#sorry it took ... uh... 4 months or something to answer it

[kwockwoc]

How do you think the boys at Kings Row react when watching a horror movie? 🍿✨

Hey anon, a thousand apologies for taking ~forever~ to answer your very kind ask 🙇 things got frantic for a while there 🙇

Please find, below the cut, a mini-fic on the KR boys, and scary movies (pls forgive any typos ✌️)

fright night (2.2k, T, under the cut)

Bobby’s mom’s place had one small room – she called it the family room, although it’d be a very small family that ever fit in there – that boasted an enormous wall-mounted TV.

Dante found this to be both hilarious and ridiculous because Bobby’s mom didn’t watch TV – she watched Mexican telenovelas on her iPad, with the volume set somewhere between maximum and deafening.

Despite this, at some point she’d had a full home theatre set-up installed, because – as Bobby had made clear, or tried to – his cousin’s friend’s uncle had been trying to get rid of his old one and, with one favour and another accrued over the years, he owed Bobby’s mom some inscrutably complex debt. She’d accepted the home theatre equipment as recompense, assuming, correctly, that Bobby would enjoy it.

Dante had grown very familiar with Bobby’s mom and Bobby’s house over the years of their friendship, which had blossomed into a complicated sexual relationship in their senior year, much to Bobby’s mom’s surprise. Dante had been such a fixture of their summers and family holidays for so long, that the idea of him as anything other than a tall and mostly silent wall ornament seemed a disproportionate surprise to her.

Are you sure? Bobby’s mom had asked when Bobby and Dante had told her they were dating.

Yes, mama, Bobby had said, mystified by her disbelief.

She’d peered up at Dante, and clutched for Bobby’s hands.

But – he’s so tall, she’d stage-whispered to her son, and Bobby had rolled his eyes so hard that Dante had feared they wouldn’t come down.

--

Nicholas and Seiji had graduated on Wednesday, and Bobby had – of course – organised a little get-together. Just low-key, just at his mom’s place. They’d get together and watch a scary movie. His mom insisted on serving a veritable feast, but that was nothing special. Putting these events together was just part of Bobby’s DNA. The challenge for Bobby seemed to be not organising a party every Saturday.

The movie was called Thrust II.

It was a bad horror movie, made in the 1990s, but set in the 1970s.

The concept was one of those urban-legends-turned-real stories. The main character had returned to her hometown after a long time away after some unnamed disgrace, which happened to overlap with some unseen figure with a knife going around causing gory havoc, there was a love interest with a murky past, plus a crooked smalltown cop, and… yada yada yada, all the same boring tropes, filmed badly and recently re-released for some reason in an extended edition.

Dante couldn’t remember who’d suggested this specific film. Probably Bobby, whose knowledge of scary movies was encyclopedic. At least Dante assumed that the movie was meant to be scary, but it wasn’t. At least, not really.

He was distracted after the first fifteen minutes, and was now having more fun watching the other guys than he was watching the movie.

Bobby, who now considered himself something of an aficionado when it came to cinema, had tuned out completely. He was slumped on the couch, scrolling Instagram on his phone, his face lit by the blue light of the phone screen, not even pretending to watch the movie anymore. It’s all so cliché, he’d muttered, before pulling his phone out and not looking up again.

By contrast, Nicholas and Eugene were terrified.

Nicholas – as usual – had turned the movie night into yet another excuse to grab hold of Seiji, approximately one grab every thirty seconds. Maybe it was more frequent than that, if Dante had bothered to time it more accurately. Nicholas and Seiji were sitting together – of course – on the loveseat just on Dante’s left, Seiji closer to Dante than Nicholas. At some point in the last hour Seiji appeared to have completely given up any semblance of resistance to Nicholas’s total disregard of normal physical distancing, and was now resigned to his new career as a squeeze toy.

And –

Yep, right on cue –

There was a sudden sting of dramatic music and another half-hearted jump-scare, and Nicholas was right on top of Seiji again. Nicholas squawked slightly and squeezed his eyes tight as he clamped his arms around Seiji’s middle. Seiji sighed, and drummed the fingers of his left hand on Nicholas’s thigh.

“Nicholas, this part isn’t even frightening,” Seiji whispered. Dante could barely hear the words over the on-screen screaming. Nicholas didn’t reply. He buried his face in Seiji’s sweater.

On the other side of the room, Eugene’s face was similarly buried, although his chosen target was one of Bobby’s plushies. He’d put his head there some minutes ago during a particularly gruesome scene and didn’t seem inclined to raise it again. Dante assumed he was still breathing, somehow.

Seated on the long couch, Harvard and Aiden were barely watching. Aiden was picking at a loose thread on the collar of Harvard’s t-shirt. Harvard seemed to have zoned out, and was reading something on his phone. Neither seemed bothered or even, well – interested. Tanner and Kally, seated alongside them, had been making out for the last half-hour. Aiden had muttered get a room a few times. They’d ignored him.

Bobby’s mom poked her head into the den, the light from the hallway like a spotlight in the darkened room.

“… all you boys okay in here?” she asked.

“Yes,” Harvard, Aiden, Seiji, and Dante chorused. Eugene and Nicholas didn’t respond. Eugene’s face was still securely in the plushie, and Nicholas’s was still firmly in Seiji’s sweater. Bobby was so focused on his phone he didn’t even look up. Tanner and Kally didn’t stop either. Dante turned his head to look at them, still making out. They must be breathing through their noses.

“You boys still hungry?” Bobby’s mom asked the darkened room.

Well, no. Surely they couldn’t eat any more tonight, even if they tried. She’d served a huge volume of food.

“No,” Harvard, Aiden, Seiji, and Dante replied.

Nicholas popped his head out of Seiji’s sweater, and turned his slightly reddened face toward the door. “Actually – I’m kinda hungry again,” Nicholas said, and Seiji groaned.

Bobby’s mom beamed at him.

“Such a nice boy,” she said approvingly.

--

Only Dante was staying over at Bobby’s place for the night. Aiden and Harvard were driving to Harvard’s place after the movie. Nicholas and Seiji would be going to stay with Seiji’s parents. Bobby had to tell Tanner and Kally they couldn’t stay over this time, or indeed, ever again,because Bobby’s mom was very clear on the no hanky panky! rule, and they’d so flagrantly breached said rule on their last sleepover that they could no longer be trusted. Tanner had brought his car.

When he and Bobby started officially dating, Bobby’s mom had pointedly reminded Dante of the rules constantly. She still did, when Bobby went to his room or drifted away to do something else for a few seconds. The instructions were always consistent: I know you’re a nice boy – Bobby’s a nice boy too. You’ll be nice boys in this house, won’t you? He would listen seriously, and nod, and she’d breathe a little sigh of relief.

Nice boys, presumably, did not…

Uh.

Fortunately Dante’s own parents weren’t so focused on being… nice.

Seiji and Nicholas were arguing on their way out the door, Tanner and Kally looking smug, as Aiden and Harvard tried to find Harvard’s keys. I gave them to you, Harvard was saying, patting his own butt.

The hallway was far too narrow for nine guys aged variously between nineteen and twenty-two, particularly when all of them were athletes and full of salt and sugar, and the house seemed almost to quake at the noise of their argument and conversation as they rolled from the den toward the front door of the small house.

And – oh, shit.

That…

That music from Eugene’s phone.

He must have bumped the wrong part of his screen.

Dante’s head craned backward to catch Eugene’s mortified expression.

“Eat that ass like a plum, this pussy tight like a nun,” Cardi B suddenly purred, mid-track, from the phone speaker at a volume that was approximately one thousand times too loud.

Aiden laughed.

“Eugene, for fuck’s sake,” Bobby hissed. Eugene looked sheepish and scrambled to hit pause.

It was a warm night. Dante and Bobby waited by the front door as the other guys departed.

The boys all towered over Bobby’s mom, who stood at the front door like a tiny sentinel, resolutely ignoring Eugene who was now blushing a truly dramatic shade of crimson. Even Bobby looked tall compared to his mom. She beamed up at them.

Seiji and Nicholas were the first to get to the door. Seiji had driven his second-hand Mitsubishi Mirage – which he’d bought with money he’d made tutoring, and which he’d parked, with enormous care, on the street – from New Haven to Hartford. Dante had been surprised the guy hadn’t got a ruler out of his pocket to measure the distance from curb to hubcap.

“Nicholas,” Bobby’s mom said, pushing a large plastic container stuffed with leftovers toward him. “You take this. You’re looking skinny.” Nicholas cooed something like that’s awesome and accepted the container with a gleeful smile.

She then fixed her gaze on Seiji, who had Nicholas’s left hand held firmly in his right.

“You too, Seiji,” she said with emphasis. “You should eat more. You eat half of what’s in that container, okay?”

“No way, it’s mine,” Nicholas said, clutching the container against his belly with his right hand, and frowning at Seiji as though he’d suggested sharing, although he hadn’t spoken yet.

“Just drop the container back in when you’re next in town,” she added.

Seiji sighed. “Thank you,” Seiji said, to the universe in general.

Bobby’s mom redirected her attention to the rest of the group. “So did you boys enjoy the movie?”

There was a muttered chorus of yeahs and it was OKs.

Tanner said, “What was it, even?” as Kally elbowed him.

“Pfft. Wasn’t even scary,” Nicholas said, with a little laugh, and Eugene nodded.

Aidan smirked at the back of Nicholas’s head. “Nicholas, please. You were afraid,” he said.

Nicholas spun around, aggrieved. “I was not!”

“Come on Nick, you really were,” Bobby yawned, as stretched out his arms. “I was half-asleep, and I still saw the raw terror in your eyes.”

Nicholas stared at Bobby, mouth wide. “Betrayal,” Nicholas whispered, and Bobby rolled his eyes.

Seiji tugged Nicholas toward the door. “Nicholas, please, it’s almost midnight. I want you at home.”

Aiden went oooh, and Harvard shushed him.

Tanner had inherited his dad’s old Ford Bronco, and it was covered in a ton of dust and mud from a recent trip out to one of the state parks. Dante knew from seeing it previously that the car was, in theory, silver, although it was a sullen shade of brown in the dim glow of the streetlights.

Eugene had just bought himself a 2018 Mazda MX-5, with a custom iridescent red paint job, which was obnoxiously loud. It roared to life in the otherwise quiet street with an energy that shook the windows of the house. “Holy crap,” Bobby muttered to Dante, “neighbours are gonna shit themselves.”

Aiden and Harvard left in an Uber. After graduation, they’d moved in together into an apartment about fifteen minutes by car from Bobby’s mom’s place, and as a result, Bobby and Dante unexpectedly saw a lot of both those guys – dinner dates and picnics mostly, but also jumble sales and antiques fairs, where Bobby and Aiden would haggle mercilessly with put-upon vendors for choice pieces, and be disappointed when the Boston rocker chair they paid a grand total of ten bucks for turned out not to be a genuine Michael Thonet.

With a final flurry of air kisses from Aiden, at last, all the guys had gone. Bobby pushed the door shut with a sigh, and peered up at Dante. He smiled.

“So,” Bobby’s mom said sharply, and Bobby and Dante swung their heads toward her. She was surprisingly good at fading into the background when she wanted to. “That was – good fun. Very good to have the – all the guys here, right?”

“Yeah, mom,” Bobby said genuinely. “Thanks for letting them come over.”

His mom hummed her appreciation. “Oh – Dante,” she said with a measure of astonishment, as if suddenly remembering that the six foot four man in her hallway was there. “I made the guest bed for you. Very comfortable.”

He cleared his throat. “Thanks.” The guest bed was a single he didn’t fit in. Not that he fit in Bobby’s three quarter much easier, and Bobby’s mattress wasn’t great – but in Bobby’s mom’s mind, Dante’s familiarity with Bobby’s bed was an entirely theoretical construct.

“The –” Bobby started, then stopped at a sharp look from his mom. “– guest bed,” he finished lamely. “Okay. Sure, mom. Dante can take the guest bed. But we’re gonna – stay up a little longer. Together.”

She beamed, with a mischievous edge. “So – now,” she said. “You wanna watch – a really scary movie?” She hoisted a blank DVD case in the air and waved it at Bobby and Dante. “Your cousin Daniela’s wedding. Four hours. Extended – extended cut, is that what they say?”

“Actually,” Dante said hurriedly, “I – I’m pretty tired, so I’ll, uh – go to bed. To sleep. Now.”

Bobby rolled his eyes, as Bobby’s mom’s expression softened.

“Such a nice boy,” she cooed.

[nana-gumi]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

next

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

-

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

-

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

-

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

-

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

-

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

-

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

-

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

-

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

-

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

-

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

-

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

-

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

[decodedlvr]

~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au

This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]

• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com

• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors

Eddie’s Pov

Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.

There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..

I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.

Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.

It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.

White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…

Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—

“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”

Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over

“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout

Lie.

“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies

Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—

“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile

You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”

——

She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.

We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.

We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.

Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first

It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.

She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.

All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.

Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.

Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck

“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat

-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”

“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.

I wonder how many guys she’s done this with

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—

Biggest fucking ego boot ever.

“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”

“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me

“You know you are”

—

Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.

She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.

After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.

Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.

Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..

Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.

I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now

——

“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance

“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.

You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters

You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡

fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man

Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)

I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back

Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡

Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not

I’m already there babe ;)

I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic

Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡

No way she’s a virgin talking like that

She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink

Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.

“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—

“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—

I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch

“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room

Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out

“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me

“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”

“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”

“Same thing” he glared

“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-

-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly

“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—

“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”

He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen

“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke

“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly

Cocky bastard.

Shit.

How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?

——

Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.

That was a fail, got carpet burn.

Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes

Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.

Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.

Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp

This shits hard. My back hurts.

Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off

FaceTime from Crush🖤

“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind

“Just took a hot shower is all”

“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen

“Well, that sounds like a party to me”

“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*

She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen

Fuck I’m hard again

“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge

Welp, gotta jerk off again

Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.

I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.

Should I shave?

Would she care?

A little trim wouldn’t hurt

May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.

Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror

Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket

—

My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.

Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor

“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.

What the hell is she wearing

A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater

is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes

“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”

and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed

those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor

fuck I’m wet already

“Come on, already got it all set up for us”

“Lead the way princess” following behind you

I need to bite those fuckin legs.

——

We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.

“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”

I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”

She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”

My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up

Something else is about to be up—

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross

“Something on your mind Ed’s?”

Gulp

“No no just— “ sigh

“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”

She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins

“You have no idea. ”

My breath hitches when you straddle me

Fuck me

“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang

Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her

“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”

Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”

Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”

Who the fuck are you she thinks

“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…

You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it

“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”

“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest

—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”

You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,

I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.

Eddie, score

“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater

The goddamn groan I let out

Jesus Christ

You lie back down bashfully covering yourself

A whore being shy huh?

“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,

“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly

Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -

“What??”

I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down

You don’t answer

“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”

“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers

Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies

I try it..

“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks

I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”

I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap

I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands

Cute little hair she has

“Can I um..”

She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —

“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite

“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling

You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“You’re packing Eddie”

“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her

“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock

-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend

She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding

Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face

Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble

Suck a pretty cock you think

You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick

“Y/n, y-you done this before?”

“Yeah—“

Damnit.

-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls

Hot.

Okay Eddie do what feels right

so that’s the clit? how cute

Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”

“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth

“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-

the only pussy I’ve ever tasted

I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted

Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me

“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere

“What?”

“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out

“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,

so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about

“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —

“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—

“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—

Holy shit who am I—

“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—

“Wait really?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—

Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours

“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”

Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”

The only head I’ve ever got

She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”

Lie.

Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—

Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it

Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core

You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in

“Wait! Wait!”-

“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—

“Eddie I need to tell you something..”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”

never done this before, never done this before

I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—

“Virgin too?”

“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”

“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking

“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”

“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—

“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”

“No..do you wanna stop?”

“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”

“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—

- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly

My heart is erect

I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”

Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—

“Holy fuck you’re so-

“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”

“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync

“Oh god”-

“What?”

“Holy god”—

“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—

“I told you, it’s okay”

“I know but that’s so embarrassing”

You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you

Silence.

“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”

“But you squeezed me?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”

Fucking Steve

-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—

“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”

Well shit

He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think

“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours

You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—

Was that a car door??

“Is someone here?”

“Honey we’re home!”

FUCK, not now!!

(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)

reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️

[talaok]

Hey. I have an idea for pedro and reader

The reader's ex calls her in the middle of the night begging her back to him and the reader gets out the bedroom trying not to wake pedro up and avoid any fight but he wakes up and gets jealous and angry

Jealous Pedro is my own personal curse lol, I genuinely don’t get why you like him. But for you? Anything babes. Also, happy ending won in the poll, but thanks to an anon I've decided to write both endings bc I'm an asshole

warnings: jealousy, angst

Pt.2

Oh fuck please not again.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you didn’t even need to look at the caller to know who it was.

Only one person would call you at 4:45 am. the same one that had been flooding you with texts and calls for a week now.

You had been ignoring him, telling yourself that “It’s just a phase” and “it’ll pass”, but god, had you been wrong.

You and Jason had broken up two years ago now, and casually, just when you had finally made your relationship with Pedro public, he felt the need to connect with you again.

That's not how Jason had always been, he was once caring and fun and everything you needed... until he wasn't.

He hadn't taken your breaking up with him well, and you tried to be understanding of it, god knows you had been in the same position too once or twice, your heart broken, your mind confused- but then when after two months he'd still call you crying, you decided to give him a little tough love by texting him something that could be summarized in "I know you're hurt but this is getting kind of ridiculous at this point" and by blocking him.

Somewhere after that, for some godforsaken reason, you had decided to unblock him, and to really show off your decision-making skills, you even answered the phone when he had called you last week, finding him in tears, begging for a second chance.

If you were anyone to judge, this call wasn't gonna be much different, but this story had to end at one point, and as you got up from the bed, sneaking out of the room as Pedro breathed soft snores into the air, you decided the time had come.

"Jason?" you whispered, tiptoeing to the living room.

"baby? Oh my god it's really you, I've been trying to call you"

"yeah I saw" you stated, not short of sarcasm

"Oh t-that's ok, you were busy I jus-"

"no Jason I wasn't busy, this is inappropriate"

"Wha-what are you talking about baby, I love you" 

there went the tears again

"Jason I'm sorry alright, but I don't, I have a boyfriend, I'm happy"

"no you don't understand babe I can't live without you, I love you more than life y/n, more than anything... I- I need you"

"Jason we broke up a long time ago. It's over. It has been for a while now"

"you don't mean that baby, we love each other, remember how good we were together? I know you do"

"stop calling me baby and stop calling me in general Jason. I don't love you and I don't want to get back together" Your voice raised to a whispery-yell as you got more frustrated.

"Why are you whispering- Is he there? Let me talk to him"

"why would I do that? What would you even want to tell him?"

"I'm sure I can make him understand, man to man y'konw-"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Jason stop calling me"

"but bab-"

"No. No buts, it's over. we're never getting back together. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to sleep, and I suggest you do the same"

"y/n please- I love you, I need you I-"

"goodnight Jason. Don't call me again" You didn't give him time to finish as you hung up, throwing your phone on the couch and closing your eyes as you took a very well-deserved deep breath.

Fuck this shit man.

"Who was it?"

You jumped on your feet, a shiver of fear running down your spine as you turned towards the ominous voice.

