#… I think when my parents leave next weekend/ I should talk with my two best friends about a lot of things that happened recently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 1 year

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let's go, don't wait (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, some sexual themes. some discussions of bad parents. eddie had some sad parts of his childhood. all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (11k) eddie is 32, reader is 30. so older!reader i guess, idk. i already started writing the part two which is almost entirely smut.

Jingle. Click. Creak. “Mmmm.” Eddie knows that groan anywhere, the deep primal urging of a one Gareth Emerson and the giggles of his girlfriend, Tatianna Edwards. They stumble into the apartment, lips attached, hands grabbing and fisting each other’s layers from the cold.

“Hi guys,” he calls out, his tone was as bored and annoyed as he hoped it would be. His eyes don’t leave the TV, transfixed on the screen while he watches another YouTube compilation of the best guitar solos of all time. He disagrees with most of them, but it’s enough to drone on in the background while he scrolls through his Twitter feed. He’s never even posted. Not once. Not even a picture on his profile.

“Hi Ed,” Tati chirps, clicking the side table lights on. He can smell her Chloe perfume when she comes to give him a hug hello. Her arms wrap around him from behind the couch, cheeks touching, a few of her butterfly twists falling forward over his shoulder.

“Did you stay in tonight?” she asks, pressing a glossy smooch to his cheek. “Sure did,” he huffs, arms crossing over hers in a semblance of an embrace. Her gold bracelets are cool against his skin, her gold rings match his silver ones. He thought when Tati entered the picture that he and Gareth would’ve started to drift apart. Instead, Tati became Eddie’s new best friend – Gare really took ‘date the girl version of Eddie’ to heart. They were two peas in a pod. “You should’ve come out, there were a lot of single girls there – you’re a good dancer, you coulda snagged one,” she sounds like a mother trying to set him up. Eddie tilts his head up and looks at her from below, her deep skin shimmering with the glitter fallout from her eye makeup. She always looks pretty with ease, even with her makeup smudged – like she meant to do that.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he smiles tightly, but the look falls to something soft when Tati lets go and her almond shaped manicured nails rake gently over his scalp through his conditioned curls. “You can’t just keep picking up girls from shows, dude,” Gareth chides playfully, coming around the couch to sit next to him, “They’re starting to get waaaay too young for you at the bars.”

“Yeah, perv,” Tatianna teases, ruffling his hair before curling up on the recliner closer to the TV.

“Can we please not talk about this again,” Eddie sighs, sinking further into the cushions. He presses on his eyes with the heels of his hands, “You do this every time you guys come back from a date.”

“We gotta get you on Hinge, or something,” Gareth says.

“Tinder at the very least,” Tatianna follows.

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” Eddie grunts when he gets up, a little dizzy at the speed before he finds his footing, “Don’t be too loud tonight.”

“Just trying to help!” Tati calls out, “You deserve to be too loud at night, too!”

Eddie sucks his teeth before he turns the corner to the hallway, disappearing for the night while his friends fell more in love.

It feels like they’re disassembling a bomb. Eddie sulks in a seat at the kitchen table while Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Gareth chatter behind him. Jeff and his wife sit across from him with just as much excitement as the group opposite them. Eddie frowns, bangs too long over his eyes, hands sweating onto the back of his banged up stickered phone case.

“I think you should put the picture of the guitar last, it doesn’t have your face in it. I’d swipe past you,” Robin points at the screen in front of him while he tries to make sense of his Hinge profile.

“Well you’re a whole lesbian Rob, so you’d swipe past me anyway,” Eddie’s clipped words make the group laugh instead of making them back off. His shoulders sink immediately. This was mortifying.

“She’s right though,” Steve pipes up, “They’ll think you’re some weirdo who's obsessed with his guitar if you — well, actually then maybe it’s fine…”

“Why don’t you—” Jeff starts.

“You’re married and you’ve been with Alycia since 2014. Your opinions are void,” Eddie interrupts with a sigh.

Jeff lets out a laugh from his broad smile, “Look, I’m just saying. Why don’t you focus on your answers to the questions rather than the pictures? Girls love stuff like that. You’re smart, you’re a good writer.”

