#i wish i was less bitter and full of hate and anger and frustration

[confusedsiewmai]

-

[ladymorghul]

It may sound funny, but I've noticed recently a fair amount of Aemond hate coming from one part of the green fandom, mostly Aegon, Daeron and Helaegon fans. And the main reason is, believe it or not, that the show made Aemond more complex/grey, not a cartoon villain like in the book. I don't understand how anyone in their right mind could wish for the carbon copy of the terrible book version. I get that there are people who are frustrated with how they depicted Aegon in the first season or that Daeron wasn't included, but what does it have to do with Aemond's portrayal? That's literally one of the best things the show did in season 1 and him being as popular as he is caused many people to change sides. Anyway, if Aegon was done dirty, I doubt that was to prop up Aemond because he is far from being a saint. He is still full of hidden anger and resentment, an impulsive young man who is trying to hide that part of him just to be the son his mother needs, but isn't always successful in that, as we saw in Storm's End. And after B&C and everything that will happen during the war, that side will probably be more and more revealed. He was only given a great backstory which, if done right in the future seasons, could make him a really tragic and memorable character, not a one dimensional psycho villain who is inherently evil and cruel like in F&B. Idk, it's not a good thing that the green fandom is becoming more divided because of things like these and should actually be happy that any TG character is given more depth and importance.

i agree with you, anon, even though i don't blame the ones who are critical in good faith. i say this because season 1 portrayal of aegon ii was bad enough that in private circles, even some tb stans agree to this. and so for many who were expecting to see aegon in the show, having aegon being portrayed like that + the abscence of supposedly the most beloved of alicent's sons (daeron) made them a bit bitter. a concrete example of this is the feast scene. in the book, aegon takes offense to jacaerys dancing with helaena and whether or not this was a moment of jealousy or rather of ego, i've seen some people say they would have liked this to be portrayed as it was in the book.

i guess i can see and agree with all sides. yes, it's absolutely great that aemond got enough character depth to make him a proper multi dimensional character and not just a one dimensional evil character, but it does also suck to see this development and depth come at detriment of aegon ii and daeron.

i think there's also 2 other points here:

a) the writers knew aemond would sell. targaryen prince who wears an eyepatch and rides the largest and oldest dragon alive. aemond is practically ryan's babygirl and aemond is cool enough that even some team black stans will ocassionally agree that they enjoy watching him. gp also seems to have a "he's an asshole but it's fun watching him and he looks cool" take

b) ryan and other writers are strictly telling the dance of the dragons to relate to the misogyny alicent and rhaenyra face in the patriarchy (even though they really do a poor job of it sometimes) and thus it focused on how the men around them negatively impact them. aegon is the one rhaenyra's fighting for the throne so the way he's depicted isn't just related to the idea that they necessarily only cared about giving aemond depth and more about this dynamic and his place in the plot with rhaenyra.

it does suck that people have started fighting but i do have to say that sometimes aemond stans can be a bit overbearing to deal with. in my experience anyway.

however yeah, unfortunately we didn't get enough character development or screentime with the rest of the green kids and the hope is that they too get development like aemond did not that aemond gets less of it.

[kyovtani]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

[ banner source ]

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (02)

➭ You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, unrequited love, heavy angst, fluff, lawyer au.

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

SERIES: CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

"Please, Joon. I just need to know if he's okay..."

Namjoon scratched the back of his head while looking at Red. The latter was practically begging him to spill things he's been forbidden to utter. He was sure he's just seconds away from telling her what she wanted to know, but then he's abruptly reminded of how heartbroken Jungkook was.

"Don't tell her I'm here," tears painted Jungkook's cheeks. "I don't want to see her. Not now." Or ever...

"He's not here, Red. I'm sorry," Namjoon sighed, trying to close the front door of his small apartment; regrettably, Red stopped him before the door shut in her sad face."I know he doesn't want to see me." She said with a shaky voice—causing Namjoon to purse his lips into a thin line.

"Right." He couldn't help but say. She deserved the snarky remark for hurting Jungkook beyond repair.

"But I'm worried about him. H-He was...so mad when he left."

'Who wouldn't?' Namjoon wanted to say, yet he kept his lips glued together. He needed to remind himself that although she hurt Jungkook, Red was still his friend.

"I'm sure he'll be fine wherever he is." Namjoon's caught Red's eyes. "Jungkook is strong, you know."

"I know." She looked at her feet; this caused the man inside the house to also look down. Namjoon was so busy shooing Red away that he didn't notice a big box on the ground. Judging by the looks of it, he deduced that this box belonged to Jungkook. The tower of sketchpads and other art materials was already a giveaway.

"Can you give this to him, though? I'm not sure when I'll get to see him again, and I know he can't live without this stuff, so..." Red picked up the box. "Please, Joonie..." She added when the older boy didn't say anything.

"Fine."

In the end, Namjoon gave in. He didn't have a choice. This was the only way to make her leave; however, he instantly regretted his decision when he spotted Jungkook sitting on the couch."What did she say?" Jungkook inquired eagerly; his eyes flew on the box that's juggling in Namjoon's arms. Jungkook saw his friend trip over a non-existent stone.

Namjoon was really clumsy.

"She wants me to give this to you." The older boy handed the box to Jungkook in exchange for his precious daughter.

"Ji-eun..." Namjoon cooed, bopping the nose of his three-year-old child. Ji-eun chuckled; her little finger was poking her father's deep dimple.

"Appa!" Ji-eun's eyes twinkled. She missed being in her father's embrace even though it hadn't been long since Namjoon left her with Jungkook.

Ji-eun couldn't help it. Jungkook used to be the fun uncle, but all he did now was cry and snort. Admittedly, she's getting tired of wiping his tears every second.

She wondered who made uncle Jungkook cry.

"Huh." Jungkook huffed as he examined what was inside the box. Namjoon was right. It's full of the younger boy's stuff.

"Is she really so eager to kick me out of the house that she personally brought my things here!?"Jungkook was seeing red. Profanities left his lips as acid dripped down his stomach. He's so mad at his ex.

"Language, Jeon," Namjoon warned, turning away from Jungkook. He couldn't let Ji-eun listen to the younger boy's dirty mouth. "Besides, you're the one who left."

Jungkook didn't know how to respond to that, mainly because Namjoon was correct. He was the one who left in the middle of the fight. In his defense, he was hurt. What Red was saying was too much for him—it was painful, the kind of pain he knew would forever haunt him.

"I love him, Kook."

Red's confession echoed in Jungkook's mind again. Red told him she loved her soulmate. Jungkook didn't want to believe her because how? How could she fall in love with another man just by looking at him in the eyes?

"We've been seeing each other for months now."

His question had been answered. Red was a cheater, and it's the last straw for Jungkook. He couldn't take it anymore, so he stood up.

"I hate you, bitch!"

The pain that crossed Red's face indicated that Jungkook had gone too far. He didn't mean it, but he's hurt, and this was the only way he could hurt her back.

Before Red could say anything, Jungkook was already out of the door.

It's two am in the morning. Jungkook was certain that the only awake person that he could bother right now was none other than Namjoon, his brother-in-law.

Thankfully, Namjoon's apartment was just a few blocks away from Red's home.

"Kook?" Namjoon squinted his eyes after opening the door. He's been awake for straight twenty-seven hours to the point that he couldn't tell if Jungkook was really in front of him or if he's just hallucinating.

"Hyung..." Jungkook broke into tears upon seeing his only family.

Namjoon let the crying boy inside his house.

"I ran out of tea..." This was Namjoon's excuse when he handed Jungkook Ji-eun's milk. Namjoon didn't even have time to buy his groceries since his daughter occupied most of his time.

Fortunately, it looked like Jungkook didn't give two fucks as he was already halfway finished drinking the warm milk.

It's been exactly fifteen minutes since the younger boy came knocking on Namjoon's humble abode. Jungkook had stopped crying, though he still looked a little shaken.

"Red found her soulmate..." Jungkook spoke right before Namjoon could ask what happened. Suddenly, the older boy found himself biting his bottom lip. He didn't want to pry about Jungkook's life, but then he's reminded of the wish of Hye-Jin, his late wife.

"Take care of my brother, Joon..."

"D-Do you wanna talk about it?" Namjoon asked before he changed his mind. This was the only thing he could do for Hye-Jin.

"What's there to talk about?" Jungkook hissed even though he's the one who started telling Namjoon things. The latter kept his head low. In times like this, he wasn't sure what to say.

It's not like he's better than Red. Namjoon also broke up with the woman he was dating right after meeting Hye-Jin. The only difference was that Namjoon's ex perfectly understood the situation. She knew that they weren't destined to be together.

"She cheated on me. She said she's in love with her soulmate." The bitter taste in Jungkook's mouth was still there. It only strengthened as soon as the word 'soulmate' left his lips. Jungkook continued pouring his heart out to Namjoon despite saying he didn't want to talk about it.

"She's going to regret leaving me. No one can love her the way I do!" Jungkook swore, but Namjoon's almost 100% sure he's wrong.

Seeing colors were different. It felt like everything was perfect. Namjoon couldn't deny that one of the many reasons he fell in love with Hye-Jin was because she helped him see the wonderful hues.

It's like the more he fell in love with her, the brighter the colors became. Even now that she's dead, Namjoon could still see colors. Granted that it kind of faded, it's still the best thing Namjoon was proud to experience.

The rule of the world was simple. As long as your soulmate was in love with you, the colors would always be visible in your very eyes. It would only become less bright if your soulmate died. However, the case of a one-sided love was different. People wouldn't be able to see colors if their soulmates didn't give them their hearts.

Some said that there were cases wherein people went blind when their soulmates started to hate them. Namjoon and Jungkook didn't know if it was true or just a myth. After all, they hadn't encountered people who apparently 'went' blind because of the mentioned reason."I'm telling you, hyung. She'll come to see me soon."

Jungkook was right. Two weeks after their fight, Red showed up. Unfortunately, it's not to beg her ex to come back. She only returned a box full of his stuff, a clear sign that she's officially kicking him out of their shared apartment.

"How can she do this to me? It's my house too!" Said Jungkook nine days after Red's appearance in front of Namjoon's apartment, it finally dawned to him that his ex was no longer a part of his life.

It's really over.

Jungkook realized this while staring dumbly at his ruined sketchpads. Ji-eun accidentally spilled a glass of water on her uncle's drawing.

The mixture of pain, anger, and frustration caused Jungkook to scream. He couldn't possibly be mad at a three-year-old kid; that's why he just directed his negative emotions to the fact that Red practically kicked him out of their home—his home.

He was aware that Red's name was written in the lease contract, but Jungkook paid this year's rental fee. He's broke at the moment. This being the case, Jungkook swallowed his pride to come to live with his brother-in-law. The thing was, it's getting hard for him to stay there. Namjoon had only one room, so Jungkook slept on the couch—wait, this wasn't about right. Jungkook didn't even get to sleep. Ji-eun's cries wouldn't allow him to do so. Aside from this, the little kid had also ruined her uncle's drawings countless times now.

"Seriously, Kook. You need to move out of your brother-in-law's house." Taehyung pouted his lips.

Jungkook couldn't decide if he could take his friend's advice seriously, at least not when Taehyung's tongue was basically down Jimin's throat.

"I can't afford to lease a new place." Jungkook scrunched his nose, eyes still focused on the disgusting public display of affection in front of him. "I only have forty dollars in my bank account."

"Oh, you poor thing." Jimin slightly pushed his boyfriend's chest to dodge his kisses and to be able to look at Jungkook.

Jungkook snorted. He didn't want to be babied, especially not by Park Jimin, who he met just a few months back.

Park Jimin was Taehyung's real soulmate. It was still weird seeing them together. All his life, Jungkook believed that Taehyung, his childhood best friend, was a straight man. Taehyung dated a lot of women before; he also seemed to enjoy being with them.

This was one of the reasons why Jungkook hated the idea of a soulmate. It was a complete bull. It was unfair to let fate decide who you'll end up with. Jungkook witnessed Taehyung's struggle after meeting Jimin. He was happy that he could finally see colors and that it didn't take him long to like Jimin, but Taehyung was so confused.

Like Jungkook, Taehyung also thought he was straight, but then his world suddenly turned upside down. Before he knew it, Taehyung was crying. He was too overwhelmed with what was happening, and Jungkook hated it. The latter didn't care about genders; he supported those who didn't identify themselves as heterosexual. Jungkook hated that people had to limit what they thought their gender was just because of the concept of soulmate. Again, it was not fair.

"But I can help you..." Jimin added as he took a bite of his frozen yogurt. They were currently inside of an ice cream shop. Jungkook had to get out of Namjoon's home since it was getting hard to look at his ruined works. He called his best friend to help him destress. Jungkook just had to let his frustrations out. Luckily, Taehyung and Jimin were more than happy to treat their younger friend some frozen yogurts. Jungkook ordered three of the said dessert.

"No, Jimin." Taehyung said as if he'd read his boyfriend's mind. "Jungkookie isn't going to suck your dick for money."

"Aw." Jimin's lips protruded into a sulky pout, making Jungkook roll his eyes. Sometimes he couldn't believe the couple's relationship. Jungkook knew that Jimin was only joking, but Jungkook thought he couldn't let the love of his life think about someone else's body. He was pretty possessive.

"We can call Yoongi-hyung, though. I think he's in the mood for some dicks—"

"Guys!" Jungkook groaned, cutting them off. His eyes were widening too. "Can we stop talking about dicks for five seconds? I have a serious problem here."

"Oh, right!" Jimin's eyes lit up. He also cleared his throat—an action that made Jungkook sigh in relief; at least he's getting serious now. "You need to find a roommate, Kook. Lucky for you, I have a friend who's looking for a housemate. I think she could cut you off some slack."

The younger boy's scoff was almost instant. "Cut me off some slack?" He narrowed his eyes at Jimin. "I don't want to owe anything to anyone. You know that."

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, taking another bite of his frozen yogurt. "It's not like that. You'll actually be the one doing her a favor. She's in dire need of a roommate, Kook. She wouldn't mind if you couldn't pay rent right now, as long as you're willing to keep the house clean and look after her cat. You can do that, right?"

Of course, Jungkook could. He was an artist; he spent most of his time inside his home, silently drawing whatever came into his mind.

"Huh." Jungkook was still skeptical. "Can't she just hire a maid?"

"Wish it was that easy. She's a mess. Not even her maids can tolerate her shit. Besides, her cat is a total bitch. She scratches anyone that's not her owner."

"I'm not sure..." Jungkook scowled. He wasn't sure if he could live with a stranger. Jungkook was a shy boy; it actually took him a long time to even say 'hello' to Jimin.

"Just think about it, Jungkook..." Jimin smiled warmly at the younger boy. "I swear she's a decent person. Yes, she's messy, but aside from that, she's fine. She doesn't pry on anyone's life; she's quiet, just like you, and oh! She likes banana milk too! I swear, Kook. You'll like her!"

For some reason, Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. He knew Jimin was kind, he's the type of person who always talked about the good qualities of a certain someone, but this was the first time he spoke about someone with such passion.

Jimin continued to talk about you, his lovely best friend. If you could hear him right now, you were sure you'd end up crying. Jimin was indeed the best friend you could ask. He's fiercely loyal.

"It's true, Kook. You'll love her." Taehyung talked about you with the same intensity. He had met you, and he instantly fell in love with you. You were smart and witty.

The couple continued sharing things they loved about you. Jungkook swore he's not easy to convince. The only acceptable reason why he's standing in front of your apartment was that Taehyung and his boyfriend knew the magic of words. They had done an excellent job convincing him.

Jungkook let out an exasperated breath when you still didn't answer the door after his ninth attempt to knock. Truthfully, he was getting pissed off.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

Just as when he was about to leave, the door suddenly opened with so much force. Jungkook was startled.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking, so I slipped down the floor, and I..." You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jungkook to see his reaction.

You were rambling about how this whole situation was so embarrassing, but Jungkook wasn't listening anymore. How could he focus on anything when his heart was beating this fast? Jungkook was pissed before he met your eyes, right now; the irritation he felt was rapidly boiling down to panic when he realized what was happening.

Colors.

Jungkook was used to seeing black and white, so imagine his confusion when the colors suddenly became visible in his eyes.

Nothing made sense to him, but one thing's for sure.

Jungkook had found his soulmate.

[notnctu]

when the snow falls | j.jh

jung jaehyun x reader genre - angst first, fluff later details - childhood best friends!au, ghost!au, platonic relationship, genderneutral!reader, ft. boyfriend johnny warnings - grieving/mourning, mentions of death, lots of crying, explicit language (swearing) word count - 8.3k inspiration - A Christmas Carol synopsis - Jaehyun visits you every holiday season since his death to bring you out of your self isolation and hatred for the one season you both once loved.

a/n - this is for my first collab ever: a taste of winter collab hosted by @dearyongs​​​ & @pastelsicheng​​​ ! again, thank you for letting me participate and i hope this fic brings more warmth for everyone during the winter!! happy holidays everyone & i hope you can check out the rest of the fics in the collab as i will be, they’re written by such amazing writers! :)))

An iridescent frost covers the tall windows of the apartment and a bright white sky greets you this morning. The fallen sheets expose your bare shoulders to the bitter crisp cold air and goosebumps rise to remind you to wear a fucking sweater for once. However, the cold isn’t what bothers you this horrid day as you’re leaping out of bed to glance out at the world. It’s the first thing that you lay eyes on: it covers the streets, it’s falling from the blanket of grey sky, it’s others’ joy when it’s your trauma. What Mother Nature has brought upon this winter season, as she always does this time of the year, is snow. 

The first sign of snowfall marks the first day of your self isolation period until the holidays pass. It marks the anniversary of your best friend’s death and an agonizingly long winter, but in spite of that, it also means the appearance of a rather special guest. A guest that is only visible to you and though resembles much of your passed friend, does not share the same memories as you do. 

“The snow is just so comforting, isn’t it?” Though you live alone, a sudden voice erupts from behind you and has you turning rather quickly to face the truth of this season. Your greatest treasure, yet haunting demise. “Hello, y/n. How has your year been?” Jaehyun stands with a lean at your door frame, his arms crossed at his chest and hair full of fluff. 

“Hello, Jaehyun’s spirit. I happen to hate the snow, if you have forgotten.” Your hip presses against the cold glass and you’re no longer afraid of being half naked in front of what this form of imagination possesses itself to be. 

“Remind me why again.” Jaehyun casually sits on your unmade bed, looking as about your age now. There is a brief silence as you examine how he’s grown with you, you’d imagine this is how he’d look if he was still alive and well.

It would be his third year in college, same as you, possibly studying engineering due to his past fascination with the mechanics of roller coasters. With such a strong jawline and a definite lean built, girls would be running all over him. Not to mention, his dimples remain one of his charms.

Kicking off the icy window, you walk carefully and slowly up to Jaehyun. A hand reaches to caress his cheek, but it goes right through him and leaves your hand to hang in mid-air. This happens every time you see him again, wondering if you can get one last touch of his dewy complexion, and you simply can’t. Despite his ability to touch you, there is no possibility for your senses to travel through to the other side of the supernatural dimension. 

Jaehyun gently rests your hand back to your side and repeats his request, “remind me again why you hate the snow.”

“It’s how you died.” A small croak gets caught in the back of your throat and tears well up to blur your vision. “So when the snow falls, it brings me back to the dreadful memory of me losing you, of you leaving me.” 

“I died from snow? That is so lame.” Jaehyun grumbles and rolls his eyes. 

You chuckle, but the tears roll down your cheeks as if they know no happiness. “You died from a car accident in the snow. Your tires slid, you couldn’t brake … and so, you crashed. Full trauma to the head, an instant death.” 

“Where was I going?” He wasn’t this curious last winter, and so you’re unaware if it’s your mind playing sick tricks on you or if his unrest spirit is this forgetful. You wish it was the latter. 

Choking on your tears, the droplets hit the hardwood floors below you. An overwhelming feeling of melancholy overtakes your chest and you’re suffocating underneath an unknown pressure. Your throat is drier than your mother’s gingerbread cookies, but you swallow the frigid air around you. 

You’re so choked up by your sobbing that it’s too difficult to speak. Any words you say feel like thin ice, ready to crack at the lightest touch. “O-On the way to … my house. You were coming over to tell me a secret.”

“And I never got to tell you.” 

“No, Jaehyun. I’ll never know what you wanted to tell me that day.” 

when the snow falls. 

There has never been a time before Jaehyun and all that you knew, all the memories that fill your brain, every growing pain you could possibly share, was with him and all until it wasn’t. Had there been a time after Jaehyun, you would not have expected it to come as soon as it did.

For the months following his death, you were in denial of his missing presence because every. single. thing. reminded you of him. Jaehyun remained in his assigned seat in school, although it was clearly empty. He lived through others’ mourning stories, where they spoke of fond memories that they shared and things he liked. The worst of them all, you still texted him every day in hopes to see the tiny three dots pop up that he was typing. And the warped reality in your head, the first stage of grief flooding every possible corner, was that he has always just been slow at replying back.

Then, his funeral rolled around and his parents asked you to share one happy memory of him. There were so many, how could you possibly have chosen just one? And so you didn’t. The moment the frame of the church entered your view, your legs stuck to the ground and refused to enter. There was going to be a point when you entered the building filled with crying people and a gripping, horrid smell of death and you wouldn’t be able to forget it. That scary thought, not only frightened you, but angered you. 

The large attendance of people walked past you as teary eyes blinked up at the dark wooden frame of the door, but every one of them had never visited him for more than once when he was alive. His older cousins that had forgotten about him when they flew away for college, his acquaintances from piano lessons who never bothered to remember his full name, his old friends from primary school that he had lost connection with after graduation, they were all here.

And you can’t help, but fester a fueling frustration in the pit of your stomach and as it grew into your chest in the matter of seconds, you wondered the single thought that picked up your feet to run home: where were they when he was alive? 

After a year and the appearance of Jaehyun’s ghost became less of a shock during winter, you were stuck in an odd and uneasy place of what if’s. Talking to him once a year was never enough, texting his old number was never enough. It was just never enough.

Missing him grew into a dark sense of yearning, longing, bargaining. Long nights of twisting and tossing in your bed, many thoughts and endless possibilities ran through your unhealthy thoughts. The description and police report of his accident played like a reel in darkest contemplations. 

The first year of college had to be the hardest to go through without him and thus, aiding in your regrets of not cherishing him enough when he was around. A rabbit hole of universe paths drove you wild, wishing and hoping that you could turn back time and stop him from coming over in the middle of a blizzard. And the one lasting thought still haunts you to your present: if only you hadn’t encouraged him that night, he wouldn’t have died. 

The saddest part has barely been acknowledged, even by yourself. That this one tragedy tainted the one holiday you two loved the most --- Christmas. Every year since his passing, you locked yourself in your room for two weeks before the holiday and waited through it all. Truthfully, there was nothing in the universe that was going to allow you to enjoy the holiday when it wasn’t with him. Even his ghost, who very randomly popped up on a December day and cluelessly never brings much comfort as the live him did during this season.

Jolly holiday music lost their joyous sound and became awfully low tempo. The bright red and green signature colors of Christmas became dull and rather grey; the long strings of colorful lights that hang from houses and around large trees were absolutely drained of their color. The warmth of the fireplace went cold. The cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies no longer entertained and lost their spark.

The Christmas themed decorations that covered the windows of shops, the city, your own house, became an overwhelming sore sight to look at. The love from your loved ones… you couldn’t feel anything remotely close to love anymore, just meaningless affection. The one gift that the Earth blessed your region with, snow, became the one petrifying thing that it had to offer. And your favoritism for the holiday, the so-called ‘Christmas Spirit’, slowly died out, along with Jaehyun. 

Now that it’s been three years since his passing, you’re here spending your third lonely holiday season inside your apartment discussing your yearly recap with your ghostly best friend. 

“That ridiculous final exam lowered my grade and I walked out of that class retaining none of the information. When will I ever need to know about pirates in the 1800’s?” The chocolate wrapper crinkles in your fist as you finish your overly passionate recollection of the most useless class you could have taken this whole year.

Jaehyun sits by your side, facing you as he hugs his knees close to his chest. A small grin dots the dimple on his left cheek when you peer over at the huddled boy and the sad reminiscent glisten in your eye does not go unnoticed. “You used to love pirates. Dressed up like one for Halloween and went up to every house yelling,” Jaehyun clears his throat and perks up, ready to perform.

A balled fist in the air, paired with a look of utter gusto and passion, Jaehyun speaks in an attempt to horribly reenact your once embarrassing pirate impression. “Argh! You scoundrel, give me all the treasures in your possession… preferably chocolate sweets.” He holds his stomach as he bursts into a fit of his baritone laughter. His wide mouth grows into such a big, open smile that his eyelashes dance on his glowing cheeks. 

“For a ghost, you sure look like someone who’s very much alive.” Naturally, you’d swat lightly at his knee or arm whenever he would joke around. However, the pain of your hand passing right through him breaks this habit and you’re left scoffing at the way Jaehyun is consumed with laughter.

“You know, for someone who is alive… you sure look a bit … lifeless. When was the last time you were happy, y/n?” Jaehyun finally settles down and gently nudges at your elbow. 

His question hits you like a wall of bricks. Unexpected and completely straightforward, but that’s just always been the way he is. “This past weekend when I turned in my last assignment for the semester.” 

“No. The last time you were genuinely happy, not relieved. You mentioned a boyfriend, right?” 

Rolling your eyes, you grow a bit silent and annoyed at his comment. “Listen, hopeless romantic. Not every relationship is perfect sunrays and gushy unconditional love.” Perhaps, your gaze drops down to your hands and the wrinkled wrapper between your fingers has worn out from your fidgeting. 

Johnny Suh. If you could move mountains for this man, you would. It all started due to an accidental happenstance of you abruptly walking into your campus’ coffee shop to seek shelter from the rain and him, the attractive barista behind the counter, chasing after you in a stained apron and an immensely strong aroma of coffee beans. Jaehyun practically swooned over hearing how you two met, hearts in his pupils and a dreamy grin resting fondly as he attentively listened. 

Jaehyun has always wanted a relationship, though he did have many admirers in high school, he never had the opportunity to experience one true love and to play out every sappy romantic thing rom-coms taught him. Hearing about your love life is the closest thing he can get to it, unfortunate for him, but fortunate that his best friend still has some romance in them.

Nevertheless, it’s only been a few months together. Though Johnny has seen intimate parts of you, he’s never experienced a winter with you and frankly, he won’t ever experience one with you if you keep this up. 

“Johnny doesn’t make you happy, then why are you with him?” Jaehyun knows Johnny makes you feel something that is hard for you to put into words. He also knows the type of person you are, pushing your buttons to get you to defend something you love. Boldly. Loudly. Strongly. He knows how to get you to spit out words of truth, even when they’re difficult.

“My partner is the literal definition of happiness, okay?” The defensiveness drives your assertiveness further. “The last time I was happy was when…” your eyes are frantically examining the floor for any source of focus as a highlight reel of this whole year flashes through your mind.

“... On my birthday, he planned me a picnic. Bought me roses, the whole grand scheme of romance. I started to cry, out of happiness… it was the first time in a while that the reason behind my tears was something good.” There’s somewhat of an epiphany when you finish your sentence. Your voice gets lost in your train of thought as the blissful scene plays out. 

“Why were you crying?” Jaehyun snatches the distracting wrapper from your fingers, it being unrecognizable from the wear and tear. It causes you to meet Jaehyun’s round eyes: empty, but not sad. They’re lost, yet filled with purpose.

Jaehyun has always been able to open up the darkest parts of your heart. “Because it reminded me of the time when you and I walked up that steep hill over on Fifth Street… and we forgot the picnic blanket. But it didn’t matter because after the strenuous journey, all we wanted was to sit down and enjoy some fucking sandwiches, along with some hot chocolate your mom packed us.” 

“y/n, you cried over the memory of sandwiches and exercise? That’s so---”

“Before you insult me by calling me lame,” you bring your finger to stop him mid-way and narrow your eyes, “I was so happy to be able to share our same experience with someone else. Even though you’re gone, I can still have these happy moments with other people.” 

Then, Jaehyun gathers both of your hands to hold and brings them to his soft lips. Everything about him feels cold, like a harsh chill that bites at your skin. In spite of it all, his delicate kiss on your knuckles somehow feel warm and slightly comforting. Jaehyun peers up with kind eyes, “you’re almost there. I will do everything I can to get you there.” 

Blinking at him with confusion, your expression asks the questions for you. When he sets your hands in his lap, a soft pat on the back of your hand reassures you. “Can we bake Christmas cookies?” 

Rolling your eyes, you tear your hands away from him. He leaves you with unspoken words and an oddly comforting feeling, but it’s not enough to dissipate your deeply rooted dislike for this particular holiday. “You ask this every year.” Getting up, you walk towards your bedroom to get away from feeling too vulnerable.

Jaehyun watches your back intently as you’re stumbling over your feet. He whispers to himself, “and I think this year is going to be the last year I’ll ask for it.” And a hopeful smile appears joyously as he anticipates the storm before reaching still waters. 

The sound of the doorbell awakens you and Jaehyun is nowhere to be seen. He comes and goes as he wishes, however, he’d usually accompany you during the mornings. You’re particularly sluggish, finding it difficult to adjust to the blinding white sky outside as snow continues to drift upon the city. 

“Good morning, gumdrop.” Your boyfriend is rather chirpy today. Johnny engulfs your fragile body in his long arms and you’re lost in his scent of peppermint bark. 

“This was unexpected.” His shirt muffles your tiny voice and Johnny is setting down bags of groceries on your kitchen countertop. 

“I texted you last night that I was coming over to do some grocery shopping for you. Did you sleep early?” Your very helpful boyfriend starts unloading all the parcels of fresh produce and your favorite snacks. However, there is a slight tinge of annoyance and possibly it’s due to the fact you weren’t expecting to see anyone during your isolation. Johnny couldn’t have known though.

A deep sigh escapes your lips and you walk over to stop his movements. A hand holds his arm and the other intertwines with his own, but you stand under him with the sweetest smile you could wear during the holiday season. “How is it that your mom invited me to your family holiday party, but tells me that you’re not going to be there?” 

Your smile automatically falls from your lips and a hand retracts from his warmth. It’s the sudden truth that you must face, the confession of your sadness that you’ll eventually need to tell your partner. Wondering how he’s going to take the news, your mom probably gave him a brief breakdown about how you’ve been this way for the past few years now. 

Nonetheless, Johnny has always been bold with his statements and though you’ve adjusted to his abruptness, this one is hard to give a quick answer back to. So as you’re racking how to present your dark narrative, Johnny sets you down on the couch with the utmost gentleness. You don’t even feel the cushion underneath you when the million different answers streamline their way into your brain.

Johnny notices your frantic eyes and unfocused gaze, growing a bit concerned at how cold your skin feels at his touch. Taking off his sweatshirt, he carefully slips it over your shaking figure. When the softness of the polyester cotton blend brushes upon your bare arms, you’re snapped back facing a worried expression.

And you say the one thing on your mind, the only thing you can think of in your scattered brain. “Jaehyun died during this time of year, so it just makes me very emotionally unstable to… participate in any festive events. I’d rather be alone, the whole holiday season.” 

