully pulled the quilt cover from under you, slid in beside and pulled the cover back up. He was the best and warmest big spoon ever, and even when you were fast asleep, you could sence he was there, and smiled through your sleepiness. Snuggling in and holding you in his arms, Terry very soon fell asleep too. What felt like a short nap later, you awake in Terry's arms, and then turn your head slightly to see him fast asleep while he's holding you.

You couldn't get enough of this man, he's absolutely amazing. Slipping out from his embrace and trying not to wake him, you climb out of the bed and tiptoe around to get your spare clothes from your large handbag. Then make your way into the unsuit to take a shower. You hadn't flown in a private jet before and were suprised to see a window in the shower cubicle, which was now shining lovely and bright with the blue sky. Who would have thought a nice hot shower above the clouds would be so peaceful and luxurious? You spent a good 30 minutes in there, and when you were finished you felt awake and refreshed. Terry was still asleep when you came back into the room, and your stomach started to rumble, so you slipped out when you were dressed to see if there was anything in the jet to snack on before you arrive. To your suprise, you only had to walk a few feet before the air hostess walked up to you pushing a shiny silver trolley, laden with fresh fruits, warm pastries, bacon and eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice and piping hot coffee.

"Good morning miss L/N, did you and mr Silver sleep well?"

"Yes we did thank you. Well, Terry's still asleep"

"Wonderful. Well, I was about to knock on the door to bring you this, unless you'd like me to come back later?"

"Nope, that's alright. I can bring it in if that's alright?"

"Of course, do let me know if there's anything else you need"

"Thank you, uhh?"

"Milly"

"Milly, lovely name"

"Thank you miss L/N"

"Please, call me Y/N"

When you brought the trey into the bedroom, Terry was still asleep, but he had rolled over since you left, and he was now lead on his back, in just his boxers. You couldn't take your eyes off him, lying there looking so damn good, you wondered if it was the food making it steem up in hear instead of your older and smoking hot fiancee spread out on the bed like the silver fox that he was. When you began to pour a coffee for you and him, Terry started to stir and sat up in the bed, rubbing his face in his hands to wake himself up a little.

"Morning gorgeous"

"Good morning sweetheart. I didn't know you were awake?"

"Yeh, I woke up about an hour ago. Milly the lovely lady who's our air hostess was sweet and made us a breakfast platter, with fresh coffee too"

"That's great, I could do with a coffee"

As he sat up and on the edge of the bed, you came and sat beside him, handing him his coffee and taking a sip of your own.

"Oooohhh that's good coffee, thank you sweetheart. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked so peaceful, and noone told us we're there yet so I let you sleep in. It's not just me who's been working very hard the last few weeks, you clearly needed it"

"I suppose you have a point"

He took another sip of coffee, and you couldn't help but admire him. His messy long silver hair, his braud chest, his strong thighs as he wears just his boxers.

"What are you staring at sweetheart?"

"Just my gorgeous fiancee"

"Gorgeous? Like this?"

"If I was sat on this bed wearing just my bra and underwear with messy bed hair, wouldn't you be thinking the same thing?"

"Touche (chuckles)"

He reached over and put his coffee down when your hand slid across the cover and started to feel up and down his rock hard thigh, warm to the touch and so muscular.

"Mmm, like me like this do you?"

"Oh yeh Terry, I don't want to keep my hands off you..."

"Then don't..."

Without warning, he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap, right before spinning himself with you and lying you back on the bed. With him now both leaning on top of you and his hips placed perfectly inbetween your legs. His kiss was hungry, and his tounge had a slight coffee taste, but you didn't mind in the slightest. With your hands on his shoulder and his running up your thigh, it had been so long since he touched you like this that you wanted him to take you then and there. Hot! And dirt-

"Mr Silver? Miss L/N? We are about 20 minutes from landing"

Oh god damn it! Why of all times did someone have to knock and interrupt?!

"Thank you Milly, we'll be out shortly"

Terry shouted as he huffed, disappointment in his face as he climbed back off you and sat at the end of the bed. You sat up too, and both shared an embarrassed yet annoyed look.

"Well...seems we're going to have to wait...again"

You say, feeling deflated. You'd have taken Terry then and there if you had the chance. His heart broke when you said that, and he couldn't help but hold your face and kiss you, still lingering a little when he pulled away.

"We'll have all the time we want when we're in Paris sweetheart. Having our own Villa, pool, jacuzzi, balcony...bedroom...and much more"

"While that all sounds amazing babe, and I'm going to enjoy every moment...if Milly hadn't interrupted us I would have probably would've destroyed you and this bed"

"Mmmm...(kiss) And I would have savored every....single...second...(kiss) Now why don't you pack up your stuff, and I'll grab a shower. By the time were both done it should be time to get our seatbelts back on"

He stood and walked towards the unsuit, and you couldn't help but check out his perfect tight ass.

"I'd rather be wearing your belt...it was always surprisingly comfortable when you tied my hands in it"

"Hmhm...I can't wait to get you into that Villa and back on your knees..."

"Is that a promise?..."

Terry simply smirked, and gave you a devilish look, it was the look that always made you melt. And just as planned, Terry took a shower and you packed your things you used in the flight. You had sat back in the middle of the jet and poped your belt on when Terry was finishing up, and that's where Milly came by and offered you a drink.

"Hear we are Y/N"

"Thanks Milly"

A few moments later, Terry comes and takes a seat beside you, putting on his belt and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"You ready for Paris sweetheart?"

"More than ready Terry, it'll be so nice to get away from the stress of work for a while. What's the plan when we land?"

"Well I have a chauffeur waiting for us when we land, it's just gone 9 am so we can get him to drive us to a lovely restaurant on the shore line"

"What for babe?"

"Well, we were served breakfast. But we got kind of caught up in another matter, remember?"

"There's no way I'm forgetting"

"(Chuckles) Well, once we've had something to eat, it will take a while to drive to the Villa, so we should unpack, maybe take a nice stroll along the beach, see some of the wildlife and...."

"And?...."

"And then come back for some well deserved, and definitely uninterrupted quality time together. And trust me, it's going to be worth the wait"

"It's always worth the wait babe, it's you"

"Your so sweet, and you know I feel exactly the same way. However...I do have a little suprise waiting for us in the Villa"

"Oooo! What is it?"

"Ah ah ah, I can't tell you. Your going to have to....be a good girl..."

"And what if I'm a really bad one?....."

"Even better..."

Time seemed to go by so quick when you and Terry got off the flight, people took your bags, drove you hear and there, and you had never had an airport visit this smooth and calm before. You've always had bad experiences at the airport, flights getting cancelled, loosing luggage or being sat next to a (Karen) who would complain about EVERYTHING! But with Terry, it was smooth sailing. You both did indeed stop by a nice place for breakfast. It wasn't 5 star, and you were happy about that, you wanted something normal and down to earth. It was just a simple boulangerie that has these beautiful scents of freshly backed baguettes and pain au chocolat, it was amazing. You and Terry shared a fresh baguette with butter, you and him simply tore the bread apart as it was still warm out of the over and spread a little butter on it, how can something to simple be so delightful? Then you and Terry drove to the Villa, which looked like it had been hand carved out of white marble! This place was enormous! And so spacious, and clean, and open, the list of how amazing this place is was endless! By the time you and Terry had unpacked and got settled, it was about time for dinner, and he had mentioned a beautiful little restaurant a short walk down the beach from outside the Villa. How could anyone refuse that? As Terry got dressed, so did you, and you had the perfect dress for it, the one from your drawer in the little black bag. Along with these cute heals and the bracelet Terry got you for your anniversary, it was perfect. When he came into the bedroom, he was wearing his gorgeous greyish/white suit, despite us walking along a beach to get to this restaurant.

"Are you ready sweethe-"

The moment you turned around, Terry's mouth was agape and his eyes couldn't move from you if they tried.

"So? What do you think? Do I look nice?"

"Sweetheart....aphrodite herself would be jealous at the sight of you"

"Aww your so sweet, thank you babe. You look so handsome. I'll never get bored of seeing you in your grey suit"

"Oh I know it's your favourite"

"Hmmm? There is just one thing missing"

"What's that?"

You smile, walking to him and running your hands up his chest to his neck, your touch made Terry melt and he could never hide that. He'd put his hair up in a ponytail, but he has had it like that for so long, and he isn't at work now. Snaking your hands behind his neck, you pull at his hair and release all of those beautiful silver curls.

"There"

You say running your fingers through his hair, making it bounce around his head and fit perfectly to his face.

"Now you look perfect"

"You know....I do know you prefer my hair down"

"So was this just an excuse you made for me to play with your hair?"

"That was part of it...this was the other part..."

His hands grip your hips and he pulls you close to his body, locking his lips with yours and savouring your touch, your taste and scent with each second. Your hands held his shoulders, one moving to his cheek and the other sliding around and pressing it to his back, any excuse to feel those toned muscles of his.