“Babe, they’re not gonna care about his answers if the first picture they see is of an out of focus guitar taken on an iPhone 4S,” Alycia cocks her head at Jeff, “Like, at least be honest with him.”

“I know you’re squinting in that picture from Jeff’s wedding but maybe you can put that one first,” Nancy points to the screen and then scrolls down a little. It lands on a photo of Jeff and Eddie, both sweating from the night's activities. His dress shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, silver chains and tattoos on full display, tie tied around Jeff’s forehead like a makeshift Rambo.

“Yeah, you look really good in it,” Robin agrees.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tati shuffles into the kitchen, “I got in touch with the photographer from the show two weeks ago at Wraith Bar and he’s sending me some pictures.”

“You can use the six pictures you’re tagged in from the last three years,” Tatianna scolds, “You look like a bum in them.”

The group frowns and tosses glances at each other, it’s true. The more recent pictures they had of Eddie were far and few between. He was either blinking or off to the side, blurry or ducking out of frame. Every picture where he looks like himself was either from a show or had Chrissy in it, and he deleted all of those three years ago.

“Stop, you look so fine in these,” Tatianna squeals, “The girls are gonna love you.” Everyone but Eddie huddles around Tatianna to scroll through the pictures. Some of him mid shred with sweat pouring down his chest. Some of him screaming into the mic, hair wild and wet around his face. There was one, that he begrudgingly really liked, where his head leaned back into the light with a winning Munson smile. It was when he heard the opening drums to cover ‘The Immigrant Song’ as a gag – but not really a gag ‘cause he loves that song. It gets everyone at the bar pretty excited – even if they only know the song from School of Rock.

Eventually, Eddie isn’t even holding his phone, it’s being passed between Tati, Steve, and Robin while he dictates his answers to stupid questions. By the time his profile is finished, his head is hidden in his mass of curls, resting his forehead on his forearms at the table.

“Are we done now?” he asks into the space between his face and the woodgrain. Despite the winter air flowing through the kitchen window, he’s overheated with embarrassment. There are suddenly too many people around, too much talking, too much giggling at his expense. He tilts his head back up and takes a full breath through his nose and out through his mouth – “Oh shit! You matched with someone!” “How? I didn’t even look at anyone yet,” Eddie’s brows furrow while his head slowly comes to center. “Don’t worry about it, dingus,” Robin chides, “Just talk to her.” Eddie takes the phone and looks at her profile. Rachel, 27, Vet tech. She’s pretty, soft eyes, great smile. He swallows thickly before he goes to his ‘Matches’ and types three letters that felt like they took ten years to write: Hey.

The chats start fast and die faster, some flirty banter here and there before he’s too nervous or quickly bored. His heart squeezes every time he gets a notification, a buzz in his pocket, a reminder of a message. Some girls don’t want a relationship and that’s fine, that’s just not what he’s looking for. Some girls ask the big questions first and he can’t answer right away. Some girls just aren’t his type and he isn’t theirs either.

The first date he goes on ends with her excusing herself to the bathroom before they even get to order dinner. She doesn’t come back — he’s not even sure what he did. It started off fine, she was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Fun and easy conversation, a voice that sounded like powder puffs and sugar scented perfume. If he blurred his vision a little, she could’ve been Chris. But she wasn’t Chris.

Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got the vibe that he was preoccupied with her looking like his ex.

Maybe it was because he said, ‘You remind me so much of my ex-wife,’ before they got to order dinner.

His second date wasn’t much better. He was proud of himself for not going for another Chrissy look alike, but it was clear that this new girl was on a hunt for a husband.

“So are you planning on getting the tattoos removed?” she had asked, pursing her red lips. He was surprised at how well her lipstick stayed on after eating a pasta dish. Whenever he wears makeup for a show, it smudges before the lights come up.

“Uh, no why?” he asked.

“Just y’know, thinking ahead — family photos and whatever,” she shrugged. His mouth had never run so dry in his life. The chicken alfredo turned in his stomach.

The third ended up being a quickie in the bar bathroom only for her to leave right after and unmatch him without as much as a ‘Thanks for a good night!’ He at least wanted to be a gentleman about it.