Johnny nods, but his face remains with his eyebrows together and lips pressed into a tight line. He’s well aware of who Jaehyun was and means to you. Though you don’t talk much about him, your eyes light up with a bright twinkle whenever you do. It’s like the world spins ‘round and everything feels restored. Johnny knows enough about your good friend to deduct how hard it must be for you during the winters. 

“Can I help you in any way?” Johnny peers over at you with a small smile, and you wish there is something in your decaying heart to keep it up forever. 

“I hate to say it, but please just leave me alone for the winter.” Flopping on his lap, you’re burying your face in your hands to cower away from seeing your sunshine hurt. There are no more sugar coated kind words for you to pick and choose from.

While Johnny can understand how difficult it must be for you, he still holds onto a sliver of hope that you’ll come around. “Come on, don’t be such a Grinch. No one should be alone for Christmas.” 

Groaning, you sit up and roll your eyes at the familiar references. “Listen, Cindy Lou Who. Don’t call me that.”

“It’s still a cute nickname, you don’t think?” Johnny snickers lightly, but your expression turns rather grim and serious. A faint overcast of melancholy washes over your expression as you’re staring off into your memories again.

In a faint voice, your voice is barely above a whisper, “that used to be one of Jaehyun’s favorite movies.” Your arms drop from your puffed up chest, but Johnny catches your hand and kisses your fingertips.

“What was yours?” Johnny keeps the atmosphere as light and playful while he still can. 

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Ironically fitting and that’s one of the sole reasons you don’t watch holiday movies anymore. There have been too many parallels with your life and the wrenched holiday. As twisted as the joke may seem, you’ve lived your own nightmare before Christmas, except you never got the happy ending to it all. It’s like a nightmare that continues and you can’t escape it. 

Having said, Johnny pulls you up to stand and draws you into the biggest hug. “I can’t leave you alone, even if I tried my very best. I still get butterflies every time you smile at me, so you think I wouldn’t be addicted to that feeling?” 

“Johnny…” This man is in love with you until the ends of this Earth, until the horizon stretches so far that it’s unimaginable to see where it stops. 

“I’ll respect your wishes as much as I can, but know that it’s not the best form of healing.” The final word causes a chill to run down your spine. It implies that you’re still hurting, although he’s not wrong, it’s rather disheartening to hear someone else speak it aloud. “I’ll come around less.” 

“If I’m grumpy, then you’ll know why. And don’t try to shove the whole Christmas spirit act on me, I don’t want to hear a single thing about it! I can’t spend a Christmas without Jaehyun.” Johnny squeezes your shoulders at your bold declaration.

“You can’t or you won’t?” A painful tick at your heart leaves you speechless at his question. 

For as long as you could remember, every Christmas was spent with Jaehyun. Picking out a tree for both of your families and getting lost together between the evergreens brought laughter and excitement. Baking cookies and drawing the ugliest faces in tacky colorful frosting always happened a few days before the holiday. Drinking hot chocolate by his family’s fireplace and watching Christmas movies were one of your favorite activities. Christmas Eve was always so special, where you and Jaehyun made it tradition to open your gifts from each other right when the clock struck midnight. 

Then everything simply stopped. And when you tried to participate in those same activities, selfishness and guilt preoccupied your heart. What do any of those things mean without Jaehyun? Jaehyun was the reason you loved Christmas as much as you did. Then, his death became the reason you hated it as much as you do.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Johnny knows he’s hit a nerve, he can see it in your glossy eyes and subtle drop in the corners of your mouth. There is no protest from the taller man when he accepts his sweatshirt without a complaint. The bitter cold air bites at your bare shoulders again and you’re practically existing in its lack of warmth. Gathering the rest of his belongings, you two bid a kiss goodbye and shut the door.

It’s almost a relief that he’s gone and the tear runs down your cheek when your back hits the door. Suddenly, Jaehyun appears across the living room leaning on the door frame to your bedroom. “He seems like a nice guy.” 

“He is.” There is a hang at the end of your sentence and Jaehyun walks toward you. A few sniffs fill the empty apartment, but you’re rubbing away any sign of sadness from your face.

“But?” 

“But, he’s so optimistic about… everything. He lives by the sun and every waking day, he just lives it to the fullest. There’s nothing in the world for this man to possibly understand how sad I feel.” It’s the heaviness in your voice that has your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach. 

Jaehyun’s freezing hands graze your chin and as he lets go, his stare doesn’t leave yours. “Learn from him.” Your best friend’s ghastly voice reminds you that he’s not real. He’s a ghost. He’s very much gone and not for a split second, should you be wanting to cave into his embrace or else, you’ll hit the floor hard. Nevertheless, you’re entirely vulnerable and the next few words that leave Jaehyun’s mouth causes your throat to close up.

“Keep him close. y/n, he is the sun.” It’s a moment you thought you’d never witness, your best friend complimenting your significant partner. Moreover, it hurts to think about how great of friends Jaehyun and Johnny could have been. “To be very honest, you need some heat this winter.”

“Then, what were you?” It’s the curiosity that nips at your tongue as it leaves no space for a pause. The thumping of your heart being so loud in the dead silence, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t have a heart to beat recklessly as yours. 

Jaehyun smirks and chuckles fondly, despite how desperate and serious you may have sounded. “I was a pain in the ass.”

Scoffing, you break the immensely intense eye contact. “You still are. This whole haunting thing is very creepy.” Gesturing his entire being in front of you, he just looks so alive and breathing. Before Jaehyun, you always thought ghosts were floating entities with a white transparency. But your best friend stands before you, well aged and all together. 

It still tosses you into shambles as to why Jaehyun exists, but you’ve given up on figuring out his purpose. He could be a form of your own imagination for all you care, perhaps you’ve grown so sad that you started to seek things. 

Companionship from the one person you wish was still alive?

Like before, you’ve always spent Christmas with Jaehyun… alive or in ghost form.

It’s another one of those long days that seem to never end. The bright white sky seems unchanging, stark with a dusty and imminent endless overcast of snow. It’s blinding and you’re regretting the moment you overlooked the curtain blinds at the department store.  

Your phone has already been lost somewhere underneath your bed and there isn’t a single desire to reach for it. Missed calls pile up, voicemails clutter your inbox, texts flood your messages, and your social media notifications fill your screen. Despite everyone’s effort to contact you, there is no sense of joyous cordial nature to even glance at them.

Jaehyun has been appearing more frequently and staying for longer periods of time. The conversations bring an empty comfort, most of the times you feel the need to remind yourself that you’re not actually talking to someone, are you?

“What’s that sad look in your eyes?” He startles you when you’re off looking vacantly out the window. Your mind has been completely distracted lately by meaningless thoughts and the sweetest reels of Jaehyun that have turned blue.

The more you wrap yourself in your white sheets, the less you can feel any source of warmth. And perhaps you haven’t realized that you no longer felt any heat the past few days, that you’re at a freezing point and it’s made you numb.

“Not sure what you mean.” Your voice remains dull and monotone, lifeless almost. Jaehyun takes a seat against the window and for the first time, you can see right through him.

“It’s not your fault, y/n.” Is he a mind reader too? The thought that always circles your mind when Christmas draws near is not only that Jaehyun is gone forever, but how you could have prevented it all. The guilt eats you up and no matter how hard you’re searching for acceptance, it slips away from you before you have a chance.

When you don’t answer, Jaehyun heads over to your bed and he’s alarmed at how cold your hands are. “It was never your fault.” Your best friend pulls you into a hug, but it can barely be felt. What kind of hug can’t be felt?

“I never said it was.”

“No, but you thought about it.” The chilly draft causes you to shiver and it’s hard for you to concentrate on anything else besides the night of his death.

“I should have stopped you from coming over.” Although you’ve confessed this many times to him before, it never gets easier to say. Jaehyun sighs and ultimately frowns at your tears slipping from your eyes again. Like the snow that drifts from the heavens, your tears know no end to their downfall. It’s become too natural for them to appear. The closer it gets to Christmas, the harder it is to stop from crying.

“It’s hard for me to speak about it since we don’t remember much of the same moments---”

“Jaehyun! I remember that night as clear as it was just yesterday that it happened.” There’s no reason to yell, but a strong sense of pain erupts from your chest.

He’s so calm at your sudden outburst, turning his head to face you with a deadpan expression. “You weren’t there, y/n. You were home, safe and sound as you should have been. I’m more than grateful that you’re the one alive.”

“I’m not!” But when the confession leaves your lips, you’re shaking and fearful. The entire room is stiff and silent. You couldn’t even believe what you had just said, wondering if that is anything close to truth. You look up at Jaehyun, who blinks at you with furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. “I mean,” you clear your throat in the midst of the tense atmosphere. “I could have saved you.”

“You’re not a hero and I didn’t need saving when I was already gone.” He taps his temples lightly, “full trauma to the head. It was just my time to go.”

“The secret. I wanted to know so bad that I didn’t stop you from coming in a snowstorm!” Jaehyun pats your head in an attempt to soothe your aching heart.

“And I wanted to tell you just as bad that I didn’t care about the snowstorm. y/n, stop blaming yourself for something that happened to me. The universe is much more complex than that, give it some credit.”

“You’re even philosophical as a ghost? Give me a fucking break.” Groaning, you pull the sheets over your head to somehow run away from the conversation.

Jaehyun lies down next to you, smiling cheekily to himself and glancing over at the lump that you had become underneath the blankets. “Do you remember the time I taught you how to ride a bike?”

“I thought it was your dad who taught me.” You grumble, tossing away the sheets to glance over at him. It always puzzled you how Jaehyun never remembered the same memories as you do, and even if you did, one of you remembered it differently.

“He was probably there as supervision. I was the one who helped you take off your training wheels and strap on your impressively thick knee pads.” You’re lying on your elbows now, fists pressing into your cheeks and a fond attentive gaze upon Jaehyun’s resting figure. He’s staring up at the ceiling that protects you two above, yet can cave in at any moment.

Dimples dip into his round supple cheeks as his toothy smile comes into view, reliving the happy memory. “You rang your little bell so many times that day.”

“Because I was scared!” You protest, muttering something incoherent. “Didn’t we go downhill when I said I wasn’t ready?”

“We went downhill because you said you were ready.” His hair ruffles in your sheets when he turns to face you, and he just takes your breath away. It’s the stars in his dark eyes that sweep you off your feet, like the gleaming star on top of a tree. The color that oozes from his smile, like Christmas lights that line a rooftop, make it hard not to stare. Jaehyun looks just like Christmas, the most wonderful thing of the year. In someway, he resembled an angel or the soft sheet of snow ready to fall right through.

You’re encompassed by overwhelming effervescent emotions from listening and watching Jaehyun glow and gleam. “Then, what?”

Jaehyun’s low chuckle illuminates the room, dazzling the boring grey interior. “Little ol’ you, hurt yourself real bad that day, scrapes and wounds you thought you’d never heal from. You didn’t talk to me for a week, but you ended up learning how to ride a bike.”

“Is that right?”

Jaehyun rests on his side now, only an elbow supporting his body and he’s leaning in close to your face, you’re almost too sure you could feel a breath on your lips. “No matter how painful it gets, I’m always here to push you through it all.”

When your heart beats sporadically at his proximity, you didn’t realize that you are holding in a breath, being quite afraid that if you let it out, it would simply blow him away for the night. And you’re not ready for him to leave you again.

Christmas Eve;

It had to be a miracle that anyone got a hold of you this week when Johnny comes practically banging at your door. Though you are so close to ignoring his loud thumping, the sound of your boyfriend’s soft sniffles alarms you greatly.

“y/n, holy shit!” It’s deja vu when you’re in his arms again, a horribly warped version of it when the smell of peppermint bark tickles your nostrils disgustingly. “I thought something happened to you. You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”

“My one wish for Christmas was to be left alone and I meant it.” The attitude in your voice becomes jarringly evident and Johnny blinks back at you with a new found annoyance as well.

“Can you at least think of the other people around you?” He holds your shoulders lightly, but staring into his eyes seems to be harder to do lately. Jaehyun appears on the couch, lying flat on his stomach and a hand resting underneath his chin. This is no longer a private conversation, but you learned long ago that no one else can see him.

“Who are you talking about? My family? Because they’ve all given up on me.” This is the first time Johnny has seen you act so cold and distant, yet entirely vulnerable. You’re stripped of everything that you usually hide in --- oversized clothes, happy smiles, and a beaming warmth.

All Johnny ever wants is for you to be loved, not only by him, but by the world. And interestingly enough, he loved you for your vulnerability and your rawness. This is until he realizes, in this moment, that it stems from your trauma of losing Jaehyun.

“What about me, y/n? I’m still here.” Johnny is frantic, and by all means, hurt by your aloofness. Brushing off his hands from your body, you’re taking several steps away from him.

“And why are you still here when I kept telling you to leave me alone? Whenever I was upset, Jaehyun always gave me space! Haven’t ever thought about how that is something I need?” You’re saying nonsensical statements that are fueled by anger and annoyance.

He’s pushing your limits and for once, you’re pushing him away. But this isn’t new to you, in fact, you’ve pushed so many people away just like this and that’s why they’ve decided to just let you be.

Johnny is taken aback, “you know, I feel like I’m competing with Jaehyun and I’ve never even met him.”

You scoff and throw your arms in the air, visibly in disbelief at what your boyfriend is saying to you. May you lose your temper, you’re unsure about the future of this relationship. Yet, something in your cruel and painful heart no longer cared, snapping your wits and patience at your beloved.

“What are you saying?” You’re pacing back and forth, fuming with an inexplicable infuriation. Jaehyun catches your eye, and for a brief moment, you’re holding eye contact with him instead. “Jaehyun is dead,” facing Johnny now, you say words that jumble in your chest, regardless of their true meanings, “and even if he was alive, there would be no competition.”

“Because you were always going to choose him over everyone else in your life, is that right? Exactly like how you do now.” Johnny’s words sting like daggers at your skin, worse than the layer of frost that bites at you for the past two weeks.

“Please, don’t attack me for hurting.” With that, your voice breaks and cracks all over. Your tears hit the ground without you feeling them run down your cheeks.

Johnny is quick to wipe them away, not minding that his hands will now be wet from your salty droplets. He instantly regrets it all, the unwarranted questions, the fighting, the barging in unexpectedly. It pains him more to see you like this.

“I apologize. I’m sorry that I’m not saying the kindest words to you when you need to hear them the most.” Your partner is frowning, a true rare sight to see. “But, you’re still grieving and there is going to have to be a time that you move on.”

It’s one of those tip of the iceberg moments or when the ball finally hits the ground and a rush of cathartic enthusiasm washes over you. However, you’re not happy. You’re not even remotely close to happiness. You’re fucking sad, you’re aching with a pain so deeply rooted that it isolates you, that it rips apart anything that used to bring you joy.

And this causes you to scream your lungs out, sobs that choke you up. “I can’t! You don’t understand, no one understands! I just fucking can’t. He was my best friend and that night… he was going to tell me something.” Jaehyun can’t bear to hear your piercing wails, as he’s disappeared completely from the setting. When you’re panicked and searching for him, you only see Johnny staring back at you with a very concerned expression.

“And I will never know what he wanted to tell me.” Your tone grows soft and rather delicate, like a sad realization at the possibility that the secret died with Jaehyun that night.

“Some things are better left unknown. Do you really think you’ll feel better knowing?”

“Listen to him, y/n.” Jaehyun randomly appears next to Johnny’s stature. He stands a few inches shorter than him, but the sight of them together has you blinking in awe.

You’re darting between the two of them, “I don’t know what will make me feel better.”

“Come, tonight. Your whole family wants to see you for the one holiday that brings people together.” But when Johnny steps forward, you’re taking a step back.

“Please, just go.” With an assertive point to the door, your head does not lift up to watch your boyfriend leave. Despite every person you’ve done this to, Johnny’s hurts the most. His flame dies out tonight, providing no sense of security or heat. And with a toss of his arms of exasperation, he shuts your front door and leaves without a goodbye, without wishing you a merry Christmas.

Jaehyun calls your name, but you’re rushing to your bedroom and slamming the door shut. “Don’t you dare travel through the wall.”

Your apartment has grown so dark due to the shorten winter days. It’s pitch black all around you and the sky is no longer a deafening white. It’s the first time you notice the dark blue scattered clouds and the intricate snowflakes that drift carefully down to the streets. And, you’re all alone in the quietness. You truly are isolated every Christmas.

“y/n, let’s talk.” Jaehyun is beyond fed up with your behavior, that has to be the last straw. This is the first year since his death that he’s seen the evident spark in your eye, the hope that is hiding behind your depression. He sees it in the way Johnny looks at you, like you’re the greatest present he could receive in life. In your proclamation, as hard as it was to witness, is a spirit that wishes to be freed. There was a chance this year. There still is one.

“Jaehyun, you left me! You left all alone, and no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about you, it never works. In the end, no one is here for me like how you were.” Hands in your hair, you’re losing yourself at a rapid rate. It hurts to keep your eyes open, tears sting as they well up around the rims.

“Find a part of me in the people around you.” The door to your bedroom swings open and Jaehyun takes note of you by the window again. You want to leave, you want to be out there and he knows, before you can actually realize it yourself. You’re turning to face him and in the dark, he looks solid. He looks so real and whole.

“How do I do that?” It’s a genuine question that you’ve pondered before, but never feeling like you had the strength to do so. You’re always dwelling on your past with Jaehyun, indulging in the sacred memories only you two shared.

“What are things that you associate me with?” He is found leaning against your door frame again, hands are shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans.

You say the first thing on your mind, “snow.” When the words hit the air, your ceiling light flickers briefly. Jaehyun doesn’t flinch, however, still focused on your crying figure. Snow, the first sign of snowfall is when he appears for the winter.

“What else?” He encourages.

“Familiarity.” The light flashes again, for a mere second longer this time before it resumes darkness. Familiarity, for he grew up by your side for as long as you could remember.

There is an odd feeling that enters the room and you’re fearful of the unknown. But, Jaehyun’s cadence doesn’t falter, he’s not distracted by the random spurts of light. And if anything, it all could be his doing. “Keep going.”

“Comfort.” Flicker. “Warmth. Love. Excitement.” With each word, the light builds stronger and stronger. You’re speaking memories into existence now, “making snow angels until it got dark, laughing until our stomachs hurt, watching movies until the clock struck midnight, dancing until our legs gave out!”

Streams run down your face and you’re yelling until your throat feels raw, but you don’t wish to stop as the light glows brighter and brighter with each spoken word.

As you listen to every listed attribute and memory, you recognize a central theme in all of them and one thing that Jaehyun embodies, the one thing he’s always been associated with.

“Christmas.” A shaky breath exhales and a loud spark pierces your ears. The light illuminates intensely all around you, lighting up the darkest corners of your room and blinding you more than the sky has been lately.

“Jaehyun?” Closing your eyes, you can see the brightness through your eyelids and you’re beyond confused as to what is happening. When you mindlessly reach for his hand, you actually feel it and your heart is soaring due to strange unquestionable physics.

Jaehyun intertwines your hand in his own and caresses your face gently. For once, he doesn’t feel cold. He’s blazing hot, melting away the long days of isolation. “Open your eyes, y/n.”

What lies before you is an incredible, marvelous sight. Snow dusts the roof of your family’s house as green, red, yellow bulbs light the frame of it. Your parents really went all out; round snowmen sit perfectly together on your lawn. A decorative wreath hangs at the front door and a distinct chuckle catches your attention.

From the window that looks into your kitchen, your mother rolls a sheet of dough on the counter as clouds of flour erupt around her. Your father is preoccupied at the stove, with the silliest gimmicks for decorating the feast they’re about to hold. Silver tinsel line the dinner table with a festive table cloth draped upon it. The remarkable tree shines in the center of the living room, a glimmering star on top. 

“I know we probably won’t see y/n again this Christmas…” The sound of your mother’s voice rings a bell in your yearning heart and Jaehyun is gazing at you with a wondrous look in his eyes. The grip on his hand is tight, your breath enters the night in puffs of smoke, and regardless of this all being real or imaginary, you’re so immersed in this reality that he knows you’re anticipating what your family has to say.

“... but something about this year really makes me miss them.” Your mother puts the rolling pin off to the side and rests her hand on the kitchen counter, trying to hold back any form of her own tears from falling.

“May Jaehyun watch over them tonight, our little angel doesn’t deserve to be alone.”

Your dad walks over to embrace your mother in a long hug, kissing the top of her head gently. “Merry Christmas, y/n.” Your father speaks into the air, without the knowledge of you outside, he’s thinking of you.

Something in your heart shatters, but it’s entirely different from the pain you’ve felt over the years following Jaehyun’s death. It’s a warm, bubbly feeling that spreads across your chest and you’re covering your mouth out of pure shock at the sight of your parents.

Your parents, who you’ve neglected every holiday season, still think of you. You recognize the ingredients that scatter the table, they make your favorite dish every year in hopes you’ll come join them. 

Jaehyun whispers, “y/n, know that I’m always going to be here. I may physically be gone, but I live in your heart and the joyous memories we’ve shared together. I live through the many people who love you now, through Christmas. This spirit is also very much alive in the other people around you.”

When you peel your eyes from the scene of your parents, the vision suddenly disappears and you’re facing Jaehyun right back in your cold, empty, dark apartment. But you wish the moment lasted a little longer. For the first time in a long time, you wish to be with your loved ones. You wish to celebrate Christmas with the people who still care about you, the ones that are still alive and well.

“What if I’m not ready?”

“This signifies my final push down the hill. You’re all strapped up in your knee pads, y/n. You’re never truly going to be ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from trying.” Jaehyun pats your head lovingly and mimics the motions of securing a helmet on your head.

You’re letting go of his hand, running around quickly in search for the appropriate outerwear for the snow. It’s like a switch went off in your heart and a cathartic feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

Every Christmas since his passing, you thought it was best to be alone. You thought it was selfish to live your favorite holiday season without your best friend, that you lost the spirit of Christmas.

However, this entire time… Jaehyun’s ghost has been a reminder that the Christmas spirit has always been alive. It’s not about the enthusiastic festive events or the cheerful themed activities or the distinct colorful decorations, it’s about the appreciation and love you have for the people who have made your year so special. You’ve associated the holiday so much with your best friend, that you’ve lost sight of it in your family, your current friends, your own boyfriend.

When you’re rushing out the door, you stop in your tracks and peer back at Jaehyun leaning against your door frame, just as he appeared a few weeks ago. He has the warmest, brightest smile on his face, “y/n, I think I finally remember the secret I wanted to tell you.” You’re afraid of the answer and the outside world, but your hand doesn’t slip from the door handle. Could it really be? The long anticipated secret that has been gnawing at your conscience since his death?

Nevertheless, he’s giggling and holding his stomach slightly from the immense amount of joyous laughter. “I wanted to tell you that I... finally learned how to shave.”  

At first, you’re stunned at the simplicity of the beheld secret. All this time, you thought it had been something so meaningful, something so mind blowing, that needing to know practically destroyed your mental state. Then, a wholehearted and genuine laugh erupts from inside of you and you’re lighting up the darkest parts of yourself. Jaehyun looks at you fondly, like a beauty that he hasn’t seen in awhile. 

“That’s fucking it? You came out in the middle of a blizzard to tell me you learned how to shave? How lame.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “when did I ever need an extremely valid reason to see you?” The laughter falls short at his confession and in the midst of all this enthusiasm, you bid him the softest smile. His purpose has been fulfilled, as the best version of you he’s always known and loved stands before him at last. 

“I guess... you’re right. What’s going to happen to you now?”

“I’ll always be here for Christmas, even when you’re old and grey surrounded by the warmth of your loved ones in front of a large, extravagant Christmas tree. When the snow falls, I’ll be here.” Jaehyun’s dimple smile is the lasting image you see, the one you’ve always hoped to remember him by.  

“Merry Christmas, Jung Jaehyun… I--”

“Love you too, y/n. Merry Christmas.” He ushers you out the door with a small kiss on your knuckles.

That is the last time you ever see him again. Now, when the snow falls, it marks the anniversary of your long awaited healing, the journey to acceptance, and the beloved memory of your best friend. May you never lose the spirit of Christmas and the warmth from your loved ones.

[vanderlindemorgans]

Mr. Perfectly Fine

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Two weeks after breaking up with you, you're picking up the pieces of your heart that had been broken by your now ex-boyfriend Javier Peña. You want answers, a clear reason as to why things fell apart. The only problem is that Javier refuses to even acknowledge your existence

Warnings: A little bit of period-typical sexism, but not much, Javier being an asshole, mentions of prostitution, some low level typical Narcos themes

Authors Note: So this idea has been swimming around in my head ever since the song was released last week. I already had a Bad Breakup fic for Javi planned but I’ve decided to extend it into three parts! Also reader speaks in English bc I do not understand a word of Spanish other than that one line in Ultraviolence. None of this is beta read, so there’s bound to be a few mistakes - if I get anything really wrong then let me know. 

Part 2 | MASTERLIST

The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. From the moment someone walked in they could feel it, the stifling air of awkwardness surrounding every single person in the room as they pretended to carry on with their work, averting their eyes to the spectacle presented in front of them, a war of agitation rife between two agents sitting across the room from each other as well as the unfortunate Steve Murphy who just happened to sit between you two. From your end it was simple silent fury, directed right across the room to where your partner, or rather, ex-partner, Javier Peña was seated at his own desk, casually leafing through mountains of paperwork and suspect photos as if you weren’t practically shooting daggers at him from across the way. 

He wasn’t doing anything, and that was exactly the problem - you wanted him to do something, say something, anything, if only it would show that he even gave a damn about the situation at all. But he never did. Every morning when he walked into work carrying a black coffee in his hands, his top shirt buttons hanging loose as they always seemed to be and his hair mustled as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly, he said nothing. He walked past you as if you weren’t even there, ignoring your stares and crashing down at his desk, ready to continue the endless chase for Pablo Escobar. And it infuriated you. Oh lord, how it made you burn. With every refusal of acknowledgement he gave, you became even more tempted to march right over to him and strike him across his stupid handsome face. You never did, of course, and you never would. Physical confrontation just wasn’t your style. Nevertheless, the mere thought of such did bring you a small bit of joy to your broken little soul. 

Things had been going like this for two weeks now. You hadn’t expected much on the first morning back in the office after what had happened between you. A part of you wanted him to come grovelling to you, insisting that he’d made a mistake and begging for you to take him back. That in itself was nothing more than a fantasy: Javier Peña was too proud to grovel. If anything, his behaviour shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest. He was the one who broke up with you over a 27 second phone call, after all. 

Despite taking that into consideration, you thought by now you would have heard something from him. He’d have to talk to you eventually since you two were working the same case. Apparently no, because it appeared that he went out of his way to deliver every piece of correspondence meant for you through to Murphy, letting him act as a sort of unwilling middle man between the two of you. You knew that Steve already felt awkward enough having to be in the same room with the two of you whilst this was all going on, so your sympathy for him deepened when he was thrust into the even more awkward position of messenger. Sometimes you swore he made up fake meetings with Messina to attend to or new leads to investigate just so he could get away from the suffocating air of hate around you and Javi. And really, who could blame him?

You felt your nose twitch in annoyance as you trained your eyes forward to him, periodically looking down at various files of intel to keep up the facade that you were indeed working, though you eyes were across the room for most of the time, searching for any sign of emotion on his face. Nothing, zilch, not a single trace, his expression only showcasing general indifference, as if nothing were wrong at all. You gripped your hand tightly around the edge of your pen, thinking of everything you wished you could say to him. How’s your heart after breaking mine, Javi? For your information, ever since you pulled that bullshit on the phone, I’ve been miserable as all fucking hell. Before all that happened, I wanted to try. I was even ready to try to forgive you after that stupid fight, but you just had to make that call. You know what? I’d actually hate you less if you just acted like you cared a little that we broke up. But noooo, you’re just Mr. Perfectly Fine, what with your ignoring me and your casual cruelty, your always showing up at just the right time, and your insincerity, and the way you think everything fucking revolves around you. Well, I’ll tell you something Javi - I’m done! Absolutely done with you and your shit. Jump off a cliff for all I care!

“I’ll be back later on, gonna go follow up on a few leads” your thoughts were cut off by Javier’s abrupt announcement, your eyes gracing themselves upwards to watch him hastily scoop his jacket off the back of his chair and skulk his way out of the office. Every bitter word you wanted to say to him burned on your tongue, though you only managed to settle on a simple yet seething glare while his eyes glazed over you, rushing himself out of the room as quickly as humanly possible. You noticed Murphy look over his shoulder like he was about to say something but it was too late - Javi was already long gone. 

_______

Letting out a low groan of frustration, you slammed the door to your car shut and threw your head back against the seats headrest, the stress of the job and the emotional weight of the day combining to make you even more tired than you would usually be at the end of a long day. Javier hadn’t been back to the office since he left, leaving both you and Murphy to pick up all the work he’d left in his absence. If that wasn’t infuriating enough, the thought of him running around all of Bogotá just to avoid seeing you brought your anger to new unreachable heights. It was annoying - him not being around should have left your mind to be free to do some actual goddamn work but instead, just as before, every single moment he occupied your mind, living there permanently as if it were his right. How much more infuriating could that man get?

Thankfully, the drive home wasn’t any more of a nuisance than usual, since the apartment complex you shared with the others wasn’t that far from the embassy, so that was a small positive at the very least. Once you’d pulled up to the lot you were feeling a lot more level-headed than you did before, and were mainly looking forward to kicking back in pajamas and watching whatever was on TV with the leftover pizza from the night before. It wouldn’t do much to take your mind off everything with Javi, though, you knew that much. Still, a small bit of bliss was still bliss. 

Your apartment was down the hall from Javier’s, which had made it easier for you two when you were together but now felt like another sore reminder of what had been. Sighing heavily to yourself, you kicked the door to your car shut and stuffed the keys into the pocket of your jeans. A minor annoyance, sure, nothing you couldn’t handle though. You wondered if he would even be back right now. He had to be, right? An idea started to creep into your head at that thought, taking root and festering until you had practically talked yourself into doing it already, descending up the stairs with a sense of purpose behind you. Maybe if you showed up on his doorstep you could force him to confront you, make him look you in the eye. Any sort of acknowledgement to what you two had would be nice at this point, and if you had to take action yourself to get him to do it, then so be it. 

The closer you got to his door the more you felt you should turn back, a feeling of uneasiness beginning to form somewhere deep in your chest. This might be a bad idea. What if you two got into a fight again? As much as you wanted nothing more than to hurl some carefully crafted insults at Javi and his stupid gorgeous face, you weren’t exactly up for a full on battle that could result from it. Would it be better to simply go home and ignore your problems a little more?

Once you were only inches from the door was when you started to hear it. At first it sounded muffled, on account of the fact that there was a physical barrier between you and them, and you weren’t quite sure exactly what you heard at first but when you pressed yourself closer to the door you could hear it all clear as day - a woman moaning loudly on the other side, whimpering out Javi’s name and betraying exactly what was going on within the walls of the apartment. You felt your breath hitch in your chest, the world feeling like it was collapsing around you from the very second you realised why he had left early for the day. Unable to stop yourself, you tore yourself away from the apartment door and ran down the hall to your own place, tears falling at a rapid pace that refused to stop. You didn’t know if the woman in there was an informant, or a prostitute, or some random chick he’d picked up in a bar after ditching work for the day. In the end none of it mattered though. All that mattered is that it wasn’t you in there with him, like it used to be, like it should be, and that fact made you hurt all the more fiercely.