"I'm so happy I've got you for 2 whole weeks with noone to disturb us"

"Oh I agree babe, and there have been a few that I can count. Thank you so much for bringing me hear"

"No need to thank me, anything for you. Come on then sweetheart, let's me show you the way to the restaurant"

The walk to the restaurant was wondeful, the sun was still in the sky, the water was lapping at yours and Terry's feet as you held your shoes and walked hand in hand with him down the sand. The air was warm and you could smell the ocean, picture perfect. The restaurant was on the beach, but still looked 5 star, this was Terry after all, if he was the one booking, he'd always get the best. It was beautifully furnished, has wonderful flowers scattered around and a lobster tank in the background, you had only been to these kinds of places with Terry. Before meeting him, the best you'd get was probably a 2, maybe 3 star place at best. A table was already booked and the waiter brought you and Terry over, and again, Terry being a gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and kissed you before sitting down himself.

"Bonsoir madame et monsieur. Puis-je t'offrir quelque chose à boire? (Good evening madam and sir. Can I get you something to drink?)

"Ah oui. Nous aimerions une bouteille de votre meilleur champagne, s'il vous plaît" (Ah yes. We would like a bottle of your finest champagne, if you please)

"Bien sûr monsieur, je vais y veiller tout de suite" (Of course sir, I will see to it right away)

The waiter happily went back to the bar while you looked at Terry with amusement.

"Wow babe, I didn't know you were fluent in French"

"Yeh, I had to learn to speak it and write it when I was making some business deals in Paris"

"You've made deals hear?"

"Of course, hense why I was able to get such a nice place for us to live in while we stay hear"

"Nice place? Terry we're pretty much staying in a castle!"

"Does that make you my princess?"

"Only of your my knight in shining armour"

"Mhm...I think I can be that and more for you"

He said in his deep and sexy gravelly voice, taking your hand and planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. When the waiter returns, he opens the champagne for you both and pours it out one by one. Letting you both cling your glasses and take a sip first, the waiter was patient before asking Terry what he would like to order from the menu.

"Que souhaitez-vous commander monsieur?" (What would you like to order sir?)

"Puis-je avoir le saumon grillé avec un risotto au citron?" (May I have the grilled salmon with lemon risotto?)

"Bien sûr, c'est un excellent choix, monsieur. Et pour vous madame?" (Of course, that's a great choice sir. And for you madam?)

Terry was about to lean over to you and ask what you would like, but little did he know, you had a surprise for him.

"Sweetheart-"

"Je voudrais le poitrine de poulet épicée avec une salade grecque s'il vous plaît. S'habiller sur le côté" (I would like the spicy chicken breast with greek salad please. Dressing on the side)

"Ah! C'est un favori de beaucoup de nos clients. Excellent choix, je reviendrai avec vos repas" (Ah! That is a favourite for our customers, great choice. I shall be back with your meals)

The waiter smiled as he walked away and straight to the kitchen with the order. Terry leaned on the table, looking at you, almost astonished.

"I didn't know you spoke French so well sweetheart? You didn't tell me you were fluent too"

"Well I'm not fluent, but I did take a French course when I was in college many years ago. I could tell by that look in your eye that you thought I didn't know what the waiter was saying"

"Well I won't lie, yes I did think that. But you really suprised me"

"I like to suprise you any time I can. I like keeping you on your toes"

"(Whispers) And I like keeping you on your back... or your knees...or the wall if the occasion calls for it..."

"Oooh Mr Silver....you do know how to talk to a lady..."

"My lady....your going to be aalll mine tonight..."

"I'd better be....I know we're flirting hear Terry, and I love it! But I've got to be honest, while I'm looking forward to this time with you hear in Paris, I'm not looking forward to going home"

"Oh sweetheart, why? What's making you feel so upset about going back?"

"Because there's a chance this could happen all over again"

"What? Me wisking you away for a holiday?"

"No...us not being able to spend quality time together like this unless there is a holiday. I miss you so much Terry. I miss having dinner with you when you get home from work, I miss us falling asleep together in eachothers arms instead of one of us being fast alseep while the other comes home late from work. I miss talking to you, hearing your voice, your touch, the way you would hold me in a warm hug when you'd come home and kiss my forhead. Those little things really matter to me, and.... I feel like I'm loosing that"

"Oh sweetheart I'm so sorry you've been feeling like this. (reaches over and holds your hand) Why haven't you told me how you've been feeling? You know I'd listen to any worries you have"

"With work, it's been so busy for both of us that there just isn't any time to discuss this with you. And I would have no idea how to even begin to tell you"

"Well you have tonight, I'm so sorry you've had to go through this on your own sweetheart. I love you. I love you so much, and I've been missing you too, it's been driving me crazy not being able to spend any time with you while the dojo's been a nightmare"

"I'm sorry babe, I feel like I've put a downer on the whole evening"

"No no you haven't, trust me. Infact, there maybe a solution to our problems"

"And what would that be?"

"It starts with a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me ok?"

"Ok"

"Do you enjoy working in the salon?"

"Well it pays the bills when-"

"No no, I didn't ask if it pays some of the bills. Do you really enjoy working there? Tell me the truth"

"I....ok I won't lie, I don't. I took the job to show you that I can work, and I'm not someone who will mooch of anyone, especially you"

"I know that, I know your not with me for my money sweetheart. And thank you for being honest with me"

"So what solution did you have in mind for our issues?"

"Come and work at Cobra Kai with me"

"Wait-what?"

"I've been wanting to ask you for a few months now, I want you to work at Cobra Kai with me"

"But Terry, that's yours and John's company, I wouldn't want to be a spanner in the works with something you and John created"

"You wouldn't be that Y/N, I want you to be a sensei. Just like you were back in the day. Think about it, we'd be seeing more of eachother, you'd be back in a career you enjoy, you'd still have a paying job, and you would actually be enjoying your time at work. John does his own thing in the dojo, but I want you there. What are your thoughts?"

"I can't deny there's a lot more pros than cons with this idea Terry, and while I am very tempted to say yes straight away, what does John say about this? And who would take over the salon?"

"I've already asked John, and he's more than happy to have you work with us. In fact, he said having a feminine touch around the place would make the dojo better. Plus he remembers how you used to teach, and there are some students who would thrive so much better under your care. And as for the salon, why don't you interview some people for the job role? Maybe even your deputy manager? She sounded so excited to be put in charge while you were coming hear"

"That is a good point, and she does get on really well with the rest of the staff there. And your sure John doesn't mind me being there?"

"He would love to have you there. Plus, it will stop us getting into as many arguments as we do. Whenever we have a spat when your around, it's like you have this power to make everything calm again"

"Do you think that's something to do with the fact that you and John squabble like a couple of children who both want the same toy?"

"You can read me and John like a book. (Chuckles) So? What do you say?"

"Can I think about first? I wanna make sure I'm certain about this, it is a big change after all"

"Of course sweetheart, take all the time you need. I love you"

"I love you too"

A few short minutes later, the waiter arrives with yours and Terry's food, steaming and smelling incredible. Your dinner was to die for, and both of you shared in eachothers plates, tasting his salmon and him your chicken. It was such a wonderful evening, this was just what you were wanting with Terry. Quality time together to talk, laugh, smile and just be a couple again, it's amazing how important these things are in life. Once you left the restaurant, you both walked back down the beach again, hand in hand as the sunset was on the horizon, right above the water line in the sea, beautiful. Yours and Terry's fingers interlocked when you walked, how was his touch so addictive? When you were outside your Villa, there was this cute little machine that washed all the sand off your feet before entering the house, and of course because Terry was rich, he made sure the water was warm as it washed the sand away. You'd only ever seen this kind of thing on public beaches, and it was freezing cold with a difficult contraption to use in order to actually get the sand off. Terry's one was much better, and you felt comfort when you went back into the house with him, bare feet on cool white marble. He took you to the kitchen where he poured you a drink, he had saved some champagne on ice, and some strawberries to put into the glass too. Handing you a glass, he says

"To a wonderful holiday"

"Cheers"

Taking a sip, the drink was cold and crisp, the bubbles danced on your tounge and the flavour lingered in your mouth long after swallowing it down. After you have another sip, you notice Terry looking at you in an intriguing way, like your the only thing in the world that matters. But there's something else in his eyes too, a little devilish, and hungry.

"Shall we....get an early night Terry?"

"(Chuckles) Well sweetheart...before we do...I want to show you something..."

"Oh really?...lead the way..."

Taking your hand in his, he leads you down the hallway, up the stairs and to a door down the end of the hall. But it was strange...all the doors in the Villa were white, this one was red. He stopped you just outside the door.

"Now sweetheart. I know we haven't been intimate for quite some time now"

"Which begs the question as to why you aren't already in the bedroom now with half your clothes off"

"Patients...trust me it will be worth the wait. I know neither of us are strangers to adding a little spice to the bedroom, including toys...So behind this door I have bought a whole host of naughty things we could use tonight...if that's what you'd like?"

"You had me at spice!"

"Mhm...plus, I know how you like me to...suprise you in the bedroom too...so my thoughts were, you go in and have a look around. There is a black box in there, and if there is anything you want to use on me, or have used on you, just put it in the box....and wait for me in the bedroom while I prepare everything for you..."