The fourth fizzled out and neither of them felt the connection.

The fifth felt weird because they had talked so much on the app that they didn’t have anything left to talk about when they went out for drinks.

A month had gone by and all he had to show for it was five bad dates and dozens of unanswered chats. Eddie was found sitting in his bed in the dark, only the light on his phone keeping him illuminated while he thumbs through Instagram. Another app that he has for no reason, he never posts, he never shares anything. He just scrolls.

He wonders if Chrissy’s on Hinge. Eddie’s stomach lurches at the thought of coming across her profile. All blonde and blue eyes, all sweet and spunky, all the right answers to her curated questions. Photos of her in the Maldives, in her friend’s weddings, of her in Chicago after she moved. His heart hammers, sweat collects on his bare chest, heating up the chain lying flat against it until it sticks. He quickly swipes out of Instagram to his home screen, a photo of Robin and Steve flipping him off from the stage after a Corroded Show during load out. He holds his thumb on the app until all the apps shake, thumb hovering over the ‘x’ on the corner to delete the Hinge for good.

What’s another three years of being single?

“Ed?” he hears Tati on the other side of the door, her soft knock following her voice, “I got Indian and I’m not gonna eat it all. Gare doesn’t want it, you want it?”

“Yeah, sure,” he hums. She opens the door and sighs at the darkness. He squints as the light pools in from the hallway and sees her lean her shoulder against the door frame.

“Are you in here sulking?” she asks, one brow raising.

“Yeah, Tat, I’m in here sulking,” he groans, laying flat on his mattress, “I like to sulk. Let me sulk.”

“Don’t sulk,” she puts on a pout and flicks his light on, leaving the containers of rice and chicken saag. He groans when the light stings his eyes, tossing a forearm over his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice falling into kindergarten teacher territory. She never realized her profession would come so handy living with two grown men, “Why’re you being such a baby in here?”

“I think I’m gonna delete the app,” he murmurs, still hiding under the protection of his tattooed arm. The pressure feels good on his face, releasing the tension starting to brew behind his eyes. He hadn’t eaten since his lunch period at work, the hunger was starting to catch up to him.

“Don’t delete it,” she shakes her head, crawling onto the end of his bed. She takes her twists out of her jumbo claw clip and readjusts to pull them all back away from her face. Tati eases his phone out of his hand and slides her glasses on, flinging his dead arm off his face to use his Face ID. He whines, face scrunching is disapproval.

“I told you to stop doing that,” Eddie complains, sitting up against his pillows before crawling out of bed to get the food waiting on his dresser, “Do you have any naan or…?”

“Do I look like a food bank, Munson? Damn,” she tilts her head and he raises his brows in a silent ‘Well, do you?’

She sighs deeply, “Yes, I have extra naan but you can only have it if you don’t delete the app and eat with us in the living room.”

“Those are two totally different asks, Tati,” Eddie huffs.

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs before starting to laugh, “Actually, I totally do.”

The phone buzzes in her hand and Tatianna’s grin only widens when she sees the notification, “You have a new like.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, face laced with disappointment and frustration, “It’s gonna be another dud. Why bother if there’s no point? Like, this can’t actually be how people meet each other —“

Tatianna opens her mouth to protest but Eddie interrupts his own thought before she can speak, “You and Gareth are the anomaly.”

“What if the sixth time’s a charm? She looks really cute,” She smiles, teeth bright against her smile, cheekbones glistening where her moisturized skin hits the light.

He rolls his neck and sighs while Tatianna continues to encourage him, “Just try. You owe yourself that. Chrissy wouldn’t—.”

“Fuck Chrissy, Tat,” Eddie’s voice raises slightly, suddenly defensive. His chest burns at the sound of her name, heat rising up through his neck to his face, “I don’t really give a fuck what Chrissy would and wouldn’t want. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have to be on these stupid fucking apps.”

“Whew, tell me how you really feel Ed,” she says while she stands up off the bed to walk towards him.