Fumbling with the keys to your apartment, you choked on a low sob working your way through the waterfall of tears in your eyes to try and wrestle the key into the lock. Through your haste, you accidentally let them fall loose from your palms and onto the ground, prompting a loud “fuck!” to ring out from your throat, loud enough for everyone in the neighboring apartments to hear. Not like you really cared about that, to be honest. With your hands shaking, you finally managed to throw the door to your apartment open, slamming it back closed with a thud and leaning back against it with your head in your hands, slowly descending to the ground to finally give in to the wave of sorrow threatening to claim you. 

You’d known his reputation before you started seeing each other, that he slept with all his informants and chased every woman who crossed his path in Colombia. Actually, it had made you hesitant to get involved with him in the first place but once you two had bitten the bullet and finally admitted your damn feelings for each other, Javier had ceased with his wild ways, becoming solely dedicated to you and you alone. And sure, you two weren’t together anymore, there wasn’t anything stopping him from being with other women. It felt like a deeper twist of the knife though, what you’d heard from behind that door, and it practically confirmed the sickening feeling that had been building in you since the first day back in the office after your breakup, when Javi refused to even look you in the eye and acted as if you’d vanished off the face of the planet. He doesn’t care about me anymore. 

Moving on had been that much easier for him. While it took everything in you to get up each day, he was doing absolutely ok. More than ok, if the sounds coming from his apartment were anything to go by. He was even already settling back into his old reputation. You should’ve known it was too good to be true - the manwhore of the DEA, Javier Peña actually wanting to settle down with one woman, actually caring about a girl beyond what she could be in bed. You remembered the raised eyebrows when you two had first gotten together: for most, it just seemed so out of nowhere. You’d ignored them all, remembering all the times you’d be tangled up with Javi on the couch, his head nestled into your neck while your heart raced a mile a minute, hearing every sweet nothing and praise he’d whisper to you. Stupid girl, you should’ve known. 

_______

After such a huge revelation, you thought things might’ve changed. In what way they would, you didn’t really know. Maybe the change would be sudden, such as you finally working up enough of a resolve to actually go confront Javier on his shit. Or maybe you’d take a leaf out of his book and start trying to seem like nothing was wrong at all, maybe go out on a few dates with some other guys. One of the Search Bloc guys had been eyeing you up every time he came over with Carillo to talk strategy, maybe you could go out with him. Though you knew it wouldn’t help - unlike Javier, who was actually more than happy with where you two had left things, you weren’t, and acting like it was just to throw it in his face wasn’t really going to work if he didn’t care enough to look over at you in the first place. And even then, the idea of falling into bed with some random man that you didn’t care for all that much in the name of moving on didn’t seem right to you. 

Nevertheless, you expected some form of change to happen the morning after when you came into work to see Javier sitting at his desk, on the phone to someone you couldn’t care less about. But nope. Nothing had changed. You sat down and stared across the room at him, just like you’d done every day for the past two weeks, and he ignored your stare to continue with writing something down on his notepad, just like usual. 

Maybe the change would be gradual, you thought, staring back over at the man in the midst of your ire with one of your coldest glares. And sure enough, around midday Steve had come up to you asking to retrieve something from the evidence room for him. Apparently he needed to look over something but was too busy with his own work to go fetch it - you knew on some level that his excuse was bullshit as it had been a pretty slow day for all of you but sure, whatever, if it got you out of that room and away from Javi for at least a few blissful moments that was fine by you. 

Reaching out for the door to the evidence room, you pushed it open and admitted yourself into the crowded space, twisting around to slam the door shut firmly behind you. Before you were rows of shelves containing every bit of evidence the DEA had accumulated against Escobar - there wasn’t as much as there probably should have been due to the fire that had broken out at the Palace of Justice years before yet the amount contained in that small room was still impressive in size. Moving between the shelves, you scanned the rows of boxes looking for the one Steve had asked for in particular, taking your time with it as there was a small sense of serenity to being in that room. For once it felt like you could breathe. You didn’t have to sit at a desk across from your ex, you didn’t have to go home to your apartment that was literally across the hall from his, you could be alone and not feel suffocated by his ever-present shadow over your life. Though, in some way you supposed, your own memories could still prove just as suffocating as Javier’s own godforsaken presence.

As if by thinking of him you’d magically summoned him, the man himself strode through the door to the evidence room, appearing to be in quite a hurry however once he noticed you were there he stopped, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to their usual stoic glare. You could barely contain your own disappointment at his sudden appearance, letting your face twist into a low scowl as you watched him walk down the aisle you were standing in, his eyes dashing from row to row searching for any place to look so they could avoid landing on you. Anger bubbled within you, a thousand different sarcastic or otherwise snarky remarks coming to mind that you could throw out at him, every one of them becoming increasingly more scathing the more you thought about it. Letting out a small sigh, you forced yourself to push all those delightful insults to the back of your mind, not wanting to become caught up in any more personal drama than you had to. Get the box and go. It’s that simple. There doesn’t need to be anymore to this. 

A minute later your eyes landed on the fabled box you’d been searching for, shoved into a corner and so out of the way you almost missed it completely. You thought of asking Steve what was in the box that he needed so bad when out of nowhere you heard a familiar voice speak up from behind you.

“Listen, I...about what happened on the phone a few weeks ago-”. 

So, it seems Mr. Perfectly Fine has finally decided to break his silence. In an instant you twisted yourself around to face him, quickly taking in his serious expression and stiff stature before your eyes met for the first time in two weeks.“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to speak to me now? That’s a first. I thought you were steadfast gonna ignore me for the rest of my life” you spat, not allowing him any form of politeness or decorum in your reply. Why should you? He’d ignored you for weeks. He deserved this. 

You watched as Javier tensed at your words, clearly not expecting the bite back that you had given to him. There was some part of his expression that almost looked sheepish in a way, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted this conversation to happen at all. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just-” he started with you rolling your eyes and cutting in almost immediately. “Save it for someone who actually gives a shit. Shouldn’t be hard since you don’t seem to care all too much yourself” you snarled, an action which only made him even more tense. 

“I do care, and I kind of always have fucking cared so if you could calm down a little and stop getting yourself worked up we can actually talk about what happened. Can you do that for me at the bare minimum?” he retorted, a harsh edge appearing in his tone that indicated he was already becoming frustrated with your attitude. You knew Javi’s emotions like the back of your hand - he wasn’t a patient man, and he had no time for snark or sarcasm, though only if it was directed at him. When it came to himself, he was more than happy to indulge in a small bit of pettiness. You didn’t much care at that moment though: as far as you were concerned, he lost the right to a civilised discussion when he broke up with you over the phone and then pretended you were invisible for weeks. It’s not like things can get any worse than they are now, right?

“Oh, sure, sure, we can totally talk. How about I start then?” you fired back, every word simmering with venom and dripping raw with sarcastic edge. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the shelf to take him in, from the creases in his tie to his tired eyes staring straight into you. Wait, tired? You didn’t realise it until then but he had been looking pretty tired lately, almost like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Then again, his sleep schedule had never been quite stellar, so that wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. And he was probably up all night with that woman I heard him with, you reminded yourself bitterly.  “Look at you, so dignified in your well pressed suit, so smug and self-involved, so far above me in every way, so far above that you won’t even look me in the eye or acknowledge my presence. Tell me, Javier, has it really been that easy to forget about me?” you taunted. “Though I supposed when you’re seducing every whore in Colombia into your bed it would be easy, wouldn’t it?”. 

Javier was caught off guard by your remark, not anticipating that you would go so far as to accuse him of returning to his old ways. “First of all, she was an informant, and I had to leave yesterday to go meet up with her. Things ran into overtime and that’s the reason I wasn’t back. I thought you of all people understood that gathering intel is a vital part to the fight against Escobar?” he replied, that last line at the end being delivered with only a little more underlying snip than the rest yet it was more than enough for you to feel around thirty percent more pissed at him. 

You scoffed at his lies, your lip curling into a snarl at his attempt at patronising you. “Don’t patronise me. I’m well aware of the ins and outs of this job, in case you’ve forgotten I’ve been working with the DEA for eight years now, which is why I’m calling bullshit on your pathetic excuse for a lie. You do realise we live in the same building right? I know you were doing more than having a friendly discussion with her in there, in fact, I quite literally heard you two through the goddamn walls on my way back home. And before you try to spin some shit about how it was necessary for the case, you and I both know that fucking the informant isn’t a standard part of procedure. You don’t see Murphy bedding any of his sources of intel, do you?”. 

“Murphy’s married, princesa” he deadpanned, throwing in that little nickname he had for you that two weeks ago would have made your heart flutter but at this time and in the context he used it only soured your mood further. “That’s besides the point. You’ve been acting like I never even mattered to you at all, and it’s honestly making me wonder if I ever did? Especially since I apparently didn’t deserve the dignity of a proper breakup and got a 27 second phone call instead. Tell me, when did you change your mind? I thought I was supposed to be the one you were waiting for all your life. Guess that was pretty easy to change, wasn’t it?” you snapped.

“Hermosa, can you just fucking listen for one minute?! God, you’re impossible sometimes” Javier shouted, that infamous temper of his rising towards the surface at a rapid rate. It was only a matter of time before he spat something out that he would no doubt regret. In your own haze of anger though, that fact didn’t register with you at all - you only saw red. If you had to scream back at him to finally pull some answers out of the man, then so fucking be it.

“No, how about you listen for once! I know we had that big fight but we could have just talked. The next day when you called me up I was ready to forgive you for being a complete ass. And what did I get instead? ‘I’m sorry, I think we should stop seeing each other’ and a dead dial tone after that. I can tell the only reason you’re apologising today is just so you don’t have to feel like the bad guy in all of this. So what’s the truth? Why were you so ready to throw away a whole relationship over one night of terse words?” you screamed, not caring that you two were at work and anyone could pass by outside and hear you two argue. With the way you both were shouting, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire building could hear your screaming match with Javier. None of that mattered to you though. The only thing that mattered was the truth. 

You weren’t the only one refusing to hold back in any of this: any lingering spark of politeness had vanished in Javi, his eyes turning dark with searing anger you had only seen in him a couple of times before. “You want to know why? You want to fucking know why? It’s because you’re a fucking pain to deal with. You may be a fantastic agent but god you can be so stupid sometimes. You’re too reckless, you throw yourself into danger too willingly with no consideration for anyone else. Did you ever stop to think what would happen to the people who cared about you if you died? Do you even give a shit about the people trying to protect you?” he confessed, fury burning with every word that came out of his mouth, his admittance making you flinch. It was just like he said during your last fight, the one that led to him dumping you in the first place. 

Everything he said from that night came rushing back to you, remembering how furious he’d been at you for what had happened during your last raid together. You could see that underneath it all he was concerned for your safety, a gesture that was usually sweet but frustrated you that night as you felt something more akin to a porcelain doll than a capable agent in his eyes. Just because I’m your girlfriend, doesn’t mean you can treat me like I need to be protected. I can handle myself just fine. That was what you’d said to him that night, which should have been the end of it but somehow as the argument went on things got more and more heated that by the time he’d stormed out of your apartment neither of you could remember what had started it all. 

What took you by surprise was that apparently he was still stewing about this, for some reason not wanting to believe in your capabilities as an agent and that alone made you more pissed at him. “I don’t need to be protected, Javier. I’m a woman, a DEA agent for crying out loud, not a flower! I’m more than capable of handling myself, I was literally trained for this! Nobody else here seems to have a problem with how I approach things so maybe the issue isn’t my method of attack but the fact that you’re a paranoid asshole?”. 

He raised a single eyebrow back at you, looking somewhat skeptical of your claim but more so angry that somehow you two had managed to circle back around to the very thing that had started this whole mess.“Really? Because our last raid you were throwing yourself into the fray as if it were a suicide mission. It was a miracle you only ended up with a minor sprain to the wrist. Those men, the sicario’s, they don’t fucking hold back, one wrong mistake means the difference between life and death” he snapped.“And you know what? After constantly stressing over your safety every minute I was done. If you wanna end up with a bullet between your eyes, be my guest”.

The second those words slipped from his lips, he knew he’d fucked up. As the tears started to form in your eyes you could see him freeze up, his burning temper that had caused him to be so hateful before starting to slowly seep back, replaced with remorse and a hint of panic if you squinted. Although that didn’t matter much right now - his venomous words were rattling around in your brain, acting as a metaphorical hammer that took the final swing towards your damaged heart. Apparently what you heard through the walls the night before hadn’t been enough to break you completely, since there was still enough left of your heart for the rest of it to be shattered by his callous cruelty. 

Forcefully swallowing down your cries, you wanted so badly to disappear from the room. You wanted to melt into the floor, to run away and go find one of Escobar’s men and gloat about all you’d done to try to stop him so you could feel the mercy of a fatal gunshot wound to the head. All the pain you had felt previously paled in comparison to the knife that cut you then, the tight feeling of your throat closing with every word you forced out. “So you were lying. You don’t care about me at all. You...you think I’m stupid. And reckless. And...not able to handle being here…”. 

“Shit, princesa, that’s not what I meant, I-” Javier started, desperately scrambling to fix the mess he’d caused, however, you weren’t going to let him. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. Any hope he might have had of making things right was now thrown straight out the window. No more chances. Not anymore. 

“I think that’s exactly what you meant, Javi. Well, you got your wish I guess. I’ll get out of your life for good” your voice wobbled as you spoke, the next few minutes becoming a blur from when you’d pushed past him and ran out of the evidence room, hearing him call your name behind and not bothering to turn back to face him, running through the halls past different agents and members of the DEA, your hand shielding yourself in a pathetic attempt to save face. Somehow you’d managed to make it out to your car, throwing yourself into the driver's seat and jamming the keys into the ignition, your mind going in a million different directions. Your first thought was to go back home, though you knew that you’d have to hear Javi come back later, probably with yet another woman he picked up. You didn’t exactly have any friends in Colombia - with your line of work there hadn’t been exactly a lot of time to sit around and mingle with people, and truth be told you wanted to avoid people at all costs right then. Without any idea as to where you might be going, or what you were going to do, you pulled your car out of the parking lot and slammed on the gas to get you out of there, the world surrounding you not registering to you anymore and every sound becoming a rush against your ears that you paid no mind to. 

One thing was for sure - you weren’t going to give Javier a single drop more of you. Your time, your mind, your energy, your tears, nothing. He’d already proved himself to be a lying sack of shit who didn’t care about you, so as it stood, you wouldn’t care about him either. Like the end of a tragic tale, everything had crashed and burned, and now that you thought about it more, maybe that was how things needed to be. 

Goodbye, Mr Perfectly Fine. I’ve been Miss Misery for the last time. 

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[negasonicimagines]

Closer (NSFW)

synopsis: Ellie’s a beta. You’re...not.

notes & warnings: this is a/b/o smut with an alpha!reader, that means you have a retractable dick. don’t like = don’t read. also: genital repulsion is 100% valid, but genitals ≠ gender, and Ellie was using dick/penis/etc in place of the word boys/men/etc which is addressed and corrected! overstimulation kink aplenty! and, for the first time on negasonicteenageimagines, wing kink! implied babypool!reader, which I will probably address in a part 2 one day! I'm sorry I've been gone so long, had a really demanding job that sucked the life out of me and I'm just living on savings while I try to recuperate.

Ellie loves the feeling of your hands on her; running down her sides, nervously feeling her chest or ass through her clothes, but she hates when you grab onto her hips and stop her.

“Y/N…” She sighs, stroking your flushed face. She’s straddling your lap, you’ve been trading kisses and teasing touches for the past little while.

“I just- Just need a sec, to cool down,” you tell her. Like it’s wrong that you want her; that she wants you.

“Why?” Ellie asks, and you look up at her with a bit of a hurt expression. She knows why. You don’t think she can handle you. You haven’t said it, but it’s pretty clear. “W- Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation. If you don’t want to, then I don’t want to, okay?”

“I mean, I do, you’re so…” Your hands tighten around her hips and she throbs, she wishes she could just melt into the touch. “I do. But…”

“I know,” Ellie sighs again.

“Can I hold you?” you request.

“Let me. You don’t have to be all-alpha, all the time. You should let me take care of you, y’know?”

“Mmkay,” you agree, letting her guide you so that you’re on top of her. You sink into her— not in the way that either of you would prefer —and let her tend to you, petting your hair and humming some old emo song. She strokes your wings next, and you shudder when she gets closer to the downy feathers between them. “E- El, we’re stopping, remember?”

“Right, sorry. Those softer feathers just feel so nice.”

“Thanks…” you mumble sleepily, and she smiles, though you can’t see it. You’ve always been self-conscious about your wings, but Ellie’s seen the beauty in them from the moment she first saw you. She’s seen the beauty in you since then, too.

Being with you is a dream, even if you’re not ready to take the next step. She just wishes she could reassure you; make everything better. It’s what you deserve.

“Dinner soon,” she softly warns, and you whine, closing your eyes tighter. “Babe, seriously, it’s too late for a nap.”

“Then what are you doing being such a good pillow, hm?” you argue.

She stammers before scoffing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you murmur.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Ellie teases.

“I know,” you hum, nuzzling. She’s probably covered in your scent at this point.

“You know, I get a lot of glares from your fan club when you do that,” Ellie grumbles, but she doesn’t really mind. She’s proud that everyone knows that she’s yours, and the other way around.

“My huh-what-now?”

“You know, that little group of omegas that…” Ellie trails off. She’s not sure whether she’s annoyed or grateful that you haven’t noticed. “They just really like you, that’s all.”

You’re not sure what it is. Betas have scents so light that emotion isn’t detectable, but maybe you can subconsciously smell the variation. Maybe it’s her tone, the way it slips from genuine nonchalance to something… Tense.

Whatever you’ve picked up on, it snaps you to attention. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?”

Ellie blinks at you. Out of respect to her, you do your best to suppress your overprotective tendencies. Clearly, you’re not making an exception for her this time. Your wings are all puffed up.

“Eleanor.” You only say her full first name when you’re serious. Usually it’s anger. “What’s wrong? Did they say something to you? Did they do something?”

“I- They just think you deserve a proper mate, or whatever. It’s not like you disagree, there’s a reason we haven’t done that.”

“Yeah, there is, but it isn’t something as superficial as that. You’re joking, right?”

“What? No, they really-“

“Fuck them, I don’t care what they think. I care what you think. Do you really think I’ve been holding back because you’re not an omega?”

“Well… Yeah.”

“Wow, um… Wow. Thanks for that, El. Didn’t know you thought that little of me, but… Cool.”

“Then what is it? Because I can’t think of any other reason!” Ellie snaps.

“Are you fucking serious?! Are you that fucking idiotic?!” You snap harder, you get up from the bed, and Ellie blinks in shock again.

“What?!”

“Ellie, you have said about a million times that you don’t like dick.”

Ellie’s furious expression immediately drops into one of regret, thinking of all the times she’s expressed utter repulsion towards your genitalia without even thinking.

“Yeah, I am that fucking idiotic,” she realizes. ”Oh, fuck, I really should’ve adjusted my language. I don’t like men! Fake dicks and ones otherwise attached to girls are fine,” Ellie explains. “Oh, jeez, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Hugs okay?”

You nod tearfully, she gets up, and she wraps her arms around your waist. You hug her neck, pressing her into your chest while your wings also wrap around her.

“I’m really sorry,” Ellie apologizes a third time. “I can’t believe I was such a freaking jerk. Those omegas are right, I really don’t deserve you.”

“El, it’s okay. We’re all learning. I should’ve told you what you were saying was bothering me.”

“But, I mean, what I was saying wasn’t just insensitive to alpha women, it was transphobic. I mean, it’d be one thing if I was genuinely repulsed, but... I’m definitely not. I was so thoughtless,” she insists.

“Like I said, we’re all learning. You acknowledged what you were saying was wrong, and how, and now you're growing from it. That’s all anyone can expect,” you reassure her.

“I love you,” she says.

“I love you too,” you reply, holding her tighter. “I’m really sorry for getting mad at you. I should’ve known you’d feel self-conscious, and that other people would see a problem with us. I just… I guess I’m so happy to finally be with you, that… I don’t know. I forget that everything else still sucks.”

“Babe…” Ellie coos, looking up at you. You look into her eyes, and your frown is turned upside down. She grins back. “You’re so beautiful.”

Instead of embracing her, you now cup her cheeks with your hands, pulling her in for a kiss that gets deeper and deeper until Ellie’s under you with one of your thighs between her legs.

You two have never gone as far as to stimulate those areas, but it’s about time. You continue to devour each other, you fondle her chest before literally starting to tear her shirt off, not wanting to part from the kiss but wanting her to be wearing way less clothing.

She gives a surprised gasp, lips leaving yours.

You whine.

“You were literally ripping my shirt off.”

“It’s a plain black one. You have, like, five,” you grumble, bitter that you’re having to take a pause. She looks at you with frustration, but notices just how clenched your jaw is, the way your hands shake.

You’re starving for her. For anything, probably, hardwired to spend at least a week straight every month fucking. How long have you two been together now? Loyalty may be the bare minimum, but she feels the need to reward you for it somehow. You had plenty of opportunity to fulfill your needs elsewhere.

Ellie takes her shirt off, chuckling to herself at the realization that it’s now a v-neck instead of the ring-neck it was. She unbuttons your shirt, helping your slip your wings out of the window in the back.

Your eyes rake over her body, but you don’t touch, not without permission. Ellie’s always loved observing you, photography has made her a bit of a voyeur. Watching someone as beautiful as you hold back such primal urges is downright delicious.

She can’t help but resume kissing you, lips and teeth and tongue mashing together. It’s animalistic.

“Can I please touch-“ Ellie’s cut off with a moan, the seam of her skinny jeans and the pressure of your thigh hitting just right. “Mm, wings?”

You hesitate.

“I’ll be gentle,” Ellie pleads.

“Okay,” you consent, resuming your kissing.

You’ll never forget the first time she touched your wings like this.

You two hadn’t just started dating, but you hadn’t been together for long. You were snuggling on the couch watching some movie or show on Netflix.

At first, she was just stroking your back, right above where you’re most sensitive, if it wouldn’t mat your feathers, you’d cover it up completely.

You’d tensed up a little at how close she was to the soft, more tender feathers, but she hadn’t noticed. She danced her fingertips further down and continued to stroke.

You choked on air, scrambling away from her quickly and blushing like crazy.

“What?” Ellie asked incredulously.

“I- Um- How do I put this?” You were still panting. “It’s gradual, like, um, for the most part it’s not very sensitive, but when you get closer to, um, the center of my wings, um…”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it hurt,” Ellie apologized, and though her tone didn’t betray it, you could see in her eyes that she felt awful.

You quickly shook your head.

“Wait, then… Oh. Oh!” Now she was blushing. “Sorry.”

This time, she’s skipped over the less sensitive parts again, not even building up to where she’s touching now, right in the center. You moan into her neck, clinging to her as she toys with the raven feathers between your shoulder blades.

She chuckles, and you growl.

“That’s cute,” Ellie murmurs, and you start to rut against her thigh again, feeling your member start to harden, and therefore extend from your body. “Big bad alpha, but I bet if I asked you’d let me put a collar on you, wouldn’t you?”

“Holy fuck, yes,” you moan. No girl has ever made you feel this way before. Of course, you’ve had sex before, but... It’s always been about the other person. Knot me, choke me, tie me up, Alpha, please, you remember the whines of past partners, whether they were omegas or simply curious alphas, and you appreciate Ellie’s independence, her borderline dominance. Maybe this time will be a little more vanilla, but the thought of...

“Kiss me again.”

You obey, and this continues for a bit longer, her mumbling sweet, disgusting nothings while you get bigger and harder and closer.

“El, I- I’m so-“

“Huge?” Ellie attempts to fill in the blank, intimidated by your size. It’s bigger than her strap by a long shot.

You just whine.

“Can I- Can I see?” she requests. Your cock is straining against your bottoms, so you’re happy to take them off as she removes her own. She urges you to prop yourself against some pillows and allow her to be on top. Her already doe-like eyes are even wider. “I- Uh- May I?” She has a hand outstretched.

You stutter before settling on nodding. Her hand carefully wraps around you, she slides her fist up and down so slowly. You give a trembling sigh.

“This okay?” you ask, still nervous.

“Mhm,” Ellie quickly responds, cheeks turning redder. She runs her thumb over the head— well, more like a face, since it’s your clitoris and some of the skin that surrounds it —and you squeal. “Alright, I think I kind of get it,” she mumbles.

“You think?” you choke out as she continues to stimulate the bundle of nerves; she bites her lip to hold back a smirk. You’re careful not to buck your hips, wanting her to go at her own pace. You instead roll your shoulders, wings feeling cramped with the way you’re sitting.

She notices.

“Here.” Ellie takes a pillow from beside you and has you lean forward. When you recline again, it’s thick enough to keep you off the headboard and it’s right between your wings, so every time you move…

“C-Clever,” you stammer, and she reaches out to stroke your cheek. You don’t know why, but you flinch.

“Shh… It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, babe.”

You nod. You know.

“You alright?” she asks.

You nod again.

“Can you use your words?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassure her, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Do you wanna keep going?” She’s so beautiful; so perfect. She likes to pretend she doesn’t care, about anything, but she lets you have the truth. She does, often too much. And she loves you.

“Please.”

Your enthusiasm hasn’t waned even a bit, Ellie notices, and she starts to stimulate you with both hands now, thumb sweeping over your clit while she strokes up and down your cock.

Your knot starts to swell, just a little.

“Hng, El, wait,” you tell her, and she tears her hands away immediately, looking concerned again. “Nothing bad, I just… Can I please finish you off at least once, before I do?”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“Really?” She sounded… Hesitant.

“Yeah,” she says with a relieved smile. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You’re trying not to give into your instincts, to not throw her down onto the bed and just take, but it must be obvious with the way you hesitate to even touch her as you try to readjust your positions.

“Babe, you know I want this, right? You don’t have to be careful.”

You look down at your dick, and then skeptically at her. She follows your gaze.

“You’re as small as an omega but with none of the evolutionary traits to keep me from breaking you.”

Ellie’s cheeks flush. You always know when she wants to tell you something— or if she has some sort of request —but she’s too embarrassed or nervous, her lips curl inwards, pressed into a thin line. Her eyebrows pop up, just a little, and the puppy eyes just barely start to form, though they avoid yours.

You look to her expectantly.

“What if I want to be broken?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” you argue, and it’s shaky. You want her, you want to do this for her, you want to give her everything.

“I’m asking for you. All of you,” she insists. “Please.”

You nod, before taking her face in your hands once more and pressing your lips to hers. The gentle kissing devolves into practically devouring her lips with yours.

You mouth at her neck, at all of her, nibbling and licking and sucking until you reach what you’ve been aching for and tug her boxers off, burying your face in her and finally getting to eat.

“H-holy fucking…” Ellie’s grateful that you’re too focused on the task at hand to look up at her.

You slide one finger in, then another, curling as you use the tip of your tongue to stimulate her clit. You continue to prep her, she realizes with a smile, as she gets closer and closer.

“Could I…?” Her fingers tangle in your hair, but she doesn’t dare to pull. You growl. She’ll take that as a no.

She doesn’t tighten her grip, instead moving her hands to the sheets, but she still rocks against your mouth, begging for more, for release. This certainly isn’t what she’s used to.

“I- Ah- Y/N, fuck, don’t stop, please,” she pants, Eventually, despite her impatience, her moans turn into nonsense until she’s finally over the edge. You work her through it, or, at least, that’s what she assumes you’re doing, until she’s clearly overstimulated and you don’t stop.

She did just ask for all of you, including the sex drive, the insatiable urge to please your partner, and everything else that comes with being an alpha.

The feeling just keeps building and she continues to twitch under you, whimpering and clutching the sheets until a gasp is torn from her lungs and she’s finished once more.

You don’t stop.

The third one comes out of nowhere, she doesn’t feel close at all until suddenly it’s there and she’s crashing over like a waterfall, drowning in pleasure.

“I- That’s- That’s enough, please,” Ellie insists. You lick a slow, wide stripe from her entrance to her clit before sitting up. “Could I, um… Return the favor?”

“You want to?” Your head tilts in confusion. You’re still self-conscious, she realizes.

“I do.” She gets out of the way so that you can lay back down, pillow between your wings and cock still hard and exposed between your spread legs. She tentatively starts to give you a handy again, still unsure of where to start. “I, uh… I don’t think I can fit all that. Is that okay?”

“Of course. You really don’t have to do it at all, I don’t mind.”

“I want to,” she insists, before starting to suckle on the tip, smoothing her tongue over your clit again and again. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, hard, toes curling. She slowly inches down before gagging and pulling off with a rather cliche pop.

She looks gorgeous with tears in her eyes. She tries again, now knowing her limits but still pushing them every now and then. She uses her hands to make up for what she can’t fit in her mouth, rather skillfully.

“Wait, I- Hng, Ellie, stop,” you moan.

She pulls off, looking worried.

“I- I don’t wanna finish until I’m inside you,” you quietly explain, now you’re avoiding her eyes. She smiles softly, before opening the drawer on her bedside table and grabbing a box of alpha condoms.

“Will these work?”

You nod.

“And would you like to fuck me now?”

“Don’t say it like that!” you protest, before clamping a hand over your mouth, surprised at how bratty you sound.

“Rather whiny for an alpha,” she taunts. “How would you like for me to say it, then?”

Her eyebrow arches and you swear you could finish if she just kept looking at you like that, with that challenge in her eyes that no one else would dare to look at you with. You start leaking precum, and she bites back a smirk once again, waiting for your answer.

“I- Uh… I don’t know. Just, not so vulgar. You’re- You’re special. This is special. Not just…”

It clicks. You’re not sure how it does for her, but it almost always does. She’s intuitive, at least, when it comes to you. Her expression softens. This time, at least, she knows when to stop.

“I get it. Please, I’m ready for you to- I mean, I’ve practiced with my strap, but other than that, no one’s ever- No one's ever done that for me. I want you to.”

You rearrange yourselves once more, letting her rest on the bed and putting a spare pillow under her hips.

You kiss her lips like you’re starting all over, slowly kissing every inch of her. She’s delicious, soft and smooth and tender. You want to sink your teeth in.

You don’t, instead opting to rise up and sink a couple fingers into her, adding a third once you think she can take it.

Ellie tightens around your curling fingers, desperate for more. She rocks downwards, she wants to be filled.

“Okay, love, I get it,” you reassure her in a near whisper.

You take one of the alpha condoms and roll it on before carefully lining up with her entrance.

“Ha, don’t tease,” she whines. This is a little closer to what you’re used to. You slide right in, well, as much of you as you can actually fit, which is just over half your length. You’re not quite sure if you’ve bottomed out or if she’s not relaxed enough.

“Is it okay to move?” you wonder.

“Please,” she says, and so you do, starting with a slow, gentle pace before taking it up a notch. You’re fucking her wide open, but you’re still being careful as she turns into a mess of moans under you.