"Ok, you have NO idea how turned on I am just by you telling me this, let alone actually doing it yet"

"I know you sweetheart, I know exactly what to do to make you mine...so why don't you go in, see what you like, and then we'll take it from there"

"You don't need to tell me twice"

Terry waits outside as you enter, and holy sh#t! This was a playroom and a half! This makes Christian Grey look like a virgin! Terry knows you so well, he knows the kind of toys that always get the job done, multiple times! Taking a look around the room, heat begins to build inbetween your legs seeing all these things Terry could use on you, or vice a versa. To be honest, you just wanted to get RAILED tonight, with these things around that was definitely gunna happen.You find vibrating toys for you, hand cuffs of the fluffy black kind, a sexy black laced blindfold and-wait...what was that against the wall? Peeking your interest, you walk over and see this black mannequin, with a collar attached to it, but it's no ordinary collar . Seeing 3 different chaines all looped together, you pull at the bottom one...and oh hell yes! This was definitely going in the black box!

(Note for reader: I couldn't find one with a womans hand, so just ignore that it's a mans hand doing this 😁🤦‍♀️)

"There was nothing else in hear that you needed, to be honest just Terry on his own would have been fine, but when this kind of stuff comes out to play....oooooh we were both in for a looong night. Putting everything in the black box, you see a little note beside it, picking it up, it read

{My beautiful enchantress, I am going to take my time with you tonight and savour every part of your body in any way I can. I look forward to using whatever you choose on you, but I do have a question. On the table is a pen, and with that you can write what you would like. The choices are

Your dom, I'm sub

I'm dom, your sub

Safe word RED, or two firm taps to the legs

Safe word Dojo, one firm tap to the legs

I'll read this paper once you leave, and prepare the items in this box for you shortly...depending on which one you'll choose, I'll either see you in the bedroom sat on the bed, or on your knees...I love you beautiful}

Some people in other relationships might not do what you and Terry like to do, choose what's going to happen instead of just jumping into bed together. But surprisingly, you find this really exciting. While you and Terry do have your fair share of just jumping into bed together, this was a whole new level, one that made you weak to the knees. It was the anticipation, the tention, being this seductress or being seduced by him, it was very sexy and you loved your heart racing and the giddy feeling that came with this too. Terry adored you, worshiped the ground you walk on, but on the other hand, you loved being his dirty little sl#t. Knowing exactly what you want, you tick the 2nd and 3rd pullet point and headed out to the door. You knew the RED safe word mean't he would be a little rougher, so of course you had to pick that! It had been at least 3 weeks after all! When you close the door behind you, Terry was leaning against the wall, and he could see you blushing with a grin across your face.

"I'll see you in the bedroom sweetheart...and don't forget that sexy little blue and black lingerie set you packed"

"No need to forget...I'm already wearing it..."

Blowing him a kiss as you head to the bedroom upstairs, Terry can't help but watch you leave, checking you out and running his hand over his chin, trying not loose control and take you right there on the staircase. He slips into the red door just as you enter the bedroom, and a tidal wave of excitement washes over you, eagerly imagining the expression on his face when he sees what's in the box, and that you want HIM incharge, it was exhilarating. As quick as a flash you undress so now your just down to your lingerie, putting a pillow on the floor to kneel on and pressing your back a little against the bottom of the bed, ready and waiting for him. You could hear slow footsteps coming up the stairs, he didn't normally walk that slow, so you know he was just trying to tease you. Closer, and closer he came, the door handle slowly turned, and in he walked, holding now a small black bag of what you chose. He had changed his outfit too. Instead of the sweet fiancee with his long hair down and flowing freely, in his grey/white suit and a warm smile. He wore black. Black trousers, black belt, shirt and jumper, black was what he wore when he wanted to be incharge of you. His hair was tied back into his ponytail, a devilish smirk plastered on his face as he stalks a little closer.

"(Chuckles) Ahh...look at you...all ready for me to use you...isn't that right? I can use you anyway I like baby girl?"

You can't help but nod, the excitement was too much. Terry knelt down to you, taking your chin in his hand, making you look at him.

"You'll have to use your words...can I use you anyway I want?..."

"Yes"

Sliding his hand to your throat, he squeezes ever so slightly.

"I can't hear you...a little louder for me..."

"Yes Terry"

"(Chuckles) good girl...'

His hand moves from your throat, gently cupping your cheek for a moment, his eyes are gentle and warm.

"You remember the safe word?"

"Yes, it's red"

"Good, and the ones you ticked on the paper, that's still what you want?"

"Absolutely"

"Alright then sweetheart"

Leaning in and giving you a kiss, you loved that he was always so loving to you and made sure you were always comfortable with what he will do. He stood back up, and there was that dark devilish look again, this was dom Terry now. He reached into the black bag, and pulled out the special collar you chose, and heat began to build up straight away.

"Does my little sl#t want me to put this around her delicate little neck? Hmm?"

"...Yes Terry..."

"What do you say?"

"Please Terry"

"Good girl...."

Kneeling down, he puts the neclace around your neck, and the second it's on, he pulls at the bottom chain, just like you did in the room and he has pulled you in to his face, his lips inches away from yours. You were already so wet, and you couldn't contain the excitement on your face, Terry loved every moment of this.

"I think good girls deserve a kiss...have you been a good girl?"

"...."

He pulls the chain harder, ever so slightly squeezing, but it wasn't enough to cut off your complete air supply, only just the slightest.

"I said...have you been a good girl? Because if you haven't, you don't get my tounge in that beautiful mouth...you get this..."

Terry said in a deep seductive voice, unzipping his trousers and pulling at his belt buckle.

"I-I've been a bad girl..."

"Oh have you? Tst tst tst....looks like I'm going to have to show you what bad girls get..."

The moment he stood up, the chained collar ever so slightly untightened and you watched as he pulled off his jumper and shirt. But the moment he reached into his trousers with his free hand and pulled out his rock hard, and pulsating c#ck, he pulls on the chain again. Bringing you up a little higher and making you face his goin, exposed c#ck directly infront of you. Letting his trousers fall a little, he slips the chain under himself so he's holding it from behind, his hand now behind his backside and the chain inbetween his legs and under his c#ck. He looked deep into your eyes, his free hand now running through your hair.

"This is what bad girls get..."

And without warning, he makes a fist into your hair, causing you to gasp. And the second you gasped, he pulled the chain and shoved his c#ck straight into your mouth, pulling the chain, and Your hair back and forth, making you take him in and out, not having any control over what he does.

"Oh that's it...suck my c#ck like the dirty little sl#t you are"

Each time he pulls your hair back, then pulls the chain so he's back inside your mouth, felt like inbetween your legs was on fire, yet so wet. Over and over again you sucked him, hard, circling your tounge around the tip when he pulled your hair. But his pace was quickening, and he was going ever so more into your mouth, and down your throat.

"I love the noises your making when you suck my c#ck babygirl...oh f#ck...I'm going to use you any way I like, aren't I? Say it...say yes with me in your mouth..."

With just the tip in your mouth when he stops for a moment, you try your best to say yes with it in your mouth, but the second you start to make a sound, he pulls the chain hard, and slides his full length down your throat, cutting off any air you have, being completely full of him. His grunts or sexual pleasure when he does this just adds to the excitement, you can't breath, he's choking you with his c#ck, and yet your so f#cking wet and want more. Once he pulls out, you gasp for air as he smiles down on you.

"Aww you poor thing, you couldn't say anything could you?"

Again, he only gives you that moment before he pulls the chain again and forces himself back into your mouth and down your throat, this time going deep, in and out, not being able to breath as he pumps into you, chocking you with his enormous c#ck

"Oh f#ck that's it! You take me like such a good little slut. Oh yeh that's it...take it all"

You rememberd when you ticked the paper in the play room, saying safe word red and two firm taps to the legs. The word was for when you could speak, and the leg tapping was for when you couldn't, and couldn't breath either. If you did tap his legs twice, he'd stop immediately, but you didn't. Yes you couldn't breath right now, but the lack of oxygen strangely made it more s#xual intense, but you did know your limit, and so did Terry. He pulled out, you kneel there gasping for air once again with tears running down your cheeks.

"You look so pretty when your filled with me...take a deep breath for me baby girl, just one final time..."

His hand in your hair manoeuvres your head so your mouth is directly infront of his cock, and once you take a deep breath, he's straight in again, sliding completely down and making you take every single inch of him. He moved back and forth against your face, faster, harder, hearing the sounds of you choking on him, is was like music to his ears.

"Oh f#ck! You feel so good! Tell me you like me doing this baby....are you gunna tell me? No? That's right you can't, because your so full of me...oh take...every...f#cking...inch!"

Just when your feeling light headed and are thinking of doing the tapping put, Terry pulls himself out and allows you to breath. You gasped and coughed, taking in the sweet oxygen you were desperate for. Terry instantly knelt down to you again, still holding the chain but locking his lips with yours and kissing you hard, sliding his tounge into your mouth like he was trying to pull yours out. It was a hungry kiss, he devoured your lips and tounge like never before.