"Pedro-" you sighed, taking in his sleep-filled expression.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you" he apologized, with a soft chuckle "Who were you talking to?"

shit

"uh- don't worry, it was no one"

"I don't think it was no one if you got up at 4 in the morning to answer, did something happen?"

"no-no nothing like that, it's stupid, don't worry"

He frowned as he studied your expression, clearly confused at your secrecy.

"Who was it?"

Your eyes focused behind him at the glimpse of your room the opened door granted.

Everything was fine just 10 minutes ago...

"It was Jason"

Pedro paused a moment, taken aback by your answer

"Jason as in your ex-boyfriend Jason?" he asked "And why exactly was Jason calling you in the middle of the night?"

"it's not what you think" 

This was why you didn't want him to know.

He had a history with unfaithfulness, the woman before you had cheated on him multiple times and left him hurt and bruised, and it was hard for him to fully trust you - or anyone for that matter- after that.

you didn't want him to close off again, you trusted each other, and you feared this would have given him a reason to get back to old habits.

"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"

"no, let me explain-" you got closer to him.

"I'm so fucking stupid" he huffed, not listening to you 

"no you're not, just-listen to me" you said, putting a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm him down

He watched you, hurt and anger in his eyes, but he took a breath, nodding as he grumbled a "fine"

"He's been calling me for a while-"

"is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Baby, let me talk" you reminded him, and he gave you another non-enthusiastic nod "He's been calling me since I made our relationship public, saying that he wants to get back with me and that he loves me..." you paused, glancing at the way he tightened his fists by his side "and I've been ignoring him because-" your lips turned into a soft smile as you reached for his hand "...well because I've got you, and I don't want anybody else in the world except you"

You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your mouth to leave a quick kiss on it.

"and the only reason why I answered tonight is because I was sick of it, and I wanted to tell him once and for all that we're done because I love you, and only you Pedro" You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek "I promise"

You saw the way your words affected him.

And as much as he tried to fight it, you were always the only one able to calm him down, even when his worst fear came to life. Because he loved you, but most importantly... he trusted you.

"are you telling the truth?" he finally asked, as if in his mind he wasn't praying for you to be doing just that.

He didn't want to lose you, he couldn't.

"I am baby. I swear" 

His eyes left yours for a second as he took a deep breath

"why didn't you tell me? I would have done something, I would have gone have a talk with that asshole"

You let out a small laugh

"yeah, a talk" you teased, raising your eyebrows "And besides it didn't matter, it was just a stupid thing not worth your time"

he took your other hand in his, shaking his head

"if he, or anybody else, does this again you tell me, ok?" 

As much as you wanted to joke about how many crazy exes he believed you had, you decided this wasn't the time.

"ok" you smiled "I promise"

"good" he nodded, bending down to ghost your lips "Now let's go to bed so I can remind you of a few things I'm sure I'm better at than Jason"

__ __ __

or... (angst with no happy ending)

__ __ __

"It's not what you think"

"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"

"It was just a phone call Pedro, just let me explain"

"A phone call with your ex-boyfriend"

"yes, exactly my ex-boyfriend"

"This is unbelievable," he huffed, passing a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture "I fucking trusted you. You made me trust you, and then... then you go screw that fucking asshole behind my back"

"I'm not screwing anybody"

"sure you aren't" he turned to walk away, but you grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me"

"To what? more lies?" he snapped 

"No Pedro I can explain if you just let me talk"

"I don't need an explanation, I know exactly what's going on, just- leave me, I'll go"

"Just like that?" you questioned "You don't even wanna hear me out for a second? You so easily lose all the trust you had in me?"

"Can you blame me?" 

"This is ridiculous, I've answered the phone to tell him to stop calling, that's the only reason why! I'm not cheating on you" you spoke, your tone getting louder "And the fact that you came to that conclusion so quickly is fucking insulting"

"right" he snickered "so you answered the phone at four in the morning to tell him to stop calling, very believable y/n" he shook his head "and to think you're a fucking actress"

"fuck you Pedro" you spat out "You know what? I deserve someone who trusts me, who lets me fucking speak and explain myself, not someone who at the first mistake throws me out like trash"

"And I deserve someone who's not a cheater. Guess we both deserve better"

"I guess we do"

[swee7dream]

how would the dreamies react to their s/o regressing for the first time in front of them after being super stressed and not being able to be a little ? ^^

it’s been a long time caregiver!nct dream x gender-neutral!regressor!reader

genres sfw age regression content, established relationship, hurt / comfort, angst in some, bits of fluff in all warnings involuntary / vent regression, regression block, negative self-talk, haechan's is long sry dni if you sexualize age regression. not only blocking but also reporting.

author’s note i'm SO sorry this took so long for me to get out. i promise i didn't forget about you, nonnie! i might've geared a little bit ( a lot ) off the prompt at times but i still hope you like it ! thx 4 requesting !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ) wc 642

With all your responsibilities lately, Mark finds it logical that you don’t regress as often as you used to. The last time he remembers was over three months ago. He misses taking care of you, hearing your sweet voice call out for your 'Mack!'. But he doesn’t want to burden you even more with any expectations to do anything you weren’t feeling up to do. He wasn’t planning to bring it up. Honest.

That was until you started coming home to avoid his kisses and go straight to bed. That moment left a pang in his heart.

In the silence and tension of your apartment, Mark finds himself in your little corner of tiny things, picking up your toys and dusting off your coloring books with longing. He misses his baby, so he’s going to get his baby back, he decides, no matter what it takes.

“Oh look, that new Disney movie came out you said you wanted to go see it, right?”

“I’m tired, Mark.”

“…okay.” He bites the inside of his cheek.

Just keep trying, Mark. You got this.

“Babe, I’m doing laundry. You want me to wash Cheese Doodle?” He knocks at your office door.

“Huh?” You raise your head as if you were a fish out of water. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Thank you.”

Hmph.

“What is that?” You give the box in Mark’s hand a look.

“It’s a game. Picked it up at the store. It’s like… Twister? But there’s something different about it. I dunno, I didn’t pay attention to the label and just bought it. Chenle asked that we bring some kind of board game for his party on Saturday.”

“Oh. Well, I have a thing on Saturday so tell him I can’t go but I hope everyone has fun.”

As the saying goes, the fourth time’s a charm.

“You’re not going to bed?” You rub your eyes, already in your night clothes and under the sheets.

“Not really tired,” he replies with a shrug as he makes his way out into the kitchen. “I think I’m gonna make myself some angel milk to get the sleeping juices going. That always worked for you. You want some?”

You’re already pretty tired, the events of the day had sucked every last drop of potential energy from you. Still, some angel milk in all its sweet, vanilla-tasting glory makes you lick your lips.

“…yeah. Please,” you answer.

When he comes back from the kitchen, he has your warm drink in one hand and Cheese Doodle—your orange puppy stuffie—in the other.

“Sit up for me, baby,” he says softly as he sits down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to spill anything from your favorite mug.

“Unicorn…!” You notice, taking the pink and rainbow cup in your two sleeve-clad hands. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Mark smiles. “and I just took cheese doodle out of the laundry too. Used the fabric softener that you like. Wanna feel?”

“Oh.” In a second, you’re like a cat rubbing your cheek against Cheese Doodle’s fur. “Smells good, Markie. Thank you.”

”Of course, baby. Feeling tiny?” He asks only now that he’s 95% sure you are.

”Little bit,” you admit into your mug, slurping quietly to not burn yourself.

”Aw.” He pouts. “That’s good. You know, Markie missed you, baby. I haven’t held my baby in such a long time.”

”Missed Markie too.” You blink at him with sleepy eyes and a milk mustache. “Lot.”

”Wanna cuddle for a little then?”

”Just for a lil' bit.” You nod, placing your angel milk on the bedside table.

Mark knows the mug will be forgotten by the morning but he'd rather make and waste a million angel milks than for you to forget him and Cheese Doodle again.

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა wc 594

“Oh that’s a nice painting, Jun,” you praise, resting your chin on his shoulder as he sits on a stool. “Very pretty.”

“I feel like it’s missing something, though,” he says with a frown. “Here. You paint something.”

“On your canvas?” You look at him. “No way, love. I’ll ruin it.”

“You won’t. Now take the brush.”

“I won’t.” You step back and cross your arms. “I’m not gonna mess up this painting you’ve been working so hard on with my clumsiness.”

“What are you talking about? You always add something to my paintings.” Renjun gives you a look. The look that makes you want to roll your eyes.

“And they’re always so much better before me.”

“You don’t think that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you talking about yourself in this way all of a sudden?”

“Because it’s true!” You explode. There’s a burning in the backs of your eyes as you keep talking. “All I’ve been doing lately is messing up stuff for other people. I’m no good, Renjun.”

“…”

“My boss thinks it, my team members think it. I know you think it too!” You sob.

“Darling-”

“Stop it, Jun.”

“Darling,” he repeats, taking your hand in his. “come here.”

He pulls you in with one hand and wipes your tears with another, so careful he almost makes you think you are glass.

“What’s in that green binder in the bookshelf over there?” he asks.

“What?” You furrow your brows. “I don’t know.”

“Go check.”

You give him a look but make your way to the oak bookshelf; filled with sketchbooks, novels, and a singular green binder. You look at Renjun when your fingers touch the spine and take it out only after he nods. Your knees wobble as you flip through the pages so you let your bottom hit the floor.

In the binder are the handwritten notes from back before the two of you even started dating; flirtatious exchanges recorded on coffee shop napkins, gum wrappers, and ripped-up bits of college notes. The next stage of your relationship is at the flip of a page; rushed post-it notes of domestic living with 'I love you!'s and 'Don't forget to eat!'s kept safe in the plastic sheets.

You look up at him with surprise but he only nods his head for you to keep flipping pages. You flip through empty slips until you almost reach the back cover and find all the drawings you’ve made for Renjun over the years while in regression. Each and every one. Even the ones where you're mad at him and have him eaten by monsters.

“You kept them…” You pass a finger over a drawing you made of the two of you, your stickmen-selves holding hands and smiling in a rocket ship.

“Of course I did, baby. How could I throw away something so perfect?” You hear his voice next to you, having gotten up from his seat to crouch next to you on the floor. He gently pulls your head into his chest and his lips drop to kiss the top of your head. “I don’t think you mess up things, my love. Ever. You simply change their direction. My Lovebug is the most creative, innovative person in the whole wide world, didn’t you know?”

“Junnie…” You sob, the dam of pent-up emotions finally seeking release.

“Hi there, babybug.” He whispers. “I’m right here, lovey. Right here. Let it all out.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა wc 655

“Babe, the ice is melting and your coke is turning into gross, brown, sweet-tasting water,” Jeno warns.

“One second, baby. I just need to finish this assignment real quick,” you mutter with your bottom lip bit in place.

It seems you’re still in the same clothes from three days ago, the same amount of time Jeno’s seen you stay in bed studying. He’s beginning to think your butt might be attached permanently to the mattress at this point. When it comes to your bedside table, your 5-hour energy from lunchtime being the latest addition to the food trash and empty water bottle pile doesn’t fill him with any more positive thoughts.

“When’s it for?” He sighs. “Your assignment.”

“…what?” You turn your head to him but your eyes stay on the screen. “Oh, um, Friday.”

“It’s Monday. Come on.” Jeno pulls at your arm like a spoiled child. “I’m not even making you shower or anything. I just wanna hang out with my hermit, stinky, computer nerd. Will you grant me my wish please?”

You look up with a half-offended, half-amused expression and your jaw dropped.

“I’m not stinky!” You fail to shake off your arm from his hold. “I told you I’m coming! I just really need to finish this.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye- ah!” You squeal as Jeno pulls at your arm, throwing you over his shoulder. “Jeno! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too. Monday to Friday is five days-”

“Four days!”

“-and that’s more than enough time to finish your assignment.” He refuses to acknowledge your interruption. “You are going to eat a proper dinner with me on the couch as we watch TV and you’re gonna like it, you got that?”

“Augh…!” You groan, going limp on him.

“Oh, I know.” Jeno pouts as he sets you on the couch, covering you in your train-print fleece blanket. “I’m so mean, aren’t I? Asking you to take a break when all you wanna do is work, work, work.”

You just stare at him, squinting your eyes as you fail to hide a smile.

“Well unfortunately for you, gumdrop, babies don’t work! So I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The police will come after me if I do. Child labor laws or something like that.”

He leaves a quick kiss on your forehead right before speeding to the kitchen. Jeno’s eyebrows wiggle in a wave when he returns with your food; apple slices, chicken nuggets, and fries all in their respective spots in your divided plate.

The original pasta and movie date night plan being scrapped for a Nono-Gumdrop night doesn’t phase Jeno. In fact, it excites him. Your projects and exams and assignments and professors... he tries so hard not to hold resentment against them all as they pull his baby away from him. But tonight? Tonight is different, and for once in his life, caregiver Jeno is triumphant.

“Thank you…” Your fingers wrap around the blue silicone and Jeno engulfs you in a bear hug when he sits down. Tight but not so tight it obstructs your arms when eating. “What are we watching, Nono?”

“Max and Ruby.” He smiles when you gasp.

“Love Max and Ruby!” You gush with a mouthful of apples.

“Do you?” Jeno drops his head to the side. “You do? You do? Nuh-uh. I do. It’s my favorite show in the whole wide world.”

“Well, ’s my favorite show in the whole galaxy!”

“Yeah? Well-”

You squeal, feeling ticklish when he nuzzles his stubble on your face.

“Nono, stop!” You giggle.

“Eat up, gumdrop.” He sighs, the feeling of his baby in his arms and eating a proper meal for the first time in days is an incomparable joy. “Two episodes and then it’s bathtime.”

“Ah, boo, Nono!” you whine but it turns back to giggles when he compresses you in his arms.

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ wc 994

“You there, Angel?”

You shake your head.

It feels strange, like your body isn’t yours, as you hold on tight to your dolls in your hands and see none of the lively sparkle in their eyes you usually do when you’re small.

“I’m broken, Hyuck,” you say with such a lack of emotions that you can’t tell if it’s actually you who is speaking. “I did everything right. I got dressed, I put on the music box, I’m trying to play for God’s sake. And nothing is working still. I feel ridiculous. A grown adult trying to act like a child.” You scoff.

“Hey, stop.” Donghyuck’s firm tone sends a shiver down your spine and you pull away. His shoulders drop when he notices; you’re scared and he’s only making it worse.

“That’s my baby you’re talking about, you know?” He tries again, with a softer tone this time. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not broken.” He holds your cheek.

“I’m just so tired, Hyuck.” Tears come up and blur your vision. “Everything has been going on for so long at the exact same time and I just- I can’t anymore. I need to just step away from reality for a little bit but I can’t even do that. My brain is just locking me in here in this state of suffering for who knows how long and I have no way of getting out. Not even for an hour.” You sob.

“I know, lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, letting you in turn wrap your arms around his legs from your seat on the floor. “It’s been so much for so long. You deserve a little break. Take a deep breath. Let’s try to let go of all these grownup worries, okay? We can pick them back up later. Come on, Angel, breathe.”

Angel.

Channie called you Angel and you still don’t feel small. The realization makes for more tears to come up but you refuse to let another defeated cry leave you. The denim of his jeans is rough on your face but not rough enough to make you stop using it as a tissue for your tears.

“…okay,” you creak out. “Breathe in. Breathing in…”

“There we go.” Haechan passes a hand over your head, the sensation soothing you somewhat. “And out. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Good job, Angel. Nice long deep breaths.”

You repeat the action several times, following his counts and pushing yourself to feel his jeans under your fingertips and smell the woodsy notes of his cologne to ground yourself.

“Everything sucks,” you say after some moments of silence. “Everything sucks. I didn’t even ask for any of this. I just want to be small,” your voice breaks.

“And you will be.” Donghyuck’s touch is gentle, encouraging you without words to look up at him. The pad of his thumb is warm when it wipes the tears from your face, brushing against your damp lashes. “You will be. I promise.”

“I don’t know what to do, Hyuck. I’m all out of ideas at this point,” you admit.

“How about just trying to feel not sucky?” He scrunches his nose, the most tender of smiles painted on his face. “How about… just drawing a picture? Just one. Doesn’t have to be with crayon or marker like when you’re feeling tiny. It can be whatever you want it to be. Don’t think about being small, just about drawing.”

“…draw what?”

“Hm… what about your dolls?”

When you unwrap yourself from his legs to look at said dolls, it gives Donghyuck the chance to go grab your art supplies. Your dolls don’t have that lively aura you see them with when you’re small but you can almost feel a sort of pity and empathy from them. It reminds you of the type of support your friends give you in their messages despite the country lines separating you.

“And I’ll draw… a car. Jeno’s been getting me into Formula One.” Donghyuck pulls you out of your thoughts when his voice is so close it makes you turn to see he’s taken a seat next to you on the floor. He opens a pencil case right in front of you two and takes a black pencil for himself to begin sketching on some paper.

“Really?” You opt a red pencil.

“Yeah. It’s pretty interesting.” He shrugs.

“But ’s so boring.” You sniffle up some snot from your lightning-fast crying session. You didn’t even cry for that long, how come you can feel your eyes swelling? So annoying. “They just go around in circles.”

“It’s not just that though. There’s—pass me the red? Oh, you have it. No, it’s okay. I can wait—there’s like a ton of beef between them. I like watching the interviews and stuff. It’s like watching basketball or football.” Haechan lets out a groan as he lays on his stomach, resting a cheek on his fist. “That’s really pretty, baby.”

“Y’like it?” You move to mirror him, turning your drawing for him to see better. “Think I’m gonna add some other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Probably you. I always like drawing you. And then… your red car. You can take me and the dollies on a road trip. I like it when we have fun together.”

Affection floods out of Donghyuck, letting out an adoring ‘aw’ as he hugs you, leaving kisses on all the spots he knows won’t lead to a tickle fight.

“So cute! I always have fun with you. My Angel...” he hums into your temple.

“My Channie…” you mutter under your breath, sketching his head four times bigger than the rest.

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ wc 664

“I’m okay.” You rub your nose. “Just a couple sneezes, Jaem. It’s not a big deal. I can keep studying for a little while longer.”

“You sneezed four times in a row.” Jaemin stands next to your desk chair with his arms crossed. “Do you know what that means?”

“What?” You sigh, knowing he won’t leave until you entertain him.

“You have the plague.”

“The what?”

“The plague.”

“Baby, I don’t have the-” Achoo! “the-” Achoo! “the plague…”

You move your mouse around your screen and click away at it but it doesn’t hide the reflection of Jaemin’s intense stare into your skull. He’s not amused. You spin your chair around.

“I don’t have the plague,” you repeat with a clogged nose, not even convincing yourself this time. “…I just have a little cold.”

“I wonder where you could have gotten that from, hm?” He turns you toward him by the chair’s arms and traps you by holding onto both of them and leaning in until your foreheads almost touch. “Maybe from studying a little too much? From stretching yourself too thin? Pushing yourself past your limits? Hm? Hm? hm?” He turns his head at an angle with each question, being obnoxious about his accurate statements.

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I just need to email this professor.”

“No.”

“I have a group project.”

“Good thing you have groupmates, huh? Come on, get off your pretty little butt.” He grabs you from under the armpits, placing your feet on the ground as if you were merely a bag of rice. “We’re playing hospital.”

“No…” you whine with dragging feet the whole time Jaemin guides you to the kitchen, his gentlemanly hand giving you no chance to run as it rests on the small of your back.