Eventually, though, you just can’t help yourself. You’re practically drilling into her, and now you know you’ve bottomed out because she’s taking all of you, flawlessly.

“Oh, fuck, I-“ Ellie continues to pant, calves propped on your shoulders. “You’re so- I- Y/N, fuck- You- I-“

“Sh-sh-sh, it’s okay. I know. I know.” You can barely string together words yourself, you two fit like you’re made for each other, she squeezes around you so perfectly while you abuse that spot deep inside of her that makes her eyes roll back and her flushed, swollen lips fall wide open. “You’re so perfect.”

“You, too, I- I love you,” she manages, and it’s the best thing she could’ve said. It always is. You kiss her forehead and her knees are now hooked over your shoulders, bringing you even closer. You keep taking her, eventually it’s just too much and she reaches between the two of you, stroking her clit so she can come undone again.

And when she does, her walls flutter around you, getting you right back on the edge. She reaches behind you, running her fingertips over that sensitive spot between your wings so teasingly, so fleetingly, and yet it finishes you; whimpering and moaning and groaning into the pillow, right next to her head.

You knot her without even thinking as you unravel together, and the two of you soak in your euphoria for a few moments before speaking.

“Thank you,” you quietly say.

“I think I should be thanking you,” she scoffs. “What do you have to thank me for?”

“For letting me have you like this. For trusting me. For loving me and understanding me. Everything, I have everything to thank you for,” you explain.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” Ellie grumbles. But she holds your hands in hers like she did almost the entire time you were fucking her into the mattress. “I… I wanna be on top.”

“Um… With proper prep that could definitely work, but we’re a bit stuck at the moment,” you explain.

“Good to know, but... I meant that I want to ride you,” Ellie reiterates.

“Oh. Uh, sure.” You two carefully readjust yourselves.

“I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be knotted,” she admits.

“Is it alright? I- I didn’t consciously do it, I’m sorry for not asking.”

“It’s not a big deal, you’re wearing an alpha condom, plus I’m on birth control so…” She looks at you for a few beats of silence before smiling. “It feels great. It’s… It’s nice, being connected like this.”

It’s a bit awkward, all of it, but it’s... New. Different. Perfect. It’s her.

Ellie rocks back and forth a little, figuring out what works best for her and confirming that it’s comfortable for you before continuing.

Lower, drawn-out moans drip from her lips like syrup as she unintentionally edges you, working up to that perfect peak over and over before switching up the pace or pressure or angle and sending you right back to the start.

You grab Ellie’s hips and snarl. She did say she wanted to be broken, maybe she’s trying to urge you to do so.

She pauses, now fully noticing your flushed cheeks, your heaving chest, the need in your eyes. She nods.

You fuck up into her like she’s just your human fleshlight, hands grasping her hips bruisingly.

“So tight,” you groan through gritted teeth, thrusting up into her faster and harder until her needy whimpers, the way she moans your name, and the new, unique sensation of being inside a beta destroys and remakes you once again.

She’s shuddering too, you realize.

“Are you alright?”

She nods, looking spooked, and winded, of course.

“Are you sure?” you confirm.

She nods again.

“Just… I, um… I finished. Without touching my, um… My clit. Never had that happen before,” she reassures you, also stroking your ego.

“Glad to be of service,” you say with a smile, but your stomach growls. “I say I go get dinner after the knot deflates, ‘kay?”

“What about me?” Ellie wonders.

“I’m not just gonna let you walk after that, even if you could,” you argue. “I’ll bring it back here, to the d- To the ne- Here.”

“It can be our den. Our nest. Is that what you want?” Ellie offers. You nod, looking fretful.

“Just- Just right now, okay? I promise.”

“Babe, you know I want to be with you, right? I don’t just tolerate your instincts, they’re a part of you, I love them as much as I do the rest of you,” she insists, readjusting herself so that she’s laying on top of you instead of straddling you, knot still locked in.

“But you-“ She always teases you about them. Not just every now and then, every time you slip up like that until now, she’s made some remark.

“But what?” Ellie reaches up, stroking your cheek again. You don’t flinch this time, too blissed out.

“I just- Most jokes have a hint of truth to them… So when it feels like you constantly tease me for being an alpha, especially the inconvenience of it…”

“Oh, jeez, I’m- I’m sorry, I... I really am a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not. I shouldn’t have said that,” you disagree.

“I shouldn’t have been making you feel so bad about yourself,” she insists, giving you a kiss, and then another. You deepen it, your nails digging into her back. “Fuck, babe…”

“Thank you…” you drawl, giggling with pride shortly after. You sigh. “I think, uh, I think we can probably part ways now. If you want.”

“Not yet,” Ellie quickly says, pleasantly surprising you. You hold her tighter. “Hey, uh… So… I- Could we- I mean, you- I- We’ve been together a while, and I was just wondering, is it customary for… Ugh, never mind.”

“Sweetness?” you question, concerned.

There’s a decent bit of silence. You can’t see her face, but you can guess the expression: pressed lips, slightly raised eyebrows, the works.

“Would you ever… Want to bite me?”

“I just did, like, a lot,” you say.

“No, I mean-! I mean, like bite me,” she clarifies.

“Oh. Well, I mean, I guess. It wouldn’t have much use, ‘cause the only benefits are scent-related, and I already crave your scent when I’m stressed, and you don’t know what I smell like. We would just be… Clingier to each other than we already are,” you explain.

Her face falls.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind you being a little needier… And it sure would piss off those stupid omegas you were telling me about. Obviously, I want to claim you, you’re mine, but… I just want you to be aware of what it means, how it’ll affect you,” you add to what she probably received as rejection of the idea. “Do you still want this?”

“I do,” Ellie consents. You cradle the back of her head in one hand, tilting it to the side to better access her neck—and therefore her scent gland. You gently kiss the skin first, building up to the bite like you’re trying to create another hickey.

Eventually, though, you sink your teeth in. Ellie tenses up, clinging to you and giving a soft whine of pain before relaxing and just letting it happen. You lick up the blood just a little before realizing you’re just going to have to give up and let it bleed for a bit. You can tend to it later.

“Thank you,” she says, so quietly. “For everything.”

“You’re gonna make me cry,” you echo what she said earlier. You slip her off of you, letting your arousal fade and carefully tucking your member back in after tying off the condom and throwing it away.

“You know, I hadn’t really thought about what that might look like,” Ellie confesses, looking bewildered. You just laugh, and while she blushes, she laughs with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell her. You truly feel like you have to touch her to prove that she’s real. She’s so perfect, you’re so perfect together.

The need for dinner feels a lot more…primal. Like an instinct to care for your mate, especially now that you can feel her hunger simmering in the edges of your mind. You don’t want to leave her, but you also desperately need to take care of her.

She can tell that you’re torn.

“What is it?”

“Food. I-“ You sigh, frustrated. “I wanna stay with you, but I need to get you some food.”

Her expression was already softened, at least compared to the expressions she makes outside of this room you share… This den, you think with glee. But, now it’s even gentler.

“Well, I am pretty hungry… So, why don’t you get us some food, and then we can eat it in here. I think they had pizza for dinner, just get me a couple slices of-“

“The vegan thin crust, I know,” you cut her off. You now have a mission. You give her a long smooch on the forehead before getting up and getting dressed, reapplying your deodorant and some perfume or cologne, if you desire. “Love you.”

“You too,” Ellie calls as you close the door, making your way to the kitchen.

The pizza’s been put up for a while, so you decide you’ll reheat it in the oven, instead of the microwave. You get two pans out, if your pizza choice isn’t vegan, and you go ahead and spray them with cooking spray while you wait for the oven to preheat. You carefully place the slices on each baking sheet.

You don’t want to leave the oven unattended, so you instead reflect on everything that just happened, pride bubbling up in your chest.

You love her so much it hurts.

The oven heats up quickly, so you set the pans inside and put a timer on your phone so can go check on Ellie. You make your way to the stairs, but when you get to the foyer, you realize Ellie’s there, along with a red-suited man.

You resist the urge to approach, knowing it’ll only embarrass and irritate her if you go all cuckoo alpha mode on her in front of someone. She gets a little closer to him, and he hands her a present that’s wrapped… Exquisitely, at least in comparison to your present-wrapping skills.

But his entire posture changes the second he sees you observing.

You decide then to waltz on over, curious about the strange character.

“Who’s this, babe?” you wonder, wrapping an arm around her.

“Oh, this is Deadpool. Just bringing by a horrifically late Hanukkah present.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Deadpool.”

“We’ve met before,” he says softly.

“We have? Shit, sorry, I’m better with faces than names, and yours is covered up, so…”

“It was a long time ago,” he nearly mumbles.

“Okay,” you chirp, not sure how else to respond. “You hungry? I’m reheating some leftover pizza. In case you couldn’t tell, we kind of missed dinner.”

“Y/N!” Ellie protests, turning completely red.

“You know he can smell it on you, right?” you chuckle, before whispering to her: “And I bet you’re walking funny.”

Ellie stammers. Apparently, she didn’t know.

“You two make an adorable couple,” he says, but he sounds sad. Maybe he’s missing his own lover, his scent radiates loss. “I, uh… I don’t think you’d be offering me pizza if you realized who I was.”

“Oh, please, murder isn’t a big deal, even if Ellie and the other hall monitors have a problem with it.”

“You’re gonna have to take Remedial Ethics again if anybody hears you say that,” Ellie chides you.

“They can’t make me, I’ve already graduated. Besides, taking that class so many times gave me a shit ton of extra credits and a sexy little 4.2 GPA,” you snicker. “Yo, DP, if they ever try and get you to take it, just pick the answers that seem like the least amount of fun. Easy peasy.”

“Wow,” Deadpool scoffs, before turning somber once more. “It was nice meeting you again, Y/N.”

“You, too,” you reply, and he’s on his not-so-merry way. “What’s up with him? Isn’t he supposed to be all goofy and vulgar?”

“I don’t know, he’s a pretty moody guy.”

“Huh.” The alarm on your phone goes off, and you help Ellie hobble along to the kitchen.

After letting it cool, you two decide to eat right there, rinsing off the pans before putting them in the empty dishwasher.

Despite her protests, you carry her up the stairs, plopping her in bed before ditching your pants and joining her. She loses her own.

“Round two?” you tease.

“My vagina hurts,” she grumbles.

“Really? I’m sorry, I tried to be careful.“

“No, not like that, you were good. Too good, gave me the pounding of my life,” she reiterates.

“Oh… Thanks.”

“Don’t pretend you’re surprised, those omegas don’t just like you for your wit. You have a reputation.”

“So, they do like me for my wit,” you remark.

“Shut up,” she scoffs at the double entendres. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. You were perfect. I mean, even if you weren’t, you would be, but… That was amazing.”

“You’re too much,” Ellie mumbles, blushing. You kiss her, but she’s the one to intensify it. “...Okay, maybe round two.”

“You gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Do what?” Ellie asks, and she does it again.

“That!” you emphasize.

“What?!”

“Raise one eyebrow!”

“Oh. I don’t do it consciously,” she says. Of course she doesn’t. She’s just perfect.

“Fuck you,” you tell her instead.

“Fuck you.” But she laughs.

“Like, now?” you retort.

“Shut up.” She snuggles you closer. “Can I hold you, now?”

“I guess…” you pretend to complain, and you quickly find your face buried in Ellie’s chest, one arm curled between your bodies and the other around her.

“Ah, my best friends,” you joke, nuzzling.

“You fucking bastard,” she chuckles.

“Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you should say it,” you sing-song. But the word doesn’t sting when she says it. It’s a term of endearment, now.

“We should probably go to sleep,” Ellie says, upon glancing at her phone.

“Probably,” you admit. “I love you so much.”

“You’re so fucking gay,” she huffs, grinning.

“Really? What clued you in? Is it the way I dress? Or maybe it’s the way I fucked you into the mattress an hour ago…” You play at pensivity, and Ellie, Ellie giggles, rolling her eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[cinnaminsvga]

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: RIP Jungkook... When will he catch a break, I wonder? Who is Hoseok to him anyway? Much to think about... Also I’m just gonna say this, but Jungkook is literally the most unreliable narrator I’ve ever had to write, so take that in mind when you read this. Enjoy! || W.C. 2K

prev // part 14 of ? // next masterlist here.

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It takes another 10 minutes or so until the maintenance guy manages to rescue both Jungkook and Namjoon out of the elevator. Luckily, the elevator didn’t stop midway between floors so they didn’t have to crawl or climb out, so getting out is a quick and easy ordeal once the doors are opened. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, but that moment of calm is short-lived when he hears Namjoon clear his throat behind him.

“Umm… Jungkook-ssi, right?” Namjoon addresses him by his name for the first time. Jungkook jumps up in surprise, though he should have known that you would have ratted him out when you found out he was intentionally ignoring the taller boy.

“I… Yeah. And you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook doesn’t even bother tacking on the question mark at the end, too worn out mentally to bother pretending like he’d only suddenly realized. He rubs the back of his neck, thankful that he’s turned away from Namjoon so that he doesn’t see the flash of annoyance across his face.

Without another word, Jungkook begins climbing the last two flights of stairs to reach your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to see if Namjoon follows, though he does hear the extra pair of footsteps close by.

When they file into your shared home, the awkward tension magnifies tenfold. While Namjoon and Jungkook had been gone, it seems that Hoseok has already made himself comfortable, laughing jovially at something you said as he helps you bring the last remaining pairs of cutlery to the table. Jungkook looks over at the new visitor from the corner of his eye and notices the way Hoseok has his gaze locked fervently on you as you fussed over everyone’s seating arrangements.

“Oh, Jungkook! Namjoon!” You shove Yoongi’s plate towards him the moment you hear the door open, sprinting over to the two of them. Your hair is in complete disarray, slightly frizzy in places even after you had painstakingly taken an hour this morning trying to look presentable. Even so, Jungkook can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster when you envelop him in a tight hug, as you’ve always looked cute to him no matter what. When he wraps his arms around you to return the embrace, he feels you lower your lips near his ears. “You’re in big fucking trouble, mister. We’re talking after all of this is over,” you whisper darkly. He gulps audibly when you separate, the smile on your face is eerily present.

Thankfully, you don’t hug Namjoon as well, though an apology is out of your mouth before Jungkook can distract you. “Namjoon, I’m so sorry again. I wish I had warned you about the elevator sooner,” you pout, but Namjoon is quick to waive your concerns.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He smiles warmly, his dimples on full display. You clear your throat, staring wide-eyed at him, no doubt dumbstruck by his handsome features. Jungkook tries to relax the tick in his jaw, but to no avail. Instead, he marches past the two blushing fools, eager to get away.

Since your apartment is quite small, you set most of the food onto the coffee table, with everyone either sitting on the floor or on the couch. Jungkook is quick to take a seat next to you on the couch, but that also forces him to have Seokjin on his other side. The elder winks salaciously at him, which Jungkook pointedly ignores.

Namjoon and Hoseok take a tentative seat on the other side of the coffee table. Namjoon’s gangly legs make it difficult for him to fold himself in properly, so you offer to switch places with him instead, much to Jungkook’s dread. Namjoon glances at him for a moment before hesitantly accepting your offer, squishing himself on Jungkook’s right side on their small, sunken couch. He can feel rather than hear Seokjin’s attempts to mask his nefarious giggles.

You seat yourself beside Hoseok, who smiles widely back at you. “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N! I’ve heard all about you from Namjoon.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s only been good things,” he says. “To be honest, I don’t think I’d see you again after that time in––“

“I’m going to fucking start eating now!” Jungkook interrupts, stabbing his chopsticks into the mountain of pork that you had prepared. Somewhere in Busan, he’s sure his mother is cringing at his terrible manners.

For a moment, you seem startled by his sudden proclamation, but you’re quick to shake it off. “Alright everyone! Please dig in,” you say, clapping your hands with a large grin on your face. Jimin is the first to dive into the food, popping a piece of kimbap into his mouth and moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I don’t know what type of crack you put into your food, but MAN this is delicious,” he says, already piling up his plate with anything he can get his hands on. Yoongi is slightly more reserved when he takes a prawn and chews it softly, nodding in agreement with Jimin’s statement.

“Thank you for this meal, Y/N. You must have worked really hard,” Namjoon says, reaching over for some food as well. Jungkook watches as he nearly bumps the plate of ssam off the edge of the table. “Oh, whoops.”

Hoseok laughs loudly, the sudden noise surprising everyone around him. He doesn’t look all that embarrassed, however. “I’ll have to apologize for Joon in advance. He’s a bit of a clumsy guy.” He smiles kindly at Y/N. “You’re gonna have to get used to that eventually, I suppose.”

Jungkook notices the soft blush rising up your neck. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as he takes a particularly rough bite out of his food. “I, um, suppose I will,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck while keeping your gaze off Namjoon. You accidentally make eye contact with Jungkook instead, who didn’t have enough time to erase the annoyance out of his expression. You flinch slightly, before softening your voice in that tone you use whenever Jungkook felt a little stressed out. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Is the meat too tough or something?”

Seokjin snorts beside him, nearly choking as he was in the middle of taking a big swig of water. Jungkook hates that he knows that the bastard is enjoying this way too much. Jungkook’s frustration is easy for anyone to see, with only you being left unaware as to why he was so agitated. Your cluelessness only adds to his bubbling anger. “Yeah, Jungkook. Are you alright? Bet you wished there were less people at the table, huh?”

Jungkook is quick to stomp on his foot, causing the prick to yelp in pain. He’s too busy pinching Seokjin in the tit that he misses the way Namjoon’s face falls, dejectedly looking at his food with a deep furrow in his brow.

“Oh? Are you becoming self-aware? Maybe you should take a page out of your book and leave before I kick you out myself,” you huff, scowling at Seokjin. You must have misinterpreted his little side comment, though Jungkook isn’t sure if he should be thankful for that or not. You turn to Taehyung, who has been mysteriously quiet this entire time. “And you. I know I said you could bring a friend over, but I didn’t expect you to bring this soggy testicle!”

Taehyung just shrugs, his attention focused on his phone. “What?” He doesn’t look up, his fingers furiously occupied with something else. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Won’t do it again.” When he finishes his text, Seokjin’s phone dings soon right after. Jungkook’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the two, but neither of them seems to care.

You’re beginning to look flustered, mouth opening and closing as you figure out a way to salvage this mess of a dinner. If Jungkook had been slightly less preoccupied with his own swirling thoughts, he might have thought to comfort you or say something to alleviate the tension. Instead, he has his head bowed in shame, the bitter taste in his mouth unwilling to leave until the boy to his right decides to leave first.

“Anyway,” Yoongi clears his throat, causing Jimin to jump beside him. Normally, Yoongi never spoke all that often when they got together, usually content with eating and listening to the younger ones joke around. He isn’t looking at Jungkook, but he knows that Yoongi must have read his mind. He waves his chopsticks around vaguely at Namjoon. “You. You like woodworking, right?”

Startled from being directly addressed, Namjoon’s posture straightens slightly at the mention of his favorite activity. “Y-yes. It’s a bit of a side hobby that I do when I’m not busy with school or work. I’m… not very good. Just a novice, really.” He laughs, nervously propping his glasses up his nose until they’re nearly up to his forehead.

“Oh, hush! Namjoon is fantastic! I got him to make little wooden figurines to decorate the cafe over the summer, isn’t that right?” Seokjin interjects, reaching over Jungkook to slap Namjoon on the back.

“That’s right! Namjoon, I’ve seen your photos on Instagram! You’re definitely good at what you do,” you say, eyes sparkling with amazement. Namjoon coughs shyly into his hand, but it doesn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook feels his blood pressure boiling, but he grits his teeth instead. “Interesting stuff,” he murmurs sarcastically, soft enough that only you wouldn’t hear. He senses Namjoon sagging back into his seat, but he doesn’t even feel remotely guilty that he had heard him. Even without looking up, he knows that Yoongi is sending him a warning look in response.

“Namjoon, that’s really cool. I’m an interior design major, so I’d love to see what you might think about the wood pieces I’m thinking of purchasing for an upcoming exhibit,” Yoongi says, trying to salvage the situation. Jungkook glares at him, but the elder doesn’t back down. Instead, he quirks a brow up, as if challenging him to say something.

Jimin gasps, a few bits of rice falling out of his mouth and into the plate of ssamjang. “That’s right! Yoongi, didn’t you say you needed something interesting as a center piece for the dining table? Maybe Namjoon can help you with that!”

Namjoon flushes, waving his hands and shaking his head fervently. “Ah, no! I don’t think I can help you with that. I’m sure you can ask plenty of other professionals who are more capable than I am.”

“No, Namjoon. You should help them,” Hoseok quips. He’s got a pout on his face, causing his cheeks to bunch up cutely. Like a fucked up squirrel, Jungkook thinks petulantly, hating how childish he was being but unable to stop. He steals a look at you to see that you’re staring at Hoseok, too. Hoseok pumps his fist up, “Namjoon’s great! He’s just being humble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be sure to ask you for help then, Namjoon.” Yoongi smiles wide, his pink gums appearing for the first time that night. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel good, like being praised without words. Emboldened by Yoongi’s kindness, Namjoon smiles back, his previously dejection slowly washing away.

Jungkook feels betrayed. He can’t stand sitting in this room anymore, not when all his friends, most especially you, were being so buddy-buddy with this new unwelcome addition to your party. He puts down his chopsticks onto his dish, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen sink.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” You stand up as well, walking towards him. When you reach out to touch his shoulder, he accidentally slaps your hand away on instinct, head fuzzy with too many thoughts. You gasp, cradling your hand to your chest even though he hadn’t hit you that hard. You were mostly shocked, not used to seeing Jungkook so… touchy, and for seemingly no apparent reason. If only you knew, he thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Stomach ache,” is all he says before he’s grabbing his coat from the rack and shoving on his boots. He grabs his car keys, unwilling to turn around to see the expressions on all your faces. “I’m heading to the pharmacy. See you.” He slams the door shut behind him, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

“Well, this sucks, huh?” Seokjin nudges Taehyung with his foot. Taehyung, to his credit, jabs Seokjin straight in the balls.

“Back to the drawing board,” he sighs to himself, rubbing his temples as the elder groans obscenities back at him. This is going to be harder than he thought.

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.4)

SUMMARY: *queue beebo* ladies and gents this is the moment you’ve waited for  

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

WARNINGS: swearing, australian spelling (not a warning just letting you know)

OTHER PARTS IN THE SERIES:  pt1   /   pt2   /   pt3   /   pt4   /  pt5   /   pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

As the Cherry Blossom trees were in full bloom, Iroh was basking in the peace he hadn’t felt in weeks. Zuko on the other hand, sat next to the entryway sulking. Of course, Iroh, being the caring uncle he was, wished to relieve him of all the angst within him on this beautiful day and approached him with a solemn expression on his face. “I see, it’s the anniversary isn’t it.”

Beneath his straw hat, Zuko scowled agitated his uncle brought it up, as if it wasn’t the first thing he thought about when he woke up this morning. “Three years ago today, I was banished. I lost it all. I want it back. I want the avatar. I want my honour. My throne. I want my father, not to think I’m worthless.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t! Why would he banish you if he didn’t care?”

Wordlessly Zuko rose and walked away from his uncle, frustrated and terrified of what else his uncle might say. Finding a cherry blossom tree far, far, away from Iroh, he sat down beneath it angrily. He hated this day. He hated what it did to his life. He hated how the memories of you consumed his mind more prominently today than any other day of the year.

He never said it out loud, but he wanted you just as much as he wanted his honour. He wanted to see you alive. Breathing right in front of him. And he’d be damned if he admitted it to his uncle. Why, he wanted you? He wasn’t sure. You have always lingered in the back of his mind, not constantly, but every once in a while, it always seemed to come back to you. Or at least what was left of you in his mind.

This annoyed him endlessly. How could someone, who he barely spoke a word to, stay in his mind for so long? He didn’t even know what you looked like! He let out a groan of frustration. He wished he could remember what your voice sounded like. Then, at least he would have something to hold onto. He tried desperately to cling onto the memory of you. The way your baby hair stuck out of your top knot, your posture as you shielded him the best you could, the feeling of your robes on his fingertips. But it was no use. There was no point in it all. None of it would lead him to you. For all he knew, you were probably dead.

That prospect terrifies him so much that he refuses to utter a word about you into existence.

After countless days of following the giant fire nation ship from a considerable distance behind, you were grateful when they finally docked. You were beyond starved, stupidly underestimating how long Azula would be at sea. It seems you got a little too cocky in your abilities over the years. Shaking your head, you put yourself into a more focused mindset, now more than ever, you couldn’t afford to be sloppy. Tying your small boat to a dock which situated behind some rocky mountains and far away from any view from where their ship was, you began your search for robes to blend in.

Swiftly moving about in the shadows to avoid any interaction with people off Azula’s boat, you manage to ascend the stairs leading up to an Earth Kingdom village. Upon seeing the first clothesline with clothes that look like you could fit into, you grab the pink robes. Grabbing some extra cloth, you make a makeshift mask to shield your face and neck, and wind small pieces around your hands completely. Finally, and most importantly, you double checked to ensure that all of your weapons were strapped securely underneath.

Satisfied with your disguise, you decide to head near the dock to check if Azula’s made any advancements in her plan to get her brother and uncle back. However, you faltered, hearing a small argument break out a few huts away. Initially, you dismiss it, although just as you were about to journey back down the mountain, you felt something… like a crack of lighting waiting to go off.

Azula.

You follow the sounds of the argument and Azula’s inner fire. Hiding within a bush near an open window; you listen in on whatever was going on inside.

“What are you doing here?!”

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions. Have you become uncivilised so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!”

Eyes widening at the realisation, wait… that’s Zuko?

“To what do we owe this honour?” You quickly assume that’s their uncle.

“Hmm, must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point.” Azula’s voice is harsh, almost as if she’s ready to strike.

Must she be so dramatic?

“I’ve come with a message from home. Fathers changed his mind, family is suddenly very important to him. He’s heard rumours of plans to overthrow him—treacherous plots. Family are the only ones you can really trust. Father regrets your banishment; he wants you home.”

At Zuko’s lack of response, you grew worried. No Zuko don’t-

“Did you hear me?! You should be happy. Excited. Grateful! I just gave you great news.”

You felt Zuko come closer to the window. He felt more muted… less angry.

“I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment…”

Azula snapped at Iroh. “Don’t interrupt uncle! I still haven’t heard my thank you. I’m not a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way.”

“Father regrets? He… wants me back?”

Fuck! Don’t listen to her you coal brain!

“I can see you need time to take this in. I’ll come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

As Azula left back to the ship, you cursed under your breath. Yes, you knew your job. And yes, you knew what would happen to Zuko and Iroh if they foolishly believed the princess. You needed a plan.

Maybe if I could just… steer him in another direction, help bring light to the situation. Maybe they’ll listen. Quietly retreating away from the hut, you walked into the town, looking for a way to talk to them without being obvious.

A few hours later, the best you could come up with was to deliver them some food for the evening, pretending you worked for the owner of all the huts. It wasn’t your best plan, but most people openly welcome free food, so it was good enough. But for the first time in your life, you felt nerves, unlike any other. Sure, you were nervous when you jumped to save Zuko, but this was different. Then, your nerves activated your fight responses, but today? These were the kind of nerves that made you want to run away because you’ve already gone over the multitude of possibilities that might occur. But of course, you dismissed the thoughts of running away, because once again, you were on a mission to save his life despite the threats Ozai made you.

Did he forget about me as I told him to, all those years ago? Hopefully, he did. After all, he is alive.

Just as you were about to enter, you heard his voice inside. “We’re going home! After three long years. It’s unbelievable!” Your eyes widened at the excitement in his tone. That wasn’t a good sign considering what you were about to do.

“It is unbelievable. I have never known my brother to regret anything.”

“Did you listen to Azula? Fathers realised how important family is to him. He cares about me!” Now you began to seriously contemplate on walking in there right now, and beating him until he came to his senses.

It seemed Iroh wasn’t having it either. “I care about you! And if Ozai wants you back well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine.”

“You don’t know how my father feels about me. You don’t know anything!”

“Zuko, I only meant that in our family things are not always what they seem.”

“I think you’re exactly what you seem. A lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who’s always been jealous of his brother!”

Okay, I’ve heard enough coal brain.

You let out a deep, shaky breath. It seems no matter how hard you try to keep your cool, you’ll never be entirely ready for what you’re about to throw yourself into. Balancing the tray of food in your left arm, you round the corner to the front of the hut, emitting a firm knock onto the side of the entryway.

Zuko whips around at the sound. “Who are you? What do you want!”

As he looks at you with his harsh and angry glare, you feel like you’ve been smacked in the face multiple times. Ironically, you also knew it had been precisely three years since you jumped to save him, and now you finally get to witness the full extent of your failure. Heart tightening at the severe contrast to how he sounded all those years ago, you take in his pain. His anger.

Feeling the intense fire burning inside of him from his anger and rage, it almost takes you back. It seems that the years he spent away from his old home has damaged the afraid, innocent boy you once knew. As you wear your stolen robes and mask shielding your neck, a nasty feeling forms in your gut. You have always been able to cover your extensive scars with clothing, but him? His scar is almost too much of a visual representation for you to bear.

I should have moved to the left a bit more; then he wouldn’t have it. If I just aimed better when I jumped, he wouldn’t have to live like this. Maybe if I succeeded, he wouldn’t be so bitter.

Not letting how frustrated you feel towards yourself show, you bow to him and his uncle.

“My apologies, I did not mean to disturb you this evening. I am only here to deliver you some food, it’s on the house.”

This only fuels his anger, irritated that you weren’t anyone of great significance. “Fine. Just place it over there and leave us!”

Iroh sighs, walking towards you. “Zuko, that is no way to treat a young lady. My apologies for my nephew’s behaviour Miss, he has recently received some unexpected news today. Thank you for your services.”

You give a light smile, even though he can’t see it. “No, it’s alright. I understand how hard it may be to truly know what is the right choice when brought with unexpected circumstances.”

“I’m sorry who are you? Who do you think you are?! You know nothing, not even anything remotely similar to the situation I’m in. So don’t go around assuming you understand anything! You have no right coming in here and thinking you can help me in any way.”

His hostility begins to feel normal; you knew you should have expected him to be like this. “Of course my apologies sir, how could I be so senseless. I don’t mean to overstep. I only wish you relieve you of some of your stress. I meant no disrespect.”

At that moment, you almost slapped yourself. Idiot, why did I say that?

Zuko faltered, overwhelmed with the words you just slapped him with. And you said them on today of all days?

“What did you just say?”

Iroh who was intently watching you throughout the interaction snapped his attention towards his nephew, “Zuko, please, she only-“

“I’m sorry I meant no disrespect sir I-“

“Get out.”

Understanding that he wasn’t ready to take any guidance or advice from you, you silently bowed, turning to leave.

Just as you were about to walk out completely, you glanced back at him looking him in his golden, raged filled eyes, “pain doesn’t leave you forever Prince Zuko. It lingers. You should take the past and let it guide your future journey, not let it control you.”