“Look, I get you’re still mad about how things went down with Chris. I know you’re still hurting, but you’re denying yourself a chance to start over — just shoot this girl a message. She seems cool,” Tati speaks so gently to him that he soothes instantly. She offers his phone, still open on the new profile — he’s hesitant at first but he takes it from her to look at the screen.

There you are. You are cute. Your profile is simple: your name, age thirty, your opening tagline ‘idk i’m just out here i guess’. He lets a puff of air out of his nose at the sentiment — ‘Same,’ he thinks.

“Fine,” he says finally, “I’ll look through her stuff and I’ll message her. Are you happy?”

“Thrilled,” she smiles, “So thrilled that I’ll even let you have the extra samosa.”

He follows her out of the room with his phone and food in hand, looking at her fondly when she passes him a tinfoil covered piece of naan in the kitchen, “You’re my best fucking friend, dude.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” Gareth pouts from the kitchen table, D&D notes littered in front of him.

Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head while he considers, “You’re alright I guess.”

When the food is done and he’s gotten a proper look at your profile he decides to bite the bullet — fingers shaking while he matches back with you. He doesn’t start with ‘hey’ this time because Robin and Steve said that was boring, so he tries something new:

wild that you’re just ‘out here’, me too.

…

lol, twin behavior. how’s your night?

Eddie’s heart hammers at the response. He’s surprised at the reaction, he hadn’t had that with any of his other chats, normally expecting them to die off after the first ‘Hey, how are you?’ pleasantry. But maybe this could be different, maybe this could be fun.

scored some indian food from one of my roommates so it’s one of my better nights.

ooh, i’m so jealous. i have buyers remorse from some baked ziti i ordered. should’ve just made it.

what did you get?

chicken saag, still jealous?

i’m more of a saag paneer girl but consider me over here seething.

Eddie grins into the phone, cheeks hot while he thinks about what to say back. He skims over your profile again, eyes stilling at a photo of you laughing on what looks like a cruise deck. The sun hits you like a golden streak across your eyes. The caption reads ‘the last time i felt a single shred of genuine happiness’, he huffs an airy giggle before going back to the chat.

you’re funny, did you know that?

um ya, i’m the funniest person i know, actually. 🥰

that's crazy cause i’m the funniest person i know. and since now i know you, it’s looking like we gotta battle for who the funniest is.

Jesus fucking Christ Munson, why can’t you just be normal? Why can you just say ‘lol’ and call it a night? He frets. His leg bounces while he waits for your reply, food rolling in his stomach. The cool metal of his rings is welcomed on his warm cheeks while he leans against his hand on the arm of the couch. The few minutes he waits for the buzz of his phone feel like eternities. But there you are to save him from his embarrassment:

lmao okay. where did you wanna battle?

there’s a bar in the city that i think could host. you around tomornight?

tommorow night* sorry, fuck, i was trying so hard to be smooth with it.

TOMORROW***** FUCK. LET ME LOG OFF FOR ETERNITY REAL QUICK.

yiiiiikes! embarrassing. but this proves you actually might be funnier than me. i’m not a sore loser so i’ll go on a date with you if that’s what you’re asking.

do you drink? it doesn’t have to be a bar.

i do! where did you have in mind?

there’s a spot called little spoon saloon in the city if you’re familiar. sorta cozy.

oh yeah sounds great for a battle 🙄

but yeah i know it, that’s not too far from my place. maybe we’ve seen each other before and never known it. two ships passing in the night~*

does seven work for you? i know it’s a monday, so we can do earlier if you gotta be up early or something.

sevens fine :)

okay :)

see ya tomorrow! Eddie bites his lower lip, breathing steadily through his nose while he sends over his number. Anything to get out of looking at the app for at least another day, anything to spare him from potentially running into Chrissy’s profile despite her being in a different state. It was getting close to the holidays, she could be around at any moment.

Before he can spiral, his phone buzzes again – this time a text from an unknown number. His grin widens, too caught up in the excitement bubbling in his chest to feel Tatianna’s stare from the recliner. hi, it's me. jsyk if you don't reach out by like, two tomorrow -- i'm considering it a cancellation and i do have a 50% cancellation fee. sorry!