"Now that....was perfect. You were such a good girl taking me like that....and good girls deserve a reward..."

This time, he let's go of the chain and helps you up by taking your hand, only to push you onto the bed where you land on your back. Climbing on top of you, he leans down and kisses you, slowly, slipping in his tounge again. His hands grab your wrists and pin them above your head against the pillow, where he then pulls out the black fluffy handcuffs from behind him.

"This is what you get for taking me so well..."

Taking them, he cuffs one of your wrists, loops the chain around the bed frame and cuffs your other hand too. Now you had no way of escaping, your hands were chained to the bed, and Terry was going to have his way with you. He leans down and kisses your neck, running his tounge down your soft skin, making you gasp. Your eyes close instinctively and you want to much to grab his shoulders and pull him closer, but you instead struggle against the cuffs, this was both pleasure and torture. He stops, leans up so he's on his knees, looking down on you.

"Let's make this interesting...."

He says in that sexy voice again, this time revealing the black laced blindfold and playing with it infront of you. He leans down once again, kissing you while slipping on the blindfold, you can't see anything, it's completely black, but you loved it. Your sight was gone, but that just meant your other senses went into overdrive. You can't see him, but you feel Terry lean back on his knees again, reaching for something behind him, but not knowing what it is. It's only when he pulls down your bra and a sudden wet chill shocks you, making you gasp and shiver. He's running an ice cube over your skin and circling your tender n#pples. When he pulls it away, it's replaced by his warm mouth and eager tounge, sucking and circling your most tender area and making you arch your back.

"Oh!"

You gasp, it seems to be the only thing that your able to say, the only noise you can make. But that doesn't stop Terry. He does the same thing with the other breast, taking his time with every inch of you that cries out for his touch. Moving slowly down your body, he smooths the ice cube down your chest, your stomach, belly button then down inbetween your legs. He's already knelt on the edge of the bed with your leg over his shoulder, kissing up and down the inside of your thigh as he uses the ice on your tender cl#t.

"Oh god....Terry...I need you..."

"I want to hear you beg....beg for me..."

"Please! Please touch me! I'm going to go crazy!"

Hearing him chuckle, he s throws the ice cube away and dives straight between your legs, licking and sucking your soul out.

"Oh! Jesus f#cking-oh f#ck!"

He was full on devouring you like a wild animal, pinning your waist down with his hand as you writhe in his grasp. It's burning your core, the deep s#xual experience is so god damn good, and all you want to do is grab hold of his hair as he eats you, but your cuffed up and can't do a thing except lie there, and take what he gives you. He doesn't even need to use his fingers as he flicks his tounge at just the right speed, making you scream in extacy and shake against the bed, feeling wave after wave or pure orgasmic bliss. You felt lifeless, worn out from just his mouth, but your body still hungered for more. Allowing you a minute to catch your breath, Terry leans back on you and catches your lips once again.

"Now it's time for the big one...those were just a few orgasms babygirl....now we're going for the big ones..."

The big ones! When Terry has said that to you in the bedroom before, it was guaranteed you weren't walking afterwards....and that's exactly what you wanted! He uncuffed you, pulled you up onto your knees and got behind you. He moved your hands infront of you again, putting the cuffs back on and keeping on the blindfold. You feel his face close to your neck as he whispers to you.

"Just kneel up little higher baby, I wanna slip something inbetween your legs..."

Still shaking from the other orgasms, you simply nod and move up a little more, which is when Terry slips something inbetween your legs once you sit back down.

"You know what this is babygirl...the little device you slipped into the black box...now why don't I just turn this around (he turns your collar around so he can pull it from the back) and you can lean a little more onto that device. Go ahead...get comfortable"

The device he was talking about was a kind of vibration silicone plate, but it's moulded so if you sat on it you would be comfy and feel an intense vibration. And Terry had the remote to control the speed, which wasn't on just yet. Despite you leaning on this, there was still plenty on room for Terry to get in on the action, and he did NOT take long to do just that. Pulling at your collar, his free hand gripped your hip but still kept your clit pressed against this silicon plate, that's where the tip of his cock found your entrance and slid right inside you. He grunted when he felt you clench around him, he was so big that despite the amount of times you've had sex before, he still stretched you, and you could feel how hard he was. It began...one hard thrust, then another, and another, each time he went in and out you wimper, feeling every inch pound into you. You already felt like another orgasm was building, and the wimpers turned into moans.

"That's it....take it all babygirl....now, why don't I just-"

He pushed the first button on the vibration remote, making you gasp.

"Uh! Oh god f#ck! F#ck!"

It sent shockwaves through you, pulsating through your body as Terry drilled you from behind. He wouldn't stop, he was f#cking you fast and hard, every few moments turning up the level on the vibration, you could barely catch your breath as you shout with the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through you. He was going so hard and rough you probably wouldn't even remember your own name when this is done, even your eyes rolled to the back of your head with Terry doing all of this to you while still pulling you by your chain and f#cking you mercilessly from behind. The vibration was now switched to it's highest level, and you couldn't take it anymore. You screamed at the top of your lungs, your cuffed hands desperately clawing at the mattress as Terry still drills you, not stopping despite your screams of pleasure filling the Villa.

"That's it! Let me hear you!....Just like that...just a little longer baby, you can take it...I'm nearly-nea-Oh f#ck!"

Terry started to grunt, moan and shake against you once he finaly reached his own high, while you were still coming down from what felt like your 30th! He stopped the vibration toy, and you shake uncontrollably and desperately try to breath properly again, but your body has just gone though overdrive. All you could do was shake, whimper and catch your breath. Terry slid out of you and removed your collar and blindfold, finaly seeing the light again, despite you only being able to see stars. His warm hands hold you, comforting you through the shaking, your still extremely sensitive down there and any move you made felt like another mini orgasm. Terry's hands held you, he kissed your cheek, your head, and was so gentle with you.

"You did so great sweetheart....you were such a good girl"

"Th....thank you...Terry..."

"Aww you poor thing, your exhausted"

"I now...understand the term...f#cking your brains out"

You say breathlessly while Terry just chuckles, kissing your cheek again.

"Let's move these toys out of the way and lie you down. I'll get you cleaned up"

You've got to give it to Terry, his aftercare was always spot on, and made you feel so much better. He cleaned you up, got you comfortable then slipped into the bathroom, where he started to run a bubble bath for the 2 of you. You took that time to relax, get your breath back properly and have a drink that Terry gave you. A short while later, Terry came back to the bedroom and carried you into the bathroom, you would have walked...if you could...He was careful to place you in the bath, the hot bubbly water was perfect. It smelt of coconut and honey, the whole atmosphere was just the right thing after that session, and sweet Terry actually went back to the room to change the bedding before he joined you in the bath too.

"We could have done that after the bath babe"

"I know sweetheart, but I want you to feel comfortable and able to snuggle up into the bed when you want to"

"How was I lucky enough to get someone as lovely as you in my life?"

"Maybe you did what I did"

"Which was?"

"Made a wish..."

"Ok, that is just to sweet!"

During your bath, Terry had given you a back rub with some beautifully smelling oils and lotions, you practically melted against him, he just happily held you against his chest, feeling the warmth of your body and the bath water. Due to the heat, the sensitivity you had was now going away, and you were able to not just walk, but walk and not feel wobbly. A short while later when you and Terry were clean and dry, you snuggled up into bed and felt how soft and fluffy the new bedding was, it was like being hugged by a quilt.

"Oh babe, this bedding is soooo nice!"

"I thought you'd like it (climbing into bed next to you, wearing only boxers) I made sure it was the same type of bedding we have back at home, I know how much you love that"

"You didn't have to do tha-wait a second? How did you get the same kind of bedding we use in LA in France? I've seen French bedding, their pillows are square! Not rectangles! How can anyone sleep like that?"

"I'll have you know, I brought a set with me in my luggage. I had a feeling these sheets would be changed a couple of times, and comfort is a must for my beautiful fiancee"

"You did? Terry your the sweetest (kiss) and you got my favourite colour too"

"Green. I never forget"

You snuggle down into the quilt and lie on Terry's chest as he holds you in his big strong arms. Stroking your hair and rubbing your back, his heartbeat is just perfect to feel and listen to in the arms of the man of your dreams.

"Did you enjoy tonight Terry?"

"Of course I did. I love you and I love the way we play in that kind of way. And you know I'm just as happy being the sub"

"Oh yes I remember! I never knew you were into being spanked like that"

"Well before we started sleeping together, I never knew you liked being called a sl#t"

"Hm, touche (giggle)

"But yes, I loved every moment tonight. Our play time, the meal we had together, walking down the beach to the sunset"

"I couldn't have asked for a better evening"

"I agree. I have an idea, in the morning, why don't we take a trip to the Ifle Tower?"

"Really?!"

"Absolutely. I know you've been wanting to see it for years. And, we could get that romantic picture of us having a kiss infront of it too if you'd like?"

"I would love nothing more babe, thank you"

"Your welcome (kiss) You must be tired sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?"

"I just might....and maybe in the morning we could...take a shower together....get all warm and soapy..."