As you stepped out into the unforgiving cold air, Zuko was frozen, gaping at the doorway where you once stood. How you knew of his true identity was beyond him, yet there was something hidden, masked beneath your final statement that didn’t sit right with him. The hair on his skin is standing at the entire interaction that just occurred. Of course, he had no idea who you were, so why did it feel like you knew more than you let on? Did you know anything about his past? Shaking it off, he continued to pack in silence. Even Iroh didn’t say a word.

Descending the mountain back towards your ship, words that you had memorised and locked away for years, suddenly resurfaced.

Maybe Azula was right after all.

Early the next morning, you rose with the sun. Soon after eating some breakfast made out of the fish you hunted last night, you decided to make your way near the massive ship. As per Ozai’s orders, you hid behind some greenery into a position that left you unseen to everyone.

Eventually, they showed up to the docks, and honestly, you were upset that Iroh was unable to get through to his nephew. But there was nothing you could do about it right now.

Due to the distance, you weren’t able to make out what they were saying, leaving you to have to read Azula’s lips, as she was the only one you could clearly see. Yet that didn’t seem to matter because soon enough, a fight broke out.

That’s not looking too good.

Knowing better than to expose yourself right away, you waited. Telling yourself that if they needed help, then and only then, would you help them.

After a few minutes, you watched lighting make impact with one of the rocky cliffs, sending rocks all around. With Zuko and Iroh running off the ship to escape, you knew it was time to run after them. Help them find a way to get away from Azula for good. Although, as you stood, you suddenly felt lightheaded and your vision got blurry, sending you straight to the ground.

What the heck?

Struggling to gain any body strength, you tried to get up again, but it was useless. The hair across your body stood up, but you weren’t cold, you were sweating. Looking down, you saw that your hands were alit in fire.

W-what?! What’s happening to me! Stop it y/n. Stop. Turn it off.

Panicking you tried to shake it away, but nothing was working, and your breath began to quicken.

What’s happening?! No. Stop. No!

Suddenly, you lost all sight of what was in front of you, and a blinding white light encompassed your mind. You closed your eyes, but it didn’t go away. When you reopened your eyes, you were faced with scenery you had never seen before. In the distance, high above you, there was an older man in what appeared to be old Fire Nation robes, and a young boy dressed as an Air Nomad on a dragon.

Is that the Avatar?

Due to the distance, you couldn’t make out what they were saying, and they seemed so engrossed in their conversation, they didn’t see you. This prompted you to do the only logical thing anyone could do; you screamed.

“HEYYY! DOWN HERE!! I COULD USE A LITTLE HELPPPPP!!!”

Instead of hearing you, your surroundings began to change. First, there was a lady dressed in Kyoshi attire. Then suddenly, you were in the middle of the ocean with a man from the Water Tribe about to send a massive wave towards you.

Holy shit.

Before you could react, your surroundings changed once again, and you were in the middle of a field with a female Airbender, soon switching to a Firebender erupting volcanoes around him.

Okay, what in Spirits name is happening to me.

You tried to scream again, but it was no use. It was like an awful dream, unable to move and watching events happen before you. No matter how much you screamed or flailed your arms around, neither person on the dragon seemed to be able to notice you. Letting out a final scream of desperation, you were ready to give up.

Where the hell am I? Is this a dream? Am I trapped here? WHAT EVEN IS HERE?!

Nothing made any sense anymore; you were almost ready to admit defeat. But then you saw it. It happened so fast, and you nearly missed it. Yet as your body became frigid in shock, you knew it happened.

The dragon looked at you.

Is… is that dragon fucking smirking?! Ohmyspirits it’s going to eat me. Who would have known, death by spirit dragon.

Enough with your blabbering y/n. I apologise, but it’s not time yet. You were taken aback, shocked that you received a response from the dragon.

How did you get in my head?! And time? Time for what! For you to eat me?!

Completely disregarding your concerns, the dragon’s eyes turned to stare back at you. Almost as if it were peering into your soul. The people upon him didn’t even notice the dragon’s current focus. Look at what they’ve done to you… if only they knew. We will meet again y/n, when it’s time.

The white light re-entered your mind, blinding you once again. Only this time, you were met with darkness.

A/N: Thank you for reading!! What did you think of the lil reunion??

GAHAHAHA we lowkey on some kdrama energy out here but anywaysss! please don’t be shy,, let me know what you think or send a message! i feel like this series is going downhill a lot faster than i expected :// idk anyway! even if its not related to my fics,, homie gets a lil lonely so id love to chat 😊

TAGLIST:

@slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​​​ @kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​ @ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​ @nnon-it-up​ @lozzybowe​

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Fool For You (3/4)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Part 3 of a request for @mynameisliterallycash

You and Lester hunkered down in his cabin to wait out the rain. Once you were safe inside, you returned his hat to his head, thanking him for letting you borrow it. He had smiled at you and made himself comfortable on the couch, telling you to make yourself at home. He sat back and began polishing some bones he’d found a few days ago.

You sat down next to him in comfortable silence, though the thoughts racing through your head kept you from enjoying it. You were getting the growing suspicion that Lester didn’t like you back. Every word and move you made to be closer to him – to make your feelings clear – wasn’t registering. If he really wasn’t getting it at this point, you feared that may be confirmation enough that Lester didn’t feel the same way as you. Sure, he was always kind and considerate toward you, but he was like that with everyone he met. You were starting wonder if you were special to him at all – if any of what he’d done for you over the time you’d known him was just for you. You realized perhaps you were not as important to him as you thought you were. There you were having a crisis and Lester was none the wiser, whistling without a care in the world.

The very idea of that possible reality was agonizing. You never knew something as wonderful as love could hurt so bad. It should be so simple. You didn’t think you were asking for much. You just wanted him; to always feel him next to you. You longed to be close to him any way that you could. But now, even though he was sitting right beside you, you had never felt so far away from him.

Your thoughts had you reeling and you needed to ground yourself. You need to know Lester was really there with you – to know you were real too. You slowly moved until you were right beside him, never taking your eyes from his concentrated figure. You then rested your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his in an embrace and pulling him as close as physically possible. You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his body against yours, clinging to him like he might disappear. You felt it was the strangest thing when tears started burning behind your eyes. You thought it was silly that you were so sad before he’d even let you down. It was like your heart and head knew it was inevitable and were merely preparing you for the dam that was about to break. Lester paused his polishing to glance down at you with an inquisitive look.

“Ya gettin’ sleepy on me, Y/N?” he asked quietly, trying not to disturb you too much.

“No,” You said as you managed to force the tears out of your sight. You managed a pathetic smile as you looked up at him to meet his gaze, “I just wanted to sit next to you.”

“C’mon now, ya don’t gotta be proud. Don’t stay awake on my account.” Lester told you with a clueless chuckle, “Your eyes are lookin’ a little red, a nap might do ya some good. It’s been a long day and all.”

“I don’t need a nap, Les. I just want to sit here with you.” You said, fighting against the tension in your throat, “Just sit here with me, okay.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Lester continued despite your request. He was totally unaware. “Let me get ya a blanket and pillow. Can’t have ya gettin’ a stiff neck leanin’ on me. I’m all bones.”

“I don’t want a pillow or a blanket.” You said as the frustration started to show in your voice.

“It’s no trouble, Y/N. Be right back.” Lester said patting your hands in reassurance, trying to get you to ease up on the vice like grip you had on his arm. He stood up from the couch, but you stood with him, surprising him.

“Don’t you get it, Lester?” your voice trembled, barely audible, “I just want to be with you.”

“You are with me, Y/N.” Lester responded, concern furrowing his brow. He could have sworn you were fine just a moment ago and now you sounded on the verge of tears. He didn’t know why you suddenly seemed so sad, but he was willing to do anything to make you happy again. He didn’t know what to say to make it better, “I was just goin’ to the closet, I was gonna come right back. I ain’t plannin’ on leavin’ ya alone or nothin’.”

“You don’t understand.” You said more to yourself than to him.

“Well, hold on, I might if ya give me a chance.” Lester told you, carefully taking you by the shoulders and trying to lean down to meet your eyes. You averted your gaze to the ground, afraid to face him and his disarming brown stare.  “Y/N–”

“I love you, Lester.”

“Well, that’s sweet. I love ya too.” Lester said, releasing your shoulders and standing straight.

You snapped your head up to look at him, finding him mostly unaffected by your words. He offered you a small smile, though it was still laced with concern and confusion. You stared at him in disbelief; the loudest silence echoed in your head at his response. Did he really just tell you he loved you back like it was nothing? Had you heard him incorrectly? Did he understand what those words meant to you? You couldn’t tell if your heart was pounding with hope or your stomach was filling with dread.

“You do? You really love me?” you asked, time standing still. Your every hope and prayer resting on what he said next.

“You’re the best friend I ever had, course I love ya.”

Friend.

Your heart shattered in two. You never hated a word so much in your life. You never thought one word could bring you so much anger and pain. You felt like you’d been punched in the stomach and air couldn’t reach your lungs. The life was being choked out of you by the one person you were living for and he didn’t even know it.

His capacity of love for you only amounted to a friend. You had your answer: he didn’t love you back – not the way you loved him. Of course, he didn’t love you. Things like this rarely ever work out how you want them. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but suddenly you couldn’t stand looking at him anymore.

“You know what, I think I’m going to go now.” You said as calmly as you could manage. You didn’t want to take your disappointment out on him and you definitely didn’t want him to see you cry.

“What? Why?” Lester asked, alarmed at your abrupt decision to depart, “You don’t gotta leave.”

“No, I do. I forgot I promised Vincent I’d help him with something.” You made up, “I just have to get out here. I’m sorry, Lester.”

“Hey, wait a minute. It’s still rainin’ somethin’ fierce out there. If ya gotta go back, let me drive ya. Just let me grab my keys.” Lester told you, not wanting to end the day like this. He knew you weren’t telling him everything, but he need more time to get it out of you. All he knew was that you were hurting and he wanted to help.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’d rather walk.” You said anxiously, making a beeline for the door. Lester felt his heart sink at your words as he rushed to meet you at the door before you could open it. He put a firm hand over the one you had resting on the door knob, stopping you from pulling away.

“Don’t do this, Y/N.” Lester pleaded, “What’s got ya all riled up? Is it somethin’ I did? I’m sorry if I upset ya. Whatever it is, ya just tell me and I won’t do it again.”

“It’s nothing you did. I just want to go.” your voice cracked as you started to lose the fight against tears blurring your sight.

“Please don’t leave. Just stay here and talk to me. I wanna help.” Lester begged in a low voice, desperate for you to look at him. He’d never seen you so distressed and he’d never felt so useless.

“Everything’s fine.” You insisted, violently rubbing at your eyes with your free hand, glaring at your shoes through the teardrops.

“I ain’t as dumb as I look. I know ya ain’t fine, Y/N.” he said firmly.

“I said I’m fine!”

“Well, look at me, then.” Lester implored, reaching out to touch your cheek, but you shied away. That shocked him. You’d never dodged his touch before.

“Please don’t.” You whispered, burying your face in your sleeve to hide the fact you were full on crying now. Lester felt sick to his stomach. It was like him being near you was what was causing you pain and it tore him up inside. He knew whatever it was that had upset you, he was to blame.

“You know I’d do anythin’ for ya,” he reminded you, squeezing your hand in his, “But I can’t do nothin’ ‘less ya tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“I did tell you,” you said with a humorless laugh. You looked at where his hand covered yours, wishing it affected him the way it affected you. With a shaky breath, you finally looked him in the eyes, studying the worry etched into his features. He felt a stabbing pain in his chest from your tearstained face and bleary eyes. Even though your heart was breaking, you still offered him a small smile and a bitter shrug, “I told you. You didn’t understand.”

“Let me try again.” Lester requested in a desperate whisper, pulling your trembling hand from the door to hold completely in his stable grasp.

There was only one thing left that might make him realize what’s going on. You felt your body drifting closer to his, taking a slow step toward him so you were mere inches away from one another. You could feel warmth radiating from him, setting your nerves alight. But there was no turning back now. Not anymore. His soulful brown eyes bore into yours, never breaking away as you gradually brought your face up to his. He didn’t move, but his eyes widened at your growing proximity. You stared at one another for one more heartbeat.

Your closed your eyes and gently pressed your lips against his, catching his gasp in a kiss. For a moment, the world fell away and you did all that you could to convey everything you’d wanted Lester to know in what could be your first and only kiss. You lingered, desperate to memorize the feeling of his lips to the way your head was spinning with stars.

When you pulled away, Lester was silent for the first time you’d known him. He was stunned and you couldn’t tell if was seeing you or not. He didn’t move. You searched desperately for some response or sign of life, but he simply stood there. Just like with all the other times you tried to tell him how you felt: nothing.

You hung your head with a brokenhearted sigh, but forced yourself to look back up at him to tell say one last thing. Tears freely cascaded down your cheeks as you were too tired to bother holding them back. There was no point anymore, now that he knew.

“I love you, Lester. Not just as a friend. Totally and completely, in every way. I love you. You’re the best person I know and I think about you every second of every day. All I want is to be with you, all the time. Because everything is always better when it’s you and me.” You finally told him. You pulled your hand from his and opened the door, letting the rain fill the quiet between you. You took a step outside, “And what I said to you earlier about wishing I could find the Johnny to my June? I found him the day you pulled up next to me and told me your name.”

With that you slammed the door behind you and ran into the storm as fast as you could.

[thegreatestofheck]

Ocean and Alcohol ✘JJ Maybank✘

(not my Gif. All credit for gif to Maequil!)

masterlist for all completed parts can be found here! Word Count - 5,887 Warnings - There’s a lot of talk about abuse in all forms, but no graphic descriptions. Underage drinking, swearing, and a bit of fighting.  Synopsis - You’re a kook, but your life is less than ideal. After a fight with some of the other kooks, you let slip a little about your home life to one JJ Maybank, who is more than intrigued.  A/N - Literally no one asked for this, but here it is anyway. This one’s in the second person like most reader inserts, but because I’ve always found Y/N to be incredibly distracting, I gave the “you” a name, but you can always change it as you read. I also might do more with these two. Who am I kidding I probably will. Thank you all so much for your time!

Alcohol thrummed through your system, moving your body to the beat of the music. Sarah Cameron, Queen Kook of the Outer Banks, danced beside you. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but when the other kooks got too much to handle, you turned to each other. You hadn’t intended to spend the night dancing beside Sarah Cameron, but the pogues threw a kegger and you were the last person to miss a party. Unfortunately, that meant interacting with the three groups of people you hated the most; the kooks, the pogues, and the tourons. So, pretty much, everybody on this island. Still, there was free booze and music, which was all you needed to shut the rest of the world out. Things turned sour when the big three, the trifecta of asshats, stepped in to join the party. Topper, Kelce, and the worst of the bunch, Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s very own brother. He was cruel to everyone, not just you, but you hated him anyway. But he wasn’t going to ruin your night. Your dad had left for the mainland for a few days, which meant you could finally breathe. It didn’t matter if Rafe was staring you down from across the beach, high of his ass, wanting to start a fight with literally anyone. There was no way you were getting in a fight tonight, not when you had the house to yourself. The night was cool, the waves sloshing against the shore, the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. For once in your life, everything felt peaceful.

Peace, however, was against Rafe’s coding. He always had to start something. “Hey, Elma! Did you learn to dance like from your Mommy?” Rafe called across the beach. You dropped your arms, the sway in your hips freezing. Ice ran through your veins. You met Sarah’s eyes. She shook her head slowly, continuing to follow the beat of the music. But Rafe had sufficiently ticked you off, his one and only talent. With a huff, you stepped down from the fallen tree you were dancing on and stormed through the sand, marching past Rafe. 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you seethed as you walked past him. You listened to the howling laughter of Rafe and his friends get drowned out by the crashing waves. When you could no longer hear the music or the laughter or the chitter-chatter of the party, you plopped down in the sand. 

You called it the goldilocks zone. It was the part of the beach where you could keep your feet in the water without getting your shorts wet by the waves. It was the best place to be when you needed to get your mind off of something. The water was cold enough to chill your senses and clear your mind, the wind blowing the tears off of your face. 

You weren’t sure why you always let him get to you. He was just an idiot boy who had too much money and time on his hands with pockets full of insecurities that he projects onto others. It wasn’t your fault his mom left him and his family. It wasn’t your fault his dad expected him to take an inch of responsibility every now and again. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that he was addicted to whatever drugs he had snorted that day. But he somehow managed to make you feel like it. 

Every muscle in your body tensed, every nerve on fire. You weren’t sure it was from the alcohol or from your anger, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. With a growl of irritation, you pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes. Your knees bounced up and down from the adrenaline that coursed through you. Tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks, and, frustrated by your tears, you picked up a handful of sand and chucked it into the ocean. You stood with a grumble or two about idiot boys, determined to return to the party. Besides, your shoes and purse were still at the tree that you had been dancing on and you weren’t going to leave without your shoes. 

You didn’t get very far before you heard the sound of a fisticuff not too far ahead of her. Sure, you were sick of the fighting, you saw enough of it at home, but when you caught sight of the irritating shade of pink that was Topper’s signature polo shirt, you knew that this was not a fight you were about to miss. Your frustration flooded out of your system as you snuck closer, just to see who the players were. If Topper was there, that meant that Kelce and Rafe were the others on his team. The other team was two boys, but she couldn’t see their faces in the darkness. They were getting beat pretty badly. One was on the ground, Kelce sitting on top of him and shoving his face into the sand. The other was being held by Topper as Rafe beat the shit out of him. 

A smile pulled at your lips. Payback was in your sight and it was going to be very sweet. 

You leaped over the trunk you were using as a hide-away and ran toward Rafe at full speed. The sheer weight of your momentum threw him off his feet. As soon as he hit the sand, you had him by his shirt and started to pound the shit out of his face. 

“I...learned...this...from...my...Daddy!” With every word, you smashed your fist into his face again. It really didn’t take long for your fist to feel sore, but the adrenaline kept you going.

“Look out!” one of the boys said, too little too late. The next second, someone had you by the shoulders and threw you to the ground. You were met with a mouth full of sand. Coughing and spluttering, you tried to stand up, but not before Topper, who was now standing above you, started to kick you in the stomach. 

“Lay off her man!” The blows to your stomach subsided. When you looked up to see who had pulled Topper off of you, you wish you hadn’t jumped into the fight. It was none other than JJ Fucking Maybank. If JJ was here, then the other boy must have been John B. A pair of arms was pulling on her, attempting to help her sit up. “Get off me,” you snapped, pulling your shoulder away. “I was just trying to help,” the boy by your side said. It was definitely John B. You narrowed your eyes at him and stood. Rafe was still on the ground, groaning and moaning over his face while Kelce tried to get him to stand up. Topper was getting his shit rocked by JJ. 

“JJ, that’s enough,” John B said. The blond-haired pogue looked up from Topper toward John B. There was a look in his eyes that was all too familiar to you. “Let him go, man,” you said finally. JJ scoffed and uncurled his fist from around Topper’s shirt. Topper slid away and helped Rafe all the way to his feet.    “This isn’t over,” Rafe said, pointing a finger at you. You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Go cry to your Mommy, Rafe,” you spat, before mock pouting. “Oh, wait….” Rafe lunged at you, but Topper and Kelce held him back. Both JJ and John B took a step forward to face him head-on if he charged, but you didn’t flinch. There was no way he was coming back for a round two. 

“She’s not worth it man,” Kelce said. You gave the three of them a smile and a petty wave as they stumbled away. Without another word, you started back toward the party. “Hey, wait!” JJ yelled from behind, but you kept walking forward. “Elma, wait.” He jogged over to you and you spun around before he reached you, a finger ready to shove in his face. “Don’t call me that, Maybank.” “Fine, whatever. I have your shoes and your bag,” he said, pointing back. Through the darkness, you could see that your shoes were sitting just under a trunk, your bag hanging from a branch. “Why do you have my stuff?” You asked as you walked over to snatch your things off the ground. “Well, I saw you storm off and I didn’t know if you were coming back so I thought-” “Bringing me my shoes won’t get you in my pants, Maybank,” you said as you slipped your sandals onto your feet. “That’s not why-” You rolled your eyes, cutting off his sentence. JJ cleared his throat. “Thank you for helping us,” John B said, walking up beside JJ. You scoffed, still trying to get your shoes on your feet. “I wasn’t helping you. You just gave me an excuse to hit Rafe.” “Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive,” JJ said. He crossed his arms, his signature smirk hung on his lips. You wanted to roll your eyes again. “You going to rejoin the party?” He asked. “Not with you.” “Why do you hate me?” “Because you’re a prick, Maybank.” “C’mon,” John B said, putting out a mediatory hand between the two of you. “There’s no need for hostility.” “Hostility?” You asked, standing and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Last time I spoke to either of you, you were stealing my little brother’s bike.” “We were going to give it back,” JJ said. You glared at him. “You pogues are all alike,” you said with a bitter laugh, anger bubbling up in your belly. “You think that, because you were born with nothing, you can take whatever you want from us.” “You act like your daddy didn’t by Kid a new bike the next day,” JJ sneered. You let out a steadying breath, resisting every urge to break your hand against his face. “I spent months saving up for that bike for my brother,” you said. “My dad blamed me when it went missing.” John B blanched and began to inch away, but JJ was stuck where he was, trapped in your deadly gaze. “You ‘worked’?” JJ laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

Shoving your bag back against the trunk, taking a step forward to stand only inches away from JJ. You heard him catch his breath. “My dad doesn’t give me or my brother anything. I have to work to buy my brother school supplies. I worked overtime for weeks for that bike.” For once in his godforsaken life, JJ was speechless. “Have you ever thought for just one second, that you’re not the only person in the world who has a shitty life? Hmm?” Again, he was quiet. John B was quietly kicking a stick in the sand a few yards away, hands shoved into his pockets. You scoffed again. “Of course you haven’t because the world revolves around you, doesn’t it? Newsflash, bucko, you’re not the only person on the planet who is hurting. So, I apologize if I’m hostile, but I have every reason to be.” You had nothing else to say. You probably said too much already. Neither JJ nor John B had anything else to say either. You nodded slowly, pulling the strap of your bag over your shoulder again. You stepped away from them, wandering into the trees past the beach on your way toward your home.  ***

You shifted the bag on your shoulder with a sigh, slamming the door of your truck shut. The sun was slowly going down over the trees as you walked up to your house. It was never a place you felt like you could call ‘home’, but it was where you lived for the last 17 years of your life. “Hey, Elma!” You froze for a moment and let out a deep sigh, hanging your head. You knew that voice. “I told you not to call me that, Maybank,” you said, continuing to walk toward your porch. “Well, I don’t know your last name so I don’t know what else to call you,” he said. “I’ll just call you Ellie, or something.” “Whatever.” “Wait, wait!” You kept walking. That’s when you heard the ringing of a quiet bike bell. You stopped again and turned around slowly. JJ was standing near your car, a stupid grin on his face, and his hands on a red bike. Your brother’s bike. You fought the urge to smile. You crossed your arms, leaning your weight on one of your hips. “Did you feel guilty for stealing my innocent brother’s bike?” you asked. JJ shrugged. “You’re right about what you said. Kid didn’t deserve to get his bike taken.” “What was that?” You put a hand behind your ear. “What did you just say?” JJ sighed, but his smile didn’t fall. “You were right, Ellie,” he said. “Thank you for bringing the bike back, JJ. I’ll see you around.” You turned back around toward your house. “Wait, Ellie.” You heard the bike creak as it fell and JJ mutter a quiet ‘ow’. You wanted to turn around and see what happened, but that would lose the dramatic flare. “I wanted to ask you something.” “Shoot.” You didn’t stop, but neither did JJ. “You said something when you were beating the absolute shit out of Rafe the other day, which was totally sick, by the way.” You automatically knew what he was talking about and your stomach dropped. “You said something about your dad and I wanted to know what you meant by it.” “Are you high right now?” “No, I’m-” You could hear the frustration in his voice. The poor boy. “I just want to know what you meant.” In the next few moments, you hadn’t meant to get angry, but whenever someone brought up her dad it was like vomiting. It was a visceral reaction that you couldn’t control. “You’re not the only one who gets knocked around by your old man, Maybank,” you snapped and turned around. You hated seeing the hurt on his face, but you pushed past the shame that ate away at you. “How did you-” “Oh, please, I could smell it off of you from the day I met you.” You paused for a quick breath and your voice quieted, but the taste of your next words was bitter. “Takes one to know one.” Your anger cooled when JJ glanced down at the ground, fiddling with his fingers. You rolled the inside of your lip between your teeth for a moment before turning around and walking up the stairs to your home. Once on the patio, you stopped again and turned to face him one more time. “Do you want to have a beer?” You asked, pinching your eyebrows together, eyes closed. JJ looked up at you, his eyes full of confusion. You were clearly giving him very mixed vibes and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure if you were offering an olive branch or welcoming him inside to chew his head off. Eventually, he nodded. “Maybe we can swap sob stories,” you offered as he walked up your front stairs. You tried to smile at him. “Then you might not hate me so much,” he said, his usual joking demeanor returning. “I don’t hate you,” you told him as you unlocked your door. “You sure your dad won’t mind us taking a few beers?” JJ asked, jumping over what you said entirely. It gave you time to collect yourself, shoving down the anger and the fear and the anxiety talking about your dad built up in you. For once in your life, you were in the presence of someone you thought might actually understand how you felt on a daily basis. “Nah,” you said. “The beer’s mine. I keep it stored somewhere that he won’t find.” 

You led JJ through your enormous, empty house toward the dining room and kitchen area. “Your house is so-” “Cold? Empty? An abyss of darkness waiting to swallow you whole?” “Clean.” “Oh, well, that’s way less dramatic.” To your surprise, JJ laughed. “You know, you’re way funnier than everyone gives you credit for,” he said as you turned into the dining room, where a long, unset table stretched from end to end. He plopped down in one of the chairs as you headed for the kitchen. “Thank you,” you said, eyebrows pinched together. “I think.” “Sure, no problem.” JJ kicked his feet up onto the table, leaning the chair back. You tried not to cringe as pieces of mud and grass dropped onto the table. There was no point in fussing over it now. You would just clean it up later. You returned a few seconds later with a pack of beer, handing one to JJ. You popped yours open with a bottle opener and offered it to JJ, but he declined. Instead, he popped his can on the wooden table. You flinched as the bottle cap flew across the room. Making a mental note of where it landed, you took a long swig of beer. “What is your worst memory of your dad?” JJ asked, after taking an even longer gulp of beer. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand. You watched in dismay as a few droplets fell to the floor. “So you’re going straight in for the kill,” you said with a strained laugh. JJ shrugged, taking another drink. You swallowed. The memory came to the front of your mind as soon as he mentioned it. It was what kept you up at night, what you thought of every time your dad raised his voice. With a heavy sigh and a partial smile, you began to talk. “Kid was washing the dishes after dinner. He dropped a dish and I knew it was going to set my dad off. Everything makes him angry, but he gets especially mad when things weren’t clean. He is the definition of a neat freak. I tried to clean up the glass before he got there, but I got cut by one of the pieces.” You said and let out another shaky breath, running your fingers across the base of your palm. “Dad came careening around the corner at full speed, saw me on the floor and assumed I had done it. Beat the shit out of me. He probably wouldn’t have stopped if my mom hadn’t stepped in. When my mom got his attention off me, I took Kid and I ran upstairs, locked us in the closet. We listened to them scream at each other for hours, throwing everything they could get their hands on at each other. That whole time, I still had that piece of glass in my hand. I didn’t realize I was pushing it deeper and deeper into my skin until everything had settled.” 

You took your hand off of the beer bottle and showed JJ the thick scar running underneath your thumb. He reached out and ran his thumb over the length of the scar, sending shivers up your spine. You snatched your hand back and shook away the aftershock. “It’s a reminder now,” you said. “Of what?” He asked. “That no matter what my dad says, no matter how much he tells me he loves me, there is not a single bone in his body that really cares about me.” You finished with a smile, hoping to convince JJ that it didn’t really matter, that it didn’t bother you. You weren’t sure if he believed you. “What happened to your mom?” “Oh no, bucko. It’s my turn to ask the question.” “That’s the second time you’ve called me bucko.” “It’s fitting.” 

You took a shallow drink, forcing the queasy feeling in your stomach aside. His smile was sickening in all the right ways, which made you want to hurl your guts out. 

“What’s your question?” JJ leaned back again, putting one hand behind his head. “God, do you ever shower?” You asked with an added cough. “You smell like fish.” “That’s just the pheromones.” “Do you even know what that means?” “It’s the sexy smell that animals use to get their game on,” he said and you resisted the urge to facepalm. “You really are the dumbest person I’ve ever met,” you said, trying to cover your laughter with a drink. “Alright, I’m taking that as your question, my turn again.” “No, wait-” “You want to have sex?” You choked on the beer you just chugging, spluttering as you tried to swallow again. “I’m sorry, what?” You managed between coughs. You looked at him with raised eyebrows as he leaned forward. “Wanna have sex?” He leaned even closer, setting his beer on the table. You couldn’t help the small laugh that broke through your mouth as you shook your head. “No,” you said, a smile spreading across your lips. “No, I don’t.” JJ leaned back and shrugged, obviously trying not to look hurt. In a hurried attempt to try and cover for yourself, you put a hand on his elbow.

“It’s got nothing to do with you, Maybank. I mean, you’re hot as hell.” You let out a quick breath and watched the corner of his mouth twinge upward. “I just don’t do sex.” “You a celibate?” He asked, taking a drink. You rolled your eyes. “If I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business.” He raised an eyebrow, as if asking the question again. “No, I’m not celibate.” “Does it involve any more traumatic events in your life, because I thought we were sharing sob stories,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees again. You narrowed your eyes playfully. “From where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m the only one sharing the sob stories.” “Then move closer.” “You want to unlock the tragic backstory as to why I won’t have sex?” You asked, lifting your chin. JJ nodded with that sickening smile. God, this boy was something else. “Then you have to tell me something first.” “Alright.” JJ sat up straight and crossed his arms. “Alright?” “Mmm-hmm. Let’s see.” He tapped his chin as if thinking, but you knew he had already decided what he was going to say. “My dad used to be my hero until my mom left. I wanted to be like him. And now I’m afraid that my fate-” he spat the word out like poison, “-is to be exactly like him; drunk, addicted to drugs, unable to love or be loved. It’s why I push people away, so I don’t inevitably hurt them.” Your throat tightened as he spoke. You knew the feeling all too well. “Wow,” you said, voice thick. You clear your throat with a cough and took a swig from your near-empty bottle. “Was that good enough?” JJ asked. | “Yeah, no, that was pretty good.” You forced a smile onto your face. “I didn’t know you knew big words like ‘inevitably’.” You were glad to see him smile back. “I’m smarter than I look.” He waited for you to start your story, but when it was clear you weren’t going to without incentive, he spoke again. “I think we had a deal, Ellie.” 