“Yes…” He pouts at you as he fills up the syringe with orange medicinal syrup. “Babies need be good and take their medicine when they are sick, okay?”

“Jaemin-” You pull your head the other way, holding his wrist away from you.

“Baby…” he sings, dodging your attempts. “Say ‘ah’, pumpkin.”

Pressing your lips tight doesn’t do anything, the plastic tip of the syringe still slipping in and filling your mouth with bitter medicine that makes a lame attempt at orange flavoring. You shake your head, still rejecting the cold syrup as it goes down, but it does regardless, chilling your throat when it does.

“Bleh!”

“Drink some water, baby.” Jaemin holds up a cup (when did he fill that up?) and you take it as if it were the key to eternal life.

“Taste so icky,” you say with your face scrunched up like a raisin. “Hate it!”

You’re sick and suffering from forced consumption of medicine. Jaemin knows this. Jaemin shouldn’t smile. But he just can’t help it! His baby is finally back after such a long, long time. he thought he was gonna die from BWS (Baby Withdrawal Symptoms).

“Aw…” His hands reach out to hold your face and squish your cheeks together. “Baby doesn’t like medicine? Babies don’t like yucky bitter things. Babies like… sweet yummy things! How about some hot chocolate, lovey-dovey?”

“Chocwate?” you ask with raised eyebrows.

“Hot chocwate.” His nose scrunches as he pinches your cheeks. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!” You hop free of his crab claws. “Hot chocolate! Wanna, wanna, wanna!”

“Be careful, sugarplum!” Jaemin laughs, twirling you with such ease it feels as if you were in a dance. “Why don’t you go put something on the TV while I make us the chocolate? Whatever you want, baby,” he says, but you’re already out of the kitchen and looking under blankets and cushions for the remote.

“Spongebob!” You hold it up to the ceiling like it were the sword in the stone.

“Except Spongebob. You know that shrinks your brain.”

“Aw!” You slump but quickly straighten up like a ruler. “Ah- Ah- Achoo!”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ) wc 622

“I’m so proud of you.” Chenle pecks your head as you hold his waist from behind. The smells coming from the stove you two stand in front of are nothing if not heavenly. “Pretty, funny, kind, graduated. How’d I bag you?”

“Mmm, I dunno.” You shrug smugly, as you look out the window. A content sigh leaves you as your eyes follow the raindrops that slide down your window. “Must’ve done something good in your past life.”

“Must have,” he hums. “Set the table for me? I’m basically almost done.”

“You got it.” You peck his cheek. “Smells delicious. Jaemin give you cooking lessons while I was gone?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. I don’t need any cooking lessons. Never have.”

“Ah…” You roll out the placemats with a sarcastic nod.

“But if I did, I would go to Donghyuck.”

“If you did, I would approve. His soups are good.”

“Mine are better.”

“…”

“Right?”

“Sure.”

The music playing from the speakers and lights in the apartment all shut off at once, not even the hum of the refrigerator sounding in the silence, the darkness. The thunder is so close it feels like footsteps. Heavy, angry footsteps coming close. Closer and closer to you.

The power comes back as soon as it left but you can’t seem to recover as fast. You don’t even remember dropping down to hold your knees, and in the dark you didn’t see how many tears came up to overflow from your eyes. Chenle calls out your name but it sounds so distant it doesn’t even register. It feels like you’re running out of oxygen like a deep sea diver falling hopelessly down to the ocean floor.

“Hey,” you take a sharp inhale at Chenle’s warm hands holding your cheeks ground you back to reality. “Hey, the power went out. Everything’s fine. You’re okay. You’re home, you’re with me. Nothing is gonna hurt you here, you hear me? You are safe.”

You almost knock Chenle over from his crouching position when you throw yourself on him, but he reads your body language just in time to catch you. His lips press into your hair, your temples, your shoulders, the softest of touches as you wail into his shirt. His heart breaks at how fragile you seem in the moment, like a porcelain doll with a chip. You sob and babble to the point that Chenle can’t understand what you’re saying. All he can catch is one word.

“Daddy…”

There’s nothing for you to do but cry, Chenle’s learned with time, so he lets you do just that. He lets you cry in his arms there on the floor and when you’re finally willing he attaches you to his hip as he walks around. He wipes your tears with a paper towel and makes sure you get a bottle of water to drink from to rehydrate.

His eyebrows furrow when you turn your head to dodge his spoon, rejecting the meal you were so looking forward to less than twenty minutes ago. This meal which was meant to be a celebration of not just the end of your education but of all your life up to this point. Of your growth, your endurance; of all the stress you put yourself through to come out victorious in the end.

You’re still victorious, he thinks. Even now as you fill up the apartment with tears, he’s so proud of you. His partner, his baby, the strongest person he’s ever met.

“Come on, dollface. Just one spoonful, yeah? Need you to eat,” he tries again.

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩) wc 668

“What’s that giant box?”

“What giant box?” He looks at you on the couch. “...I thought you were napping.”

“I woke up. What’s with that giant box you’re pushing into our house?”

“Oh, this?” Jisung looks down. “It's… a box.”

You blink, irritation in your tight-lipped smile at your boyfriend’s lack of cooperation.

“I know it’s a box, Ji. I'm asking what’s inside the box?”

“Box… stuff…”

“Jisung!”

“That’s not my name!” He whines as he shuts the front door. “My name to you is Ji! Or Baby! Not Jisung! It’s so scary when you call me that...” He sighs. “It was supposed to come before you started your vacation time, while you were at work.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows come together into a questioning frown.

“Because- just- you’ll see soon. Pass me the scissors? Thanks.” He pecks your lips, taking the scissors from your hands and pushing your back away with little force. “Now go. Get! Your surprise will be ready in a minute. Go… brush your dolls’ hair or something. It’ll be super quick.”

“Doll hairs? is it a Little gift?”

“Shoot.” Jisung bites his fist. “...can you just go in the bedroom already? It’s not a Little gift. It’s not.”

The instructions that came in the box of the not-Little gift said construction would only take thirty minutes. Not to fear, with super handyman Park Jisung to the rescue it only took three hours and two people.

“We’re done!” You clap, looking in awe at your brand new play kitchen, pink and wooden and creaky and yours. “Jiji, finish!”

“Yeah.” He sits back on the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We’re finished. D’you like it?”

“It’s so pretty, jiji!” You beam, hugging his head and squeezing the brains out of him.

“I’m glad you like it, bub.” He nods at his work in approval. “You deserve it. Worked so hard recently.”

“Thankie!” You get up quickly, running barefoot into the bedroom to come back with a box of play food in all colors and sizes.

“Make you a lenonade, bubby!” You begin adding ice to a cup and add a lemon to it. “Ice cold lenonade.”

“Oh, I love your lenonade. Thanks, baby.” He takes the cup, making gulping noises and finishing it off with a loud and satisfied ‘ah!’. “Actually, are we playing restaurant right now?”

“Um… yeah!” you decide. “Welcome to my rest’rant! What would you like to order?”

“I would kill for a good burger.” Jisung pats his stomach like a starved man. “I hear you guys have some good ones, is that true?”

“The truest!” You smile. “One burger, comin’ up!”

You turn back to your kitchen and hum to yourself as you place a burger patty on the stove.

“No pans for that?”

“No pans!” You shake your head. “Special burger.”

“Ah, must be.” He mutters behind you.

When it comes to building time, Jisung acts like a to-be-blacklisted customer.

“Could I have no onions in my burger? I’m allergic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s just play pretend, honey.”

“Oh. Then, yes you can, sir! No onions.”

“And no tomatoes please. I don’t like how the seeds get stuck between my teeth.”

“No tomatoes!”

“And could you cut the cheese? It kind of sends me to the bathroom.”

“Ew… okay, no cheese, either!” You toss the slice of play cheese to the side.

“…could you also remove the meat? I’m vegetarian.”

That’s the final straw. No meat? You look down at his ‘burger’: bread, lettuce, bread.

“This is what you want?” You turn to show him his order.

“Oh yes.” He smiles, clasping his hands together in anticipation. “That’s my burger! So tasty. Thank you, shop owner.”

“You’re welcome…” You give him a look. “Ketchup?”

“No thanks.”

“Mayo?”

“Bleh! Pass.”

“…barbeque sauce?”

“Oh, that’s my favorite! Lettuce and barbeque sauce burger, my favorite.” He licks his lips.

“Jiji, ew!” you whine.

tag list ( ask / comment to join ! ) @mystarsohee @cupofwyn @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip @aeriaeri

[milkweedman]

hello! need help learning how to do a thing and it's your area of expertise so im squirrelling into your ask box (dad joke, sorry.) ANYWAY

i have a lot of jeans that i really really like. however, my most worn jeans tend to, uh. rip in the seat after some time. either near the ass, or at the crotch. this is super irritating, and i don't like tossing the jeans just because of that but i have no idea how to fix them or what to do about this.

i vaguely remember you posting on here about jeans wear and tear as well. sorry if im asking you something that you have already answered, but just wanted to know - what's a good way of mending jeans ripped in the crotch area?

better yet, how do i reinforce my jeans that are showing the warning signs of ripping at the crotch?

My jeans literally just ripped a couple days ago and ive been wearing sweatpants to work out if laziness, so you have good timing 🐿

There might be many ways to do this (and there's definitely NEATER ways to do this) but here's how I fix mine:

They just sort of wore right through. Luckily I was able to catch it before they started ripping too. The sooner you catch a hole the better--and noticing before it rips is best.

You will need a sewing needle (for jeans I like the shortest sharpest needle with a small eye but use whatever needle is comfortable), scissors, a strip of scrap fabric, and some thread. Ideally thread in the same color as your jeans, but I'm using one that will stand out so you can see the repair. Also, nobody will see this later so it doesn't really matter. Pins will also help keep things neat but aren't strictly necessary.

The strip of fabric should be big enough to cover the entire area that wears out, doubled over, on this leg. You can of course just patch the hole, but then you'll grow a new hole a centimeter to the left, so its less work to just do this now.

For preventative measures (sewing a patch on before there is a hole) the process is exactly the same. Just patch the area you know will wear out.

Step 1: turn the pants inside out. fold your patch and pin it in place. We want a doubled patch because a single layer might wear through as well. If you don't have pins, you can use a spare needle or just set it over the repair site.

Like so. If you want these to look nice, keep everything neat and straight. I just want these mended and don't care how it looks one iota, so mine will be messy.

Step 2: thread your needle with doubled thread. A single thread can and probably will wear through here.

Step 3: put your non dominant hand down the leg you're fixing. Your hand should be under the patch supporting while you sew. If you have an embroidery hoop or something leg-sized to put there to hold things taut, that's even better.

Step 4: start sewing the patch down. First we just want to secure it before we do any reinforcing. You could use any stitch here ( whipstitch would probably be good, backstitch is good as well) but I just use a simple running stitch. Go around the entire patch, removing pins if present as you go. Keep your stitches loose here, or at least not tight.

Step 5: reinforcing ! This part can be done on either side, and the front is going to look way neater than the back. If this is in matching thread I'd go ahead and work on the inside because the messy outside won't be seen. If it's contrasting thread you may want to work on the outside, so that at least you have a good pattern. I don't care either way, so I'll work on the inside as it's a little easier. Like I said, this repair really won't be seen when wearing the pants, so the aesthetics aren't very important imo.

To reinforce, I will stitch plus signs/x's over the entire patch. You can do them one at a time or sew all the horizontal lines, then sew vertically to intersect. It's up to you, I like doing them one at a time though.

Yes, they're very bad. Yes this will still extend the life of these pants several months at least. Yes it would be even more effective if I took the time to be neater.

On top on the right image is the patch I did on the other side when they started shredding 5 or 6 months ago. The fabric on the front is only just now starting to fail again, so they will need another round of mending. I will probably extend the patch down the leg a little but mostly just sew more. When you add a layer of thread over fabric, now you have to wear through all of the thread before you start wearing down the fabric again. That's largely how these patches work.

A much much neater and more aesthetic form of this basic idea is sashiko sewing. It's a great way to mend things like jeans (I just don't care about my jeans being anything other than usable so I save my effort and creativity for where I will enjoy it).

Here's the front. I highly doubt anyone will ever see the yellow but I sharpied it black (can also do blue on most shades of blue jeans) and now it stands out less.

One last thing--if, when you look at the front again, you see there are some damaged areas standing proud, sew over those until they have compacted back down and are smooth again. This is important--whatever stands the highest will wear first. So your repairs should be sitting on top, standing higher than the damaged fabric. Otherwise this is all for naught.

Some tips:

A canvas fabric is better. Go for something thick and with some weight to it if you can--immobilizing the repair site will also help some with how long the repair will last.

Similarly colored thread will render this almost invisible. Almost invisible means hard to work on... so make sure your patch is a different color so you're not mending like black thread on black fabric. Save your eyes.

Smaller stitches are better if you have the time/coordination. Large stitches can snag in the wash and also aren't as effective here.

That said, chicken scratch looking garbage will absolutely still make your pants wearable again, as you can see.

If the physical act of moving the needle is going terribly, it's because it's the wrong needle for the job. For jeans, you want a short needle as thin as possible with a small eye. I switched halfway thru this mend because I found a better needle and it was way easier after that.

That's all I got, good luck with your pants ! I usually can double or triple my jeans life this way

[celestialglow24]

••• 3 Months •••

Hi everyone 🤗 I kind of had this idea come to me for a little series and I wanted to test it out. There will be 4 parts. The idea is that it will explore the development of the relationship between Frank and reader over the course of 3 months leading up to 12 months (or 1 year). I can’t promise how quickly I will have each part up—i’m about to go on a trip—but I will do my best! If you’d like to be tagged when the next part comes out don’t hesitate to ask. Hope you enjoy!

FRANK CASTLE x AFAB READER

Part 1

The first 3 months

He remembers the first time he saw you.

It was at a diner he’d never been to before and one he wasn’t really planning to come back to.

His favorite place to stop at was closed that day, something about being short staffed and the manager needing to handle some personal business.

Whatever the reason, it was bullshit. All he wanted was a cup of coffee and to read the fucking paper in peace.

Now he had to disrupt his routine and try some new place he wasn’t even sure about.

Frank didn’t like his routine to be changed.

But then he saw you.

Your warm smile and friendly eyes disintegrated any sour mood Frank was in that morning. It stunned him enough that he hadn’t even heard your first question.

He just stared at you with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“You need a minute?” you asked again sweetly.

“Uh, no sorry. Just coffee. Black.”

The words finally tumbled out of Frank’s mouth and he tried to avoid your eyes, awkwardly placing his hat and paper on the table.

He felt like a goddamned teenager.

“You sure that's all you want? We’ve got the best pancakes in town, they pair perfectly with our freshly made butter and syrup. My personal favorite is the cinnamon chocolate chip. Want me to bring you a stack?”

He looked at your name tag then back up to your eyes. If it had been anyone else he would’ve told them to just bring the coffee and the check. The less interaction he had the better.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do that with you.

“Just the coffee, sweetheart. I’m good.”

“Okay.” you smiled softly and nodded, collecting the menu that was on the table.

Minutes later, Frank was greeted with a warm cup of coffee and a stack of steaming pancakes.

He looked up at you with a confused stare and it made you let out a small laugh.

“I know, I know. You said you didn’t want any but I have a hard time taking no for an answer.” you winked.

Frank didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t all that hungry but he didn’t want to be rude. Though he couldn’t deny they did smell heavenly.

“You don’t have to eat them. I'll just leave ‘em here in case you decide to take a bite. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.” you smiled before walking away.

He took a sip of his coffee, and let out a low hum of approval.

That was a damn good cup of joe.

Torn between his pride and your sweet enthusiasm, Frank didn’t touch the pancakes for a few minutes.

He glanced around the diner, it had started to get busy and he couldn’t take his eyes off the way you moved.

There were several times he’d seen you being pulled in different directions. Whether it was someone from the kitchen, some kid dumping their food on the floor, or a screaming customer demanding to speak to a manager, you never once lost that damn smile.

He wondered how you did it.

When he knew you weren’t looking he picked up a fork and cut himself a piece of the pancake.

His eyes widened a bit in surprise and sure enough, you had been right.

This was the best damn pancake he’d had in a long time. He’d never thought to try cinnamon and chocolate chip pancakes, but now he was wondering how he could ever have them any other way.

By the time you had made your way back to Frank to check in, the whole plate was gone. Frank felt his face heat up a bit in embarrassment, he sure hoped his beard concealed most of it.

“Well, looks like I might’ve made the right call.” you teased.

Frank held out his mug for you as you leaned over to refill it.

“Yeah, yeah you got me.”

You nodded with a knowing smile. “It’s like a comforting memory isn’t it? I don’t know what it is, but it always makes me think of my grandparents. They made the best breakfast.”

Frank had not known how to label the feeling he had when he ate the pancakes himself, but a comforting memory sounded like the right description.

For him it made him think of Saturday mornings with Maria and the kids. The feeling both haunted him and soothed him.

“Yeah, something like that.”

You collected the empty plate and silverware, but before leaving you smiled at him again.

“You’re not from around here are you? I don’t think I've seen you in here before.”

“Eh kinda. I’ve been in town for a bit, just don’t usually hit up this spot.”

“I see.” you hummed. “You a regular at Joey��s?”

“Uhh-” Frank stammered. He didn’t want to offend you and he wasn’t sure if Joey’s diner was competition or not.

“It’s alright if you are.” you laughed, waving him off, “We’ve had several of his customers head this way since he’s closed today. No hard feelings. Though I think I can safely say his pancakes can’t touch ours.”

Frank let out a chuckle and raised his coffee mug, “Yeah I’ll give you that.”

You returned a bright smile and Frank swore he felt his insides warm at the sight.

You offered your name, gesturing to the tag on your shirt before asking for his.

“Uh, Pete.” he replied. “Castiglione.”

He almost gave you the name Frank but something in him hesitated. He didn’t want you to somehow get mixed up in his crazy past. It was better this way.

“Pete.” you said out loud. “I like that.”

Frank felt awkward again. He didn’t know how to respond to compliments. To an outsider it might appear he was rude or grumpy, but in reality he was a kind man.

He just didn’t know how to show it all the time. It took a certain kind of person to bring that side out of him and even then that took time.

In some ways he was like a turtle. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside. One wrong move and he’d either snap your finger off or retreat into his shell.

“Well Pete, don’t be a stranger. Come back anytime.”

Frank nodded in return, taking in your glowing presence one last time before he left.

Looking back now he could see how from that very first day he was a goner.

You’d already set the cracks in his tough exterior and it wouldn’t be long until you bulldozed right through walls he spent so long building up around himself.

Over the next few months Frank returned to your diner. He tried to play it nonchalantly at first. One weekend here, one weekend there.

Until finally he started coming around more regularly.

The two of you had struck up a nice friendship. You’d even gotten him to try more things on the menu. Frank didn’t like trying new things but he was finding you were impossible to say no to.

He’d never admit it out loud, but each time you’d been right. He was starting to think maybe changing things up every now and then wasn’t so bad.

So Frank developed a new routine. One that included coming by to see you and share a stack of pancakes.

He was being drawn to you like a moth to a flame. The pull was strong and he wasn’t sure what any of it meant.

All he knew was that he liked being around you and for the first time in a very long time, Frank wasn’t resistant to the chance of something good happening in his life.

[xiaq]

Steddie outsider POV fic Pt. 4

AO3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Eddie watches Steve leave the hospital room and Will watches Eddie watch Steve leave. 