"You'd be ready for another round in the morning you think?"

"Oh yeh babe...and we aren't in a rush to see the Ifle Tower, so we could take as looooong as we like..."

"Now that...sounds like a great idea...me belle future épouse" (My beautiful wife to be)

"Moi aussi mon amour" (So do I my love)

#sensei targaryen #terry silver #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #smut

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midnight-fables · 4 months ago

Text

Entry 15: You Good, Chef?

GIF credit: @carmen-berzattos

Bearblr Promptober Day 15: Free Space aka Carmy Has Girlfriend Brainworms

Summary: Carmy can't stop thinking about his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) being cute in the morning when he left for work, and it's causing so many problems.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned panic attack (no active panic attack in this one), mention of The Devil (aka Chef David), sleepy bean fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, snuggling Carmy's shirt for comfort, she/her pronouns, fluff, feat. Nat, Syd, Richie.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

This is a two-parter. The second part is here.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

Also, if random letters or words are white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

15 Oct 2024

I just had the hardest fucking day at the restaurant and it’s not even because we were doing badly; it’s because I couldn’t stop fucking thinking of Darling.

She was still sleeping when I left. Curled up into a cute little ball under the comforter, just her hair poking out. I grabbed the blanket in the living room and draped it over her as well to stave off the chill that’d creep in since I wouldn’t be around to be her personal heater, and it, unfortunately, woke her up just enough to start feeling around the bed for me.

“Hi, baby girl,” I whispered. She blinked and squinted at me through the darkness. “I’m heading to work. You can go back to sleep.”

She made a discontented noise and mumbled something.

I leaned in. “Hm?”

“Shirt?”

Something in my chest fluttered. “You want my shirt?”

She nodded, groaned sleepily as she reached for my pillow and dragged it under the blanket. I grabbed my t-shirt off the edge of the hamper and gave it to her. She clumsily draped it over the pillow, wrapped her arms around it, and buried her face in it, letting out a soft, satisfied sigh once she’d settled.

The sight of her nuzzled into my shirt, only dozing off when she could be enveloped by my scent? I didn’t think I was the kind of person who could be fucking feral over something, but I am fucking. Feral. Over it. I don’t know what’s come over me. It’s driving me insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about it. It’s somehow like an earworm I can’t shake or like an image frozen in time that I can’t stop seeing when I blink, but it’s worse because I can’t fucking listen to a song or look at a stupid photo in a cookbook to get it out of my head! It won’t leave me alone! I was in the middle of vegetable prep—this was super early, Syd had just come in and was putting her apron on—and I swear to God, I froze in place because the thought of Darling nuzzling into my t-shirt took over every fucking particle of my brain. I got that deep, sinking heat of arousal in the pit of my stomach while at work, this is insane, what is going on with me?

“You good, Chef?” Syd asks.

I can’t even remember what I said to her, but it must’ve been good or bad enough that she got straight to her prep. I didn’t even make it through dicing another onion before I had to step out in the back alley to get some cold air on my face. I was shaking. I was fucking shaking. Part of me wanted to call Darling. It was like this itch deep in my brain, somewhere I couldn’t reach, and I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to hear her call me sweetheart again. I wanted her hands in my hair, on my skin, wanted to taste her mouth, hear her whisper “I love you” in my ear as she unraveled. I wanted her to pull my hair, why did I want her to pull my hair? But she slept in on her days off, and I couldn’t even try to rouse her from the sleep she so desperately needed to keep functioning. It felt selfish. A spark of pain on the back of my neck brought my attention back to the present, and I realized, with mild horror, that I’d dragged my nails across my skin much like she did to my back or chest when she had a particularly good orgasm.

Shit. Fuck. That’s going to be bright red in a few seconds.

I heaved a breath and headed back inside.

“You sure you’re good, Chef?” Syd asked the moment I came back in.

“What’s wrong? Why is he not good?” Nat?

“The fuck are you doing here?” I asked.

She appeared from the office. “Good morning to you too.” Held up a manilla file. “Quarterly tax shit. I need some signatures. Why are you not good?”

“I’m fine. Give.” I held a hand out for the file.

Sug took entirely too long to hand it to me. “She told me ab—”

“I know, she asked me first. Not talking about it.” I flipped through the papers for all the yellow flags marking where I needed to sign or initial.

“You really should talk—”

“I’m scheduled for a psychological evaluation at University Hospital, and they’ll probably make a referral to trauma therapy.”

“Should I be hearing this?” Syd asked.

Sug. “I don’t know?”

Me. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Sug drew in a breath to say something.

“I’ve already been approved for the financial assistance to reduce the cost of healthcare.” I passed the file back to her. Got back to the onions.

She blinked at me. Did she forget I was her brother?

“That-that was quick.”

I nodded. “She’s almost as quick as you.”

Syd. “She convinced you to go to therapy?”

“I didn’t need much convincing.”

She chuckled. “In what universe…?”

“The one where I had such a bad panic attack that both of us were convinced that I was dying. No, I’m not gonna field questions about it, get back to work.”

Syd’s smile slid off her face. “I wasn’t going to ask!”

“I mean Sug.”

Sugar scoffed. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You were about to.”

Sug crossed her arms. “You’re in asshole mode today, I see.”

“When am I not?”

“When you’re with your girlfriend,” Syd spat. She didn’t need to say it with an attitude. Or maybe she did, honestly; Syd’s right more often than she’s wrong. And she still had the right to be bitter about shit I refused to apologize for. This is easy to say now, at the eleventh hour while I write this down, but it was impossible to say when standing in that kitchen on that day, 2 hours into having Darling brainworms eating holes in my gray matter. Maybe it was because I felt so off, but I fired back with something I definitely shouldn’t’ve said.

Or maybe I should’ve. It got me to say the thing I should’ve said to her months ago.

Oh, look, God being a sadist again. Who would’ve thought?

“The girlfriend you got annoyed with and made feel unwelcomed, remember?”

Sydney’s face contorted into a grimace. “Excuse me, you were shirking your responsibilities here and leaving me to do it all myself after telling me you had my back.”

Sugar had a much more reasonable, “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“Sydney, I couldn’t fucking breathe,” I groaned.

Her face went sober again. It always scares me when that happens.

Words I needed to explain away that blank face refused to leave my throat.

I thought, at that time, that what I needed to do was get deeper into the work, just like I did in New York. Just like I did when Mikey pushed me out of The Beef. That the agony closing in from all directions could be staved off by putting my head down and doing the thing I wanted to do at all—opening my own restaurant—and submerging myself in the production of critical acclaim after critical acclaim because as the awards and accolades stacked up, I could use them as ammunition against The Devil’s voice in my head. Against my own voice. Against the voices of a thousand nameless, faceless people who, in one way or another—often in dozens of ways—crushed any sense of my self-worth under their boot-heels because their best defense against their own cruel internal critics happened to be a really good offense. I fashioned myself into a mosaic of shattered glass to go back to Mikey, to throw reams of approval at him (and at ma and at Sugar—because they were also caught in the backdraft, such is the curse of being a fucking Berzatto), but there was one last boot heel for me to be crushed under, and it happened to be at the end of a gun barrel on State Street Bridge.

Because God’s a sadist, remember?

“I need you to explain that, Carmy,” Syd said.

But you can submerge yourself too deep. And you can start to drown. And when you start to drown, you cling to whatever you can see. Fuck a plan, I didn’t even know what to do to stop being waterboarded by the hell of my own making, and I didn’t know there was a way out of the water, so yes, Syd, yes, I fucking bailed on you and I fucking left you to do it all yourself and I fucked up at every opportunity and I forgot to fucking call the fridge guy but Syd, you have to understand.

Then Sugar, in her small voice. “Yes, please explain, Bear.”

I couldn’t. Fucking. Breathe.

“I don’t have the words to,” I mumbled.

Nat put her hands on my shoulders, leaned down into my view. Half-whispered, “Are you okay?”

I told her to ask me tomorrow.

Mercifully, neither of them pestered me about it and let me get back to prep without disturbing me.

…..

Early in the afternoon, Richie came in and noticed the scratches. What with him being a lanky fuck and all.

“Good morning, everyone—Yo, did your girl get you last night?” He chuckled. Tugged at the back of my apron.

“Nope, my anxiety did this morning, thank you for that.”

He didn’t say another word either.

As we got closer to service, it got worse. Her smile, the scent of her shampoo, her fingernails, painted in oxblood, dragging down my forearm, the soft, wet heat between her thighs, her giggle, her hand ghosting up my abdomen to then press ice to my chest—it kept invading every sense. I could hear, feel, smell, touch, and taste her, I could fucking taste her, and I kept fucking up my counts, I lost track of time twice and Syd had to call out time to service. I grabbed a quart of ice and stepped out again, trying to recompress. Grabbed a fistful of ice cubes and squeezed them.

“Chef, you’re not okay.” Syd again. She followed me.

I drew in a sharp breath to retort that I was fine, but the words got caught in my throat. I could hear Darling talking to me. Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe, baby... That’s it. There you go… Let’s try to recover. I huffed. Shrugged.

“No. No, Syd, I’m not.”