“Fine.” Before speaking, you chugged the rest of the beer in your bottle and opened another one. You took a long drink of that one as well and sucked in a deep breath. “Promise you won’t tell anyone.” “I promise,” JJ said with a laugh. “Cause my dad will kill me, and I mean actually kill me and throw my body into the ocean if he finds out I told anyone.” “I promise,” he said again, this time far more sincere. “Okay.” You nodded, hyping yourself up. You had never uttered these words before in your life. Not even Kid knew. And the last thing you wanted to do was talk about it and cry in front of JJ. “I was pregnant.” JJ sat up, his eyes wide. It seemed like the last thing he was expecting. A sudden flurry of tears gathered in your eyes. Shame ate at your guts once again. Embarrassment gnawed at the edges of your cheeks, making them red. He was now officially the only person on the planet who knew your darkest secrets outside of your parents. You forced yourself to keep talking before you broke down completely. “I was fourteen and I was pregnant. I wanted to keep the baby because I didn’t think there was any point in killing it because what had it done wrong?” You took another sip to hide a tear that fell from your eye. “But my parents wouldn’t have it. They made me...it doesn’t matter now. I couldn’t ruin their reputation, could I? But when we were at the clinic my mom got them to do a DNA test without me or my dad knowing and when she found out who the dad was...well, she left the next day without a word. Left the results on the table as some kind of note.” You finished, your hands shaking slightly. You took a few more deep drinks of the beer in your hand. “Damn,” JJ said. You scoffed. “Yeah, right?” “The father of your baby.” He choked over the word. “It was your dad, wasn’t it?” You set your jaw, not wanting to look at him. It was like his eyes could see right through you. You couldn’t imagine what kind of horrible things he was thinking about you. You didn’t want to think about it. How horrible you must look in his eyes. You took in a few deep breaths and nodded your head slowly. “Hey,” he said. “I don’t usually do the emotional shit, but that wasn’t your fault, Ellie.” “I know,” you said. That was the last thing your mom had said to you before she vanished. You told yourself that every night. “No, I don’t think you understand,” JJ said, hooking his finger under your chin and turning your face to look at him. “It wasn’t your fault.” You flicked a stray tear away with the back of your hand. You nodded your head a few times. “Ask me another question,” you said, breathing a deep breath through your nose and pulling your chin from his hand. He noticed your need to shift and leaned back in his chair while you downed the rest of the beer in your bottle. “What do you like to do when you’re not beating Rafe’s ass?” He asked. You somehow managed to smile and it wasn’t one of the fake ones from before. Somehow, this boy in front of you made you smile a real smile. 

“I like to cook,” you said. 

“Cook?” “Yeah. What about you?” “Surfing is my go to thing.” “Yeah, you and every other soul on this island. What’s something you like to do that no one else knows?” You asked, feeling a buzz on your fingertips. You welcomed the familiar feeling. It eased the ache in your chest, relieving the heavyweight on your shoulders. “Let’s see.” JJ breathed a sigh through his nose. “I like to climb trees. It makes me feel tall.” You lifted your head and smiled again. “There’s this tree outside that I used to climb all the time when I was a kid.” “Really?” “Maybe if you’re nice to me, I’ll let you climb my tree,” you said and JJ cocked an eyebrow. “For a girl who doesn’t like sex, that sounded an awful lot like an innuendo to me.” “Whatever.” The two of you paused to let the laughter die down. “You want some food? I can whip up some grilled cheese.” “Sure thing.” 15 minutes later, you were coughing smoke out of your lungs and JJ was laughing his ass off on the floor by his chair. “I thought you said you were good at cooking?” He laughed as you tossed a very, very crispy grilled cheese into the trash can, waving smoke out of the now open window. “I said I liked cooking,” you said, fanning the air with your hands. “I never said anything about being good at it.” When you came back to sit in front of him, you were still coughing. “I have a question to ask,” he said. “Uh, oh.” “It’s about the sex thing.” “Are you going to make me cry again?” “I hope not.” He paused. “You’re an ugly crier.” “Jee, thanks. I bare my soul to you and you insult me. What a gentleman.” You shook your head in mock disappointment. “Says the one who’s called me bucko twice since we first met.” “Fair point.” “Can I ask my question now?” “Go for it, but if you make me cry again I’m telling your friends.” “You’re going to tattle on me?” You shrugged. “Maybe.” “Shut up and let me ask my question.” You waved your hand, giving him the floor to speak. “You don’t like sex, but I’ve seen you at those parties mackin’ hard with a ton of different people.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t a question.”

“I just want to know what my limits are.” “Are you asking to mack me here at my dad’s dining table?” “I don’t think that’s exactly what I was referring to.” “Then enlighten me.” 

JJ held your gaze and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. Static exploded in your stomach and your breath hitched in your throat, but you tried not to let it show. He let his hand fall to your knee, inching forward, the distance between the two of you closing slowly. 

“What’s your question, Maybank?” You asked. “If I kissed you right now, would you stop me?” His voice was low, as if he was whispering a secret to her that he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Why don’t you try it and find you?” When he closed the distance by pressing his lips against yours, you didn’t stop him. Every nerve was on fire, a ball in your stomach pulling you forward. Your hands seemed to move on their own as you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair. He tasted like beer mostly, but underneath that, you could taste the sea. Salty waves pounded against your senses. His hand snaking around your waist was like being held by the warm sand on a sunny day. Kissing him was like the peace that you had always searched for. Your heart pounded in the same way as when you danced, your nerves stood on end like when you were buzzed, your breath hitched like when you stepped into the ocean on a cold day. At that moment, nothing else mattered. Even when JJ’s lips strayed from yours, the peace you felt didn’t fade. He left a trail of kisses across your jaw, down your neck. It felt like drowning. You couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t want to. If JJ meant throwing yourself into the deepest part of the ocean, God you were going in headfirst. “JJ-” you breathed. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway startled you out of whatever trance JJ put you under. “Shit,” you hissed, standing up suddenly. Pulling away from JJ was like detaching yourself from your lifeline. “What is it?” JJ asked, standing after out, his arm still around your waist. “My dad is back early,” you said. “You need to leave.” “Ellie-” “JJ, you need to leave.” You shoved the beer bottles back into the pack. “Take these. The back door’s this way.” 

“Elma!” You heard your dad call from outside. “Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed, dragging JJ by his hand to the back door. You threw it open and shoved him outside. “Wait, will you be alright?” He asked you. You nodded hurriedly. “Of course, just get out of here.” JJ grabbed your wrist and moved forward to kiss you one last time, but you knew better. You would get caught in the riptide and there would be no escaping it. A storm was coming if you didn’t get ass out of the water, you were going to drown. You pulled your arm away from him and slammed the door shut before running back to the dining room. The front door opened You quickly swiped the dirt on the table into your palm and ran to pick the bottle cap off the floor. You had just enough time to throw them away before your dad walked into the dining room. “Elma!” He grinned at you and you tried to smile back, jabbing your pointer finger into the scar on your palm on instinct. “Bradford, go put your things upstairs.” 

“Hey, Kid,” you called out to your brother with a real smile. The 11-year-old smiled at you, shifting his bag on his shoulder before taking the stairs two at a time. “How have you been, Elma?” Your dad asked, coming over to hug you. “Good,” you said before he got near enough to smell the alcohol on your breath.    “What are you doing up so late?” He asked. “I got home from work only an hour or so ago, but I wanted to make some food.”    “You burned it, didn’t you?” Your dad laughed, a grin hanging from his lips. “Oh, you know me,” you said with an attempt at a laugh. “Your lips look a little swollen.” Your heart stopped in your chest. “Did you put honey in your tea again?” With another forced laugh, you rolled your eyes as playfully as you can manage.

“I thought this time I wouldn’t be so allergic.” “That’s my silly girl.” As he pulled you into a hug, you dug your finger even deeper into your scar tissue, your smile falling. You forced another smile onto your face when he stepped away. “I’m tired,” he said. “As you must be, too. Shall we go to bed?” 

You nodded, unsure if you could handle saying anything else. As you passed your father, you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, making your body tremble. You walked up the stairs as fast as you could without arousing suspicion, making a sharp turn for Kid’s room. “Don’t keep that boy up too late,” your dad called. “Won’t!” 

Once safe in Kid’s room, you felt like you could finally breathe. “I saw that boy sneak out through the yard,” Kid said as soon as the door was closed. You widened your eyes and hurried over to the bed. “Don’t tell dad,” you said, cringing. Kid looked at you like you were stupid. “You know I won’t.” You curled your arms around your brother, pulling him into your chest. You let out a deep breath. “That was JJ Maybank, wasn’t it? He brought my bike back. I saw it out front.” 

“I don’t want to talk about him.” “Did he hurt you?” It always amused you when Kid tried to act tough. You knew he wanted you to see him as your protector, since it was usually you protecting him, but you and everyone else on the island called him Kid for a reason. 

“No, Kid, he didn’t.” Worse, you thought to yourself. “But I don’t want to talk about him. How was your trip?”

[hei-ch0u]

Oh boy. Here goes... Shingeki no Kyojin Final chapter (139) thoughts and analysis ✰

Well, where do I even begin to accumulate my thoughts on the final chapter of Shingeki no Kyojin? Even after some time to reflect and read the chapter many times, over and over - I’m still going to struggle to form this analysis. But, alas I shall try my best despite this.

I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read this and understand my own views of the final chapter. Proceed with caution - ⚠️ spoilers ahead ⚠️

This chapter and ending overall has left me with a love/hate relationship with the overall tale in full. I’d even go as far as saying it has tainted my view slightly of the entire series in one way or another and I will never look at it the same way I did - as much as I wish I could. My reasoning for the love/hate relationship I have will come, but, I want to start off by saying that despite it’s ending I will always appreciate this story and Isayama for his work, even if I myself don’t approve of his steering towards the ending.

It is just like I said in my theory, the thing we all need to recognise with this story is that the characters we love and have cherished, were never going to get exactly what they desired and if anything this chapter is a clear indication of that fact. It has been a story that was paved for a bitter, somewhat ‘bittersweet’ ending (yes, I hoped it wouldn’t be in the form of ‘that’, but it was). It is just as Mikasa said - “The world is cruel and merciless, but it is also beautiful”. This tale became the typical embodiment of humanity and how ruthless it can be.

Again, like I said in my theory, it was heavily foreshadowed that Eren was playing devil’s advocate and might have to sacrifice his freedom in this life to save the ones who meant the most to him. We heard hints in OST’s such as My War, Red Swan, Vogel Im Kafig, among others…

“Angel playing disguise with Devil’s face”

“I’ll cry for you in a dream”

“All of my kingdom, for your return, I’d let it burn!”

“Spread your wings, which are dreaded in blood”

“And eternity as you, fly to heaven”

“Like a fallen angel”

“Looking down from above I feel awful”

“Every living being dies someday, whether we are ready to die or not”

“Is that the angel who flew down from the twilight sky?”

“Is that the devil who crawled out from the crevice?”

“Tears, anger, compassion, cruelty, peace, chaos, faith, betrayal.”

It was foreshadowed, all of those things in the last example is humanity in a nutshell. The use of birds to symbolise the dead was shown on multiple occasions. Hell, even in the Levi ova, his friends are shown as 2 birds above him as he continues forward. It didn’t shock me that Eren’s soul was represented or “reincarnated” in the form of a bird - simply because birds are the most free creatures on our planet, they can fly over land, sea and maintain the air around them. Realistically, we should’ve analysed the birds presence more (it was even implied in the opening trailer for season 4. Falco awoke to a bird flying above him, we saw the bird present many times in even past seasons and don’t get me started on how many times it was present in the manga). Our Angel was Eren. He was a fallen angel - a slave to the story and what it means to be human, to feel deeply and make sacrifices. He was never a monster, just a pawn in a wicked game.

For a split moment of initial shock, I let the “judging a book by its cover” ideal kick in. After calming down and having access to proper translations, again I can’t say I love this ending or hate it - it has the bittersweet notion that was intended, but it was also lukewarm. It is not perfect by any means, there are some plot holes and loose ends that could have been tied up by extension. However, Isayama maybe intended for it to remain open for interpretation. Something of which, I’ll reveal what I personally took from the ending.

One thing I am surely certain of, is that I can hold my hands above my head and say this chapter 100% embodied my love for my favourite character - Eren Jaeger. He had such a tragic outcome, he did it all for his friends and loved ones. He was never free, not in life and partially not in death. He was a broken child, in a broken world with a broken fate of shouldering mass amounts of responsibility with no idea of how to change or control the past, present and future. To witness your best friend talking of all the things he was going to see, yet knowing you wouldn’t be there to see it yourself. To know the girl who was there for him forever and always, could never be his to cherish. He had no freedom to do so. To live the life he wanted to, he would have died anyway. If he had ran off with Mikasa, he would have damned his friends. The life he wanted was not feasible, therefore he chose to sacrifice his desires so his friends could live long lives, unlike the one he was damned to. He was a character who was torn along all sides of the coin. Torn between his desires, his duty and his self - all while experiencing memories from all angles. He was not a monster or a psychopath and I won’t let others spit on his name due to their lack of analysis and empathy. He is human. He is allowed to feel. He isn’t pathetic for wanting to live, for wanting to be with his friends or the girl he loves. He is 19. Can you really say you wouldn’t feel the same? It is natural to be frustrated at your life being ripped from under your feet at such a young age. He was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Look at his face in paths when he talks with Armin, he is devastated and he had no solution.

However, I do believe he will be reunited with his friends once more. After all, the scouts were reunited in death, so why shouldn’t he? His friends will not live in vain, his sacrifice will mean something. They will live their life to the fullest and find peace in life and then in death - they have Eren to thank for that. Another misconception I want to pick out of the fandom is that they did not condone genocide, they did not thank Eren for ridding the population of 80%. Armin states it as an “error”. What they did do, was acknowledge Eren’s sacrifice for them to live and that they understood it’s not what he wanted himself, but that due to unseen forces. - did he really have a choice? It is not by any means perfect, but it gives them freedom to live out with the walls - was this not Eren’s dream? To be free, not confined within the walls by Titans. He did exterminate all titans, that is one goal Eren Jaeger accomplished. We don’t know the full extent of the power of the attack titan or the founding titan, this is one of the open plot holes. Eren himself explains this, he himself has no clue and his head is a mess - is it any shock that his head is a mess? People would go crazy over less. He was a pawn in a story with no happy ending. At least not for him.

Even in the bird reincarnation theory, I hope he is happy and free. Free to roam the skies, perch upon the tallest mountains, titter along the grass banks of the world and watch over his comrades, his friends, the ones he loves deeply… The tragic protagonist I will always remember. (Especially as one who was done so dirty by his author)

There was so many routes this manga could have taken, fan theories proved this and I do think the ending could have been executed better. We were not getting a happy ending, it is not happy by all means. Those characters left have to live in the aftermath, aware of their friends sacrifice and all he had to put himself through for them to live the lives they themselves desired. My favourite quote will always be:

“Don’t pity the dead. Pity the living”

Mikasa lost her family in more ways than one, she has to live a life where she didn’t get the one person she desired more than anything, but I believe she will move on and Eren will be by her side the entire time until they are reunited in death. Levi is the same, he lost everyone and whoever his love may have been - Erwin, Hanji, Petra (who knows). Either way, he didn’t have those loved ones around in the end. But, he no longer has to fight for survival and can spend the remainder of his time resting until the day in the future he can be reunited with his comrades, friends and even kick Eren a big one, ruffle his hair, tell him its okay and tell him all the things he wanted to tell him like he said. Armin lost his best friend, he held the burden above his head that he himself killed Eren and not Mikasa. However, he has an abundance of friends, he has Annie and he can travel the world like he desired - like Mikasa, he will have Eren by his side for the remainder of his time.

Jean can meet the woman of his dreams and have the children like he desired, knowing that even in their silly quarrels - Eren was loyal to him always. Connie can have his mother back, his family and move on. Reiner can live, not die like he once desired and live on knowing of Eren’s sacrifice, that he wasn’t a monster himself. He is free from the curse, as is Annie, Pieck and Falco. The warriors have their families back. Gabi and Falco can be together unlike their comparisons, sad, but fitting. They are in Paradis, a place we never expected them to be in the end, advocating for change alongside Onyakapon looking after their elder, Levi, alongside them. On Eren’s death anniversary, it is implied they all return to his grave to be together, none of them are alone like we initially thought. Mikasa is not alone in Paradis since it is implied that Levi, Onyankapon, Gabi, Falco, Historia even… still live amidst the walls - I think it would be wasteful to assume such a strong character secludes herself after the love of her life’s death. She does not have to love another man, she can choose to live her life for herself, a long one alongside her friends. This manga has never necessarily needed to have love stories, they are implied, but not needed. For life itself is the embodiment of their freedom.

This above is the rosy way of looking at it and it’s what I personally will take from it. I overall think it is terrible writing and use of dialogue - there’s no denying it. I myself as a writer and artist would have done it differently. Isayama has created a manga with a tragic story that reveals the raw, tainted feeling of what it’s like to be human. We all want things, we all have desires…but we don’t always get them, no matter how hard we try, some will slip from our grasps. That is life, no matter the universe. Yes. But, I do think in ways Isayama did taint and obliterate Eren as a character. This I am disappointed in. It is a typical author ideal of damning his protagonist and the sad thing about being a stories protagonist - you risk being ruined due to being written so complex initially that the author loses sight of how to conclude your arc respectfully. I believe from what we have been shown, he would not have accepted his death that easily and would fight for another way. Although, I cannot blame him as I myself would have felt defeated, suicidal and depressed at learning everything he did after his contact with Historia at such a young age. Remember, how you are brought up in an already cruel world is key - he didn’t stand a chance. But alas, I still feel he would’ve fought. This Eren is not the Eren we saw the majority of the manga, but then again he did change and I feel so sorry that the Titan power had that effect on him.

This is the character development true Eren stans are enraged with. TATAKAE! Fight the attack titan, fight the founding titan, fight against your cruel fate - don’t succumb to defeat. There is always another way. I don’t accept this version of Eren, due to the development we saw built by Isayama of his character, I can’t. It leaves so many gaps among other plot reveals. I don’t see what was accomplished. Eren’s being, his life, was a ploy to keep the other characters we care about alive, but at what cost ? If I was Eren’s friend, I would go forward like he wanted me to, but I could never forget the burden he bared and what he had to go through and what he did to achieve that outcome for me. I would forever be sad. I would be living in a world much like this one, lacking in peace and serenity and above all is that not what we all desire in one way or another? He did not necessarily know the Dina titan would go for his mother, but he had to direct it away from Bertholdt since in the timeline it was not his time to die. Always remember the theory of time, one thing changed, drastically changes the outcome. He did not want civilians or people within Paradis to die, it became collateral damage and no one would be able to fight for some time because of the 80% notion. He gave them time to live, time to change things to the best of their abilities and experience all they possibly could. They became the ‘heroes’, but again, at what cost?

Now, to the plot holes and answers I feel needed to be present for the story to knit together in a better way. This will be less “paragraph” based and more pointed, since…well these things were not explained. Majority of potential foreshadowing was swept under the rug like it meant nothing to bring about the lukewarm feeling I was talking about.

The alien like hallucigenia, what exactly was its purpose? It’s reason for being? It disappeared and ceased to exist. No mention of how it came to be. Even Ymir just vanished. Everything ceased to exist and Eren himself couldn’t understand Ymir’s reasoning other than being able to witness love. This seemed to be cop out on Isayama’s part.

Historia’s pregnancy was heavily implied and emphasised on within the manga, making readers think it meant something (when a creator zones in on these things, its usually for further plot reveal) Her character development was destroyed and she deserved better. She sidelined herself and stayed away till the final moment where it is implied she and Armin will become the negotiators of a new world, all while housing tyrants (Jaegerists). Again a further implication of Shonen manga and its poor interpretation of women.

The conclusion to Ymir and Eren’s particular character arcs was shocking and this can’t be dismissed. We needed both their sides of things to explain more. It lacked real conclusion and didn’t match up to past events or character development. This chapter should have purely been an Eren POV with the ending moments of how the scouts moved on. Of course this couldn’t have been done in 1 chapter, hence the recognition that this manga needed ‘more’ and it wasn’t enough to tie it all together. Another flaw in Isayama’s writing and continuity.

The Ackermans? Don’t get me started. My theory again will entail my rage about this one. Did the Ackerman power cease to exist like the titan curse? What is their origin story? To imply the Ackerman blood concept in all its parallels and foreshadowing to not even have the 2 remaining characters from said bloodline talk about their shared experience in thorough detail is such an abysmal hole in plot. Especially with it being heavily emphasised throughout the entire manga.

I barely saw any signs of Eren being in love with Mikasa? If this was the case, then it should have been shown in the manga and emphasised like isayama did with many other things that eventually had no meaning. I always viewed their relationship as very toxic to both sides and needed amending. So for Eren to suddenly turn round and say he doesn’t want her to be with another man....I find this a very bad continuation and completely disregards how Eren has been the past 138 chapters. Why was it so hard for him to say these things even before he made contact with historia and unravelled it all? Was it the power of the attack titan preventing him?.... (below)

The attack titan and founding titan, explain how it works. Why does Eren himself not fully understand yet he embodies them? Why could he not have flipped the switch? Why could he not ask for help? Explanation is needed.

All the time loop links diminished to nothing other than Eren’s past, present and future…yet its implied in many characters even in their childhoods mentions of things they could not be aware of. How can it merely be coincidence?

I wholeheartedly believe that this was not the initial ending of Shingeki no Kyojin, specifically because I and a few others I’ve seen noticed the shift in the story around 10 or so chapters ago. It seemed to be going in the route of a few particular fan theories and then suddenly (quite drastically I’ll add) shifted into this ending. I can only theorise that Isayama changed his original ending along the way to please editors and readers in different ways. In interviews past, he has completely contradicted things he has said about the manga and its ending with what he has produced in the final chapter. When you look at it from a marketing point of view as a selling point, if Isayama had killed certain characters like “Levi” for example or left the ending dark as it possibly could have been (something I wouldn’t have put past yams to do) it would be bad from a marketing point given the likes of Levi is the targeted favourite of the series (even with being a side character) and editors would heavily warn him of this.

People are saying that it’s Isayama’s story and editors won’t have influence - you’d be heavily surprised how much the editing team can have influence, especially when a story of this magnitude becomes so popular. I do think in ways, Isayama gave up. As an artist even myself, its very abundantly clear when a fellow creative loses drive and how the concept of something becoming popular can influence you to become bored and look for a way out. Hence, the clear signs of the story coming out as rushed, its all there, the loss of continuity, the holes in plot and even though Isayama’s art can be inconsistently coherent - some parts of the past few chapters weren’t at the full potential we saw previously. We watched him get better to suddenly somehow revert? That to me seems like a creator who had just had enough and maybe in the end chose to veer off his original plan.

Alas! As I said, I will always love Shingeki no Kyojin despite its ending and loose ties, it holds a place in my heart and has been a favourite of mine since my school days. Being an adult now In her 20’s and experiencing the many troubles of what its like to be human and a creative can sympathise with the struggles and stress Isayama would have been under all these years as his manga gradually became the phenomenon it is now. As it is our favourite characters time to rest and move on, it is his also. Although the story is not where I and many others hoped it would go, I still thank him massively for giving me characters like Eren Jaeger, Levi Ackerman, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert… the list goes on. Thank you for embodying why Eren was my first and last favourite character. Goodbye Shingeki no Kyojin.

[winterscaptain]

mean it. (sfw)

a/n:  welcome to the sfw version! it has been modified to cover all of the character development that happens while these two chatty cathies are gettin down ‘n dirty with it. this has been my favorite ajf fic so far, and will conclude the berry hill section of the story. we’ll have two more fics that take place in 2011 following this one, but they won't be so explicitly part of this arc - just fun little early-relationship ‘we’re still keeping this from the team’ moments. i am SO excited to share this with you. (here’s the nsfw version, for our friends who are grown ups!)

words: 7k warnings: implied smut, some making out on the couch, language, light drinking/alcohol use summary: the levy breaks. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You brush past him into the apartment, turning on him when you reach the middle of the living room. He closes the door and faces you, looking drawn and exhausted. You know Jack’s gone - staying with Jessica until tomorrow afternoon, so this is your only opportunity to lay into him the way you want to. 

“When did you know?”

He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. Your name leaves his mouth in a tired sigh. 

You know he flew back in an uncomfortable supply transport for close to fifteen hours. You know he hasn’t slept in close to three days. You know this is the last thing he needs, but there’s too much anger and hurt and exhaustion in your chest to not pick a fight about something, anything. “Stop. Answer me.” 

“Last week. I knew last week.” 

You cross your arms. “So when you called to check in four days ago you couldn’t have, I dunno, shared that with us?” 

He lets out a dissatisfied chuff, unable to answer. 

“We spent months without you, Aaron. Months.” And what horrible months they were. “It was so hard, and I missed you so much.” Your voice breaks, and you take a shaky breath, your hurt overriding your caution. “I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe.”

His eyes meet yours with a hurt and fire that mirrors your own. All you can do is grab his face and kiss him. 

He gasps as he pulls you toward him, his hands tight on your hips. You know you’ll have bruises later and the thought only drives you further. The kiss is brutal - you bite at his lips, your tongue laving over his with an aggression you hardly recognize in yourself. Your tears mix in with the taste of him - bitter coffee and something achingly familiar. His beard is rough against your hands and cheeks and neck as he moves from your mouth, giving you room to breathe as he explores your overheated skin. The beard is an element of this you weren’t expecting, and it’s not unwelcome in the slightest. 

Almost all of you wishes these were different circumstances, that your first kiss would be gentle and soft and full of laughter. 

When has anything with him been typical? When has anything ever been the way you wanted? 

Then, God, he’s good at this. 

Bastard. 

When he reaches your pulse point, you raise your hands and yank on his hair. He lets out a loud groan, and you attack his mouth again. His hands roughly crawl up your back, fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders and ribs. Aaron is everywhere - the only thing you can feel, the only thing you can hear. 

“I can’t stand you,” you whisper against his mouth. 

(You don’t mean it.) 

Aaron huffs, and it's almost a laugh. He kisses you roughly. “I know.” 

(He knows.)

You pull back from him and shove, and he tumbles back onto his couch. His pupils are blown, his lips red and swollen, hair a mess. You know you don’t look much better, likely with blossoming hickies on your neck, not to mention the beard burn. 

There’s a flintiness in Aaron’s eyes when you meet them again, like he’s daring you to make your next move. 

The breath leaving you is heavy and hot. You’ve never been angrier in your life, and yet you’ve never wanted him more. You just want to be close to him - to feel him. He was away for so long and you hate to admit it, but you missed him like you’d miss a limb. The beard also inspires something in you that’s almost embarrassing in its intensity. You shelve the thought for the time being.

You pounce into his lap, straddling him. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, like he already knows the answer, his mouth at your collarbone. 

Unexpectedly, the tears start up again, and your breath catches in a sob. “I want you. I can barely look at you right now, but I still want you. I always have.” 

He softens for a moment, his eyes melting as they meet yours. He cups your face in his hand, brushing your tears away with his thumb. You lean into his touch and your eyes flutter shut. The wind has been knocked almost entirely out of your sails, but he’s always had that effect on you. 

His lips brush against yours. “While I’d much rather we do this when you’re not considering homicide,” his words make your mouth twitch up into a small smile, “I want you so badly.” He kisses you again, and you melt into him, pressing your chest to his. “Years,” he punctuates every assertion with kisses, “years, years, and years of wanting you.”

You tip your head back, looking him in the eye again. “I’m not any less mad at you.” 

“I know.” He nods, and kisses the underside of your jaw. “Will you let me show you how sorry I am? For everything?” 

A sigh leaves you and with it comes a breathless, “Yes.” 

Holding you close, he stands and you link your ankles around his back. He never once lifts his lips from your skin as he carries you to the bedroom. You’ve always known he was strong, but the ease with which he carries you sends a shot of heat through your belly. 

You rest your cheek on his temple as he paints kisses all over your neck and collarbone. You can feel the apology in them. With a little bit of a start, you realize you can feel the love in them, too.

He reaches the bedroom, and lays you down on his gray linen duvet without acknowledging anything in the room that isn’t you. 

+++

After, there’s a reverence to the way he cleans you up. He’s gentle with you in a way you knew he would be, but never expected. Even the sting of the water against the developing beard-burn is soothed with warm hands and kisses. 

He stretches out on the bed beside you when you’re both clean and refreshed. The scene is almost identical to one ten months prior, back at Berry Hill. 

You tuck your arm under your head and turn to face him. Your eyes are heavy, but you know he has more to say, more to share with you. 

He stares at the ceiling as he speaks. “There was only one way to keep Emily safe, and it was for all of us to believe she was dead. If JJ and I had shared the truth with anyone,” he looks over at you and slips his hand into yours before turning his gaze back to the ceiling, “even you, there was a great chance she could have been killed before she completed her mission.” 

You nod. “I understand.” 

“I know that it doesn’t make it any easier. I hated every second.” He rolls to his side, and tips his forehead to yours. “I hated knowing I had the power to make your hurt go away, but couldn’t use it. I’m so sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m so sorry.” His eyes close, and you wrap around him.

You know that there was no way to go about protecting Emily without this lie. It made all the sense in the world. You couldn’t be angry with him for that - not for saving Emily like he did. In fact, you admired it. The very thought of lying to him like that was a Herculean feat. You had no idea how he managed it. 

Pakistan. That’s how he managed it. 

Right. 

A few more tears escape your eyes, but Aaron can’t see them with your head tucked under his chin. He does, however, feel them against the bare skin of his chest. He can only guess at what you’re thinking. Shame slogs through his whole body and tears fall out of his eyes too, landing on the pillow underneath his head. He takes a shuddering breath, and your arms wind tighter around him. 

He’s sure your position can’t be comfortable, one arm and one leg trapped under his body, your head at an odd angle. He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You tuck your arms into yourself and your legs tangle together as you curl up against him with your head on his chest. 

Eventually, and you’re not sure how exactly, you both end up under the covers. Despite the difficult day, despite the tears, despite the inevitable nightmare waiting for you at the bureau tomorrow, you sleep. 

+++

When you wake up in the morning, you’re wrapped in his arms. He’s awake, tracing patterns on your hip with his fingers. Your bodies are flush together - legs tangled, his chest against your back, your hips slotted together.  

“Good morning,” he says. 

He loosens his hold on you just enough for you to turn in his arms, and you tuck yourself back into him, throwing a leg over his hip to maintain proximity. It elicits a small laugh from him. “Good morning.” 

“Breakfast?”

Your brow pulls. “Don’t we have to go in?”

He sighs deeply. “Check your email.” 

Uh oh. 

You throw an arm out, finding your phone on the table beside you, charging.

When on Earth did he do that?

The man is a magician. 

Scrolling through your email, you find the one he’s talking about, sent at 6am sharp this morning. 

FROM: Erin Strauss SUBJECT: Suspension - Effective Immediately Pending Senate Investigation

You tip your head back in frustration before reading through it, but the subject (albeit long) pretty much sums it up. “Goddamn it.” You turn back to Aaron. “Can’t we go one month without some kind of forced unpaid vacation?”

He huffs a laugh and shrugs. “Guess not. On the bright side...breakfast?”

+++

You twist back and forth on the barstool, your chin in your hands. You’re wearing one of his shirts and a pair of Haley’s pajama pants (it’s surprisingly less weird than you thought), watching him put together an elaborate breakfast spread of fruit, bagels, eggs, and turkey sausage. 

At your first questioning glance, he informed you that Jess had stocked the fridge the day prior upon notification of his return. 

Very considerate. But then again, it's Jess. 