The longing is familiar. Will thinks—he hopes—that he hides his inadvisable crush a little better. Then again, Will is not currently high as a kite on painkillers recovering from a near-fatal injury. Eddie probably can’t help the way he looks at Steve right now. 

“Are you in love with him?” Will asks. It’s maybe unfair to ask, all things considered. They barely know each other. But if Eddie is like him; if Eddie knows, he’d give anything to find someone to talk to. To see himself in. Especially someone like Eddie.

Eddie closes his eyes.

He doesn’t answer for several seconds. When he does, it's resigned. “Maybe.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Will says, because he’d want to hear it.

Eddie opens his eyes to roll them. “I know, kid. You ain’t too subtle either.” He makes a moue of distaste. “And you have shit taste in men. You could absolutely do better. At least I chose a suitably gorgeous out-of-my-league object of worship. If you’re going to pine after someone unattainable, have the self-respect to pick a really,” he sighs, the roll of words slowing to a crawl, “really impressive specimen.”

“Hey. I do not have—I think you’re hot.”

“You’re just confirming my point,” he says, gesturing to his admittedly pretty battered face. “Shit taste in men.”

Will feels like he should probably tell Eddie not to talk about himself like that, but he’s never been good at stuff like this.

“Steve has been here every day,” Will points out. 

“Because we bonded through trauma and he thinks he owes me for valiantly saving Henderson’s life at the near expense of my own. We all know Dustin is his favorite.”

“I’m just saying. My situation is hopeless. I know that. Yours might not be.”

“Please stop talking, Byers.”

“Sorry. Can I ask about something else?”

“Sure kid.” Eddie sounds exhausted.

“When did you know? That you were—uh.”

“When didn’t I know,” he mutters. “I don’t think I ever had the luxury of not knowing.”

“But you’re so…”

Will gestures at him: the bandana holding back his curls, the rings and the nail polish and the oversized Metallica shirt Steve had cut down the back and added a safety pin fastening to at the top so the nurses still had easy access for bandage changes.

“You’re so cool. Different. Loud. And the guys said you aren’t afraid of anything. That you’ll get in jocks’ faces and make speeches standing on cafeteria tables. How do you do that without being afraid?”

“Being afraid of what?” Eddie asks, “Afraid if I’m noticeable people might notice? That I’m gay?”

He says it so easily. Will has never even said the word out loud. “Yeah.”

Eddie shifts, wincing, as he reaches to scratch his chin. “I was never good at being subtle, is the thing. So I didn't have much of a choice. But in middle school I started getting into fights. Because people suspected. By high school I figured if people were going to stare I’d give them a reason before they could make their own. It was—”

He drops his hand, flexing his fingers, considering the rings on them.

“It was sort of like designing a character. Except the character was myself. The summer before freshman year, my uncle took me to Indy and we hit all the thrift stores. Found me a whole new wardrobe, and he taught me to sew to customize some vests. I figured it’d be easier to BS my way through acting brave if I looked the part.”

“And that worked?”

“It worked,” Eddie agrees quietly, attention still on his hands. “Maybe a little too well.”

“Huh.”

Will touches the slightly jagged line of his hair. He tugs the collar of his shirt and studies the scuffed toes of his sneakers. “If I wanted to do something like that, would you help me?”

“Of course,” Eddie says. “Yeah, of course. Just say when.” 

***

Three months later, Will drives to Eddie’s trailer in his shiny new bribe-from-the-government car and knocks on the door.

There’s a crash, a muffled thump, and then Eddie hissing, “Ow, fuck—no don’t, I’m fine, just stay––I know, but hold on. I think it’s one of the kids.”

“Uh…Eddie?” Will calls. “Are you ok?”

“Fine! Totally fine. One second.”

And then Eddie is wrenching open the door just wide enough that he can poke his head out. His mouth is red. His face is flushed. He’s wearing jeans that are neither buttoned or zipped and it is readily apparent that there’s no underwear underneath them. Will drags his attention back up to Eddie’s face, probably slower than he should, but Eddie is hot, even with––maybe especially with––all his scars. Sue him.

“Hi,” Eddie says, more a panted exhalation than an actual word. “What’s up?”

“Hi.”

Will may have woefully nonexistent sexual experience, but he knows what a hickey looks like. And Eddie has…a lot of them. He has like, an entire necklace of hickies.

Eddie frowns at him, follows the direction of his attention, and then brings up a hand to cover his throat. “Oh, you motherfucker,” he mutters.

“Sorry?”

“No no, not you.”

“I can…come back later,” Will says. “If you’re doing something else.”

He thinks he hears muffled laughter from inside.

Eddie sighs. “It’s fine.” he glances behind him, running a harried hand through his even-wilder-than-normal hair. “My boyfriend is here, but he can wait.”

“Oh. Oh.” Will is sort of dumbfounded that Eddie found someone in Hawkins. Maybe he’s not from Hawkins. Maybe he’s visiting from somewhere else? “That’s great. That’s really great, Eddie. But what about––”

“SO,” Eddie says loudly, before Will can say Steve’s name, “why is it that you’ve graced my humble abode with your presence, Will the Wise?”

“Um,” Will says. “You know that thing we talked about, in the hospital?”

“We talked about numerous and sundry things in the the hospital.”

“About not being afraid anymore. About giving people something to look at.”

Eddie’s expression softens. “I do.”

“I think I’m ready to not be afraid anymore. But I need help.”

“I see. How wild are we getting here, kid?”

“Hair and clothes. And maybe…I was thinking maybe get my ear pierced.”

Eddie whistles. “I’m honored you’ve selected me to accompany you on this journey. Is there anyone else you want to join the party?”

“I was thinking maybe Steve. Except he wasn’t home when I went by earlier. I thought I saw his car parked a few houses down from here, though. He might be at Max’s.”

Eddie presses his palms together like he’s praying, and touches pursed lips to his index fingers. “Give me a minute,” he says. And abruptly disappears behind a slammed door.

There’s frantic whispering, a choked off laugh, and then the door is being pulled open again by—

Steve.

“Holy shit,” Will says.

Steve is also shirtless; his pants are at least buttoned. His chest looks like it’s been clawed by an Eddie-sized cat, though.

Will tries to tell his dick that the situation is mortifying, not sexy. His dick does not agree. 

“So,” Steve clears his throat. “Impromptu trip to Indy?”

“We’ve both got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, “but Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees.

He can’t stop staring at Steve’s arm, curled proprietarily around Eddie’s waist; at Eddie’s hand resting on Steve’s wrist, like he’s not even conscious of its placement. Will wants that. He wants it so bad it winds him.

“Hey. Don’t make that face,” Eddie says, like he knows exactly what Will is thinking. He probably does. “You’re sixteen. You’ve got time. Hardly anyone ends up with their highschool crush. I’m an outlier.”

“And no offense dude, but Mike?” Steve says, “You could totally do better.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Hold on,” Steve backtracks, turning to look at Eddie. “I was your teenage crush?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “What? No.”

“That’s literally what you just said.”

“We really need to get you back to that concussion doctor,” Eddie says, “because clearly you’re hearing things, and auditory hallucinations are very concerning.”

“Hey,” Will interrupts. 

Those both turn back to look at him.

“I’m driving,” he says, trying to sound firm. “I’ll pick you both up here at 9am on Saturday.”

“You’re assuming I’ll already be here?” Steve asks.

“Won’t you?” Will argues.

“I like this assertiveness, Byers,” Eddie says approvingly. “A+ start. But maybe you pick us up at ten.”

“Nine,” he repeats. “See you then.”

He nods decisively and turns to walk back through the yard.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters behind him. “These kids are going to kill me.”

“Shut up, you love them,” Eddie says, and then, louder, “Hey Byers, keep this to yourself, will you? At least for now.”

Will holds out his hand, thumb up.

When he gets back in the car, Will puts in a Dio tape and cranks up the volume. He grins all the way home.

***

Will arrives at the final Hellfire club meeting of the summer wearing a cropped Black Sabbath shirt, ripped jeans that rival Eddie’s, and shitkicker boots that were well worth the eye-watering amount of money he paid for them. His hair is fresh-shaved on the sides and slicked back on top. The guys are mostly used to his new look by now but Max and El both give him appreciative once-overs that are gratifying. 

“Bitchin,” El says approvingly.

Will’s attention doesn’t linger on Mike. Doesn’t look for his specific reaction. It hurts less to look at him, now; gets easier every day to see him and El and not feel like their affection is engineered to hurt him. It helps that he’s gone back to Indy twice since he went with Steve and Eddie. He’s still too baby-faced to get into the bars, but he can wander through the record stores and thrift shops in the neighborhood. Sit in a cafe where no one knows him or his name. Flirt, carefully, while bumming a cigarette from a cute guy with a bandana in his pocket. The world is so much bigger than Hawkins. And he’s going to see it one day.

However, he’s still stuck there for two more years, and he plans to make the best of his time. Exhibit A:   Today is both the end of Eddie’s final campaign, and the day in which Eddie selects his successor as dungeon master.

Will thinks, maybe, it might be him. He wants it to be him.

Except when he gets to the basement, there’s no sign of Eddie. And Eddie is never late.

“Has anyone talked to him today?” Dustin asks. He’s pacing.

No one has.

“Have you tried calling him?” Will asks.

“Yeah.”

“Have you tried calling Steve?”

“Why would I call Steve?”

“Maybe just try? They’ve been hanging out a lot recently.”

Max meets his eyes and Will gets the distinct feeling she knows.

Dustin stomps up the stairs, then back down again a minute later.

“No one picked up at Steve’s house either.”

“Robin?” El suggests.

Dustin groans and heads back upstairs.

“No,” he yells down. “Any other suggestions?”

“Family Video,” Lucas shouts. 

“Or the garage!” Mike says.

Dustin has a muffled conversation first with someone who is clearly neither Steve nor Robin at Family Video, and then a longer conversation with someone else at the garage. It’s full of stops and starts and anxious-sounding questions.

“Guys,” Dustin says, coming back down the stairs. “I think Eddie and Steve might be in trouble.”

“I’ll drive,” Will says. 

They’re piled in the car and tearing off toward the garage in a matter of minutes.

“Tell me again what he said,” Max demands.

“Jason Carver and some of the guys came in to drop off a car and they were harassing Eddie last week. Since then, they’d been waiting in the parking lot across the street sometimes when Eddie got off work. So Steve has been picking him up.”

“Okay but what about today?”

“He didn’t know!” Dustin’s voice cracks in Will’s ear where he’s leaned forward over the center console from the back seat. “He said that Eddie came in to work a few hours in the morning and Steve picked him up. That Jason and his friends may have followed them but he wasn’t certain.”

“What time?”

“Over an hour ago.”

“Shit.”

“Where would they go? If they’re not at their houses?”

“The quarry,” Will says. “Or skull rock.”

“Why would they go there?” Dustin shrieks.

Will meets Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

He abruptly changes course.

Quarry first.

His stomach goes sour when they round the corner. Because there are two vehicles at the quarry. One is Steve’s BMW.  There’s a rucked quilt on the hood and one glass coke bottle tangled in it, tipped on its side, staining the floral fabric. A second bottle is on the ground, shattered by the front tire. Steve’s keys are laying in the gravel next to the broken glass.

 The second vehicle, parked at a haphazard angle beside it, is Jason Carver’s truck. All four doors are open. The engine is still running. The radio is still on. But there are no people to be seen.

“Oh no,” Dustin says. “Oh no, no, no. This is not good.”

“Shit,” Lucas says, “shit, ok. So they probably ran for the woods, right? Do we have any weapons?”

“Lucas,” El says.

“Ok, obviously you. But we’re going to have to split up to search for them and the rest of us can’t exactly defend ourselves with our minds.”

Will pops the trunk.

And gets out the bat.

He’d felt kind of ridiculous when he’d made it, carefully hammering nails into the wood until it looked like Steve’s. He hadn’t even practiced with it or anything before he’d put it in the trunk with the first aid kit and the jumper cables and the tire iron: all things he’d hoped he’d never have occasion to use. He’s grateful for it now as he swings it experimentally.

“Dude,” Lucas says.

“Nice,” Max says. She takes the tire iron.

“Let’s go,” Will says.

***

It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that Will is the one who finds them.

It feels right, all things considered. Less Deus Ex Machina and more destiny. 

Eddie is on the ground and Steve is standing over him, arms out, like he can protect him from Jason––Jason who is pointing a gun at Steve's chest, while his three goons are circled around them, watching. 

A gun. God, it’s almost insulting. The very idea that a gun might be the thing to end one of their lives.

Steve’s voice is low and frantic.

And Will is angry.

He knows he should be scared. Maybe he is. But he’s faced far worse that Jason fucking Carver. And when he looks at Jason he sees Lucas’ battered face and Max’s casts. He sees every bully with straight teeth and a letterman jacket that ever shoved him in a hallway.

The hand not holding the bat curls into a fist.

“Hey,” he shouts, and stalks forward.

“Stop right there,” Carver says, swinging around wildly to take aim at him.

“Or what?” 

“Do you not see the gun in my hands?”

“Yeah, you see the bat in mine?”

He keeps walking.

“You think I’m joking?” Carver’s arm is shaking.

“You think shooting me will work?” Will shouts back, heart loud in his ears, but voice shockingly cavalier, “I came back from the dead once, maybe I’ll do it again.”

He keeps walking.

“What the fuck,” one of the guys says, “is that Beyers?”

“Jason,” another one says, “Jason, come on, this isn’t what we talked about. Harrington and now the Beyers kid? You can’t––”

“Shut up,” Carver yells.

Will keeps walking.

He brings his free hand to his mouth and whistles. Loud. Piercing. Something the party had practiced until they all could do it three summers before.

He immediately gets three whistles back.

“Over here!” he shouts. He stops walking just within range of Carver. 

He plants his feet. He taps the bat against the side of one boot.

“You’re about to be outnumbered,” he says.

“Fuck man,” one of the guys says. “I’m out.” And with the sudden departure of one, the rest follow. Including, after a moment, Jason himself. He starts with a few steps backward, then his arm drops to his side and he scrambles into a run.

Steve watches them until they’re out of sight, and then he’s collapsing like a puppet whose strings have been cut, reaching for Eddie as Eddie reaches for him, colliding in a tangle of desperate hands.

“Are you okay?” they demand of each other, and then, after a moment of frantic reassurances, they turn to face Will.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve says, eyes on the bat. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Gee, can’t imagine where he learned it from,” Eddie mutters, spitting blood as they struggle to their feet. Steve doesn’t look to be in much better shape than Eddie but at least his face is mostly unscathed.

“Oh, don’t even try to pin this on me.” Steve wraps one arm around Eddie’s waist to keep him upright and throws out the other to gesture half-heartedly at Will. “Look at him.”

“Well sure, but I don’t go around with a fucking nail-bat in my trunk and I sure as hell don’t provoke people when I’m up against stupid odds unlike some dipshits who have no appreciation for their own mortality.”

“The safety was on,” Will points out. He whistles again. Three whistles back again, this time accompanied by shouting. 

“What?” Eddie says.

“Jason,” Will says. “The gun he was holding. The safety was on. I definitely could have hit him before he could have shot me.”

Eddie lets out a hysterical little laugh. 

He trips on something and nearly takes Steve down with him.

“Whoa, hey.” Steve hoists him back up as Max and Lucas come stumbling through the undergrowth. 

“Oh shit,” Lucas says, “guys, are you ok?”

“Peachy keen,” Eddie warbles.

Steve uses his shirt to wipe blood off Eddie’s upper lip. Will thinks his nose might be broken. 

“Hey, look at me,” Steve says. “How’s your head?”

“Fucked,” Eddie groans. “Probably still better than yours, though, sweetheart. Should change your name to King of Brain Damage.” He blinks blearily at Steve, smiling through pink-stained teeth. “ Or maybe King of pretty eyes.”

“Stop trying to flirt when you’re concussed.”

Dustin crashes into the clearing next, throwing himself at Steve and Eddie and nearly dumping them back onto the ground with his exuberance. 

And then El and Mike are there and Will is handing his bat to Lucas and pulling Eddie’s other arm over his shoulder, nodding to Steve as they move forward.

“Hospital?” He asks.

“No,” Eddie whines between them.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “And we gotta call Hopper to come get pictures and take our statements.”

“Hopper is gonna kill us,” Mike sighs.

“Nah,” Steve says. “But Joyce might kill Jason for pointing a gun at Will.”

“...do we have to tell them that part?” Will asks. 

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Steve says.

Will sighs. 

It’s going to be a long night.

Ten minutes later, they stumble out of the trees and make their way down the quarry rim to the cars. Carver’s truck is gone.

“Will,” Steve says, “you mind driving us?”

Will glances across Eddie’s ducked head to meet Steve’s eyes. “Sure.”

“You’re going to let someone else drive the BMW?” Dustin says incredulously. “You never let anyone else drive the BMW.”

“Special circumstances,” Steve says. “Hey, Sinclair. You got your permit, right?”

Lucas looks like this might be the best day of his life.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Passed with flying colors.”

“Be still my heart,” Eddie croons, “for King Steve cannot bear to be separated from his humble bard.”

“Bard, sure,” Steve mutters, “humble, not so much.”

“You wound me, sire. And on my deathbed too?”

“You’re not dying,” Steve argues, aggrieved. “Hold on.” He opens the back car door and Will helps Steve slide Eddie inside.

“I can sit with him,” Dustin says. “If you still want to drive, I mean.”

“No,” Steve says. “It’s fine.”

“We cannot be parted!” Eddie shouts from inside, “For Lo! Young we are and yet have stood like planted hearts in the great Sun of Love so long (as two fair trees in woodland or in open dale stand utterly entwined and breathe the airs and suck the very light together) that we have become as one, deep rooted in the soil of Life and tangled in the sweet growth!”

“Is that…” Dustin bends, hands on his knees, to frown at Eddie. “Why are you quoting Tolkien’s wedding vows?”

“Boys are so stupid,” Max says. “No offense, Will.”

“None taken,” Will murmurs.

“No offense Will?”” Lucas repeats.

Steve exhales loudly, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he’s smiling. He crawls into the back seat, pulling Eddie’s head into his lap. He runs his fingers, gentle, through the mess of Eddie’s hair. He smooths his thumb against the quickly swelling curve of his cheekbone.

“Wait,” Lucas says. “Wait, wait, wait. Are they––”

“Uh,” Mike says.

“So stupid,” Max repeats, stooping to pick up Steve’s key’s from the ground. She tosses them to Lucas. “Come on, let’s go. We can deal with your complete inability to see what’s right in front of your faces at the hospital.”

Will agrees. Dustin slides into the passenger seat of Will’s car, still spluttering, as Will is buckling his seatbelt. He starts the engine.

He glances in the rearview mirror just in time to see Steve duck to press his lips to the mangled bridge of Eddie’s nose; to see Eddie’s grin in response.

“Wedding vows, huh,” Steve murmurs.

“I’m concussed,” Eddie says primly, “I’m out of my mind.”

“On that we’re agreed,” Steve says, but he’s looking down at him with such fondness it makes Will feel like a voyeur.

He suppresses a smile of his own and puts the car in drive, turning up the radio over Dustin’s demands for details. 

If he wasn’t before, Will is definitely going to be Eddie’s choice for dungeon master, now. Did Dustin save Eddie’s life by threatening Jason Carver with a nail bat while Jason Carver was pointing a gun at his face? No. No he did not. 