50%? stop selling yourself so short, kid. but don’t worry, i won’t cancel. no? you’re not scared to battle? i’m never scared of a battle. :) (A lie.) see you tomorrow.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tatianna smiles, cheeks tight from being unable to hide her excitement. “Are you talking to a girrrrrl?” Gareth teases. Eddie let’s out a ‘tssss’ while he stands up and stretches, quirking a brow at his best friend. “Is it a girl? You takin’ her out?” he asks again. “Yeah G, it’s your mom,” he shrugs, “Night y’all.” “Ed,” Tati whines, “Come on.” Pink floats across his cheeks, itching his nose to hide his goofy smile behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a girl. And yeah, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he groans. Tatianna squeals, shimmying with giddiness while the recliner rocks with her. Eddie’s too caught up in hiding his face, “Ugh, she’s cuuuute, Tati, what am I supposed to do?”

“Show her what she’s been missing,” Tati shrugs, “Everyone needs an Eddie.”

Last night, Eddie fell asleep caught in a memory that became a dream. He’s eight years old at the YMCA, Wayne sitting in the stands watching him – this is maybe two weeks after his dad dropped him off before he got sent to prison. Wayne wanted to make sure his schedule stayed the same as it could, so Saturday swim lessons it was – today was diving off the block. Eddie had been dreading this lesson for a month, knowing that level 2.5 meant you had to at least try. In level two, they had you stand on the block just to get used to it. He could barely breathe for the ten seconds it was up there, tears stinging his eyes while his teacher encouraged him to come closer to the edge. Three of his classmates had already asked if they were allowed to jump off. It looked fun but it was just so high up. What if it hurts? What if he landed the wrong way? He was up soon, standing behind the block with the rest of the kids, shivering from being out of the water. He could dive off the edge of the pool just fine – in fact, his teacher said he was a great diver, especially for an eight year old. So it should be no problem to dive off the block, he just had to do the same thing he always does. Just higher.

Gareth, before Gareth was his best friend, climbs up the block and puts his feet at the edge of the white plastic and metal. His teacher, Miss Tiffany, tells him to put his arms up and bend his knees and to dive at the whistle. The whistle blows and Gareth leaps – but he doesn’t dive smoothly into the water.

“BELLY FLOP!” Jason Carver yells from the edge of the pool where all the kids who already dove sat. They start teasing him relentlessly, Miss Tiffany helping him out of the water to inspect his red belly. Tears well up in Gareth’s eyes, his mom leaning over the bannister from the seating area. “Are you okay, baby?” she asks. Gareth burns red with embarrassment, only encouraging the cackling kids to get crueler.

Miss Tiffany puffs her whistle three times, “If you tease again, you’re not allowed to go to free swim. Do you understand me?”

The group quiets, slowly kicking their feet in the water. “Alright Eddie, you’re up next!”

He gulps, climbing up on the block slowly before standing to full height with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like his Uncle Wayne taught him to do when he was feeling nervous. When Eddie’s eyes opened, a chill ran through his chest – for some reason the block seemed higher than ever.

“Ready Freddie?” Miss Tiffany asked, treading water in her red bathing suit. She grinned up at him, knowing that the phrase always made him giggle – but not today.

“Arms up, knees bent,” she continues. Ed looks down at the water and the room spins, he can hear Jason and the class giggling. Hear the splashes from the kicks of their feet.

The whistle blows. He doesn’t move. The whistle blows, again. He puts his arms down. “You okay, Eddie? You can do it! You’re a great diver!” she cheers.

Eddie chews on his lower lip, thinking about the smack of the water when it hit Gareth’s stomach. The laughter. The teasing. The potential of the pain. The whistle blows again. Eddie climbs down off the block, sniffling when he makes it back to the pool deck, “I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.”

“C’mon Ed, I know you can do it! Do you want me to save you for last?” she asks, her smile still bright and encouraging. Eddie sniffles again, eyes burning with tears while Jason and his friends start to tease him, too. “Swimming sucks,” he bites, stomping towards the boys room, grabbing his ratty towel off one of the benches on the way in. He’s only in the locker room for a few minutes before he hears the door open and Wayne’s apologetic voice talking to Miss Tiffany from the deck floor.