You, of course, expected nothing less from her and look forward to seeing her later this afternoon. You’d grown close in Aaron’s absence, as Jack asked for you often and you were, of course, happy to oblige his requests. There was more than one happy side-effect from Aaron’s task force assignment, and a new-found friend in Jess is one of them. 

Aaron places a plate in front of you, and rounds the island with his own. You thank him and dig in. Apparently, your outburst really took it out of you last night in addition to certain...other activities that required significant sums of energy. 

When you’re done, he turns toward you and takes your hands in his. “This may be a bad time, but do you want to talk about us at all?” The little emphasis on us sends a shot of something warm through you, but panic follows on its heels. 

“Can we just...be? Right now? I want to make sure we can keep our heads screwed on straight and settle back into normal before we say anything to the others.”

He nods with a solemn finality. There’s no hurt in his eyes, only disappointment. You have a strong suspicion it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. “I understand.”

You swallow and look down at your hands. “I just - I just need some time.”

“Okay.” He gently tugs you forward and you stand between his knees. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here. And I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if I have to.”

“I know.” The corner of your mouth pulls up in a smile. 

He kisses your knuckles and his breath washes over them. “This may go without saying, but...” he pauses, meeting your eyes. “I love you.”

A little huff of laughter leaves you, and something eases a little in your chest. “I love you, too.” With a little tip of your head, you concede, “I promise, no matter how much I hate you, I love you more.”

He smiles. “That’s good to know.” 

You release his hands and wrap your arms around his neck, tucking your face into his shoulder. His hands cover a broad swath of your back, holding you to him with an even pressure that all-but alleviates your remaining anxiety. 

“I missed you.” 

He kisses your shoulder. “I missed you too. Every day. All the time.”

No matter what, he loves you. 

He loves you. 

+++

You end up going to the office before Jack gets home to pick up any random items you’ll need in the weeks of suspension to come. You don’t think too hard about it, grabbing your extra set of clothes from your go bag and jumping into Aaron’s car. 

Aaron hops up the stairs to his office while you gather your necessaries from your desk in the bullpen. You feel someone approach from behind you, and you smile when you find Emily. 

“Hey,” she says, as if she’s not sure how she’ll be received. 

You gather her up in your arms, and she relaxes into you. “Hi.”

She pulls back, her eyes narrow. “Where were you last night?”

“What?” Your brow furrows, and you realize with only a little alarm that you haven’t showered. 

Her squint deepens. “You don’t smell like yourself. You smell like…” she pauses, thinking, “...sex and a handsome man. Who is he?” An eyebrow raises, questioning and playful.

“I worked out this morning and didn’t shower - I didn’t think I’d run into anyone today, seeing as we’re all suspended.” You reach around her for a stack of files, tucking them in your arms. 

She refuses to give it up, acting your shadow as you go to the kitchen for your favorite mug. “Oh, nuh uh. You’re not about to use my own excuse on me.” 

Shit. That is her excuse, isn’t it?

Yep. 

“Emily, I’m not seeing anyone.” And it’s the truth. Hotch almost walks out of his office, but lingers by the door. He’s already overheard a little bit of Emily’s interrogation and figures the opportunity is too good to pass up. Already suppressing a smile, he settles in for the show. 

“Oh, please! You totally got laid last night. Who is he?” She’s basically chasing you around the bullpen at this point as you fabricate tasks to keep her off your tail. “You know I’ll find out!” 

“Emily -”

“Wait, who got some last night?” Penelope pokes her head around the corner as she passes, carrying a box of comfy-cozies from her dungeon. 

You look up at the ceiling. Maybe a benevolent deity will smite you where you stand. 

This is hell. This is what hell is. Nothing could be worse.

Emily throws her thumb at you, and Penelope’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. “You’re joking. Who?” She almost squeals, and you shush them both. 

“Would either of you at least attempt to keep your voices down?” You grab your things from your desk and attempt to leave the bullpen, but your best friends bar you in. “I am not seeing anyone.” 

“Oh yeah? Then why do you reek of sex?” 

Hotch, leaning just out of sight in the doorway, covers his mouth with his fingers to hide his smile. You haven’t lied to Emily yet, at least not outright. 

You roll your eyes. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“You do!” Emily barks a laugh. “Come on. I’ve been dead for the last ten months, the least you can do is tell me who you’ve been fucking since then.” 

You tut at her. “Don’t be crass.”

“Oh, please. You’ve heard worse.” 

Your last name rings out across the bullpen, and you simultaneously thank and curse Hotch for leaving you out to dry like this and then coming to your rescue. With one last glare to both Penelope and Emily, you trot up the stairs and into Aaron’s office, leaving the door open behind you. 

“You’re an asshole.” 

His mouth twitches as he sits down. 

“Was that fun? Did you enjoy that?”

The amusement drops out of his face, and you’d be a little more intimidated except for the fact he’s still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. “Immensely.” He looks down and jots a few notes on a case file. 

“So did you just call me up here to save me or did you actually have something for me, sir.” 

He looks at you from under his brows, his eyes dark. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, darling.” 

Your heart leaps into your throat. Between his tone and the beard, you find yourself almost uncomfortably warm. 

Duly noted. 

“Though, I did have this for you,” he hands you a file, and you flip through it. “When we get back, we’ll have to circle back with that coroner - his report is incomplete and we need the rest to officially close the case.” 

You shut it and set it on the corner of his desk. “I’ll make sure that’s on my list if and when we get our jobs back.”

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “We’ll get our jobs back. We always do.” 

“Yeah, you, maybe.”

He stands, offering you some space in the box on his desk for your things. You throw your case files in there, and follow him, empty-handed to Strauss’s office. 

He knocks twice and waits for her permission before pushing the door open. “Ma’am?”

“Good morning, you two.” She rises, her hand extended palm-up. He pulls his credentials out of his pocket, and you follow suit, stacking them neatly in her hand. “Thank you. We’ll be in touch regarding the Senate Affairs Committee hearing in the coming weeks. In the meantime,” she sighs, “try to enjoy your time off. Get some rest.” 

Aaron nods. “Thank you, ma’am. I can make myself available to assist in anything you may need between now and then.” 

She dips her chin, and you’re dismissed. 

It’s not unusual for you and Aaron to leave together, and for that you’re grateful. You stop back at his office for your things, and you walk down the stairs together. 

Emily’s in the kitchen, emptying the coffee pot, and she calls to you without looking. “I’m gonna figure out who’s been getting it in, don’t you worry.” 

Aaron snorts, and she turns on her heel. “Oh my God, Hotch. I didn’t realize -” 

She meets your gaze, and you don’t look anything but tired. You take Hotch’s elbow and steer him out, throwing Emily the finger on your way out the door. 

When you finally close yourselves into the car, you both laugh so hard you can’t breathe. You can almost trick yourself into thinking everything is normal. The thought sobers you a little bit, and you quiet, looking out of the windshield, staring at nothing. 

His hand crosses the center console, and you take it in both of your own. 

“Hey.” 

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“All the time in the world, remember?” The corner of his mouth pulls, and you lean over the console to kiss him. 

“Thank you.” He’s gentle with you. His thumb and forefinger capture your chin, and he kisses the corner of your mouth, soft and chaste.

+++

The first order of business when you arrive back at the apartment is a shower. You scrub yourself down twice - Emily made you jumpy in the extreme. 

You step out in a fresh shirt of Aaron’s, planting yourself on the couch. He passes you a cup of coffee when he returns from the kitchen and sits beside you. As soon as he’s settled, you scoot into his side and tuck under his arm. 

“So,” you say. He looks down at you. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to change the routine we had before you left for Pakistan.”  

He hums, taking a sip of his coffee. “I agree. It would be hard on Jack.”

“I’d miss you. And I already missed you and I’m sick of it.” Your voice is small, and you’re almost embarrassed, but he presses a kiss to your head. 

“I’m sick of missing you, too.” He nuzzles into your temple. “And I am not done with you yet.” His fingers, one at a time, gently tap over the bruises on your hip from last night. 

You shiver. “That’s convenient. I’m not done with you, either.” 

He sets his coffee down and tips your chin up with his finger. He hovers a hair's breadth away from your lips, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I love you.” Before you can respond, his lips are on yours. 

Keys rattle in the door, and you lean away from him. He chases your lips, unwilling to part from you until the last second. He stands just in time for Jack to bust through the door and into his arms. 

“Dad!”

Aaron lifts Jack into his arms and swings him around. Jack’s arms are tight around his neck, and soon they stop moving. They cling to each other for a moment, father and son. 

Jessica embraces you when you rise from the couch. “Hey!” 

“Hey, Jess.” 

You keep your arms around each other as you watch your boys. Jack leans away from Aaron and puts his hands on his father’s cheeks. 

“Your beard is scratchy.” 

Indeed it is, Jack. 

Aaron laughs, and nuzzles into Jack’s cheek until he’s laughing. “Do you like it?”

Jack’s face crinkles up, and that’s answer enough. A split second later, he registers your presence and wiggles out of his father's arms and throws himself into yours.

“Hey, bud.” 

He tucks into you, and he looks over his shoulder at Aaron. “Dad’s beard makes him look funny.” 

You suppress a smile and lean in conspiratorially. “He doesn’t really look like himself, does he?”

Jack shakes his head with a giggle, while Aaron looks completely betrayed. You kiss Jack’s head and set him back on his feet, stepping into the kitchen with the nearly-empty coffee mugs to give the Brooks-Hotchners some much-needed time together. 

You sneak back into the master bedroom, stretching out against the headboard with your laptop. Suspension means no work to submit, but nobody said you can’t draft emails and consolidate the veritable mountain of work that will inevitably find you upon your return. 

After about twenty minutes, the front door opens and closes, and Jack’s little feet patter past you, headed toward his bedroom. Aaron swings into the bedroom and quickly crosses to you, stretching across the bed to reach you. Taking your face in his hand, he presses a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“We’ve got LEGOs in Jack's room when you’re done in here.”

You hum, and wind your fingers in the hair on the side of his head. “Oh, while you’re here,” you say his lips, “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Oh?”

“Shave the beard to appease your son, but keep the hair.” Your fingers wander to the back of his head and pull once, sharply.

His breath leaves him in a huff. “What did I say about starting things you can’t finish?”

You plant one more filthy kiss on him before shoving him away from you. “To not to?”

He rolls his eyes and leaves you to your work. You don’t miss the way he adjusts himself in his jeans on the way out the door. 

+++

By the end of the evening, you all have a fairly impressive collection of LEGO vehicles. You lean against Jack’s bed frame, your bare feet stretched out in front of you. To anyone watching, it looks like a typical Saturday. 

Aaron conceded to an easy dinner of sandwiches and veggies in Jack’s bedroom. You figure he’ll be a pushover for another few days as he makes up for his long absence, if tonight is anything to go on. 

“Alright, bud. Time for bed.” Aaron stands and takes all the plates into the kitchen while you help Jack with the LEGOs. 

The finished pieces go on his bookshelf, of course, while the loose pieces go back into the bin that lives under his bed. It’s safe to say have the lay of the land after nearly five months without Aaron. Jess needed a break just as much as the rest of you, and you were more than happy to take Jack for a weekend here or there, sleeping on the couch or in Aaron’s bed, or having a slumber party on the living room floor of your house. 

Aaron returns a few minutes later, wearing a soft white shirt and sweatpants. He lingers in the doorway, watching you tidy up with Jack. The way you are with him is easy. You toss a set of pj’s out of the drawer, and Jack catches them. 

“Get those on, little bug. Dad will be back in to read you a chapter of one of your books, okay?”

Jack snags your hand, and you kneel so you’re eye-level with him. “Are you sleeping over?”

“I think so, but I’m not sure.” You glance up at Aaron with a smile just for him. “I think we should ask Dad if that’s alright.” 

He turns promptly, leaning into you. You hook your chin over his shoulder and wrap your arms around him. “Daddy, can we have a sleepover?” Jack’s request is very polite and pulls a smile from you. 

Aaron’s lips pull into a fond smile, unable to say no to two of his favorite faces looking up at him. “Yeah, we can have a sleepover.” 

“Yes!” Jack breaks your grip and runs down the hall to his bathroom, where he will inevitably brush his teeth too fast and change into his pajamas. 

You stand, and cross to Aaron, who’s waiting for you with a place in his arms. “Sleepover?”

“Mhmm.” He presses a kiss to your temple and you lean into him. 

Jack comes running back down the hall and you slip out of Aaron’s arms and crouch, letting Jack’s tiny body knock into you full force. You pepper his cheeks in kisses before holding him to your chest, his head tucked under your chin. He wraps his legs around your waist and you haul him up as you stand, passing Aaron in the doorway. 

He scuttles under the covers and you tuck him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.” 

You smile at him. “I love you, too.” With a final kiss to his forehead, you straighten and make your way to the master bedroom, getting plenty comfortable as you wait for Aaron to return. 

Aaron settles in at his son’s side, propped against the headboard with his ankles crossed. He realizes just how much he’s missed in that moment - the book in his hands is a new one. They must have finished the other one while he was in Pakistan. 

Jack tucks into his side, and he starts to read. 

With both doors open, you can hear the low murmur of Aaron’s voice from down the hall. You curl up under the covers, letting your eyes close. A light in the hallway turns off, and you hear Aaron tell Jack that since “the grown-ups don’t have work in the morning, we’re all gonna sleep in.”

Sleep in. Right. 

For someone as big as he is, Aaron is surprisingly quiet. With your eyes closed, you only realize he’s back when the door clicks shut. The lights turn off, and he slips into bed beside you. 

���Aaron?” 

He reaches for you in the darkness, and you take his hand. “Yeah?”

“I still don’t like it, but I understand it.” 

He knows you’re talking about Emily, and your admission comes with a bit of relief. There’s no need to defend himself, but he feels compelled to assure you of one more thing. “You know I would never lie to you if I had any other option, right?”

You huff a laugh, and scoot closer to him. He wraps you in his arms, and a little piece of the ache in your chest quiets. “Yeah, I know.” 

“You also know there will be some things I can’t share with you.” He presses his forehead against yours, and you nod. “And while I may have to keep things from you, I promise I will never fabricate a reality outside of the truth ever again. If you ask me a question I can’t answer, I will tell you as much. If you ask me if what I communicated is all the information I have, I will tell you that, too.” He huffs something that’s almost a laugh. “I will be as forthcoming as possible about the things I cannot be forthcoming about.” 

You cup his jaw in your hand. “Thank you.” 

Aaron’s lips meet yours, and it’s like coming home. 

The kiss turns heated quickly, and you break apart after a moment. You’re both breathless and wanting. It’s torture. 

Aaron closes his eyes and kisses the corner of your mouth. It feels like a promise. “What do you want?” The question is loaded. He drops down to your throat, kissing the skin under your jaw. 

“You.”

+++

Jack, ever the gift, sleeps late the next morning, so you and Aaron have more time together than you expected. 

Aaron drew you into his lap when you first woke, leaning against the headboard with your head against his shoulder. 

“Can I tell you something?”

You smile, your finger tracing his bare chest. “Of course.” 

“I can’t believe you’re not more upset with me over Emily.” 

You laugh a little. “I just understand it, you know? You explained yourself rather elegantly, and now I’m over the initial shock of it, I’m fine. It’s the goddamn Pakistan bullshit that got to me.” 

“Yeah.” He kisses your temple. “I still don’t feel great about that.” 

You burrow into his neck, your nose under his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He sighs, and you know he’s actually thinking about his answer. “There wasn’t a good time to tell you when I found out about the assignment, and then I kept putting it off and putting it off. The longer I waited, the more difficult it became.” You can feel his jaw tighten, and you flatten your hand against his chest. “It was selfish of me. I couldn’t face telling you, especially when I didn’t know how long I would be gone.”

“Promise me you won’t run from us again?”

He pulls you close to him, and you can feel his breath in your hair. “I don’t have a reason to, anymore.” 

+++

It breaks your heart, but the time finally comes to shave the beard. You find him in the bathroom with shaving cream and a razor. He’s already got half of his face lathered up when you walk in.  

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He looks over at you. “Shaving? As requested?” It’s definitely a question.

You shake your head and hold up a finger. Jogging to your go bag, you pull out the shaving kit you keep in there, just in case. In it, the tool you’re looking for. You walk back to the bathroom with the little cloth bag in your hand, hopping up on the counter to sit. The marble is cold on your skin, covered only by his shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. 

He watches you, a curious look on his face. You unzip it and pull out a classic single-blade straight-razor. 

“May I?”

Wary eyes glance at the blade, and his breath picks up. “Do you have to use that one?”

“Do you trust me?” You take him gently by the arm and pull him between your knees. 

“Of course,” he answers quickly. “It’s just...I just -”

“Knife shit. I know.”  Your casual, understanding tone doesn’t reveal the flash of panic you feel in your chest. The memory of his broken body in that hospital bed, stabbed half to death by Foyet, is never far from the forefront of your mind. 

As days go, that was one of the scariest. 

He nods and swallows. 

You set the blade down and put your hands on his cheeks, shaving cream be damned. “He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone and you’re here with me.” You press a soft kiss to his lips, and he lifts his thumb to wipe at the foam on your cheek. “Can I do this for you?”

Another shaky breath leaves him. “Yes.” 

“If you need to stop, just put your hand on my waist okay?” There’s nothing but love in your eyes as you watch his gaze flicker across your face. “We can stop anytime and I can leave you alone and you can shave this beautiful thing off your face yourself and rob me of my grieving process.” 

His lips pull up in a smile. “Okay.” 

You start the hot water in the sink beside you and wet your hands a little to finish lathering him up with the shaving cream. His nose crinkles when you pop a dot of it on his forehead. 

“Really?”

You shrug with a little smile and wash your hands, drying them on the towel hanging over the edge of the sink. Picking up the blade, you raise it slowly. He still flinches a little, nostrils flaring as he controls his breath. 

You gently shush him. “It’s just me.” You press your fingers into his chin, gently tipping his head to the right. His eyes flutter shut as you take your first pass against his cheek, but he opens them soon enough. You move slowly, deliberately, and carefully, narrating every single touch of the blade against his skin. You’re so proud of him for his stillness and restraint and trust. He watches you, and you meet his eyes every once in a while - just checking in. 

Shave, rinse, dry, repeat. You fall into a rhythm, and he relaxes further and further into your touch each time. 

His hands rests on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing back and forth on your bare skin. You caress and gently pull and press wherever you need to for a close shave, and he lets you. 

The real challenge comes when it's time to do his neck. His breath picks up again as you tip his chin up. You place your hand on the back of his neck, supporting his head and playing with his hair. “You’re okay, Aaron. Just me, remember?” 

“It’s harder when I can’t see you.” 

You wrap your legs around the back of his thighs, pulling his hips flush to yours on the edge of the counter. Pressing a kiss underneath his ear, you whisper. “Does that help?”

He can’t bite back his smile. “Yeah, that works.” His hands wander to your hips, and you try to keep yourself from wiggling against him. 

“Hold still.” You tip his chin up again and run the blade up his neck, over his Adam’s apple, under his jaw, past his carotid artery. To combat the rising panic he’s no doubt experiencing, you press a kiss to every patch of freshly-shaven skin. 

Soon, you’re finished. You take one final section underneath his jaw, rinse, dry, and fold the blade back into its case. Snagging one of the washcloths nearby, you soak it in the warm water and wring it out, bringing it to Aaron’s face. 

He watches your eyes as you wipe the remaining shaving cream from his skin with a heartbreaking tenderness. The warmth is divine, and all his panic melts away at your touch. A profound feeling of safety washes over him. With a little bit of a start, he realizes there’s not a nick or cut on him at all. 

That’s talent. 

When you bring the towel down again, your Aaron stares back at you. “There you are.” 

“Here I am.” His hands play with the edge of your shirt, and your heel sneaks up the back of his leg. “Jack will be home soon.” The warning is weak at best, and you check the clock. 

“Henry’s soccer game doesn’t end for another twenty minutes, and you know Will will take them for ice cream after.” 

Aaron hums thoughtfully, pretending to think. He cants his head and studies you, his eyes narrow. 

“What?” You ask through a little laugh. 

“I’m just trying to figure out why I can’t get enough of you.” His hands reach your back and pull your chest flush against his, and you let out a little unintentional whine from the back of your throat.

“Aaron…” You tip your head back against the wall as his lips wander from the corner of your mouth to your neck and collarbones, his hands sweeping over your skin. 

He returns to your lips, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “You know,” he says against your lips, “we haven’t christened anywhere except the bed, yet.”

You pull back, and find a wicked glint in his eye. “Aaron Hotchner, are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“I’m not suggesting anything.” 

+++

After, he holds you to him, and you stay there for what feels like hours, just resting against each other. 

+++

Emily is relentless - three drinks in and she’s still badgering you about your sex life. “I’m serious, and I’m just drunk enough to ask the good questions.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and bumps you with her shoulder. 

It's the third week of your suspension, and the committee has subpoenaed you all starting next Tuesday. Tonight, the team drinks to a possible future of unemployment.

You laugh, taking a sip of your water. You’re playing designated driver tonight, along with Hotch. You figure it’s easier to sneak around when the rest of the team is drunk. “Yeah, and I’m sober enough to not answer them.”

“Oh come on, at least give us something,” Penelope whines. 

Against your better judgement, you relent a little. “Alright. You get five vague questions - no names, no identifying details. Five.” 

“Each?” Garcia’s eyebrows raise, but immediately fall into a scowl when you reply -

“Total.” 

Emily downs the rest of her drink. “Alright. I’ll go first. Size?” 

Your lips twitch. “Impressive.” 

“Stamina?” Penelope chirps. 

“Exceedingly impressive.” 

“What’s exceedingly impressive?” Derek comes up behind Emily and kisses her on the cheek. She preens a little before answering. 

“Well, someone,” she points at you, “is sleeping with someone, and we have been granted five vague answers to five vague questions.”

Aaron rounds the other side of Penelope, where his singular beer awaits him. He takes a sip to hide his smile. From here, you’re the only one who can see his face straight-on. 

Clever bastard. 

Derek offers you a fist, and you tap his knuckles with your own. “Yes, sweetness! You know you gettin’ it!” You laugh. 

“Shut up, Derek.” 

He winks at you. 

Penelope reviews the previous two questions, rapid fire. “We only have size and stamina so far - impressive and exceedingly impressive, respectively.” 

You do your best to avoid a pair of watchful and amused brown eyes. “Alright, three more.” 

Emily ponders for a minute. “Record?”

“For?” 

“How many times have you gotten off in one night?”

You pretend to think for a moment. “Do you actually mean one night, or just in one round.” 

Penelope’s jaw drops, and you try not to laugh out loud. 

“Um…” Emily’s caught off guard a little. “One night - wait, are you sure you’re dating a man-person?”

A laugh escapes you. “Yes, I’m sure he’s a man person, I’m not dating him, and to answer your first question, I would conservatively estimate six, but I’m... honestly not sure.” 

Derek’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. “Where did you meet this guy?” 

“I refuse to answer on the grounds of specificity.” 

“Alright, fine.” He amends. “Rank?”

“As in, how does he numerically compare to other men I may or may not have slept with?” Derek nods, and you tip your chin rather arrogantly, still avoiding Aaron’s eyes across the table. “One. Ten out of ten. Five stars.” 

You take a sip of your water and finally glance in Aaron’s direction, throwing a wink at him. The corner of his mouth quirks, but he recovers quickly. 

“Hotch, do you have a question?”

He waves her off, taking another sip of his beer. “Don’t indict me.”

“Okay, then I’ll take last one. It’s gotta be good and I’m really gonna put you on the spot.” Emily points at you, and you push a water glass toward her. That’s invitation enough. “Do you think he’s it for you, then? If he’s the best? Do you know him well enough that you could say he’s The One - not that I believe in that sort of garbage or that sex is the be and and end all, of course - but, yeah. You’re definitely into him. I can tell. So spill.”

You take a deep breath. 

Decisions, decisions. 

A small smile stretches across your lips. “I think he’s got a really decent shot, if he plays his cards right.” 

And we all know how good Aaron is at poker.

Derek tips his head. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises his glass. “To one lucky motherfucker, wherever he may be.” 

You take a sip of your water and chance a glance across the table again. A silent conversation begins, taking place over the course of a split second. 

His eyebrows raise, just a touch for just a moment. You mean it? 

You suppress a smile. 

He sighs, nodding to himself just a little. Gotta play my cards right, then, I guess. 

Guess so. 

+++

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[sneyrwrites]

|| Homesick || Kuroo Tetsurou X Reader

✘ Wordcount: 4,5k

✘ Genre: Angst, fluff. smut 

✘ Warnings: NSFW

Author Note: What is it about my need to write angst lately? Anyway, Enjoy! (criticism is always welcome)

This started out as a 500 words drabble, but it got out of hand.

Kuroo had no idea how he would get through this fucking course without breaking down at some point. The worksheets and load of work he had to pull through would get him a few early gray hairs, his psyche suffering tremendously, but oh well... that’s what college was about. 

 The only thing he looked forward to was getting home, where you were probably waiting for him with a warm smile and a heart-melting “welcome”. Those were the time where he could feel all of his stress and negativity dissipate into thin air.

The sound of the lock opening brought a flutter in his stomach, him already anticipating the sweet relief of finding you there upon opening the door.

The cold and dark room was the only thing to receive him.

Oh, right... you were not there anymore.

You had left a long time now, exhausted by his constant neglect. Could he blame you though? Of course not.

If he was honest, in fact, he wouldn’t have put up with his sorry ass for half of the time you did. But seeing the empty shoe rack by the door, and the hangers stripped from that hideous scarf you insisted on wearing, he could not fight the tears that threatened to fall. What was he supposed to do now?

 The click of the switch brought light into his house, which he no longer called home. Kuroo ran a hand through his messier than usual hair, and sighing heavily he left his bag on the floor, not caring about his spilled books.

He didn’t feel like doing his project anymore, and talking to your mutual friends would only bring him more despair, as Bokuto seemed to only know how to talk about you.

The creaking of the mattress when he heavily fell on it used to bring him joy, because it was often accompanied by your soft giggle, followed by the usual “Tough day, huh?”

You had no idea.

You had no idea just how tough his days had been since you left, depriving his apartment from the spark it used to have.

It was unfair for him to feel this sour about the situation. Break-ups sucked, and he had every right to feel hurt about it, but he recognized his actions had lead to the outcome. You tear-streaked face would hunt him for eternity.

“I can’t handle this anymore Kuroo...” Your whispered words, so tiny and fragile, but so powerful at the same time, breaking his heart in a million pieces.

The words died in his mouth, so he just steeped aside, letting you go without even trying to make you stay.

All the I love you’s and promises he never got to make, all the late night snacks and pillow talks you would never share.

Now they were nothing but a wish, an illusion that dissipated into thin air.

The first week you were gone, he was resentful and shady over social media, like he was only a teenager who’s crush rejected. But, as Kenma had put it in simple words. He was just a sore loser.

You had tried your best, but the fights started to rise, In volume, in frequency, in anger. And they were about the stupidest things ever, like him not feeling like getting up on his sparse free moments to go out with you, him refusing to eat with you at the table. Once you were gone, he regretted letting all of his frustration and stress out on you.

Half of his helplessness came from a selfish place if he really thought about it. You were his mini vacation, his heaven on earth, and he had destroyed it, even noticing his mistake until it was too late and the sheets were cold, just like the half-finished cup of tea you had left at the counter, and he still didn’t have the courage to put away.

Akaashi’s couch was soft and comfortable, hugging your body as if it was a cloud.

But it wasn’t Kuroo’s bed. The warmth the boy irradiated as he sleeps was missing. The way he would sometimes mumble nonsense or when his hand would reach for yours in the middle of the night, simply because.

Those were the things you missed the most. At those times at night you couldn’t help but think. Were you over reacting?

You knew he was stressed about school, maybe you shouldn’t have been as harsh, but thinking about letting him go over you like if you were nothing but the shoe mat in the front door, made a bitter taste settle in the back of your mouth and a resentment you never wanted to have towards him bloom.

If you didn’t walk away when you did you would have ended up hating him, or hating him in the tough moments at least, because when everything was going good, Kuroo made you feel like you were floating, and oh so loved.

But he tended to lock himself inside his head, submerging in a spiral of unhealthy habits of insomnia and a full gallon of caffeine to keep going. Shutting you out completely, brushing your attempts at spend time with him off.

Sighing, you rolled on the couch by the tenth time that hour, restless and sad. Akaashi’s apartment was pitch black. The only thing cutting through all the blackness was your phone, displaying a picture of you and Kuroo, smiling at the museum, in front of a painting of Marie Curie. That one was taken in summer vacations, when he still hadn’t started his courses and could spend some time with you while being awake.

Maybe it was unfair of you to disappear from his life out of nowhere, just picking everything up and running to hide behind your friend, not able to confront Kuroo and see his reaction at your abandonment for more than ten seconds.

You turned again, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders slipping to your waist. You didn’t even bother to readjust it.

“You know, I Can hear your sorrow all the way from my room.” Akaashi’s voice startled you, Looking up you noticed his silhouette in the living room entrance. Sighing, he uncrossed his arms and started towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make tea.”

Two heartbeats later, a steaming cup was in your hands, your friend sitting next to you, sipping his green tea in silence.

“Okay...” He said once he finished the cup, leaving it in the table. His voice calm and collected. “What is it? You obviously need to talk.” You kept silence, focusing on the pale color of your drink. It didn’t taste like Kuroo’s tea at all. This one was missing something... You sipped again, still unsure about speaking up about what was bothering you.

“ I know it’s about Kuroo, and I know you need help to figure your feeling out... But understand I Can’t help you if you don’t speak to me... I’ve been patient for the two weeks and a half you’ve been crashing in my couch.” He turned to you, resting his elbow in the back of it, his face supported by his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, i love having you here and all. But it’s obvious you don’t. Judging by the way you’re stabbing daggers at the tea...”

“Sorry, I just...” You didn’t know what to say. That you missed Tetsuro’s bed or his tea? That you could not get the way he sings in the shower to cheesy 80’s songs out of your head? Or the way your hand always felt empty without his in it? “I miss him...” That seemed to sum it up pretty well.

“I thought you couldn’t handle the relationship anymore...” He prompted

You shook your head, setting your still full cup in the table.

“I couldn’t... but I don’t know” You were bad at communicating, maybe that was one of the reasons you chose to escape rather than talk.

“Do you think you could have handle things different with him when it started getting rough?” Akaashi’s words were intense, just like the look he was giving you, his clever gaze analyzing up every single reaction you made.

Yeah, in fact, you thought about that.

Maybe that was why you were so restless, the guilt o knowing you could have done more for the two of you, but choose to do nothing weighted on your conscious

“You know, if you want to go back with him, that doesn’t make you any less strong (Y/N)... Sometimes we just don’t handle our emotions in the right way. And it seems to me that the both of you made a few mistakes... Maybe you should talk to Kuroo. Who knows? This time it could go better...” Akaashi got up and went to his room, throwing a “Try to rest” Over his shoulder.

What were you going to do? The shame of your actions overshadowed all logic and reason.

What if Kuroo told you to fuck off? He could hate you for all you knew.