Will did.

Pt. 5 (Tommy Hagan)

[jenniferjareauwife]

r is a new recruit at the bau and is also jj’s ex. the two are super awkward and tense around each other until forced to share a room due to limited room, where feelings are finally confessed

I Still Love You

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 884

summary: you join the bau and realize that your ex that you're still not over also works there

I walked through the doors of the BAU with a nervous smile on my face. It was my first day and I wanted to make a good impression. I was supposed to be taking over the media liaison job for someone so now I just had to go and figure out who that was. I looked around until I saw a friendly looking blonde woman. "Hey! I'm uh, I'm new here, I'm the new media liaison I was wondering if you could point me to where I'm supposed to go."

"Of course!" She said enthusiastically. "I'm Penelope Garcia by the way, most people just call me Garcia."

"I'm y/n y/l/n." I reached out to shake her hand but she just pulled me into a hug. Oh. So that's how they do things around here, maybe I didn't have to be nervous.

"JJ is waiting for you in there to train you a bit." My heart stopped. JJ? I looked inside the office and there she was. Jennifer Jareau. I couldn't speak.

"Is something wrong?" JJ asked with a bit of attitude once Garcia left.

"No I uh, I just didn't realize that you worked here is all." I put down my small box of things on the desk and tried to avoid her gaze.

"Yeah well I do. So get used to seeing me." I gave her a small nod and started unpacking my things. "You still wear the ring?" She asked quietly after a few moments. I looked down at my left hand and saw that I was wearing the promise ring she had gotten me six months ago when we were still happy and together.

"Yeah I...I do." I wasn't going to take it off in front of her, I didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"Oh." That was the only thing she said before she actually started showing me how the job worked.

Three weeks had passed and it was awkward. It honestly just hurt. Someone I used to know so well is now basically a stranger and I want to know her again. I still loved her. She was a profiler now there's no way she didn't know it.

I took a deep breath and dried my tears off in the bathroom. It had been 4 months, she had moved on, and I was going to have to live with being in love with her and seeing her not even give a shit about me. I let out a choked sob and covered my mouth, my heart stopping when I heard the door open.

"Hey." It was JJ, I could recognize that voice anywhere. "What's wrong?" She sounded sincere for the first time in three weeks.

"It's nothing." I wiped the fresh tears away and leaned against the sink.

"It's obviously something. Why are you crying?" She came up next to me and leaned close to me, trying to get me to look at her.

"It's just the case." I lied.

"Oh come on. That's just insulting. I was in a relationship with you for a year and I'm a profiler. You really think I can't see through you?"

"Why do you even care?" My voice sounded weak as I turned to look at her, my tear stained face making her eyes soften even more. "I've been working here for three weeks and you couldn't care less about me. You've never shown any interest in talking to me and now you do? I'm sorry Jayje but I don't buy it." I winced as the nickname slipped past my lips.

"You think I don't care about you?" Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear it. I turned back to my hands and looked down. "Hey, look at me." She asked softly. "You really think I don't care about you?"

"I don't understand why you would."

"I still love you." There was no hesitation in her words. "I've always loved you. I've loved you since I've met you."

"Then why'd you go? Why'd you leave me JJ." She stayed quiet. "I need an answer JJ."

"I...I got scared." I could tell she was telling the truth by the way her voice wavered. "I love you so much and my job is so dangerous and I thought they would hurt you-" I cut her off with a kiss.

"I love you." My lips quivered as I held back tears. "I love you so much." She wiped away my tears and pulled me in for a tight hug. "I missed you so much." I sobbed into her neck so she brought one hand up to cradle the back of my head.

"I missed you too baby I missed you so much." She kissed the top of my head. "But it's ok, I'm here now, I'm here." She kissed my temple over and over again until I stopped crying.

"You're never going to leave me again. Ever." I looked up at her with stern but tearful eyes. She kissed my forehead and nodded, hugging me even closer.

"I won't leave you again. I promise."

[m1dnyt3-w0lf]

Chapter 5: In A Month's Time

2,638

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

After the near mugging, I followed Miguel's rule to be accompanied by someone when I went out. Either by him or by Jess. It was usually Jess since she was taking me to different stores to apply to. I hadn't heard back from anyone after three days of applying. I was a bit bummed out, but it was expected that I would not get a job immediately. I still had the rest of the month to get a job, though. No sweat.

“Maybe you're not looking in the right places.” Jess offered after a bite of french fry. “Maybe try an office job.”

“I like being on my feet, and this may be the only social interaction I'll be getting. The last thing I want is to be sitting for hours staring at a computer screen when I'm already going to be doing that for my classes.” I told her.

“Fair point.” She agreed. She didn't let me pay for the meal.

I haven't spent a single dime since I've been here. Neither her nor Miguel would allow me to pay for anything. I was sure it was some kind of motherly thing for Jess. Miguel, however, I had no clue why he wouldn't let me pay for anything. He insisted he'd buy whenever we ate out, which was basically every dinner we shared. I had enough after the fourth day he paid.

“Miguel, I have money. Let me pay for it this time!” I crossed my arms.

“Save your money for school. That's more important.” He simply said as he handed the waiter the booklet that held the bill and his card. I huffed at that.

“That's why I’m getting a job. So I could pay for both necessities and fun stuff like this! And rent!” But he wasn't having any of my reasons, so he continued to pay for everything. It was mildly infuriating.

It wasn’t the only infuriating thing Miguel did. He seemed adamant that we shared at least one meal together. If it wasn’t breakfast, it’d be dinner. Never lunch since I was out job hunting, and he was…working. I think.

“What do you do at work?” I asked him over breakfast.

“Well,” he started slowly. “I engineer stuff.”

“What do you engineer?” I felt the space grow awkward.

“Biological stuff.” I frowned at his answer. He was being so vague, like he was hiding something.

“What kind of biological stuff?”

“Ah, that I can’t tell you. Top secret research, company contracts, that whole ordeal.” He sounded more confident than before. I pouted a bit at his answer.

“Aw, come on, not even a tiny bit?”

“Wish I could.” His weird watch lit up at that moment. He was quick to look at it, a deep scowl appearing on his face as he glared at his screen. “I have to get going. I’ll have Jess pick you up some dinner before dropping you off.” Then he was gone.

Many of my interactions were like this with Miguel. Conversations cut short, meals rushed, even being caught at midnight trying to eat shredded cheese just because he came home right then. I had no idea what being a bioengineer was like, but this didn’t seem right. He disappeared often outside his work hours. Honestly, it worried me to see him so overworked. I worried that paying for me forced him to need to make extra money. It made me more determined to find a job.

By the time the second week started, I had no calls, no acceptances, nothing. I was starting to get worried. I know things like this took time, but I was never good at being patient. I started finding myself pacing my room and willing an email or call to ring my phone. Obviously, that never happened.

A distraction had come in the form of a man. He was a little over average height with a long face, brown hair, and a bright pink robe. He had a child with him, a little girl with unruly, red hair and big blue eyes. The man had barged in and made himself at home.

“Is Miguel home?” He had asked. How many parents did Miguel know?

“Uh, no, he left for work about an hour ago. I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked. The man had his full attention on the child, so I wasn't sure if he had heard me. Right when I was about to repeat my question, he spoke.

“Aw, bummer! He always likes seeing Mayday, isn't that right?” He made kissy faces to her and made her giggle. “I’m Peter, by the way!”

“Okay…where’s Jess?” I asked him. He already established he knew Miguel, so he was good company.

“Jess is at a…baby appointment. Yeah, that's the thing.”

“Right.” I give a slow nod. Well, whenever you're ready, we can—”

“Oh, you wanna see some pictures of Mayday?!” Peter exclaimed, interrupting me.

“Well—”

“Ah, of course you do! Everyone does!” He interrupted again. Safe to say, I did not get to submit any applications that day.

He was very lively for a man who seemed to be in his late twenties, early thirties. He hovered over Mayday a lot and seemed so extremely aware of her all the time, even when he wasn’t looking at her. He moved with cat-like reflexes. No, he moved much faster. He was practically a blur. He moved almost as fast as his mouth did. He didn’t shut up the entire time he was over. Everything out of his mouth was either about Mayday or a joke. I wasn’t sure which I preferred to hear from him. He rambled so much that he was still talking my ear off when Miguel came home. He looked at my bored-out-of-my-mind expression and immediately kicked Peter out of the apartment, which still took another hour since Peter insisted Miguel should look at pictures of Mayday. Miguel had apologized with dinner, a fancier place than usual. For once, I didn’t complain. It wasn’t my only win of the night. I did, at least, convince Peter not to let me hold Mayday.

Around mid-week, my things started showing up in the mail. Three boxes had been delivered, none containing my clothes. I was a bit worried as the weather had started to cool sooner than I expected it to. With Jess's bike being my only form of transportation, I had to ask Miguel for a jacket.

“You don't have one?” He asked me past a bite of chow-mein.

“I have one, but it's too thin. I'd be a shivering puppy on Jess’s bike.” I told him. “I have jackets on the way, so I don't wanna buy another one. If I could just borrow one of yours, I'd be super grateful.”

Miguel had studied me for a few moments. I put on my best puppy dog eyes that would even convince my mother. He let out a defeated sigh.

“Fine, I'll see what I have.”

What he had was a dad sweater. The ones that zipped up to your chin and were nothing but fuzzy cloth. It kept me warm alright, but it also swallowed me. The dang thing went down to my thighs, and the sleeves were about two inches past my hands. I had to start wearing my belt over the jacket just to keep it in place. I had to roll the sleeves up at least three times just to have my hands peek through the holes. I had never felt smaller than I did when wearing his jacket. Jess tried, and failed, to hold back her laugh when she saw me. But it was all I had to work with until my box of clothes arrived. I checked with the front desk every single day for that box but came up empty every single time. No matter, I was sure the box would turn up eventually.

The third week finally rolled around, and I had nothing ready. I had no job, no furniture, and no clothes. The post office somehow lost my box of clothes. That was another two weeks' worth of clothes! I made calls and emails but came up empty. I didn't dare bring it up to Jess or Miguel. I didn't want them to worry about me. I could fix this. I just needed to buy more clothes…at some point. For now, I was stuck with my measly one week's worth and Miguel's jacket. I was glad I only packed pants.

Troubles aside, my first rent payment was due soon. I had money to cover it with no problem, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about next month’s rent or my school supplies now that I needed to buy new clothes. My funds would be taking a harsh hit if the prices I’ve seen so far were anything to go by. It worried me. A lot of things worried me. My worries began to build up in me and turn into anxiety. I wasn't getting sleep. I stayed up late and, in turn, got up late. I found myself bouncing my leg more often than not. I was getting distracted and lost in my thoughts during conversations. Jess had basically given up holding a conversation. Miguel, however, kept trying. He even went as far as—

SNAP, SNAP, SNAP

“Wha-?” I blinked back into the present and focused on Miguel’s snapping fingers.

“Are you listening?” He looked annoyed.

“Of course!” I lied stupidly. He didn't look convinced.

“What did I just say?”

“Okay, fine, I wasn't listening.” I huffed, giving in immediately. “What did you say?”

His eyes studied me for a few moments. The silence stretched a bit longer than what was comfortable. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a strangely concerned tone. I was actually surprised.

“What? Of course I am. Why?”

“You're constantly spaced out, your shoulders are tense, you’re constantly bouncing that damn leg, and I’m sure your eyebrows need a divorce with how long they’ve been drawn together.” He stated. I was shocked with how attentive he was to my current behavior. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or genuinely concerned about it. He sounded like a cross between the two. “You’re anything but okay. What’s going on? Is someone bothering you?”

“No one’s bothering me! I don’t even know anyone here.” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was this giant of a man becoming my guard dog. A hot guard dog, but still the last thing I needed.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“‘Nothing’ doesn’t force people into your state. It’s something.” It wasn’t even a question. It was a statement.

“I can figure it out. Don’t worry about it!” I argued.

“All you’re doing is worrying about it! You’ll worry yourself sick, let me help you!”

“I can do this on my own!”

“You obviously can’t if you’re this stressed about it!”

“I’m an adult, Miguel, of course I can!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Our voices had risen by now, our argument getting heated. Miguel’s hands had balled into fists, my own had started waving around animatedly.

“It means everything!” I shouted, slamming my fists on the table. The bang echoed louder than my voice in the small kitchen and silenced us both.The sting of the impact tingled the entire bottom of my fist. I glared at Miguel as if my stare could melt his skin off. His glare, on the other hand, disappeared. Something kin to realization crossed his face. His eyebrows had a different crease in them. He looked softer.

The silence stretched between us. It cloaked us and choked the air out of our surrounding space. In the silence, I calmed. The sting became a bit sharper. My heavy breathing now stuttered. My lip wobbled. The first tear fell from my right eye. Then another from my left. A sob barely left my lips when Miguel’s chair scraped the floor, and his arms were around me, pulling me into a hug. There was no room to push him away or to feel embarrassed. I don’t think I could’ve if I tried with how tightly he held me. I cried, no, wailed, into his chest and clung onto his shirt for dear life.

It was almost comical how, despite the obvious anguish I was exuding, I couldn’t help my wandering mind. I could feel every muscle of his body pressed against mine. Rock hard compared to my soft plush. He was also warm. His hold was comforting and enveloped me entirely. He was so gentle. I felt like a kitten in his arms. Something precious. It was an intoxicating feeling I wasn’t sure I was ready to indulge in. But, for now, it felt right. I found myself relaxing into his hold and calming down until I was only sniffling. I felt sticky and gross, yet Miguel continued to hold me.

Then, I heard it.

“Todo está bien.” I heard him mutter. My brain halted. Was he speaking to me? It was so quiet that I had completely missed it.

“Te tengo, chiquita.” He continued, rubbing his hand on my back.

Chiquita. It sounded so good coming from him. I listened to his reassuring words and let out a slow breath. I closed my eyes and leaned more into his chest. I heard his heart thump against my ear.

Thump-thump, th-thump-thump, thump-thump

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He rumbled. The bass in his voice rumbled through his chest and into my body.

“I yelled at you. I’m sorry about that.” I said. “I’m…I’m in a bit of trouble.

Th-thump-thump, thump-thump, th-thump-thump

His hand found its way under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him. I was already missing the security of his chest.

“What trouble?” He asked with knit eyebrows. He’s only known me for a month, and he looked absolutely wrecked with worry. It made my heart flutter to see someone who wasn’t family care so much about me.

“Well,” I started with a huff of breath. “For starters, the post office lost my clothes.”

“We can get you more tomorrow.” He said immediately. I was a bit taken aback by his quick response but continued.

“I don’t have furniture.”

“I’ll get some for you. I didn’t mean to leave the room so empty, honestly, but I wanted you to decorate your room however you wanted.”

“I have to worry about rent.”

“Worry about school, let me worry about the rent.” He said with a caress of his thumb. I didn’t like the idea of him buying my furniture and paying both halves of the rent. That was so much money.

“I don’t have enough money for school supplies.”

“I can help out.” He replied. Now he was offering to help with my school supplies? How much was I going to owe him?

“I don’t have a job.”

Miguel’s eyes looked into mine, silent after my final words. He looked calculated. There was a funny crinkle in the corner of his eyes. His eyebrows finally eased, and instead, one of them raised. He tilted his head a bit as if to size me up. His gears were turning, and I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy what he was going to say next.

“I have an offer.” He said. Dangerous words.

“What kind of offer?” I asked slowly, finally pulling away from his arms. I no longer felt safe in them if this talk was going down the road I thought it was going down. He let me move but held onto my arms, rubbing his thumbs lightly against them. He dropped the bombshell.

“Let me pay for everything.”

Translations

Ch 6

Tags: @crocs-blogs @madschiavelique @arithestrawberry @eveandtheturtles @obi-mom-kenobi @thelaundrybitch @symmetricalkazekage @raphsmuneca @tojishugetiddies @kazunewolfwood-blog

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 17, 2021 4:00 a.m. paradise hotel

three hours later

[grant] you know, i didn’t get a good start to dealing with the whole “my body is broken” thing.

[henry] huh? oh, sorry, i'm awake and heard you; i was just surprised.

[grant] the first time that, um, i got really sick after my sister died, everyone just thought i was mcfucking mentally losing it. i mean, i was, but also i could not get out of bed, could not walk, couldn’t hold a toothbrush even because my hands wouldn’t move…

[grant] and my parents, who are medical professionals, wouldn’t take me to any doctor because they thought i was melodramatic.

[henry] you missed two months of school. we went different schools but i remember that. i didn’t see you for that two months either.

[grant] they only ever took me because they got tired of dealing with me, and they were getting in trouble for me being truant. and what do you know? like every other kid with something wrong, the answer was growing pains. you're tall for your age, so that's it!

[henry] doctors are stupid sometimes.

[grant] tell me about it. i lived with two idiot doctors for eighteen years. the proof is in the pudding.

[grant] and then, uhh, there’s the whole…

[grant] the whole college thing.

[grant] did i ever tell you how i became an addict, bud?

[henry] you’ve never wanted to.

[henry] i assumed it was because people try to numb childhood trauma. and i could tell something was not right with the college hockey team situation, but i didn’t know what or if that was connected at all.

[henry] it could have come from anywhere. most everyone in college does drugs. i smoked a lot of weed.

[grant] it’s both of your assumptions. there were a lot of things i needed to suppress, and i didn’t know how to control myself after tasting the slightest bit of freedom from my parents. but also…

[grant] the dudes on the hockey team hated me except sebastian. i just didn’t click. i wasn’t the right kind of person to fit in that very dudebro jock locker room.

[grant] so, on one hand, i started on a bunch of party drugs and alcohol because i figured out that when i got fucked up out of my mind, they finally found me funny, and you know how i am.

[henry] you are really desperate for people to like you and for you to not feel like you're imposing.

[grant] it’s totally true. i need to be liked. and need is the right word. it’s not as bad now, i've grown out of it a bit, but still, the feeling is there. i need to be liked and to not be anyone's burden.

[grant] yet that’s not the whole story.

[grant] i was, um, well, also illegally prescribed a lot of painkillers.

[grant] by the team's medical people.

[grant] my health issues were already there, but playing a contact sport made it worse. i'm gonna be honest, i don’t remember what happened, but i got some kind of back injury, and i went right back to that state i was in after my sister died.

[grant] seriously, same stuff. couldn’t really get out of bed, couldn’t function. at least not without...

[henry] oh god. i don’t like the way this sounds.

[grant] i was naive enough to hope that people might do the right thing for me once in my life, so i told the medical staff, like, hey, i'm suffering, and i need help. and they just kind of, uh, waved me off and said their job was to patch me up so i could be on the ice, not fix me.

[grant] i was already trouble in all the staff's eyes because i was the odd one out in the locker room, and that's not looked upon well. so, in hindsight, i should have seen literally all the red flags or should have been brave enough to just break down and see a real doctor elsewhere again, but i didn’t.

[grant] anyway, the team staff offered me opioids and i gladly took them. and they kind of sort of barely worked. so i took more. and more and more, and i mixed them with all kinds of other substances. like, i should probably be dead from the amount of mixing i did or from just the sheer volume of drugs i took. also, no one gave a fuck how many times a week i came in to ask for drugs as long as i played hockey good enough.

[henry] and you were good.