“Do you need to step out?”

No, I don’t, fuck you. “I-I should probably step out, shouldn’t I?”

“That is the agreement we made, yeah. I’m not doing a dinner service with you wired to the gills.”

I nodded. My hand was going numb from the ice.

I told you, God’s a fucking sadist.

(To Be Continued)

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear

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rangerangel · 2 months ago

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Given that it's been almost 6 months since I was last on tumblr or in the RA community, I thought it was time to talk about some of the stuff that was going on with Ranger Angel these days.

I haven't painted or drawn a single thing since August of 2024. I haven't regularly drawn for Ranger's Apprentice since November of 2023. In some ways, it feels unbelievable that time has passed that quickly--during my early 20s I woke up and pretty much lived and breathed in this fandom. But as time has gone on, I've felt incredibly creatively stunted. If I learned how to draw by drawing the same 7 characters, how do I draw anything else? Where do I pull creativity from if it's not RA? What do I do when the books no longer spark the same joy?

I've really missed this community too. You guys were the people who encouraged me to learn to draw, and the ones who celebrated every piece I put out--even when they sucked! I met my husband here and I've even travelled internationally to meet several of you. And yet when I sit down to express myself on a canvas, I don't have anything left to give to Ranger's Apprentice or the people that love the series. I've got no more artistic energy, and no more thoughts to share on the series for now.

At the end of the day, I don't want this to be a goodbye. For a lot of you in this fandom who did not ever know me, I'm sure this is a little melodramatic. This is mostly just a thank you to the people who were here while I learned and grew, and a "hope I see you again" to everyone who loves the series the way I once did. <3 I'll be around, and maybe one day I'll come back to this fandom with the energy I think it deserves.

#ra #ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice #ranger’s apprentice

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thecrazyalchemist · 7 months ago

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I've recently seen a post on Tumblr that just, 'broke' something in me (for a lack of a better term).

So I just want to vent about it and another thing that's been bothering me.

(Disclaimer: this is a vent post. I am not an expert in the topics discussed. What I say is knowledge that I have learned from all kinds of places (school, history classes, researching for history projects, reading first hand written material from archives, and other places) and I don't have much the energy to compile everything source into a list (if I can even remember them). However, if you want to add, argue against, or argue in favor of something said here, correct me, you're welcome! Although, please act civil and cite your sources please. (I know I didn't and I'm sorry, but also please remember this is a vent post.) so anyways, here we start)

So, first of all:

Let's talk about Zionism. What does it mean?

To me, it seems that a lot of people think Zionism is something along the lines of 'racist bloodthirsty monstrous baby murderer and cold blooded killer and a rapist pedophile' since I keep seeing the word 'Zionist' in DNI lists next to 'nazis', 'pedophiles', 'minor attracted people', and other stuff like that.

I would love to hear what you think its definition is and I would love to hear where did you learn it, or perhaps any sources for such a definition.

Here's a brief recap of how Zionism was formed and what it is:

Zionism means the desire for Jewish self determination and self governing to exist/continue in the land/country of Israel.

It is an umbrella term, like the term queer, for example.

Zionism has deep roots in Judaism. A lot of practices and rituals in Judaism involve or are related to Israel. The name Israel comes from the name Jacob got from the angel he defeated, and after him the whole tribe of the Jewish people and the area are called Israel. The name Israel is in one of the most basic Jewish prayers - Shema Israel. Also, at the end of every pesach (Passover) Seder we say "Leshana habaa beyerushalaim habnuia" - next year in built Jerusalem. Jewish people have said so ever since the diaspora started.

Before the state of Israel existed, Zionism was about how to create and build Israel.

Three examples:

Political Zionism - create Israel by first getting a charter and international recognition and funding.

Practical Zionism - create Israel by first buying land, building settlements and developing the area.

Synthetic Zionism - a merge between the two movements above. Afaik most of the early political leaders of Israel were from that movement (for example, the first Israeli prime minister - David Ben Gurion).

Nowadays, Zionism is more vague. The reason for is that Israel already exits. The different movements on how to create Israel are kind of irrelevant now, because it exists now. The discussion on how to run Israel is perhaps what one may define as different movements within Zionism in modern time, however yet almost always when one says they are a Zionist, they mean they desire/want/believe that Israel should exist. That's it.

As such, Zionism alone doesn't say almost anything about the political view of the person who identifies as a Zionist.

Afaik basically 100% of Israeli Jews and around 80% of the Jews in America identify as Zionist. Under *this* definition.

Now because Israel exists, it's much harder to talk about different movements within Zionism which aren't basically political movements within Israel.

That leads me onto Kahanism.

Kahanism is an extremist far-right nationalist-racist religious Zionist movement (that I completely do not, I repeat: **do not** agree with). It was founded by the rabbi Meir Kahane, which believed that Jews should rule the whole area which was the kingdom of Israel in the days of the Tanach and should kill anyone who's an enemy of the Jewish people (which according to him, is basically everyone).

Here's an article that sums up some of my feelings about it in relation to the current events:

[https://archive.ph/2024.06.10-191347/https://www.haaretz.com/opinion/2024-06-10/ty-article-opinion/.premium/forget-being-anti-zionists-lets-be-anti-kahanists/00000190-0228-d660-af95-6fbed3e60000]

Now on to the post that 'broke the camel's back', per say.

The post said “I think that all Israelis should go back to Europe” and that it would solve all the problems here.

Let's try to break down the sentence “all Israelis should go back to Europe”. That sentence implies that that's where *all* Israelis came from.

What's "Israeli"? Afaik, since Israel is a country, Israeli is anyone who has Israeli citizenship (and some may even add 'and/or everyone who was born here').

What's Israel's population demographic? According to official government surveys, Israel has around ~9.9 million citizens, out of which ~73% (~7.227 million) are Jewish, ~21% (2.079 million) are Arab and the rest ~6% (0.594 million or 594 thousand) are classified as else.

The Arab population of Israel (which has equal rights as the Jewish population in Israel) and the Arab population of Gaza and the West Bank originate from the same group of people. Some of them originate from Arab people who had been here for hundreds of years (since the empires age) and many originate from Arab immigration between the end of the WW1 and the establishment of Israel.

Even if you claim that the Arab population of Gaza and the West Bank are the actual indigenous population of this area (despite numerous archeological and historical evidence pointing otherwise, although they do have a long history here), you cannot claim that just because a person was born or even just lived on the other (wrong, in your eyes) side of a border they aren't indigenous to the area!

In Israel, there are also a lot of minorities who are persecuted in other parts of the middle east. Such as: Druze, Armenians, Circassians and more. They have to go to Europe too? No, just the Jews? Surely this isn't antisemitism!

And let's talk about the Jewish population in Israel. MOST JEWS DID NOT COME FROM EUROPE! There are Jews who came from diaspora in Iran, Iraq, Yemen, Saudia, Ethiopia and a whole lot other countries through the middle east, south west Asia and north Africa. They have to go to Europe too?

And that's beside two other important facts: first of all, the Jews are indigenous to the levant. We are indigenous to the land of Israel.

And of course, do you now what happened to Jews all over the world, and especially Europe?

To name a few very notable examples: *The Spanish inquisition*, Kishinev pogrom, Jedwabne pogrom, *The Holocaust*, what that happened in the Soviet Union and many more pogroms, expulsions and massacares. (There were of course also pogroms in the MENA countries, however *I* haven't learned about them. Two examples I am told is notable is the farhood pogrom and the Holocaust in North Africa).

All throughout history, the Jews were expelled and massacred from almost every place. You then expectus to just come back to those places as if nothing has happened?

You want us to come so badly. Can you prove that we are safe to come? That we *have a place to come to*? Because so far you haven't shown that.

That when you and the people around you see a Jew, you won't immediately turn them into the scapegoat of every problom you have and then rape and/or expell and/or kill them.

And also, how would that solve more problems than it will create? Exchanging around ~2 million refugees for ~9.9 million refugees? How would that help? And even if you only mean the Jews (which I can't see how it isn't antisemitic) it's ok cause it's Jews? (which is even more antisemitic)

So no, it would not solve any problems. The country of Israel won't go anywhere, the Jews won't go anywhere, because we don't have anywhere to go - we were born here and we are staying.

However, yes, just as well, the Palestinians will probably not go anywhere (*not talking about Hamas and other similar groups here*). The only way to solve the situation is to unpack and deescalate those decades of conflict and escalation and hate, which will take a lot of work.

#jumblr #zionism #history #rants #vent #vent post #rant post #original post

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lonewolflupe · 2 months ago

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I've seen several of these around Tumblr, and thought it would be fun to do one myself as well! So here's my art progress in 2024!

Ramblings and more art comparisons/progress below the cut (:

Statistics

I started drawing humans (mostly clones eheh) and posting them here on Tumblr in June

Since then, I finished and posted about 140 (dakriff) drawings (I counted my files for this post and I feel like I miscalculated but it's actually that many??)

Those include just below 50 pieces drawn with my mouse (June-October)..