“He’s just goin’ through a lot right now,” Wayne says, his gruff voice rattling off the metal of the room.

“Eddie?” Tiffany’s voice calls.

“Come out here, son,” Wayne calls, “Y’know, if your decent.”

Eddie sniffles back his tears again, shuffling over to the door while Miss Tiffany waits with his Uncle.

“Do you maybe wanna stay a little late today and we can practice diving off the block when class is over?” she offers, “I know it can be scary to do it in front of your classmates, but I want you to pass to level three!”

“No thanks Miss Tiffany,” he mumbles to the tiles on the floor.

“That’s okay Eddie, maybe we can try again next week. How’s that sound? I know you can do it,” she says softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs before turning on his heel and moping back into the locker room. Wayne was waiting by the check in desk when Eddie emerged after changing, his ratty towel slung off his shoulder.

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, can we just go home?”

“Sure kid, was gonna stop and get us some lunch if you wanted,” Wayne’s eyes crinkle with his smile, “Wanna go to McDonalds?”

Eddie returns the smile half heartedly, “Yeah.”

They walk to Wayne’s pick-up hand in hand, despite some parents thinking he’s ‘too old’ to be doing that. He needed the support, and his uncle was never one to make him feel like he didn’t have it.

“So d’you wanna try again next week? Your starting form was great, buddy,” Wayne asks while Eddie puts his seatbelt on. Eddie considers it. Getting to the edge of the block and making Jason Carver eat his own words. Making him look like a loser for a change.

But the words ring in his ear ‘BELLY FLOP!’ The relentless teasing if he didn’t do it this week and then messed up next week. He’d be a baby and a joke.

“I don’t wanna do swimming anymore, Uncle Wayne,” he huffs.

“You sure?” his uncle frowns, putting the car into gear, “You’re really good, Ed. Y’could be on the swim team.”

“I don’t wanna come back. I quit,” he repeats. He crosses his arms while they pull out of the parking lot, watching the rest of the kids pool out of the doors with smiles on.

Eddie wakes up to his alarm blaring, back in his 32 year old body. He swears that the air of his bedroom smells like chlorine.

Eddie made sure to text you at 1:59 PM like an asshole.

still on for tonight? :)

so close to having to pay my cancellation fee.

but yes, still on for tonight :)

sorry, work’s been wild today. would’ve texted you sooner!

you’re off the hook…

for now. 😡

He likes your little attitude, he decides. That little hint of sass in your messages keeps him on his toes and it’s not lost on him that this is probably how you flirt. He wonders, selfishly, how easy you are to fluster. You both exchange a few back and forths before he’s finishing up work for the day and heading to Wheeler’s for a campaign chat.

The texts completely drop off while he gets ready to see you. He takes an extra long time in the shower, using the tiniest squeeze of Tati’s curl cream when he comes out because it makes his hair look good. He scrubs his face raw before shaving, following up with the skin care routine he kept up with, even though Chrissy curated it for him.

Once dressed, he stepped quietly out to the living room to grab his jacket in the closet and pull out his boots.

“You used my curl cream, I see,” Tatianna crosses her arms. He blushes.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanna look good,” he puts on a faux pout, eyes rounding while he slides the leather over arms.

“You look really good,” she smiles, “It’s gonna be great.”

Eddie shoves his socked feet in his Docs, worn in from years of wear, and looks up at her, “I’m kind of excited.”

“You should be! I don’t know, I just have a really good feeling about this one,” she smirks, “Text me at some point, let me know how it goes.”

“It’s a better indicator if he doesn’t text you, Tati,” Gareth says, coming up behind her, “You look sharp, dude.”

“Sharp?” Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’re you? Eighty?”

Tatianna clicks on her phone to look at the time, “Can you get the fuck outta here? You’re gonna be late!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he laughs, arms up while he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, “Wish me luck, bye!”

Eddie felt sick. Suddenly feeling like he was standing at the edge of the pool in ‘98.

When he got his keys in the ignition of his Honda Civic, a text came through immediately. He swallowed tightly, in some way expecting it to be you. In some way, expecting you to be canceling on him.