[grant] still, the pills never genuinely made me feel better. they just got me high enough to forget about suffering. that makes sense now because i have a diagnosis and have heard nothing but anti-inflammatories are going to really work on resolving the whole pain thing. too late for that, though. i'm an addict. yes, am, not was, even if i'm sober. so, i won't touch them now. i haven't in years.

[grant] but there you go! there’s the story.

[grant] that feels supremely embarrassing to have told, but i wanted to get it off my chest. you are my best friend. more than that. you're family. you're my brother. i don’t have to be afraid to tell you anything and you deserve to know the truth.

[grant] especially because you've never shied away from honesty and you stuck with me that whole time. i don’t think most addicts are lucky enough to have friends and family that patient. and i tried many, many times to push everyone away so i could destroy myself in peace. i wouldn’t blame any of you if you had given up on me.

[grant] yeah. it's not very kind of me to receive that much, um, grace and love and forgiveness, and not at least reward and thank you with the truth. the full and honest truth, even if you didn't ask for it. oh, and a window into why i am the way i am, why i keep my mouth shut.

[ysmtttty]

Again

Chapter 4 Read on AO3 or below || Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Lawyer AU where Eris and Nesta used to be rivals before she got married and decided to leave the field. But now she is divorced and determined to return to the legal field, even if it means working with Eris, not against him.

a/n: I am very very sorry I'm taking this long with chapters. I was sick all October, then had my deadlines, then sick again. Not cool. But I fought my flu to finish it today so yes, tried my best here:) So thank you for waiting and staying<3

“What do you mean you went home?” Emerie asked in disappointment, listening as Nesta recounted the events of last Friday.

They were sitting on the couch in her apartment, drinking wine while her daughters fought over the new toys Gwyn had brought. Astrid was desperately trying to reclaim what had originally been given to her, while Callista simply wanted everything her older sister had. Nesta watched them, but nothing threatened their lives except themselves—Callista kept biting, and Astrid, due to her age, was simply physically stronger.

“What was I supposed to do?” Nesta asked sullenly, taking a sip of her wine.

Both Emerie and Gwyn looked at her as if she’d asked the dumbest question possible. While Gwyn tactfully kept silent, simply giving her a look, Emerie wasn’t holding back.

“Eris Vanserra, your rich, arrogant, and objectively hot boss, whom you kissed,” she said, emphasizing every word unnecessarily. “Nes, this is straight out of half the romance novels we buy for our Kindles. You know what you should have done.”

Nesta grimaced and snorted. “I'm not going to compromise my professionalism any further than I already have. Besides, I don’t need a relationship, especially after just finalizing my divorce.”

“No one’s talking about a relationship, but se—”

“Emerie means you need to unwind,” Gwyn interrupted before Emerie could say something entirely inappropriate for a room where children were present. Not that it mattered much, as both Callista and Astrid were distracted by the cartoon playing on the TV and their ongoing quarrel. “Your divorce from Cassian took so much time and energy, and even during your marriage, things were... uh... far from smooth. Maybe you should consider—”

“Sleeping with my boss, whom I couldn’t stand for nearly a decade of my life?” Nesta raised an eyebrow.

Both her friends shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Nesta just rolled her eyes, taking another sip of wine. She and Eris? Never. Not even after twenty-four hours of being unable to focus on anything without recalling how they’d kissed in his office.

His hands on her waist, her hands in his hair, the feel of his lips on hers… Nesta wanted to smack herself for how much significance she was giving it. She was a grown woman, for god’s sake, with two kids and a jerk of an ex-husband. The last thing she needed was an affair with someone from her past. Even if that someone had been surprisingly good company for the past few months.

Even if she had genuinely enjoyed his company.

In any case, Nesta reminded herself, Eris was her boss. No matter how much she hated the fact, it was still true—Eris was her boss, and there was absolutely no way she could date him. Period.

“Even if not him, then at least someone,” Emerie huffed, clearly disappointed that Nesta wouldn’t sleep with Eris when it could have been ripped straight from the pages of the books they’d traded back in grad school. “Seriously, how many months has it been since the last time you had anything at all?”

Nesta rolled her eyes again, her cheeks flushing slightly with the embarrassment of knowing the answer. A long time. A very long time ago.

“We need to go out somewhere,” Emerie declared. “And find you a suitable companion for—”

Both Gwyn and Nesta shot her a look, making her pause. To her credit, Emerie didn’t falter much and quickly rephrased.

“For a good time,” she finished.

Nesta merely snorted.

“Mama!” both her daughters cried out simultaneously, their voices plaintive and whining. Nesta turned to see Callista biting down on a doll that Astrid was clutching, trying desperately to snatch it away.

“Next time, I’ll know to buy identical dolls,” Gwyn muttered, watching as Nesta stepped in to separate her daughters. Luckily, Astrid was old enough to be reasoned with.

Astrid distracted herself by climbing onto Gwyn’s lap, where Gwyn stealthily handed her another piece of candy while Nesta wasn’t looking. The delighted girl sat contentedly munching her chocolate as Nesta explained to Callista why biting her sister and grabbing toys wasn’t acceptable, no matter how badly she wanted them.

“I need to close the case first,” Nesta said, returning to the couch with Callista, who refused to leave her side. Emerie fondly ruffled the little girl’s hair as she stared at the coffee table, clearly plotting what she could grab. Nesta handed her a few grapes.

“Work, work, work,” Emerie mimicked with exaggerated boredom. “Do you really want to go back to that?”

“It’s still better than diapers, diapers, my husband’s dirty socks on the floor, and more diapers,” Nesta replied. Being a housewife had never appealed to her, not that anyone had asked her opinion.

“You’ve got two extremes,” Gwyn pointed out, reaching for her empty glass and refilling it with juice before passing it to Astrid, who murmured a soft “thank you.” “You need to learn to find balance.”

“I’m balanced. I don’t work weekends... mostly,” Nesta met two pairs of judgmental stares. “And I leave work at six almost every time. You can’t judge me.”

Gwyn just shook her head, finishing her wine and clinking glasses with Astrid. Emerie, meanwhile, stole one of Callista’s grapes, provoking the little girl’s loud protest. Nesta shot her friend a disapproving look that clearly said, Really?

After sitting a while longer, Callista fell asleep despite the occasional laughter and conversations between the women. Astrid, on the other hand, remained wide awake, feeling very much like part of the group, which both Gwyn and Emerie encouraged by asking her about school and any class gossip.

Nesta doubted first graders knew much about gossip, but she listened with interest as her daughter described how their English and math teachers always ate lunch together. Nesta, of course, didn’t crush Astrid’s speculation that this meant something.

Eventually, even Astrid began yawning, resisting all attempts to convince her to go to bed because she didn’t want the day to end. Nesta promised they’d wake up early and go to the amusement park, while Gwyn whispered something in her ear that sounded suspiciously like “mountain of candy.” Astrid just giggled and finally agreed to sleep.

For another half hour, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie sat together, chatting about everything happening in their lives. Gwyn talked about how Cassian’s step-brother kept showing up at her church while Emerie tried to convince her to let her punch both him and Cassian, much to Nesta’s amusement. Emerie also shared stories from her shop and her plans to open another branch somewhere in the city.

Then Nesta was distracted by a notification sound, half-thinking—or hoping—that it was Eris. Maybe he needed help with the case. Who knew? They had another hearing soon, so anything was possible.

But it wasn’t Eris. It was Elain, and after reading her message, Nesta groaned and tossed her phone aside.

“What’s wrong?” Gwyn frowned.

“Elain. Or Feyre, they are probably sitting together,” Nesta snorted, pouring herself more wine and taking a big gulp. “They’re both trying to drag me to a family dinner. It’s Nyx’s birthday in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” Emerie sighed.

That was Nesta’s reaction, too. “Oh,” followed by a string of curses. Because there was no way she was willingly stepping foot in Cassian’s family home. Even if, technically, he no longer lived there. Even if, technically, it was now Feyre’s home with her son, Nyx. Feyre’s husband, in Nesta’s not-so-humble opinion, didn’t count as a person, so his house’s ownership didn’t count as well.

She hadn’t seen her sisters since the divorce. Not because she didn’t want to, but more because Feyre’s idiot husband was always lurking around her, never straying far, and Nesta wouldn’t have been surprised to learn they even pooped together, holding hands on matching toilets. And Elain always insisted they meet as sisters only when all three of them could meet, though she probably spent her weekends hanging around Feyre’s house anyway.

They called almost every week, but Nesta was always more at ease with the separation. Maybe it was because she was older than both of them, and Elain and Feyre were closer in age and therefore in interests. Besides, they were both… easier company than Nesta? It wasn’t some self-hating observation, but Nesta could clearly see there was a lot more harmony and lightness in tending to flowers and painting those same flowers than in talking about law.

That didn’t mean the sisters were distant from her. They still found topics to talk about—Nesta could sometimes call Feyre and, if she didn’t hear Rhysand’s voice in the background, not hang up immediately but ask her advice about parenting or other child-related matters. As much as it was hard to admit, Feyre understood things better because Nyx was older, and Feyre had already dealt with everything Nesta was going through with Astrid.

With Elain, Nesta would just chat, like when she asked whether she needed to water the cactus Elain had given her for her last birthday. The cactus was still quietly thriving on her bedroom windowsill, even though it had moved with Nesta from her old house to this apartment. And generally, Elain always called to check in on her, which counted as communication too.

Nesta hadn’t completely cut herself off from her family. And she didn’t need to show up at this circus elegantly titled a “family dinner.” There was a small chance Cassian would be there because, for some stupid reason, poor Rhysand couldn’t go a day without his “brother,” and Feyre would never let her husband suffer for one single evening just so Nesta could avoid the most awkward and uncomfortable night of her life.

It wasn’t that she wanted to let Cassian ruin her family relationships even after their divorce, but Nesta wanted to avoid confrontation with him for now. They were barely coping with splitting custody of the kids by the days of the week, and Nesta was already preparing an appeal to get more days. She hadn’t yet figured out a schedule that would work for her and not deprive the kids of their father, even if their father was a complete jerk. Though Nesta could admit Cassian adored their kids with all his heart, much more than he had ever loved her. So she wouldn’t fully take his rights away.

"Are you going to go?" Gwyn gently and calmly pulled her out of her thoughts.

“No,” Nesta snapped and then lowered her gaze. “I don’t know. Should I?”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged glances and both shrugged. This was a question they couldn’t give her a good answer to.

“They’re your sisters,” Gwyn said. “Maybe you should go. And besides, it’s your favorite nephew’s birthday—you can’t not go. That would break his heart. Cassian’s family can go to hell, but your family still matters.”

Gwyn rarely swore—practically never, given that she was religious and literally worked at a church. So both Nesta and Emerie stared at her wide-eyed at first, realizing just how much Cassian annoyed Gwyn. He annoyed all of them, but now Nesta felt even more support from her friends.

“One evening won’t kill you. And you can always get Astrid to pretend she feels sick, so you can leave early,” Emerie grinned, breaking the bad mood. “She’s growing into a little actress. Bribe her with cheesecake, and she’ll act out anything you want.”

Nesta laughed, as did Emerie and Gwyn. Picking up her phone, she texted Elain—and Feyre, who was surely sitting next to her—that she would come.

***

Eris Vanserra always considered himself a rational man. Or at least, he tried to be.

What wasn’t rational was continuing to think about Nesta Archeron, who had reentered his life three months ago and hadn’t left his mind since. Eris thought he might be a masochist for agreeing to hire her, because there was no other explanation.

Not that he was losing his mind, but he was getting distracted often. His secretary occasionally asked if everything was alright with the firm because he was reaching out to one specific paralegal far too frequently. Eris very rarely reached out to paralegals in his firm.

And yet, after promoting Nesta to senior associate, everything became ten times worse because his masochistic brain and complete lack of control over his tongue in her presence led him to invite her to join the Kallias case. Naturally, Nesta’s help was invaluable.

Eris never doubted that Nesta was an exceptional lawyer—probably better than him. Had she not gone on maternity leave, her firm would likely have been a worthy competitor, if not a full-fledged threat to his own. Unfortunately, when Nesta left, Eris hadn’t hesitated to crush that firm completely.

And now? Now he was pacing his office in circles, desperately trying to gather the remnants of his brain cells to focus on his speech for the trial. What was looping in his mind nonstop? Of course, not how to word things to extract the maximum compensation from those factory bastards. Instead, his brain kept replaying their kiss.

If Eris had been younger, he might have jumped to the ceiling. Now, though, he was tormenting himself with questions—what did it mean, and should he think of it as something more than a spontaneous act of emotion? Nesta rarely acted emotionally; she was as much a reflection of rationality as Eris thought himself to be.

“Are you this nervous before the hearing?” a teasing voice distracted him from his fifteenth lap around the desk.

Eris sharply raised his head to see Nesta standing in the doorway with two steaming mugs of coffee. He smirked and gestured for her to come in.

“I don’t remember what it’s like to be nervous before a trial,” he replied with feigned arrogance.

Nesta only snorted, clearly remembering how much they’d both stressed before the first Kallias hearing. “I thought you might’ve missed sleep, but now I’m debating giving you coffee at all. Too much energy, and you’ll hit hyperspeed.”

“Or have a stroke,” Eris joked. Nesta rolled her eyes.

She sat down at the table; he settled into his chair opposite her, and they both drank their coffee in silence. It had become a small tradition over the past few weeks, and Eris didn’t mind at all. He was used to the silence of his office, which was usually broken only by the sound of his own typing or the rustling of papers—or, very rarely, by someone daring to disturb him. But this silence was different. Eris had forgotten how comforting it could be to share a quiet moment with someone.

The last time he felt like this had been back when he and Nesta studied together in the library. That was before the bar exam, when they both lived on energy drinks, coffee, and anything but sleep to make it through. Nesta had been too exhausted to refuse when Eris sat next to her, and Eris... Eris had claimed he was too tired to walk to another table, though, in truth, it had seemed like a good excuse at the time.

Not that he was desperate.

He was definitely desperate.

“Is everything ready?” Nesta asked him.

Eris smirked. “Doubting me, Archeron?”

“You don’t have room for error, Vanserra,” she said firmly. “Or I’ll personally run you over with a car—along with the factory owners.”

He chuckled. He had every reason to believe Nesta would actually do it—and somehow extract compensation from them even posthumously. Maybe by bribing demons in hell? Who knew.

Setting her empty mug on the table, Nesta returned to the case documents, methodically reviewing them one more time. She insisted on preparing for the hearing to the bitter end, while Eris was confident that afterward, they’d be able to settle with the factory owners for a far larger amount than the court would order them to pay.

An hour passed. Then another. And soon they were sitting in Eris’s car on their way to court. Nesta was going over their strategy for the tenth time, while Eris found himself utterly mesmerized by her voice. Well, if he remembered the content of what she was saying, that still counted as listening, didn’t it? Besides, he couldn’t help it. To be completely honest—a rare occurrence for him—Eris would admit he could listen to Nesta talk about anything.

He just liked her voice, and he wasn’t prepared for how much it distracted him. Right now, the only thing saving him was that he was driving, so he could blame the traffic if it seemed like his focus wavered.

“Are you sure you don’t need another coffee?” Nesta asked, arching a brow. “You look like you’re not listening to me at all.”

“I’m listening,” Eris waved her off, glancing at her. And damn, he wished she had different eyes. Because looking into her light blue, soul-piercing gaze made it impossible to come up with a convincing lie. “I don’t need coffee,” he said instead.

They said blue eyes could pierce the soul. Eris felt the same under Nesta's gaze. Every single time. From the day they first met at university when she bluntly told him he only got in because of his parents' money after he made an ill-advised joke about her outfit.

Had Eris been a jerk in his younger days? Yes. But Nesta's presence in his life had been a profoundly humbling experience. She always knew what to say to him. Always knew how to retort to his barbs with sharper ones. Eris had never told her this—and likely never would—but he admired her ability to never back down, to push forward and always match whatever was thrown her way. Venom for venom, kindness for kindness.

For a time, he wanted to work in the same firm as her, but that would’ve been difficult, given their similar ambitions. Nesta wanted to become a partner at her firm, and Eris knew he’d just get in her way. Between him and her, the firm would choose money over talent. As exceptional a lawyer as Nesta was, the Vanserra legacy would tip the scales. So, Eris chose a different firm.

***

The courtroom was tense. Nesta’s cold gaze bore into the factory's lawyers, who lifted their noses, pretending innocence. When it came time for the cross-examination, Eris straightened, rising from his seat, feeling Nesta’s stare on his back.

“Before I ask any questions, I want to ensure you understand the consequences of perjury,” he began.

One of the factory owners sat before him, dressed impeccably, likely hiding a smug smirk, confident they’d get away with it. Eris knew that look too well—and he loved crushing it later.

“I understand,” the owner replied.

“Then you’re aware that you raised the factory’s insurance policy to twenty million dollars.”

“Objection,” the factory’s lawyer called from his seat. “Relevance?”

The judge shook his head, overruling the objection, and Eris suppressed a smirk. “They knew what they were doing. That’s why they conducted a so-called charitable redevelopment and replaced the soil.”

“You have no proof,” the lawyer countered.

“No, we don’t,” Eris admitted, stepping closer to the owner. “But we have the insurance policy your client signed. That policy outlined the exact sum you offered during negotiations, didn’t it?”

“That was a generous offer on our part,” the owner protested.

“No. You’ve been able to pay that amount for a year now,” Eris replied, narrowing his eyes.

The owner fell silent. Eris thought he heard Kallias growl softly in frustration behind him. For someone usually composed, calm, and even cold, Kallias was uncharacteristically emotional about this case.

“And it’s six times the standard insurance amount for factories,” Eris continued, his gaze unwavering. The owner’s eyes darted across the room, seeking help from his lawyers, who clearly couldn’t think of a way to assist. “Tell me, Mr. Attor, what makes this factory so special? What prompted you to insure it for so much more than your other facilities? Remember, you are under oath.”

For a few seconds, Eris held his gaze, staring into the eyes of a man who had calculated the worth of children’s lives and moved on as if nothing had happened. A few seconds felt like an eternity. Just as Eris was about to speak again, not wanting to waste the court’s time, Attor spoke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, like any spineless businessman would. “I don’t handle the insurance policies.”

Fucker.

Eris merely huffed, returning to his table, where Nesta handed him the necessary documents with an icy glare fixed on Attor. Eris nodded in thanks, walking back to the factory owner.

“Your name is on the policy,” he said coldly, tossing the papers in front of Attor’s face.

“I need to confer with my client,” the lawyer interjected, but the judge denied the request.

“And I need him to answer my question,” Eris said through clenched teeth. “Why such a high insurance amount?”

Attor’s eyes darted around again, more frantically this time. Eris would have enjoyed grinding him into the dirt. The judge stepped in, pressing Attor to answer properly under cross-examination. After several helpless attempts to speak, Attor finally broke.

“Fine!” he barked. “We knew! We took measures that didn’t work. We couldn’t predict it, and the factory was already operational. But we found a way to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Eris echoed coldly, his gaze flicking briefly to the jury, each member watching intently. “You valued the lives of those children at a hundred thousand dollars each, knowingly poisoning them—and that can never be fixed.”

Attor exhaled shakily, his shoulders slumping as he closed his eyes, realizing he’d said too much under pressure. Eris glanced at the lawyer, who was now whispering frantically to Nesta, but her stern glare made it clear—the compensation wouldn’t come cheap.