.. and just over 90 since I got my drawing screen in early November (help)

Famous last words

If they ever put me away behind closed doors, I hope they let me keep my drawing screen ~Lupe, December 31, 2024

Here's a month-to-month look with more art (because with over 140 pieces in 7 months, it was hard to pick just one for each month!). Don't feel obligated to read all this, I just thought it was fun for myself to read this back later (when hopefully, I made even more art progress) (:

I finally found the courage to start posting here on Tumblr, and it didn't take me long to introduce my Jedi OC Lupe (I actually never posted the Youngling Lupe art, so that's a bonus, I guess). Lots of templates and references, because drawing humans is HARD. I made my own clone-portrait-template and used it to create the clones from the Lone Wolf Squad.

First time drawing clone armour, which was actually more fun and satisfying than I had imagined. I tried adding more body below my portraits. Experimenting with art styles to find something that I felt comfortable with.

More clones, including OC art. I tried adding a little bit of depth, but shading felt impossible with my mouse. I also started my Clone Shenanigans series (which I should continue some day).

If you noticed an increase in Fox content, that's because I fell hard for this guy haha. And of course there's more of the clones I loved from the beginning, like Fives and Echo <3 I reached 100 followers and celebrated with an art event. Which was very time-consuming because I was still drawing with my mouse, but it was so much fun and I think it really helped me progress my art skills (and it started some friendships that are now very dear to me ❤️). Also, I finally started doing some effort with shading/lighting.

I wrapped up my 100 follower event and almost immediately dove into my inbox Trick-Or-Treating event, including both art and writings. I put quite some time in those fics, so I feel like I didn't do as much art as the previous and next months (DEFINITELY not as much as the next months, ahahaha).

So this is where the fun begins (nah it started back in June, but this is the moment I went totally feral with drawing clones ahahaha). Early November, I received my drawing screen, which means I started drawing with a pen directly on screen instead of using my mouse (which saves a LOT of time). After some practicing, I started getting better feeling for both full-body and armoured clones with my The Blorbo Wars series (which you really seemed to like haha, thanks for all the lovely attention! I promise I'll continue the series!).

I think I've gone a bit rogue this month, haha. I had so much fun celebrating my Advent Event (I actually did most of the art for that event in November 😅)! I barely wrapped that up when I hit 300 followers, which I'm currently celebrating with my Meme Mania! I'm finally at a place where I'm really enjoying my art style, especially for drawing faces. Of course there's always room for improvement, and I'm totally here for it!

Thank you all so much for sticking with me, for supporting me and encouraging me <3 This has been a bit of an exhausting year (mostly because of good things, for once), and the Tumblr clone community has been such a nice diversion from all the IRL adulting. Thanks for being here and welcoming me like you did <3

For 2025..

I will continue drawing, of course! I can't wait to see where I'll be in another few months! I'd love to practice some more lighting/rendering, I'm definitely going to get better with anatomy! And perhaps I'll finally dive into the abyss that's called proper backgrounds.. I also have plans to do some art for my longfic A Lupe Of Faith, to give Lupe a bit more attention. And I have so many ideas for upcoming events, it's insane haha.

I will continue writing as well, don't worry. It's just that I'm really sick with the drawing-bug at the moment. I'll try to vary a little bit.

Besides the art and the writing, I can't wait to continue all the friendships I've made here, to see whatever new clone content you'll all come up with! (And maybe we'll get some more canon clone content, Lucasfilm/Disney pretty please???)

Thanks to all of you for making this my digital home ❤️

#2024 in art #art overview #lonewolflupe #lonewolflupe draws #lonewolflupe rambles

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rip-quizilla · 1 year ago

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Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?��

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench.

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.”

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities.

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?”

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.”

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along.

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?”

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected.

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands.

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.”

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck.

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness.

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more.

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs.

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face.

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.”

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?”

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans.

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid.

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man.

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip.

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on.

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk.

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting.

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip.

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message.

I’m serious.

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color.

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap.

I’m fine with it if you are.

Putting bats on my forearm.

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing.

I’m more than fine with it.

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you.

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear.

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other.

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them.

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?”

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom.

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission.

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this.

This looked like fear.

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide.

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously.

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce.

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?”

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor.

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand.

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand.

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle.

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.”

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off.

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.”

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you.

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal.

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved.

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low.

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?”

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.”

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway.

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing.

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall.

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar.

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism.

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it.

On Halloween, he could just be.

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer.

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license.

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie.

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set.

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout.

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable.

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you.

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him.

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life.

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy.

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second.

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you.

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?”

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.”

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart.

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?”

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction.

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it.

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking.

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap.

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.”

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles.

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine.

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.”

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?”

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room.

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be.

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing.

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled.

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out.

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.”

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.”

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.”

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis.

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped.

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like.

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now.

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel.

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message.

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins?

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on.

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze.

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie.

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire.

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again.

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine.

“Are you?” You heard him ask.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?”

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz.

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line.

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous.

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…”

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?”

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.”

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke.

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it.

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way.

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all.

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat.

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours.

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day.

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear.

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question.

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.”

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled.

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles.

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too.

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did?

Ah, fuck it.

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.”

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.”

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?”

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before.

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out.

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere.

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped.

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you.

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked.

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him.

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #impossible to hate you #ithy #friends to enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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thebroccolination · 2 years ago

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People Think Krist Is Homophobic (but He Isn’t)

[TW: discussions of homophobia, death threats, "the rape filter joke", etc.]

Last September, I made a thread about The Whole Krist Thing, and I'd like to make a version here on Tumblr as well.

NOTE: My being a queer fan of Krist doesn’t override the feelings or opinions of other queer people. I fully understand that time on this planet is limited and you don't need to exert precious energy into researching an actor. The reason I'm making this is to provide context for people who are new to the fandom or just wondering why Krist is known as homophobic.

- Why I Made the Twitter Thread -

As a queer international fan living abroad, my understanding of Thailand, Thai culture, and Thai language is extremely limited. Like most of us, I rely entirely on translations, both official and fan-made.

After watching SOTUS for the first time in 2020, I saw English-speaking fans claiming that Krist Perawat, the actor who played Arthit, was homophobic. And it wasn't just one or two people saying it. It was dozens. Hundreds. That called for some research. I loved Arthit, and Krist's empathetic portrayal of him didn't mesh with the angry guy in the Instagram photo I was seeing passed around.

I'd made a number of queer Peraya fans on Twitter, so I went to them individually and asked, "What's this about Krist being homophobic?" As queer fans who were knowledgable and openly fond of Krist, I wanted to hear their side of things.

They sent me links and photos and videos and translations that thoroughly explained how Krist's reputation for being homophobic had gotten so out of control. The problem: those things weren't compiled in one place, and they were all on Twitter where the Asian Peraya fandom is most active. Interfans, meanwhile, took the worst of everything they could find and compiled it into contextless videos for Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, etc. Since the vast majority of Krist's fanbase is spread across Asia and many of them don't engage with the international fandom, it's no wonder to me that the homophobia thing has become so ubiquitous over the years.

It's a paradox where, in order to see the evidence of Krist's allyship, you kind of have to be a fan already. Or you have to know which keywords to use to navigate Twitter's nightmare of a search function (I know, Tumblr is worse). While I made that thread, I was regularly texting Peraya I knew things like, "Do you know where that one interview from 2019 is?" or, "Did you take a screenshot of the marriage equality post he made last month?"

The thread was difficult to make, and I'm a fan! What I know of Krist, I know because I've been a fan for three years and I have access to information that fans who have been here much longer can find.

I also procrastinated on making it for ages. I knew the amount of vitriol people hold against him, and I just wanted to enjoy my time in fandom quietly without calling waves of anger and hate to my carefully curated little corner of sunshine.

Then Krist was in a car accident.

And even though he was reportedly driving safely and slowly, Thailand is notorious for its poorly maintained roads and a high number of traffic accidents. Only months after receiving his first driver's license, Krist's car flipped upside down, and he had to reassure fans from the hospital that he was physically all right, just shaken.

Meanwhile, some international fans thought it was funny.

And that's when I started making the thread.

So, with all that said, let's start with Krist's allyship, because I know most of us agree that that's the bare minimum for an actor working in the BL industry and profiting off the queer community.

- Acts of Allyship -

In the early days of their SOTUS fame, Krist and Singto were interviewed about the LGBTQ+ community.

Acceptance and equality is something that the LGBTQ community still struggles to achieve up to this day. But both Singto and Krist believe that this should not be the case. “They are just humans. They are like me, and they are like everyone,” Krist claims. Furthermore, he mentions that we should all be given the freedom to love anyone we want to love. “It’s just natural,” he says.

“They don’t have to understand now,” Singto says, referring to those who can’t grasp same-sex relationships. “One day, when they find their true love, they will realize that love is the same no matter the gender.” Krist adds, “Gender is not relevant when it comes to love. But in case some people still don’t understand this in time, what’s important is that we all give due respect to each other at the end of the day.”

He's also educated himself in colors representative of the LGBTQ+ community.