You hadn’t made up your mind the next morning, still teetering on the edge to throwing your pride to the garbage and just beg him to take you back or just leave everything as it was. Time cured everything, right?

Coincidentally with this debate you were having between logic and feelings, your college sent you an email regarding a few missing papers you needed to hand over in the office. Bad -or good-thing was, you left that folder at Kuroo’s place thinking you wouldn’t need it anymore.

Seems like you would have to see him, you wanted it or not.

Three knocks on his door woke Kuroo up that Saturday morning.

He considered the possibility of just not getting up, too tired by his restless nights to function properly, but by the time whoever was outside the door knocked again he was walking to the door, throwing a random hoodie that was lying around his naked torso to look somewhat presentable. He didn’t want to look like a perv in case it was his landlady, a sweet grandma that was always nice and used to bring you cookies from time to time. Kuroo remembered tenderly those times where the lady and you would spend hours in the corridor sharing recipes and exchanging goodies.

He missed those days.

Kuroo opened the door and froze in the middle of zipping the hoodie up.

Was he dreaming? It wouldn’t be the first time, Those weeks without you were a torture, and your memories usually haunted his dreams, you in the arms of someone else were a popular theme in his subconscious.

And now, you were there, right in front of him, close enough to extend his hand and brush the skin on your cheek. He was dumbfounded, not able to emit a word.

He thought you were no longer going to speak to him, sending Akaashi or Bokuto to pick up the remainder of your stuff.

“Um... Hi” You hesitated, trying to look at anything but his exposed mid drift, but failing completely. “Sorry to bother, but I forgot a few important papers the last time I was here.” you tried to say as nonchalantly as possible

“Oh... “ He said, stepping aside, letting you into the apartment you used to share. “Sure... Do you remember where it was?”

You took a step in and the rush of longing took you by surprised.

You missed that tiny and uncomfortable couch so much, and the horrible square pattern blanked Kuroo bought ant kept in the chair next to it. The curtains that would slap you in the face if the windows behind the sofa was open, everything there felt like home, and you knew you were the one to go away in the first place, but still.

Akaashi was right, you didn’t even try to talk to him before running away, too traumatized by past experiences to even try to make it work. Th tears choked you and threaten to fall.

It was too late. Asking to try again would be so selfish, after the mess you caused yourself.

“(Y/N)?” Tetsurō‘s gentle tone broke you out of your trance.

“Huh? Oh yeah, It’s probably in the bedroom...” Was it even appropriate for you to go inside his bedroom still? Kuroo must’ve noticed your hesitation because he signal with his hand for you to go first.. The flash of sadness in his eyes almost going unnoticed by you.

Everything was just as you left it inside the room. The same glass of water on the nightstand, your drawers only halfway closed cause you were in a rush when you left, afraid that you back out of your dumb and rushed plan to break up with him all of the sudden, thinking that way would be better, just like ripping a band-aid.

In the bookcase against the wall you spotted the red folder you came looking for. Once it was in your grasp, you really didn’t have an excuse to delay your exit from Kuroo’s house... that used to be your home, and that you wanted so bad to call it home once again.

Turning back to him, who was standing at the door you hugged the folder to your chest.

“So... this was it. Thank u Tets...” You noticed your mistake and tried to correct it “Kuroo... I better leave now.” You advanced towards the door, but his sulked figure blocked the way. “Kuroo?”

You looked up at him, and the tears in his hazel orbs stunned you. His lips trembled slightly and with a frustrated groan he rubbed his eyes harshly.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, keeping them covered. A broken sigh shaking his shoulders, “I hate this... I hate it so much...”

Your heart clenched, and you regretted not sending Akaashi in your place. He obviously wasn’t okay with you there.

“Oh um... Sorry, I’ll just leave now.” You attempted to sidestep him to get out of the room, but in heart beat his long arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest.

The sobs of the boy you loved made his chest vibrate under your skin, and the pain he was feeling you could feel it too. You didn0t hesitate, and as if it was a second nature to you, you squeezed him harder, kissing the soft bare skin of his chest, as you felt your chest collapse into itself.

Could someone die from sadness and love at the same time? Because that was how you were feeling.

“I’m sorry... I know it’s too late and all... But I really am sorry...” He started, his words coming out strangled by the tears, but you shushed him as the tears slipped over your cheeks, leaving wet trails on them.

“Shh... I’m sorry too.” You chocked on a I love that you refused to let slip past your lips. He could be trying to move on, and this was just a minor setback, you would not be that selfish and just throw your feeling into him.

Still presses against his body, you sighed

You missed so badly the feeling of his arms around you, and the way your body fit into his in all the right places, his hands burying themselves in your hair as he brought you closer to him.

Kuroo Tetsurō was your home. The home you lost the key to, locking yourself out of it in a careless action.

“(Y/N)?... I’m sorry...” You opened your mouth to say it was okay when he spoke again. “I love you so much... and I’m so sorry I pushed you away...” The air was sucker punched out of your lungs. And now it was your body, the one being rocked by uncontrollable sobs.

You loved him too, but were too busy weeping to respond to his declaration.

Kuroo held you in his arms, while the both of you cried.

It was almost therapeutic, finally being able to apologize about his mistakes.

Something muffled came out of your mouth and he didn’t catch it, since the got lost against his skin, your warm breath tickling him.

“What baby?” He asked, and wanted to kick himself for it. He was not respecting your decision of separating with his actions and words, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming waves of emotions that watched over him.

“I want to come back home...” Kuroo stayed silent, processing what you just said. “I’m sorry for not trying to make us work Tetsu... But I miss you like crazy, and I was scared and I don’t know what I was thinking... I’m just so sorry...”

His response was simple. He hugged you closer, picking you up like he had done so many times in that same room.

He sat at the end of the bed, with you sitting on his lap, your head tucked in the crook of his neck while his hands caressed your scalp.

Once the sobs retreated, you lifted your head and looked at him in the eyes. Your eyelashes were shimmering with the remaining wetness the tears left behind, your nose was red as well as your cheeks.

Your eyes scanned his face and Kuroo held his breath when you leaned in, your lips softly brushing his, almost as if you feared rejection.

He could never say no to you.

He applied a little more pressure and he finally tasted your lips again. God, how he missed the feeling of your lips against his. Your breath tickled his mouth each time you pulled away to take a breath in between kisses.

Kuroo’s hands went to your back as the kiss rose in intensity. Your hands grabbed his shoulders, your fingers pressing his arm.

Kuroo could feel his erection grow, pressing against his gym shorts, and he was sure you could feel it too by the way your face was getting hotter to the touch.

You readjusted on top of him, your hips straddling his, and the friction from the movement tore a moan from his throat. Embarrassed, he tried to kiss you again to hide his blush, but you pulled away and looked him dead serious in the eyes. He started to feel nervous and was about to apologize, when all of the sudden you moved again, grinding against him. He let out another whiny moan and an entertained glint flashed across your eyes.

Your fingers found the zipper of the hoodie, and the cold skin of your knuckles brushing him as you undid it, exposing his abs. You admired them for a second before kissing him again, breathing in his scent. Slipping the hoodie from his shoulders, a shiver traveled his spine when your fingers brushed the sensitive spot in his clavicle. And an amused smile twitched in the corner of your lips, as you brought your face down to meet your lips with his skin.

Your scorching mouth against his neck made his head spin, and when your teeth made an appearence, he could not help the clench of his stomach, the nibbles you left on his skin sending a tingling to his toes. He sucked in a sharp breath when to licked behind his ear all of the sudden, and the low chuckle on his ear snapped him out of the daze you had him in.

Grabbing your hip and back, he pressed you harder against him, and a gasp left your lips. Smiling smugly, he flipped both of you over.

Kuroo smile above you, as he teasingly trailed his fingers against your sides, until he came to a stop on the edges of your pants, looking at you once again to confirm you were still okay.

Your smirk was the only confirmation he needed.

He unbuttoned your jeans and he took them off, throwing the garment  somewhere behind him. His mouth came down to your lips once again as his hand slipped inside your underwear that was a dripping mess because of him.

Pride swelled his chest at the thought he was the one making you feel like this, craving his touch just as much as he craved yours.

When his fingers brushed your clit, a strangled moan came out of you, and oh how much he missed the sounds you made when he touched you like that.

He kissed you like there was no tomorrow, his mouth claiming yours, teeth pulling your lips and soft words whispered into them as his finger kept stimulating you, a fog settling over your mind.

“I love you so fucking much...” His mouth went to your chin, and kept going down, trailing your skin, an electric shock struck you from head to toe when he kissed that one spot in your hip he knew drove you crazy. “So fucking beautiful...” He praised.

He kept going down, his lips ghosting over your inner thighs and his breath brushing over your cunt and making you whine out his name.

“Kuroo...” You said. Your hand digging into his hair as your eyes flutter closed.

“What is it, baby?” He asked, and you could even hear the mock in his tone. You were going to respond, when his teeth nibbled the sensitive skin, careful not to hurt you.

Pulling aside your underwear, his mouth found your pulsating sex. And a shock wave of ecstasy filled your body. It didn’t take too long for him to have you at the edge, your toes curling and your hand clutching his hair. Heaving breaths rose your chest and with one last flick of Kuroo’s tongue an orgasm hit you full force, his name coming out of your lips.

“Tetsu...” A series of spasms rocked your body, and your legs clenching around his head, and Kuroo Chuckled at your reaction, amazed at the intensity of your pleasure.

Once you came out of your high, Kuroo settled next to you in bed, his erection still present and bothering him a little, but he was content with making you feel good. He needed nothing else. He could take care of his arousal later.

Rolling over you sat on top of him, leaning down you kissed his neck as you dragged your hands down his abs, feeling the smooth muscles underneath your fingertips, and you noticed just how much you had missed the intimacy you both shared. Your hands kept traveling until you found the elastic of his pants and pulled them down, brushing his swelling member as you pulled the garment down, stripping Kuroo of his last garment.

With his pants out of the way, you could feel the heat from his cock against your wet pussy. He helped you take out your shirt and kissed the exposed skin in between your breasts.

You rubbed on him once more, and the friction ignited the fire in your stomach. You circled Kuroo’s neck with your arms, and leaned you damped forehead on his chest, soft moans coming out of your mouth.

Lifting your hips slightly you aligned Kuroo’s dick with your entrance and in one swift motion you were filled to the rim with him.

“Shit (Y/n)!” He threw his head back, fingers digging at your hips, as you slowly adjusted to him. “God, I love you so much, I love you so fucking much baby...” Kuroo hissed. Kissing your temple, he then guided your hips up and down, feeling every inch of you tightening around him.

Your moans were shushed by his mouth, while your hips kept moving, feeling the way his member pushed at your walls, tightening the knot in the pit of your stomach.

Switching up the pace, Kuroo sat up and picked you up. Laying you on your back you admire the sight of him, his smooth skin and tall frame, his muscular legs and abs, his gentle hands, and his eyes that were so full of love.

You turned around, lifting your ass up and inviting him in. An almost animalistic growl left his throat at the sight.

“Please Tetsu...” You looked at him, with your eyes full of lust and a glint of mischief  in them. “I want you inside of me”

In less than a heartbeat he was inside of you once more, his hips colliding mercilessly with your ass, the lewd sounds of skin against skin mixed with the whimpers that involuntarily came out of your throat as he pounded your pussy like he wanted to.

“Fuck, I missed so much being inside of you.” He grunted, biting his lip.

Kuroo picked up his pace, and you reached for his hand. Intertwining your fingers, he kissed your knuckles, leaning to bite your neck playfully right after.

You could almost feel his abdomen twitching with the need to release his load inside of you. Your chest was flushed against the bed, as Kuroo’s rhythmic movements hit every right spot.

“Tetsu...” You whispered. “Please cum inside of me... I need you.” You begged, aching to be filled by him once more. Your words caused something on him, as if you had stepped on the gas .

The thrust of his hips got more intense and fast, hammering your pussy like it was the sole purpose of his existence. Your thoughts were jumbled and the only coherent thing on your mind was his name, so that all you said.

“Fuck” He moaned, his erratic pace almost matching the beating of your heart. “Oh god baby.... shit.”

With two last powerful you felt him filling you with his cum, releasing three weeks of frustration and desire.

Kuroo tried to pull out of you, but you prevented it, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down to rest on top of you, his bare and sweat covered chest against your back.

A content sigh left his lips and he kissed your shoulder, and your heart could have exploded right then and there.

“So... Now what?” He said, asking the question you were too afraid to voice.

You didn’t know how to precede. Did he wanted to try again? Or was this only a fling of the moment and nothing more?

“Hey.” He called your attention, shifting slightly so he could be lying half of his body on the mattress. You turned your head to him and came nose to nose with him. Kuroo placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “Quit over-thinking and be honest... I won’t get mad if this is really over and you regret this thing we just shared.” His face showed a vulnerability uncharacteristic of him and your heart clenched.

“What do you want?” You turned the question around, a nervous flutter in your stomach.

Without hesitation in his voice or in his eyes, he answered

“You.” He pecked your lips, pressing your foreheads together. You observed his beautiful eyes as he reassured you. “That’s all I ever wanted... You’re my home (Y/n), this house feels empty without you... My life feels empty if you’re not sharing it with me. So... what do you say baby, do you want to give us another chance?” He asked.

“I’m happy to be home Tetsu...”

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

I read the book a while ago and DCTL!Sammy was so frustrating that as a Sammy fan, I need to rant about him.

The man in the book may have had his name, but that thing was not the Sammy Lawrence I knew and loved.

First off: What the fuck? No seriously, what the actual fuck. Who the fuck is this man and what has he done with Sammy? Lets take all the Sammys we’ve seen in canon and compare them:

Tapes!Sammy: A tired, annoyed and bitter musician who is done with the shit his boss is putting him through. He sounds like he has bags under his eyes and is wearing a perfected a Customer Service Smile(TM) during work hours. 10/10 would pay to listen to him bitch about Joey in the break room.

Chapter 2!Sammy: Creepy, dramatic, stupidly trying to get a demon to notice him, and a ham of a villain. Judging by the phrase “He will set US free” pared with the fact we find out he lives in the village built by the searchers and lost ones and that he appears to he their leader, it seems like in universe, he’s the only one who cares about these miserable, once human creatures enough to actively help them. Even Allison Angel and Tom Boris, the ‘good’ guys, slaughter them mercilessly in their own home after they kill their leader. 10/10, fucking superb you funky little cultist man. (Henry gets a pass because he’s just trying to live and appears to show more empathy to them/guilt to them: ‘I’m sorry I had to do that, nice hat though’, ‘please don’t cry’, to himself: ‘you bring death’ ‘once people, now fallen into despair’) 

Hot Topic Q&A!Sammy: still creepy, but this man is a delight. He’s kind, he’s encouraging, he praises his fellow employees often, he’s passionate about his work and he has a wonderful sense of humor. We learn that he has memory problems but he’s trying his best. If this is what he’s normally like then I’m not surprised that the searchers/lost ones are willing to risk their lives to avenge him and I feel bad for him. 11/10, best sympathetic villain I’ve seen in years, would take him on a date to Coney Island.

Chapter 5!Sammy: Full of unbridled rage and pain after being betrayed. Attacks Henry on sight and we learn that he doesn’t like being seen without his mask. I don’t know what set him off this badly but I wish I did. 7/10, could’ve been better.

Employee Handbook!Sammy: Calling people sheep pre-ink is pretty weird to see from him considering that it’s an insult here and a term of endearment during the Q&A and I hope he’s either being sarcastic or is being blackmailed by Joey. 7/10, stop simping for Drew’s dick, king you deserve better wages, a better workplace, and a better boss.

DCTL!Sammy: I legit cringed every time he showed up and had to put the book down for a bit because he was just that unpleasant. Like Chapter 5!Sammy he is full of rage, unlike Chapter 5!Sammy he’s just lashing out at absolutely everyone and is a complete jackass who is also implied to be a bigot. The only thing this Sammy has in common with the other Sammys is his name, music and calling people ‘sheep’. If nobody said his name I’m pretty sure we’d all 100% accept that this is an entirely different character and that Sammy died before Buddy showed up. He’d be a terrible character who I’m pretty sure everybody would love to hate, but a different character nonetheless. His only redeeming quality is that he drinks ink and I think that’s kinda funny. -100/10, who are you and what have you done to my himbo ink husband?

Apparently, according to themeatly, DCTL!Sammy’s bad behavior is the ink making him more aggressive, and he disrespects Tom’s Job, not his skin color. I could buy those two points out of context as Sammy hates the pipes and pump switch in his office, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he took his anger out on Tom because he can’t do shit to Joey and Tom’s the one who installed the pipes/pump switch in his office. And I assume getting your flesh slowly but steadily transmuted into ink feels terrible and therefore, more likely to lash out more often.

But then why do we get the lines “What’s the matter Mr. Lawrence? Not used to giving someone like me respect?” (when Tom is talking to Sammy) and “I remembered Sammy calling the man from gent “Tom” and not “Mr. Conner” and I wondered if this was a habit of his. If this was what he did with everyone. Or maybe...how had Jacob put it in the bar about women and black people not getting the same respect” (Buddy thinking while watching Sammy talk to Abby)

How come we don’t get a non-inked DCTL!Sammy to compare to inked DCTL!Sammy? Why do we ONLY get the vile-behaving venom-spitting DCTL!Sammy? The audience might see the change in behavior and automatically think “Oh fuck something supernatural is going on” but this is a prequel story! we already know shit’s gonna go down! In story the characters could chalk it up to “Oh he’s probably being shitter than usual because he’s under a lot more stress than usual.” Or something like that.

What especially pisses me off is how EASY it would be to fix the bigot problem! What if we took the lines and changed them to: “What’s the matter Mr. Lawrence? Not used to giving a blue collar like me respect?” (So that it establishes that it IS the job and not the skin Sammy has a problem with like themeatly had wanted us to read it as apparently.) and “I Remembered Sammy calling the man “Tom” and not “Mr. Conner” and I wondered if this was a habit of his. If this is what he did with everyone. If it was, then how come he never calls me by my name?” He’d still be an asshole but at least he’d be a less shitty one.

Speaking of which, lets talk about something that I’ve never seen anybody else comment on: the fact he treats our protagonist Buddy with so much more disrespect than I’ve seen every other character in the book. It’s not just me, right? Was I really the only one who noticed this?

While Sammy does call everybody by their first names, (Joey, Tom, and Abby) the exception to this rule appears to be Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, whom he instead calls “Art Department”, while the other characters are referred to casually instead of properly, they at least are called their own names, poor Buddy gets a nickname based off of which part of the studio he works in.

Right off the bat, when Buddy helps DTCL!Sammy get the ink out of his face do you know what he immediately does afterwards? Does he say “Thanks for the help”, “Oh hey, you’re new.”, “I swear those pipes will kill me one day, good thing it wasn’t today” or anything else like that? nope!

He just drags Buddy to the closet and he forces him to clean up the ink. In the employee handbook, we know that only Wally is allowed to clean up ink-related messes and it’s fair to assume that Sammy knows this so why is he breaking the rules by forcing Buddy to clean the ink for just being at the wrong place at the wrong time? He didn’t even apologize for his behavior anywhere, he just intimidates Buddy and later in the book attempts to kill him for Bendy.

In conclusion: I am frustrated and this is not my inky himbo music man.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

White Out

Lateish Sokkla Saturday piece.

Summary: While on vacation to a ski resort, Azula and Sokka get stranded in a blizzard. 

Night has already fallen, snowflakes stand sharply out against a dark sky. Outside the wind shrieks, throwing blasts of snow against the side of the resort. A fire blazes in fireplace and the TV blares the same warning, ‘Caution: Winter Weather Advisory in Effect. Blizzard. Low Temperatures Across The Map’. And as it scrolls, ‘Stay Inside If Possible.’ Across the town jobs have sent workers home and schools, were it not winter break, wouldn’t have opened at all. The advisory closes with a deep and loud buzz, Zuko knows that it will be back within the next half hour. 

“They aren’t back yet.” Katara hasn’t stopped pacing since the first snow flake collided with the windowpane. Now that it is snowing more heavily she is visibly shaking. 

“I’m sure that they’re on their way.” Zuko smiles. It is the nervous sort of smile. The kind that intends reassurance but betrays stress. “Azula was probably nagging Sokka to head back the minute they got to the top of the mountain.” 

“But Sokka is annoyingly persistent. The last time we went skiing, we almost got stranded because they forgot that we went up for one more round.” Katara shares. She swallows and her look of horror amplifies. “Oh, gosh, Zuko...what if they…? All of the workers were sent home. What if…”

“They wouldn’t have just left them.” 

“Mistakes happen, Zuko!”

He moves away from the fireplace and comes to stand in front of the lobby doors. A later car pulls in, fishtailing on the ice and narrowly missing the ‘handicapped only’ sign. The car comes to a halt in the snowback. He watches the man decide to forget about his luggage for the night. He hustles his children inside. 

“‘S cold one out there.” He remarks with a good natured laugh as he passes by. 

“Yeah, I can feel it from here.” He agrees. 

.oOo.

His tears are born of frustration and fear. And regret. They freeze to his cheeks as soon as he sheds them. Azula has gone nearly still hours ago. He holds her against his chest, he thinks that her eyes might be frozen shut, snow clings to her lashes and her cheeks have gone from flushed with cold to a deathly pale. 

To think that it had been such a good day. They’d gone up the mountain feeling cozy and enthusiastic. His hand was cupped around a steaming coffee and she had ordered white hot chocolate. Since sunrise she had been beating him down the mountain and the scoreboard was tipped so heavily in her favor (especially with the bonus points she had amassed for all of her tricks) that his only hope was to beat her in their final winner takes all competition. 

Despite feeling bitter to the highest degree, he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder as the ski lift climbed. There was already a sharp chill in the air, the first sign of the forewarned snow storm. 

“Are you sure?” Azula asked for the seventh time that he had bothered to count. “It’s supposed to be a bad storm.”

“You’re just afraid that I’m going to kick your ass this time!”

He remembers her frown that look of determination that had cut through her reluctance. He supposes that those were the words that had sealed her fate. The words that he will hate himself for, for the rest of his life. Though he isn’t sure that the rest of his life is that long anyhow. 

“I’m not afraid. I’ll win.” She had folded her arms across her chest. 

He looks at her stiff figure. He wishes that she did win, that she would just wake up and brag about how she’s surviving much better than he. But the fact is that she has always been more susceptible to the cold. She has been since they were children. But she always has been too stubborn to admit it; she would let her nose get bright red and runny before admitting that she wanted to go inside. He would always have to pretend that he was really cold too just to keep her from catching a cold. 

Small as she is and with no extra padding, she doesn’t really stand a chance even wrapped in his coat and her own; and here is no going inside this time. 

“I’m sorry, Azula. This is my fault.” He brushes a mittened hand over her face. Her hair is brittle, the strands plastered together with ice. He thinks that she doesn’t look human anymore, more like a doll or a mannequin. A snow covered statue. He holds his hand to her chest just to feel it rise and full, to feel the terrifyingly slow beat of her heart. 

All he can do is pray and think over how things had come to unfold. They had made it to the top of the mountain and a good halfway down it. By then the flurries had started, the winds had began to gust with more force and Azula seemed to grow visibly concerned. She was more subdued, less talkative and harrowingly less competitive. He should have known to just cave and head back when she told him that it was fine and that he could just ‘have his stupid fucking victory’. But he was still high on happiness and adventure. He was still pumped and ready to continue their contest, he wanted to win fair and square. 

By the time that he realized that they were in trouble visibility had dropped drastically. In mere seconds, they were in white out conditions. Azula was already shaking rather violently, her face a bright red and it wasn’t with anger. She, in fact, was looking almost meek and teary beneath a very forced bravado. 

The determination never left her face.

He thinks that it is still there now. 

They wandered for some time before Azula began to slow. “Sokka, I’m really cold.” She’d whispered. He remembers because for a while she simply kept repeating it, over and over again until he’d handed over his coat. Even then she kept up the mantra. Her shivering seeming to increase by the minute. 

And then her mantra had evaporated into silence until she grew delirious enough to speak again. She started telling him about the time she and Zuko built a snowman with their father. He remembers none of it, probably because her speech was slurred to the point that he could only pick out, ‘Zuzu’, ‘father’, and ‘snowman’. The rest of the story had been garbled and indecipherable.

He had let her keep talking.

She had asked for his coat.

He reminded her that she already had it.

He was freezing his ass off. 

Ten minutes later she asked again.

And then another ten minutes later. 

He doesn’t think that she could remember asking him at all. 

And then he had to fight with her as she tried to take her clothes off. 

And now she is still in his arms. 

And now he wants to go still too.

He hugs her tighter and rubs his cheek against hers. At least when they’re found, they’ll be found together and Zuko and Katara will know that they hadn’t been alone nor separated. That they had each other until the very end. Azula did anyhow, not that anyone else would be able to determine that. 

For some reason, he expected her to open her mouth and murmur a final parting word. 

He is so tired. 

.oOo.

The conditions are much too perilous for a search party. They promise to send in the morning. Zuko notes the grim undertone. The search party that they will send out tomorrow will mostly be looking for bodies buried in the snow. And who knows how far from the path they have stayed. Sokka is an idiot—he tries not to say as much in front of Katara—and Azula is a fighter. He can’t imagine that they stayed in once place.

“Well!? What did they say? Are they sending people out?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Let’s go back to the room, Katara.”

“Zuko.” Her eyes grow misty. “Zuko no. They have to send someone. They can’t just...oh Zuko.” She flops down on one of the lobby sofas.

“Katara,” he says softly, “we can’t stay here all night.”

“But what if they get back?” She asks. “We have to be here.”

“You need some sleep. The desk clerk will give us a call if anyone comes in.”

But she doesn’t budge and nothing he can do will make her. She doesn’t move an inch until the door crashes open causing her to jerk.

Sokka makes it only just inside before swaying on his feet and collapsing. Azula falls with him.

And Zuko chokes. He wishes that he wouldn’t have brought her back. He’d rather hear that she froze to death than see it for himself.

He glares at Sokka. At his best friend. And he wishes that the boy had died too. He always got Azula into trouble. Not that she doesn’t do the same. But he knows that Sokka has caused this.

.oOo.

Waking up is like a dream; it is fuzzy and doesn’t make sense. Feels as though she shouldn’t be awake at all. And she supposed that she isn’t. Not entirely. Which might be why she asks, “did I win, Sokka?”

But Sokka isn’t there, she thinks that she is alone. She alone and confused. It is warm, she realizes. Warm and bundles in blankets. For a moment she doesn’t remember why this is significant.

And then it strikes her that she is in the hospital. She sits up and looks around the room, she hears the faint beeping of a heart monitor and wonders if her heart rate is healthy, she supposes that there would be doctors flocking to her if it wasn’t.

She realizes that Sokka is in the bed over, she wants to get up and go over to him, but she is tethered to her bed by IV’s and monitor wires. With nothing else to do, she lays back down. She doesn’t mean to, but she falls back asleep. She supposes that her body could use that. 

She wakes up on and off through the night but Sokka never seems to be awake when she is and the nurse informs her that Zuko and Katara have just left. And that she was going to be out of the hospital before her parents’ plane landed. She can only imagine the earful that Zuko was going to get from father. 

When she full comes around she is, as promised, back at the hotel. Her night stand is teeming with flowers and get well soon cards. She knows that Toph has received word because there is a handmade snowman that looks curiously like her, it has all of the trademarks of Poppy Beifong and all the offensive humor of her daughter. 

“You’re finally awake.” Zuko notes with a smile. “Katara got you some soup and hot chocolate from the cafe.” 

Azula rummages through her get well soon gifts, pulls out a quilt, and wraps it around herself. Once she gets to the table she inspects her hands and feet. All of her fingers and toes are accounted for. But she is terribly fatigued and her throat tickles. She is getting sick and she knows it. The soup will do her sore throat well. “Is Sokka up yet?” She asks, finding that her voice is already somewhat hoarse. 

“Right here!” He weaves. 

“This is all your fault.”

His face falls. “I know.” 

Azula frowns, torn between annoyance and sympathy. 

“We should have just gone home. I almost got you killed. I thought that you were dead.” He sputters. “I...you stopped moving and you were so cold.” 

Her aggravation dissipates. “Well I’m still here, she mutters. Here and ready to make you suffer for it.”

“I already have.” He clearly isn’t in a joking mood. She can count that as a first. He holds up his hand, it is bandaged heavily. “I gave you my gloves because I thought that you needed them more.” 

Her stomach flutters. “You lost your fingers?”

“So you didn’t have to.” He gives a sheepish smile. “Hey, it was my mistake. You shouldn’t have to pay for it.” 

“I could have just let you have your stupid victory.” She folds her arms over her chest. She finishes her soup and sits down on his lap. “You’re warm, Sokka.” 

He kisses the crook of her neck and she feels his arms wrap around her torso. “You’re hot.”

“I know.” She takes his formerly frostbitten hand and lifts it up to observe it. “Thank you for the gloves.” 

He smiles again. “I don’t mind. You always hated the cold more than I did. And besides, I was getting tired of slamming that finger in the door anyways.” 

It is a relief to hear him cracking jokes again. 

“Seriously, you two?” Katara asks.

“She’s sick, Sokka. Do you want to get sick too?” Zuko adds.

Sokka wriggles his brows before pecking her on the lips. As if to prove Zuko’s point she turns away to cough several times. 

“Go eat the rest of your soup, Azula.” 

“Already finished.” 

“You can have some of mine.” With his remaining good hand, he holds a spoonful out to her. 

She takes the spoon and holds it out for him. “You eat your own soup.” 

“Only if you help me.” 

“Alright, fine. But only because you’re missing a finger and it makes Zuko mad.” Azula replies. He leans in for a bite but she pulls the spoon away. “Did I win?”

“What?”

“The skiing competition. Did I win?”

Sokka groans. 

“I’d say that you both won.” Katara replies. 

And Azula supposes that she is right. They’d beaten the cold more or less and they had beaten death, if only barely. The night is a blur in her mind but Sokka mentions having to carry her several miles down the mountain. She won’t say it out loud, but she thinks that counts as a winner takes all sort of victory. 

She holds out the spoon for him. 

.oOo.

He curls up next to her in the bed. He plans on savoring it, both of their parents will be in tomorrow, weather permitting, and they will spend the rest of their vacation supervised. He doesn’t count on it, they had tried to make it out the minute Katara had made her distressed phone call.

 He has another trip to the hospital the next morning, a follow up. But tonight he can relax. He can’t help but be at least somewhat bitter at how this vacation has ended up, but when Azula rolls over to face him with a sleepy murmur, he finds that it is okay. 

He watches snow building up against windowpane and Azula snuggles up against him. It is more than a relief to feel her body heat. To know that she has body heat again. Granted, she is now burning up with fever, but she seems to be doing well enough. Mostly she is drowsy and lethargic. But cold medicine keeps takes the brunt off of it as his painkillers take the edge off of his own ailment. 

She sniffles and her eyes flutter open. 

He reaches for the book on the nightstand. So far, each time she has woken up, she requested that he read her back to sleep. If he is lucky she offers to read to him until she grows too tired to continue. 

They sit up and she leans on him as he finds the page that they’d left off on. Azula wraps the blanket more tightly around them. He supposes that this trip isn’t a complete disaster after all.