Instead, it was Tatianna in the big group chat:

here, we made a playlist for you

Eddie clicks on the Spotify link and laughs. First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182

And so on. The music automatically connects, the opening guitar ripping through his speakers. Eddie quickly types up a response on his phone before pulling out into the street.

very creative, edwards.

someone in this house has to be. ‘In the car, I just can't wait, to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?’ He rolls his eyes as Mark and Tom serenade him in the car, laughing at the lyrics. It’d been a while since he’d listened to this album, let alone this song. While he won’t admit it to Gareth or his girlfriend, it was exactly what he needed before he got to the bar.

‘Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.’ “Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over,” he sings along, fingers tapping on his steering wheel while he waits at a red light. He’s on the fourth replay of the song by the time he pulls up. The ignition cuts off the lyrics before the chorus, he takes a big breath before opening the door. Just a couple minutes past seven, but he told you he was running a little late, so you wouldn’t be mad. His phone buzzes to Robin, Steve, and Jeff reacting to the playlist Tati sent. Alicia, Jeff, and Nancy sent him sweet good luck messages. Robin and Steve sent them a picture from a bar they were at, flipping him off. ‘Break a leg, dingus,’ came in her follow up voice memo. Eddie considers making this new picture his phone background.

He swallows hard when he gets to the door, his bottom lip getting pulled between his teeth in apprehension. He nods to himself, “You got this, Munson.” Another deep breath, he’s still ten, he’s still afraid to dive off the diving block. What if it hurts? What if he belly flops?

‘What if you don’t? What if you dive this time?’ He thinks to himself. He opens the door to the bar, his ten year old self puts one foot on the diving block. The chatter of a few conversations at once is disorienting, so is the low light of the bar in comparison to the neon outside. The man at the entrance asks for his ID and he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet as if it’s not obvious he’s been old enough to drink for eleven years. “Here, man,” he says, somehow nervous he’ll get caught with a fake like he’s nineteen again. The security’s light flashes over his birthdate and he passes it back with a short and gruff thank you. Eddie takes a few steps before checking his phone to remind him what you said you’d be wearing.

in a red cut off sweatshirt, jeans that look like dickies – hard to miss! white airforces! i’m here, looking for you if you can’t spot me just approach the most off putting girl at the bar, it’s probably me :)

He smiles into the light of his phone. You’re are funny. His phone lights up again, another text bubble added to your previous one. Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest when he looks at it, knowing you’re really only moments away. got you a guinness cause that’s what you said you liked on your profile. it looks like battery acid tbh. there’s a couple seats by the end of the bar, i’ll grab them. He looks up from his phone finally to see a blur of red start maneuvering over to the end of the bar. That’s you. Oh shit, that’s you. Oh shit, you’re – fuck. You have a fat fucking ass in those jeans. He swallows again, shaking the horny thoughts out of his head through the tendrils of his hair. Another deep breath through the nose, out of the water to the diving block just to dive again. He walks the length of the bar and hears his name, your voice in real life – not through a voice note or on your profile. “Ed?”

Eddie catches your eye and his heart sinks and leaps so quickly he thinks he’s going into cardiac arrest. You’re real pretty, even more so when you grin at him from a few feet away. You wave him over and he does his best to walk confidently towards you, taking his jacket off while he does. He doesn’t know it, but the other girls at the bar are looking. He’s all broad shoulders and dark tattoos, two silver chains and understated rings. Full lips and doe eyes. Tatianna never told a lie, he was unmistakably handsome – he just didn’t know what to do with it. You toss your hair when you speak to the bartender from the end of the bar with a bright smile. The man puts two drinks in front of you and you leave cash in their wake. Eddie winces when he sees you pay, but tries to ignore the sting. In a way, it feels like he’s already losing – like he’s playing Sims with Robin and he’s not on track to get a gold reward on date night. You’re hot and you know it, but he can tell it’s like you just found out. Your eyes are flirty no matter what you’re looking at, you’re full bodied and it’s like you know it’s making him salivate. Eddie can’t help but be nervous when he takes a seat next to you, fingers immediately drumming on the bar top in front of him. “Guinness for you,” you say, sliding the pint glass in front of him. “Thanks,” he smiles, “You didn’t have to do that. I asked you out, you’re not supposed to be paying for me.”