***

Nesta stayed in Eris’s office as they dealt with the remaining documents. Mostly, they redirected financial burdens to the factory owners, hitting them with hefty bills for anything they could—one of the perks of being skilled lawyers.

Now that they no longer had to stress about the case—which ended with the factory owners paying Kallias one and a half million dollars per child—Nesta couldn’t help but notice a different tension. Like how Eris subtly pulled his hand back whenever they both reached for the same document. Or how he avoided her gaze whenever she looked at him.

Still, she didn’t want to be the first to address the topic. Otherwise, she’d have to answer a question she wasn’t ready to face herself. Why had she kissed him?

Because she was an impulsive fool, her inner voice answered. Though, deep down, she knew the real reason. But admitting it would complicate things even further—because no, she wasn’t about to make a move on Eris Vanserra. Not now, and probably not anytime soon.

“I’m getting coffee. Want some?” Eris interrupted her thoughts as he rose from his chair. Nesta simply nodded, watching him quickly head for the door.

As Eris reached for the door handle, Kallias appeared, wearing a tired but soft smile and carrying a box of expensive whiskey. Eris muttered something about getting coffee and left anyway. Nesta offered Kallias a small smile as he approached the table, setting the box down.

“How are you feeling?” she asked gently.

Kallias straightened his shoulders, clearly buoyed by today’s courtroom success. Of all of them, this case had been hardest on him. Nesta couldn’t imagine how attached someone running an orphanage could be to the children they cared for.

“We’ve managed to secure treatment for all the kids,” he said, much to her relief. “The doctors are optimistic about most of them. For the others… well, now we can ensure their comfort and provide all the necessary medications to minimize their symptoms.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nesta replied sincerely, watching as Kallias leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms. “We’ll make sure the company sends your share as soon as possible.”

Kallias nodded gratefully. “I don’t doubt it. If there’s one thing you and Vanserra excel at, it’s intimidating people,” he chuckled.

“We’re karma incarnate,” Nesta quipped, smirking.

Kallias laughed, nodding in agreement. After a brief pause, he spoke again. “I’m deeply grateful you took this case. I know how much trouble those bastards caused you, and I know Eris could’ve made millions with less hassle elsewhere. But he chose our orphanage. He chose not to abandon those kids. And I wanted to thank you both.”

“I see,” Nesta said, tracing a nail along the edge of the box.

“It’s also an apology for not warning you about the debts,” Kallias added with a wry smile. “My wife Viviane and I are hosting a dinner this Friday. It’s an annual event for our sponsors and to attract new ones, but this time, I’d really like you to attend.”

“Is this you inviting my senior associate to dinner, or is there some context I’m missing?” came Eris’s voice from behind them. Both Nesta and Kallias turned to see him carrying two cups of coffee. He set one in front of Nesta and kept the other for himself, offering none to Kallias. Clearly, Eris had only caught the last part of the conversation, though Nesta doubted he was serious.

Kallias snorted. “I’m married,” he reminded.

“You wouldn’t believe how many ‘married’ people I’ve worked with,” Eris quipped, sipping his coffee. Nesta just rolled her eyes at his sharp tongue.

“Kallias is inviting us to a charity dinner,” she explained. “And we’d be happy to accept.”

Eris just shrugged, as if to say, You heard what she said. Instead of responding verbally, he began examining the whiskey bottle's box with interest, raising an eyebrow.

"From personal collection," Kallias explained as if Eris had accused him of spending the money he'd won from the factory earlier. "I figured after the circus I dragged you into, you'd need a drink."

"Not bad," Eris commented, setting the box back down. "Looking forward to seeing you and Viviane on Friday."

Kallias soon said his goodbyes, mentioning he had plenty of doctor and hospital matters to handle. Eris and Nesta watched him leave, then both turned their gazes to the bottle. Drinking midweek felt like a bad idea for both of them, but...

"Technically, I’m my own boss and can set any schedule I want," Eris said. Nesta just scoffed.

"My workday starts at nine in the morning," she reminded him.

"I’m sure your boss would understand if you’re a couple of hours late tomorrow," Eris shrugged, slipping on his coat. "Besides, I’ve yet to hear anyone turn down an invitation to have a drink at my penthouse."

"Always a pleasure to be the first," Nesta retorted with a smirk, though she was also getting ready to leave. "You could use a little humbling."

Eris simply picked up the whiskey he'd been given and extended his hand. Nesta took it without hesitation, walking with him toward the elevator. Eris’s assistant cast them a brief glance, and Nesta could’ve sworn the woman smirked.

As they stood in the elevator, Nesta couldn’t help but think about what the assistant might be assuming. This was, after all, one of her specialties—overthinking what people thought, then rethinking and overanalyzing... She was talented at thinking too much.

"Elijah’s probably misunderstood the whole thing," she muttered, looking at their reflection in the elevator mirror. Eris stood behind her, one hand holding the whiskey while the other was already tucked into his pocket after letting go of hers. Tall, in his expensive coat, with those strikingly red hair that she found far too attractive. Damn Eris Vanserra and his genetics.

"And what exactly did she misunderstand?" Eris asked quietly, leaning slightly toward her ear, sending a wave of goosebumps down her spine. She definitely needed that whiskey. Preferably right now.

"That you’re breaking workplace ethics and abusing your position," Nesta straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin to meet Eris’s gaze in the reflection. He was watching her just as steadily. "She could report you, you know."

"I’m not breaking workplace ethics with her," Eris chuckled. "I haven’t broken any rules yet; my hands are clean, Archeron. I thought you were well-versed in legal matters."

Nesta rolled her eyes as the elevator chimed, signaling their arrival at the right floor. They both headed toward Eris’s car, more out of habit than conscious decision. Once they were inside, and Eris was starting up his Aston Martin, Nesta warned him that if they ended up drinking, he’d be obliged to either drive her to work in the morning or pay for her cab since she’d left her car in the parking lot. Eris quickly agreed, clearly not considering it a difficult condition.

He hadn’t lied when he said he’d purchased an office close to his home. They arrived very quickly—much faster than the food delivery Nesta insisted on ordering during the drive. It was evening, and Eris had immediately admitted that his place was stocked with little more than water and, if they were lucky, a yogurt or two. To this, Nesta responded that this idiot could buy half the buildings in the district but couldn’t invest in a properly stocked fridge.

"I still don’t understand what’s so hard about buying groceries," Nesta shook her head as they stood in the elevator again, this time leaning against opposite walls.

"I’ve always got delivery services," Eris shrugged, clearly unbothered by his fridge’s state. "And we’ve already ordered food. I even compromised and agreed on sushi."

Nesta muttered something about how disliking sushi should be against nature as they both stepped out of the elevator and headed into his apartment. Eris just laughed, opening the door and letting her in ahead of him.

Eris’s apartment was about what Nesta had expected—minimalist, clean, empty. Nothing out of place, as if everything had been measured with a ruler.

"No signs of life," she remarked, hanging up her coat. Eris hung his next to hers, heading into the kitchen to drop off the whiskey and find glasses.

"I’ll take that as a compliment," he replied.

Nesta continued to look around, turning her head this way and that, now studying the kitchen. She took a seat at the high bar table—not particularly practical. That was one of their differences: Eris didn’t care about whether his furniture was practical for others. His height allowed him to sit at the table comfortably, while Nesta’s first thought upon seeing it was that children could easily fall and hurt themselves.

"Behold, I’ve found cheese," Eris announced, peering into the fridge. Nesta couldn’t help but laugh at how simple that sounded. Eris had never struck her as simple before, and he still wasn’t, but there was something amusing—and even endearing—about the way he proudly showed her the cheese, as if it were some kind of treasure.

"Wow, we won’t starve after all," she replied sarcastically as Eris rummaged through the drawers for a knife and a cutting board. "And we won’t get completely drunk before the food arrives."

Seeing that he clearly had no experience cutting food, Nesta watched him struggle for a few moments before clicking her tongue and taking the knife from his hands. She quickly sliced the cheese with practiced efficiency, pushing him aside.

Eris muttered something under his breath, watching her, before they settled into his spacious living room. Twenty minutes later, the sushi arrived. By then, the whiskey had been poured into glasses, and they were chatting.

"You chased Cassian with an axe?" Eris laughed, nearly spilling whiskey on the white couch.

Nesta shrugged, smirking as she popped another warm roll into her mouth. "It was deserved."

"I don’t doubt it," Eris said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

"I’m serious. It was so long ago—I was a little more hotheaded then," they both snorted at the word "little," "and it drove me insane how, after everything that happened the night before, he had the audacity to cheerfully say, ‘Good morning.’ Seriously, ‘good morning’? I bailed him out of jail because his dumb ass got into trouble while drunk."

Eris just shook his head, pushing his portion of warm rolls closer to her while stealing one of her Philadelphia rolls. Nesta didn’t put up much of a protest.

"Good to know you’ll show up to my office with an axe if something doesn’t suit you," he joked.

Nesta arched a brow at him, leaning back into the plush cushions of his couch. She toyed with her glass, swirling the amber liquid inside before taking a slow sip.

"I wouldn’t waste an axe on you, Vanserra," she said, her voice smooth but laced with challenge. "Too dramatic. I’d find something subtler."

"Subtler, huh?" Eris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he mirrored her gaze. "I’d almost be offended if that didn’t sound equally dangerous. What would you use then? Poison? A lawsuit? Maybe just a sharp tongue—your usual weapon of choice."

Nesta smirked, her lips curving just enough to be maddening. "You’d deserve it either way."

"Would I?" His tone dropped, laced with playful skepticism, but there was something darker in the way his eyes dragged over her face, lingering just a beat too long on her lips.

Nesta didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. She tilted her head, the faintest challenge gleaming in her eyes. "I always have good reasoning, so don’t tempt me." She couldn’t ignore the way his gaze had shifted, as if studying her every move. It sent a ripple of heat down her spine, one that she stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

"Tempt you?" Eris asked, raising a brow as he leaned forward, resting an arm casually along the back of the couch. His eyes gleamed with teasing. "That’s not the word I’d use for what I’m doing."

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "And what exactly do you think you’re doing?"

Eris tilted his head slightly, considering her. "Testing your patience, apparently. And maybe my own."

"You’ve been testing my patience since the moment we met," she replied with a snort.

Eris chuckled. "And yet here you are. In my home. On my couch."

Nesta arched a brow. "Because you bribed me with whiskey and takeout. Hardly a groundbreaking strategy."

"I didn’t hear you complain," he countered smoothly. "So careful, Nesta. I might think you’re enjoying yourself here."

Her scoff was immediate, though her lips twitched as if she were fighting off a smile, the flush creeping up her neck betrayed her. "You’re insufferable."

"And you’re here," he countered smoothly.

Nesta opened her mouth to retort, but the sound of her phone buzzing on the table cut her off. She glanced at the screen—Cassian’s name lit up the display.

Eris noticed immediately, a flicker of something sharp flashing across his face before he masked it with an easy smile. "You’re welcome to answer that, of course. But if you do, I reserve the right to confiscate your phone for the rest of the night. House rules."

Nesta arched a brow at him, clearly unimpressed. "Confiscate my phone? Try it and see what happens."

The challenge was clear, and for a moment, Eris looked like he might just take her up on it. Instead, he reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring her another glass. "Your choice. Though I’d hate for you to miss out on this exquisite company."

"Exquisite?" Nesta drawled, accepting the drink. "That’s a strong word for someone who thinks finding cheese is an achievement."

"You wound me," Eris said, his smirk growing. He leaned back, his long frame stretching out on the couch as he watched her. "But don’t worry. I’ve got thick skin. And an even thicker skull, apparently, since I keep letting you stick around to insult me."

Nesta met his gaze, her smirk mirroring his. "Maybe you enjoy it."

His eyes darkened just slightly, a flicker of something unmistakable passing over his features. "Maybe I do."

She felt her pulse skip, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she leaned back, matching his casual posture, and arched a brow. "Careful, Vanserra. You might regret saying that."

Eris tilted his head, his smile more wolfish now. "Careful, Archeron. You might be underestimating me."

Nesta's gaze lingered on his lips, curved into that damn smirk she shouldn’t have found as attractive as she did. Now it felt like they were sitting too close. Eris was right there, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on his cheeks from the whiskey. Her own cheeks were probably just as red.

The light teasing, the subtle flirting—it was all so familiar. And yet, Nesta felt that if they stayed like this for even a few more seconds, she was bound to do something impulsive again. Especially with his lips so close and Eris himself clearly not opposed to the idea.

But before she could act on the reckless thought blooming in her mind, her phone buzzed again. She remembered she needed to take the call, even though every fiber of her being wanted to ignore Cassian. What could he possibly need from her at nine o’clock on a weekday evening?

Nesta sighed, pulling back from Eris and reaching for her phone before answering.

“Nes, hey,” Cassian’s voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically tense. “You need to come here. Now. It's very urgent.”

[bloodywickedlips]

Lessons and scars pt 4

It’s been a full 8 months of dating Spencer and things were tense as I got back to my apartment and huffed as I put my bag down.

Spencer slammed the door and it made me jump, looking over to him I saw a scowl on his face.

“What?” I asked him feeling tired and over worked, needing a much needed rest. No matter how many killers we stopped there seemed to always be two more.

“Nothing I’m just tired” he said and I arched my brow at him but decided not to press any further. We both had dinner in silence and then went to bed. I knew something was on Spencer’s mind but he wasn’t opening up to me and I was not in the mood to fight. Things were tense since Emily left and there were a lot more fights.

The next morning both our phones rang meaning there was a new case. We both got up and Spencer went back to his apartment to shower and then meet at the office.

“What is it this time?” I asked as we all sat around the table each one of us nursing a coffee.

“Right so we have a string of bodies showing up. No limbs no heads just torsos, no way in saying who is who except for having tattoos if they had any” Garcia said and explained the case further.

“Wheels up in 30” Hotch said and we all got our things ready and climbed onto the jet to solve yet another case.

Turns out it was a cult using the body parts for rituals and it took about a week to put together and make the arrests. This time I went to my apartment alone as Spencer needed to clean up his own apartment. Stepping into the door I looked down and saw a small box there and wondered what it was. I walked to the kitchen and used a knife to cut it open and once opening it I cursed to myself. I picked up the letter, leaving the flowers as is.

Once I opened the letter my heart stopped and I went cold “I know about him, Dr Reid will be next” the note read and I picked up the photo in the note seeing it was Spencer and I having coffee, I  dropped it as realization came over me. He was back and was going after the only thing I loved again.

I avoided Spencer’s calls over the next few days saying I had the flu and I was man down. It bought me some time to figure out a plan, but the only one I had was to leave Spencer. I needed to keep him safe by all costs.

Slowly but surely I pulled back from Spencer, less dates and less sleeping over, it caused fights between us but I knew I had to keep him safe, keep him alive.

Currently I was hunched over my desk filling in my reports when the group asked to go for drinks. “Don’t bother asking her, she’s too busy” Spencer answered for me and I huffed at his snarky tone.

“Sorry guys I want an early night for once” I said and everyone groaned and pleaded but I shook my head. “I'm really tired, but you guys have fun” I said and stood up with my bag. “Spence what about you?” JJ asked and Spencer looked at me but I looked down not being able to look him in the eyes.

“No I'm okay” Spencer said and they all gave each other glances and then made their way to the basement where all the cars were.

I was walking to my own car when Spencer grabbed me by the arm “What is going on with you, I never see you outside of work and even then you barely look at me” Spencer hissed at me and I rolled my eyes at him.

“Not now Spencer, I'm really tired and want to get home” I said to him but he wasn’t giving up.

“No I want to know what your problem is, are you tired of dating me? Or are you just bored and need to move on to the next one, am I not good enough because I don’t abuse you? Is it that you want that thrill?” Spencer shouted at me and I felt my heart break at his words.

He had no idea that I was keeping him safe but if that is what he wanted to believe then so be it.

“I'm done, were done” I whispered out not daring to look into his eyes.

“Wai- uh what?” Spencer asked me dumbfounded not believing what I just said. “Sorry Spencer, I just cant do this anymore” I said and then climbed into my car and drove home. The moment I shut the door of my apartment I broke down in sobs, feeling my heart break into a thousand pieces.

I made my way to my bed and broke down more, crying for hours on end. After composing myself I sent in an email requesting Hotch to allow me to take 7 days of my leave days that have collected. He had no problem with it and I was left to sulk around alone in my apartment.

On the fourth day there was a knock on my door and when opening it I saw Morgan there with coffee.

“Morgan not now” I said and went to close the door but he stopped me and stepped inside anyway.

“No I'm not leaving until I know what’s going on. You took a week off, Spencer is a mess and looking at you, so are you. Now spill” Morgan said and I felt the tears rise again and broke down. Morgan hugged me to him and let me cry it out.

“Come now, tell me and I can help” he said and I pulled back wiping my eyes. “Spencer and I broke up” I said to him and he gave me a sarcastic look.

“Yes we all noticed, but why sweetness, you guys were so happy?” he asked and I sighed as I turned around and fetched the box, handing it over to him.

“Who is this from?” he asked me and I walked over to the couch and sat down.

“My stalker, the one who killed my parents. He’s never been caught and he’s been dormant for the past 14 years. After Rossi got so close to catching him, he vanished. I thought he was dead, but now he’s back and I can’t put Spencer in danger” I explained to him as he sat next to me.

“Then we all help, we find this guy and put a stop to him” Morgan said but I shook my head at him.

“Morgan please, I don’t want anyone else knowing. Just us, he will go after the team and I cant have that, please” I begged him and saw him nod and pull me into another hug.

“Only if you ever get anything else you tell me” Morgan said and I promised him. “Okay now get dressed, I wanna show you something” he said and I groaned out.

“No none of that, dress in sweats and a tank top” he said and I got up and changed. Morgan drove us to his own gym and I looked at it confused not knowing what he wanted to do.

“Pretend this bag is your stalker” he said and gestured for me to hit the bag, I did so softly and he huffed at me.

“That’s how you gonna punch the person for killing your parents, and taking Spencer away from you? No mama I know you’ve got a meaner punch than that” Morgan said and I got angry. I punched the bag and heard Morgan praise me. I went at it for a while and then started sparing with Morgan in the ring.

“Now anytime you feel like crying or breaking you come here and you do this okay?” he asked me and I nodded understanding him.

Things were tense at work with Spencer not talking to me unless he had to and the rest of the team tried to stay out of it but JJ seemed a bit angry at me and would sometimes snap at me for no reason but this all lead me to go to the gym every day if I could, I started training harder and harder everyday, wanting to be able to take this stalker down if he was in front of me.

It was a few months that this went on, and when I was finished on the treadmill I headed home for a shower, walking past the mirror I saw my reflection and didn’t recognize myself anymore.

Long gone were the love handles I had and the round tummy, all replaced with toned muscles all due to hardly eating and such long training. I did notice the weight loss and had to buy new clothes but I never realized it was this bad. No wonder Garcia and Rossi asked me constantly if I was eating.

After my shower a knock on my door startled me and when opening it I saw Morgan standing there. “We have another case” Morgan said and I told him to give me 5 minutes to grab everything.

Second day into the case we got the profile as a male in his 40’s , taking couples to make up for the one he lost. “Okay so we have what he looks for in a couple, Reid, Olivia you two will go undercover, wearing tracking devices. We’ve established he keeps them around for a week and then disposes of them, so as soon as he grabs you two , we will make the arrest” Hotch said and I shook my head.