When Krist and Singto attended an award ceremony for their photoshoot in the gay magazine Attitude, Krist shared a sentiment that he gave to a queer friend of his. "If no one accepts you, you can stay with me, because I accept you for who you are." [Paraphrased]

Despite Thailand's current government leaning on BL series as a new soft power, it's still very conservative, and its people are to this day fighting to see equal marriage recognized.

Krist often adds his voice to this fight on Instagram, specifically as someone who works in the BL industry. These were in 2021 and 2022:

And, like many young people in Thailand, Krist also seems to support the Move Forward party. Earlier this week, he used an orange heart in a tweet to encourage people to go out and vote in the most recent election. One of the many things the Move Forward party is pushing for is the legalization of same-sex marriage "with the same rights and responsibilities as their heterosexual peers", which the current military government actively does not.

- His Circle -

When I was making my Twitter thread, I hesitated before including mention of his queer friends and coworkers. I knew how that would sound, but in the same way I felt it was important to mention my own queerness, I also think it's important to highlight not just the presence of queer people in his life, but how comfortable they are with him.

As I said in my Twitter thread, having queer friends isn’t indicative of anything substantial, but I do think it’s important to look at how those queer friends interact with him. If you’re queer, you know firsthand which friends you’d be physically affectionate with. The entertainment industry is its own world, of course, and the weight and meaning of relationships and connections can be different, but for all Krist's fame and popularity, he's not so famous or remotely powerful that faking a friendship with him is going to get them very far.

Among his queer friends, you've got Jennie who babies him, Godji who treats him like her son, and Oat who still adores him years after SOTUS. All of them queer, all of them visibly affectionate in a way that feels authentic, at least to me.

On the professional side of things, I think the best example of someone who wouldn't bother with him if he were homophobic is Golf Tanwarin Sukkhapisit. In 2022, Krist worked on The War of Flowers with Golf, a nonbinary queer activist, former MP, and director of The Eclipse. Since they're not just a queer person in the industry but a vocal queer activist who's made incredible progress for the community in their country, I value their judgment of his character.

Again, the reason I bring up these people isn't to say, "Look! Queer people! He knows some!"

It's to point out that he's close to them, and it disrespects their judgment to casually assume that they’d cosy up to a homophobe.

It's a small point, yes, but it was important to me when I first became a fan to see that queer people who know him personally had "vetted" him.

- Growth -

For this next section, I'll address three things I see brought up most often: the rape filter joke, the rumor that Krist said he doesn't like watching men kiss, and the claim that he's only doing BL because rent is due.

1) The Rape Filter Joke

In 2017, Krist and Singto were on a live with (I think) two other friends. They were testing out different filters, and when they got to a blur effect, one of them (one of the friends, I think) said it looked like the filter they put over victims of sexual assault on the news. They all laughed, including Krist and Singto.

I can't find a video of the original event, but we do have a translation of the apology he gave in 2018, and the public apology he made in 2020 when the video resurfaced again.

While this is unfortunate, and it would be nice if he hadn’t done it, I’m more interested in how he responds to criticism and his growth afterward. The incident was in 2017, but even speaking on it in 2020, he didn't make excuses for himself.

He apologized, accepted culpability, educated himself, and has never repeated it.

2) Krist "Doesn't Like to Watch Men Kiss"

There's also a claim that goes around that Krist said he doesn't like to watch men kiss. But that isn't what he said.

The subtitled interview that this claim was taken from has been split into two parts, and I think a lot of people have only seen the first half, if they've seen either.

(Also, my deepest apologies, but I'm linking you to Twitter for the video clips.)

In the first clip, the hosts tease Krist about Singto's sex scene with another actor in Close Friends. I can't speak to the nuances of what Krist is saying in Thai, but in the subtitles, he's basically saying that as a guy, he doesn't want to watch stuff like that and just skips past Singto and his partner to one of the other couples, like the male-female pairs. With just this clip, I agree that it doesn't sound great.

But in the second clip, the hosts tease Krist until he admits that the "stuff" he doesn't want to watch is Singto specifically kissing people who aren't him. Krist's jealousy, especially when it comes to Singto, is a well-trod fanservice joke.

3) He's Doing BL Only for the Money

I mean, I have no idea, but it'd be very weird if this was true, because he hasn't been in a BL since 2018 (if you count Our Skyy), and he's doing very well for himself financially.

Listen, this is probably the least serious people get when they criticize him, but I'm including it because why not, this is already a thesis.

From what I understand based on actors' comments, BL roles don't make a lot of money for the actors. (Boun even quoted a surprisingly low daily salary recently, and I'll share it here if I find it again.) Of course, I imagine Krist has enough fame and clout that he gets paid more than most actors, but to be frank, he absolutely makes more from all his other work.

Apart from the acting work he's done, he hosts two music shows, he starred in a musical recently, GMM just flew him to Japan for the first leg of his Asia concert tour, he runs a restaurant with Wave, and he has a bunch of sponsorships. And that's off the top of my head. The car from his accident in 2021 was a luxury model, and he replaced it with another pretty soon afterward. I'm not bragging for him or anything, but the "he's just doing BL for the money" is an odd thing to say when he probably already earns more than most without doing it.

It would have been a better argument back in 2016 when Krist's family was deep in debt. Krist's said that his main motivation to join the entertainment industry back then was to pay off that debt for his family, and he did so with the money he made from SOTUS.

Krist has spoken in the past about wanting to do more BL roles, but GMM preferred that he work with Singto. Now that Singto's left GMM (likely to start his own agency), Krist is in Be My Favorite, so I think his explanation tracks.

It's also worth mentioning that you can do something for the money and also love what you do. In the case of SOTUS, Arthit wasn't just a role that made him money, he's the character who changed Krist's life. He honors Arthit to this day by always wearing the bracelet he wore to his audition and by naming his music studio "SUN St." after Arthit.

(This is a very minor point, but I don't think a homophobe would cherish a queer role to quite that extent even if it was their kick-off point. If anything, they'd probably try to bury the role and pretend their real success started later.)

- Perception of Sexuality -

I think the reason the IG story hits people so hard is because Krist's reaction makes it seem like he's horrified that people could even think he's gay. My understanding is that he was tired of people interrogating him about his sexuality.

Krist is very openly affectionate with the people he loves, regardless of gender, which is clear in the photos with his friends above. Thus, he's always been like that with Singto. They hug before every show, they sleep on each other, cuddle, what have you. All the stuff of people who have developed a tight bond over the years.

When Krist was asked if he was afraid that that would put off potential partners in the future (which, good god, the questions they're asked) Krist said he doesn't care how people perceive his sexuality.

This was in 2018, the year Our Skyy aired, and he's said similar things in passing before and since.

- Conclusion -

All of what I've posted here is just a slice of what's out there. This is just the stuff I could find with reliable English translations because I'm making this for an English-speaking audience. Krist's fans already know all of this, which is why he has queer fans in the first place, and a lot of them are just too tired by hate fatigue to keep correcting misinformation.

I'm not trying to get every person in the world to like Krist, I promise. He's not perfect. He's a loud mess, and while he has four cats who love him, they're also exhausted by him. I just happen to like loud, obnoxious people, especially when they're as kind as he is.

There are plenty of Thai actors I don't vibe with for any number of reasons ranging from serious to petty. You have my written permission to dislike some people.

The Instagram story he posted was a bad move, we're all agreed. He agrees. He's apologized multiple times over the years. Whether one accepts his apologies is each person’s right, and I understand if this is enough to turn people away.

I just hope it's clear that he's been a staunch ally of the queer community and remains so to this day.

Personally, I'm more upset about the question.

This isn't a question you ask anyone.

And this wasn't the first fan to ask him.

According to people who have been fans from the SOTUS era, Krist and Singto were both relentlessly dogged by fans about 1) their sexualities and 2) details about their relationship with each other. We've all likely seen it happen to actors today, but back in 2016, there weren't hundreds of BL actors vying for the spotlight, so the spotlight hit Krist and Singto in a way that we can't imagine today. Most of us, myself included, arrived in this fandom long after SOTUS's meteoric rise to popularity that ended up saving GMMTV from bankruptcy, but given how many fans still behave like they're entitled to know an actor's sexuality, I think it's safe to trust that it was relentless. Fans accusing Kit Connor of "queerbaiting" as recently as 2022 is proof of that.

At the end of the day, there are plenty of reasons to dislike Krist, just like there are to dislike any person on this planet. He's hyperactive, he's whiny, etc. He's not flawless, but I think he's more than shown through his actions that he isn't homophobic, either.

He's not some actor playing queer roles for clout. He's vocally supportive of queer rights, and he backed that up this week in the polls by voting for the most progressive party in his country who are actively pushing for marriage equality.

But like I said, you don't have to like him, so I'll end this post with a quote from a friend who doesn't like Krist for the funniest reason I've ever heard:

"I don't think Krist is homophobic. I just don't like him because he reminds me of every kindergartener who demanded my attention at the exact moment when I was carrying something that could spill – and then it did spill, and they laughed about it for five minutes."

#krist perawat #be my favorite #if you made it to the end then i love you #thai actor #thai bl

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