“Hotch can’t JJ go instead?” I asked hopeful but the stern look I got meant no. “You fit the female description better, it will be an easy in and out” he said and I nodded while walking over to change clothes to what the unsub looked for.

Spencer and I drove in silence to the club the unsub would be at and per Hotch’s instructions Spencer lead me inside and we both made it to the dance floor. “Spence you have to hold me” I whispered and his eyes snapped to me. “Don’t call me that” he spat out and we both heard a warning from Hotch over the line.

Spencer stepped forward and held me as we danced, trying to look around for the unsub but my head was buzzing with the feeling of Spencer’s hands on my hips.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight” Spencer murmured unapprovingly and it made my heart ache to hear how sad he sounded.

“Guys we have eyes on a possible” Hotch said and I sighed at relief as I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up the pretend and instead tell Spencer everything including how sorry I was.

Then all of the sudden all the lights went off and I tried to reach out for Spencer as voices shouted all around me, everything went blurry as I gripped onto Spencer’s hand and then blacked out.

“Anyone got eyes on them?” Hotch shouted out as the lights came back on but no one could see either Spencer or I. “Garcia where are the trackers?” Hotch asked and Garcia informed them that it was right outside the club in the alley way. The team rushed there and cursed as they stepped into the alley way. Both our clothes were there, along with the trackers.

“Someone tipped him off or he was in the room when we gave the briefing” Rossi said as everyone stood around our clothes trying to figure out which way the unsub took us.

[whorangi1104]

Ghoap AU: Frozen Hearts and Electric Souls

Chapter 4: Seeing Shadows

Ghost retired to the indoors shooting range to continue training after it got dark out, his mind still somehow on Johnny as he picked out attachments for an AK-47 and walked over to the targets lined on the walls. Bang. Bullseye. Walk backwards. Bang. Bullseye. Walk backwards. Bang. Bullseye. Walk backwards. Bang. Bullseye. Bump into Johnny. Wait- 

“Oh, hey there, LT, didn’t see ye there, sorry.”

“What are you doing here, sergeant?”

“Same as ye, training.”

“The arsenal is on the other side, sergeant.”

“Uh, yeah well, I had to give you this.”

Soap handed Ghost a sealed envelope which was labeled to be from Price, likely to be the mission report form for their last mission. Ghost took the envelope and put his AK back on the rack and looked back at Soap.

“Is this all?”

“Yessir. Did ye expect something else?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll be heading back to the barracks, I’ll be there if you need me.”

“Well, I could go with ye, I don’t really feel like training right now.”

“Do what you wish, just don’t interfere with my work.”

They walked in silence for a while, Ghost was just starting to get comfortable with the silence when Soap spoke up.

“Hey LT, what’s yer favorite color?”

“What?”

“Yer favorite color? I’m guessing it’s black?”

“...Why would you need to know my favorite color?”

“To get to know ye better, of course.”

“...It’s whatever color increases my survival rate the most at the moment.”

“Ye like your camouflage, LT? I meant a color you just generally like.”

Ghost glanced into Johnny’s eyes and instinctively said, “Electric blue.”

“Really? Thought you wouldn’t be much of a bright color person. Not to judge though-”

“It’s a good design color on black.”

“Makes sense.”

They arrived at their rooms and bid farewell, each retreating to the silence of their chambers. Ghost opened the envelope and saw there were multiple pieces of paper. One was the mission report, the other was information on their next mission in two weeks- and an extra accomplice. An American PMC, one called Shadow Company, led by Commander P. Graves. Another new addition, just what he needed. He read on, the mission was an investigation on rogue Prowlers in Mexico, something about unnatural attacks on civilians by ‘demonic creatures’ and such. Ghost sighed and filled out his mission report before heading out to file it.

—

Soap had just finished filing his own paperwork when he got a notification on his phone that Price had called for a meeting, reason unspecified, but for them to be on their best behavior. Soap exited his room just as Ghost was closing the door to his room, and followed him silently to room 719, where Price was waiting for them, and Gaz showed up a minute later. Price sat them down and started speaking.

“If you’ve all received the message by now, you should know we will be cooperating on the next mission in Mexico with a PMC, and they will be arriving shortly for a little meet and greet. And Ghost, before you say anything, yes, having them is a necessity, no, you cannot try to do this mission on your own. Any questions?” 

Soap turned to Ghost as he spoke up, “How long will this Mission last?”

“Anywhere from a few weeks to a few months.” 

Price waited as second, “Anyone else? Alright, the PMC’s commander is Philip Graves, and he will be bringing some of his shadows along for this meet, play nice.”

Just as Price finished speaking, there was a knock on the door, which Ghost answered and let in the American commander.

“Ah, Ghost. I’ve heard some stuff about you. Good to finally meet.”

Graves extended a hand, which Ghost shook, though it seemed somewhat reluctantly, and Soap caught him giving the commander a dirty look from across the room as the American talked to Price while three other men dressed in black from head to toe with the Shadow Company logo being the only thing that popped out. Shadows they are, then. They looked somewhat similar to Ghost, though Johnny thought he probably wouldn’t take kindly to that comparison. 

“Sergeant Mactavish, yes? Heard you were a slippery one, Soap. Nice to meet you.”

“Good to see ya too, Commander Graves. Hope yer trip went well?”

“Smooth as can be, you wouldn’t believe the cuisine they served on the flight, although it was lacking just a bit of flavor, but i have more than enough flavor in my life to make up for it.”

“Good te hear, welcome te the team, commander.”

For the rest of the meeting, he put on his signature smile and fought to keep down the urge to drag Ghost out of the room and get him away from the cocky American.

—

Ghost didn’t like Graves or his shadows, but he didn’t particularly resent them, they would be fine to work with for a while. He didn’t like the thought that he might fit right in at Shadow Company, masked, dark, and silent. Graves also gave off the impression that he was risky, but not in the good way that Soap was. He stayed silent for the meeting except for some grunts as answers to some questions trying to start up conversations that quickly died down. For the majority of the time, he was either inspecting their visitors or watching over Soap, analyzing from his fidgeting that he was nervous despite his shining exterior, and probably restless. And the sergeant had great curves. Not that he would care or notice, just a side note Simon forced himself to shove to the back of his mind, never to see the light of day again. Well, at least until he found Johnny in his room later that evening, beautiful ass up towards the sky and looking for something under Simon’s bed.

happy lunar new years! Celebrated by playing Mech arena with the boys till midnight, and eked this out with the last of my sanity.

[rottingcorps3s]

"Mistaken Friendship" Part 2 - S.R.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (they/them pronouns and no identifying features are used)

Simon is put off by how friendly the local barista is and hurts their feelings when he turns down their ‘friendship’ he refused to admit that they had.

Rating: Right now, like 13+, but may be subject to change.

Word Count: 850 ish words

A/N: This part is very short short so I decided to post them back to back. I'm planning to have part 3 written out by next weekend and will hopefully be posting it around then. Part 3 should be longer!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

The next time that the pair would come into contact again was about 2 months later. Simon had been in a similar situation to last time forced awake by yet another nightmare, this time at a much, much later time of night. 2:34am read the clock that sat idly on his nightstand to the right of his bed. He was up and out of the confines of his plush covered heaven in a flash, same emotions as last time and every other time before that. Anxiety, fear, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress.

Rinse, recycle, repeat.

Phone, shoes, jacket. He was down the street faster than he had been in a while, his mind still sitting at home in his bed shivering with anxiety. He opted for taking a longer walk compared to the last time, causing the 10-minute trip to turn into 35 minutes. By the time he was walking down the familiar street it was now a quarter past 3 am. The neon sign that he had once seen before seemed to shine brighter tonight, which in hindsight made sense, considering that it was later than usual and most of the businesses had closed for the night. He slowly approached the door, slightly hesitating as he was brought back to reality with how late it really was. The inside of the store was empty. The lights to the front of the store were shining brightly creating the illusion that they were in fact open and running. He glanced over at the sign that should’ve had their store hours posted on it, but it was blank, giving him no helpful information. His next step was to try the front door, which he did. He pushed against it, and it resisted his attempted intrusion. There’s you’re answer, he thought. He slowly turned away, opting to try again another time when he inevitably had another night terror.

“Excuse me!” A familiar voice rang through his ears; he slowly turned around. “I’m sorry, we’re open,” said the same voice which he had heard say something similar once before, “I just needed to run to the convenience store for a few things.” He nodded silently in agreement; his hands shoving themselves deep into his coat pockets.

“If you’re okay with waiting a few minutes, I can still make that drink for you.” They offered. They stood a few feet away from him in front of the door to the café, keys in one hand that was shoved into the keyhole unlocking the door, the other held a few plastic bags that had a variety of products shoved into them.

“Sure.” He said simply. The glass door was shoved open in front of the pair as they both entered. Simon took his place in front of the register while they raced behind the counter and to the back area of the store. The swinging door closed behind them but did little to block out all the noise. A few curses here and there, the slamming of what he assumed was the fridge door and an excessively loud sink faucet that creaked with the turning of the knob. They approached a few minutes later, now wearing a simple black apron.

“Sorry about that.” They apologized whilst rubbing their damp hands against the front of the apron. “I don’t get many visitors this late at night.” They humored to themself.

“Oi, no problem.”

“What can I started for you?” They asked, that sweet smile once again on their face just like the last time they had interacted.

“Uh,” Simon hesitated for a moment, “hot americano, please.”

“For Simon, right?” They asked, which caught him slightly off guard on hearing his name.

“Simon,” he agreed, “yes.”

Like last time, they disappeared behind the machine and appeared a few minutes later, drink in hand. Simon reached to his pocket where he tended to keep his wallet, his fingers dug around for a moment before being met with…nothing. Fuck, he thought. They must’ve been able to tell that something was wrong as they furrowed their brows in concern.

“Is everything alright?” They questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Uh, I don’t have my wallet.” He stated simply; averting his eyes to avoid looking directly at them. Embarrassment flooding his veins.

“Oh!” They exclaimed, “Don’t worry about it, I owe you one for making you wait anyway.” They chuckled quietly, their laugh sounding like velvet to his ears. He looked back up at them; their eyes were squinted with the small smile that resided on their face.

“I-I feel to bad,” Simon said which caused them to contort their face in confusion, “I’d hate for you to get in trouble.” he rumbled out, “You also gave me my last one on the house.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Simon?” They asked; he nodded silently in response. They craned their neck forward slightly, observing their surroundings for any potential eavesdroppers before finally speaking, “I’m the owner…” They whispered a fake expression of shock on their face at their confession. Simon rolled his eyes in response, a small half-smile taking over his features. “So please,” they started whilst gently pushing the drink over to him, “I insist.” Simon didn’t question the action any further, plucking the drink out from in front of him and bringing it to lips to take a swig.

[imaginaenespanol]

"Tall and Free: The Encounter with V" -V for Vendetta x Tall!Reader (ENG)

Anonymous Asked: Hello! I'm new to this and well I wanted to ask if you could do v (the one from V for Vendetta) in which v meets a very tall reader (you know those super tall people, well that) by the way if you don't want to do this, it's well, I understand!

Answer: Hi! Of course I can do it! Sorry for the wait, it's my first time doing this character and I'm quite excited to write it. I hope you liked it!

Number of words: 1918

Warnings: Violence, Self-image problems, strong words, indirect mention of dictatorship.

Versión en español: Aquí

In this world, it is already difficult to be able to live minimally autonomous, after the fearsome dictator Sutler. According to my parents, before everything was better, that at least we could breathe calmly, well, although it sounds naive, I believe that one day we can reach the freedom that my parents have related to me so much, but there is something that torments me every day more than total control, it is my height, I measure 192 cm (6 ft) hey! It's also not as terrible as certain silly movies would have you believe, it benefits me a lot when I have to intimidate someone for my own safety, of course as long as they don't carry a firearm, but... little things that I can't enjoy as I should make me feel like a Phenomenon, like buying a sweater and getting too small in the arms, or always hitting the doors of subway stations when entering or leaving, seriously, who designed those things? A hobbit? I already have a Bump on my head as a badge...

Although sometimes my own thoughts can betray many times in my work and people can be scared, there was a certain occasion that I met the epitome of revolution and certainly an anarchist Knight.

I was Walking at night, I had to stay in the Office for overtime and I lost track of time filling out forms in Excel, the curfew is already starting and I didn't want something bad to happen to me “Geez, the subway has already closed, I hope not I ran into someone, I don't want to get into trouble" I said to myself trying to warn myself and activate my senses through the dark streets of London. After walking safely in my 3 block, in the distance I saw a figure, she looked somewhat nervous from the movement she made with her feet, but could it be them? My stomach knotted with nerves.

Stealthily, I walked slowly while taking advantage of the fact that that figure looked distracted, with each step more and more of that person was revealed in the dark, but my heartbeat and breathing accelerated. Biting my lips and sending a slight pain to my brain, it prevented me from getting out of my mind, I was almost there...False alarm, she was a prostitute, did she look young? What is she doing there?, so I decided to approach her. "Girl, what are you doing here? It's not dangerous? What's your name?" Try to be as nice as possible, my height can be intimidating at night. The girl looked at me with a start and instinctively backed away, I gestured for her to calm down, I won't hurt her "I-I'm Every and this is... M-My first night, I thought..." "It's dangerous, you can run into the Fingermans'' I interrupted "I know everyone doesn't have the economic opportunities, but, you don't have to do this to yourself girl, don't ruin your life, look, I-" I couldn't continue with the conversation because a group of men He approached in the distance making noise, a lot of noise, uh oh, he knew those guys were the secret police, the 'Fingermen'. 4 months ago they took the Head of Marketing to 'Prison' to put it mildly, for having prohibited reading in his drawer and subliminal messages against the Sutler Government in the next advertising campaign for clothing, low blow.

I quickly gestured for Every to run away in the opposite direction when I told him to, and I did!, just as one of that group tripped and the others made fun of him. Taking advantage of my height I turned her back covering her, so they wouldn't see her running from her perspective and away from her, she hesitated for a moment "W-what's your name?" He asked me whispering "My name is (Y/N) (Y/L), get out of here!" I don't know what facial gesture I showed her, because I saw her running while I paid attention to those subjects again, they were a few meters from me and certainly they already saw me, the darkness did not save me from this unfortunately...

"Hey Big Girl, what are you doing at this time of night?" Said one with a mocking smile, I didn't answer him and backed away "Don't you know that the curfew has already started? It's illegal for you to be here doll" Said another while the rest laughed. I put my hardest face into my fear and told them "Look, , I'm not doing anything wrong, I just left work late and I want to get home in peace, okay?" Other taunts towards me "And who said you would go home?" One held my hand, he must have gotten closer when he was talking to the other two, Shit….

I struggled for a few moments while the 4th man pulled out a gun and his grip tightened making my wrist hurt quite a bit, but that was nothing with the feeling of the cold metal on my temple…I pointed the gun at my head “Listen, you giant bitch, We are the secret police, here we are the law and if you don't listen to us, well, you're going to a very bad place.” At that time I wasn't thinking correctly, trying to run away and take advantage of my height certainly didn't help but I did anyway. try, what did I get in return? blows to the stomach.

They were about to use the gun on me when suddenly one of the men fainted. A blow had left him fuit was combat, but I couldn't make out where it came from. Before he could process what was happening, the other three men began pointing in the direction the attack had come from.

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me. "Do you need help?" the voice said. I turned around quickly and saw a tall man, dressed in a cape and hat, a white mask with a haunting smile covering his face. Is it possible that he is…? I have heard rumors in my office that there was a dangerous masked terrorist wreaking havoc at night.

Despite his reputation, I couldn't help but feel relieved to see him, he was better than the Fingermans so I nodded. The masked man helped me up, and with a swift movement, he disposed of the remaining three men with amazing martial skills.

"Come with me, I'll take you to a safe place," he told me in a confident voice, and without hesitation, I followed him through the dark streets of the city, trying to process what had just happened.

“Uhh, ehh, thanks…” I shyly said, trying to break the tension. That man simply nodded and continued walking in silence. I felt awkward for a moment, but after a few seconds, I decided to ask him something. "By the way, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L) Who are you?" I asked curiously.

The Mystery Man stopped for a moment and turned to me. "I'm V," he said in a deep, melodic voice and with a certain extravagant gesture. "The Masked Avenger, the one who rises up against oppression and tyranny."

My heart pounded in my chest as I processed what he had just told me, the office rumors were true! I can say that he is more friendly and intimidating than he was described to me, but I never thought I would meet him in person. "Why did you help me?" I asked cautiously.

V stepped closer to me, his white mask haunting in the moonlight. "Because no one deserves to be wrongfully beaten and detained," he said. "I am fighting for the freedom and justice of this Country, and I cannot allow the tyranny of Sutler and his minions to continue harming innocent people."

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. There was something in his voice and in his eyes that made me feel safe and protected, despite how strange and dangerous it all was. "Thank you," I said again, but now, feeling a surge of gratitude and admiration for this mysterious man.

"Uh, I should go to..." I tried to tell him but V quickly stopped me "I wouldn't recommend that, miss" I looked at him confused "Why not? It's all over" I commented, thinking that there would be nothing wrong but he denied "If she goes home, it's a matter of time before they stop her, they won't stop until they find her" V said harshly, but without an iota of lies in his voice, it is true, they will not rest until they find me and make me pay for the shame that I cause them, I had no choice but to go with him

After going further than that place, V and I continued on our way to who knows where, according to him, towards his home. Along the way, I told V a few stories about how my height had caused me some inconvenience in my daily life, like not being able to find clothes that fit me or constantly having to bend down in places with low ceilings or sticking out in the cubicle. my office, all with a tone of certain bitterness on my part, which did not go unnoticed by the Man.

While we were talking, V looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, we were almost the same height and it's something I've gotten used to but I didn't see it favorably, but that man felt that he saw something exotic and attractive, which he didn't see. in myself.

"Your height is impressive, (Y/N). It's one of the things that makes you unique and special," V said with a kind tone, feeling her smile behind the mask "You shouldn't see her as a handicap, but as an advantage. You have a unique perspective on the world, and that's something few people have." I sigh, I get teased about it from school “Yeah, but…they make fun of that too Unique perspective? of course, since I'm tall…” I said with a listless voice and he stopped short, took me by the shoulders and gave me an understanding look "I understand that you feel that way. But the truth is that people will always find something to make fun of or criticize. That doesn't mean you should let their opinions get to you. You own your life and your decisions, and that includes how you feel about yourself. If you accept and love yourself just the way you are, nothing you say or do to others can hurt you. I was speechless, then he gave me a comforting hand "Don't worry, (Y/N). I'll be here to support you and help you in everything you need. You will always be special and unique, no matter what others say" .

I felt a little more encouraged by his words and we continued walking, after a while, I decided to ask him why he thought that. "Well, think of it like this," V said, stopping for a moment.

nto to look me in the eye. "When you walk down the street, don't you see things that others don't? Can't you reach things that others can't? That gives you an advantage, an ability that others don't have."

I was surprised by her perspective, and began to see my height in a different way. "I've never thought of it that way," I said with a smile. "Thank you V."

"You don't have to thank me," V replied with a smile. "I'm just telling the truth. You're beautiful and strong, and your height is just one of the many things that make you special. Don't let anyone make you feel less for it."

I felt grateful for his words, and together we continued on our way to his home. Despite the darkness and danger that surrounded us, I felt safe by his side. And in that moment, I knew that I had found someone I could trust and who would always be there to protect me.