“I know, but – why don’t you get the next one and we’ll call it even?” you offer. He nods while he takes a sip, eyeing the lighter orangey liquid in your glass. “Did you get a cider?” he teases.

“It’s a grapefruit beer, thank you,” your brows furrow at him while you take a sip. You have a good face, part of him wants to say that but it seems like a weird compliment. ‘Nice face.’ Like, what does that even mean? His tongue feels heavy, he can feel the sweat building under his curly bangs. “Weaksauce,” he laughs, scrunching his nose, “Grapefruit beer? Not for me, toots.”

“Yeah, because you drink battery acid!” you tease back, “You’re a stout snob, huh?”

“Nah, just never heard of grapefruit beer. I always drink Guinness – or like, Miller light. Never really stray,” he shrugs.

“You wanna try mine?” you ask, sliding the glass to him.

“You sure?” he watches you nod and brings the beer to his lips. It’s tart, a little bubbly, hitting his tongue on the off beat from the stout before. It settles and then it’s sweet, he wonders if you’re the same. Eddie smacks his lips, “I don’t hate it.”

“That’s such a stout snob thing for you to say,” you pull a face, bringing your drink back to sit in front of you. “I’d offer you a sip of mine but I know you don’t like it,” he smiles, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of your dessert beer.” “Fuck off,” you shake your head and smile, taking another sip of your drink. The Guinness in his hand makes him feel less nervous, but not all the way – toeing the line of the end of the diving block but not scared to look down into the water. He can tell you’re nervous too by the way you pick at a hangnail on your thumb absentmindedly, the way you cross and uncross your legs. Eddie’s eyes linger for a moment at the way they spill over each other, squishing flat on the seat of the stool when you keep them uncrossed. He tries to discreetly follow the line of your thighs to your hips, up to your waist before getting ahead of himself and pulling his eyes away.

“How was your day?” you ask. Not the question he was expecting. “My day?” he asks, brows raised while he tries to recollect anything before getting ready to see you. “Uh, my day was good. Yours?” You fucking dumbass, you couldn’t just spare one detail? She’s gonna think you’re an asshole. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. Your smile fades a little and he feels a panicked chill rush in his chest. “S-sorry, I should’ve elaborated. I sound like such a dick, sorry,” Eddie feels the heat creeping up on his cheeks, a clamminess starting up at his hairline, “I um, I went to work. Came home, went to a friend’s house for a minute and we talked about a campaign we’re putting together next weekend. I had some dinner, and then I started getting ready to see you and um – uh, now I’m here.” “Campaign? Are you a politician or somethin’?” you quirk a brow while you look him over. He feels insecure under your gaze, he hopes you like his tattoos.

“No, no, it’s for Dungeons and Dragons.” Saying it outloud makes him feel like a loser, even though you don’t react like you think so.

“Cool,” you smile.

“Do you like, even know what that is?” Defensive already, waiting for you to make fun of him. Waiting for this to end up another mistake. Waiting to belly flop.

“Yeah, I know what it is,” you answer quietly again, this time your shoulders, “Have some friends that play.”

“Oh, cool. Cool,” Eddie nods, chest tightening, toying with his rings while you reach for your drink, “Um, I’m — yeah, sorry if that came off like, dickish. I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you shake your head when you say it, almost like it’s rehearsed. Like you’re always ‘okay’-ing something.

“Sometimes people think it’s weird when I tell them, I dunno,” he shrugs, still looking down at his rings, “If I’m being honest I haven’t been so great at this whole dating thing.”

You smile again and he looks up in time to see it, his breath hitches. You’re very pretty.

“If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to play Magic the Gathering twice to impress a boy. Two different ones,” you grimace, scrunching your nose, “Gross right?”

“Oof, that’s rough,” he jokes, “Magic the Gathering? That’s like, way worse than D&D.”

“Well the difference between you and me, is that I don’t still play,” you bite back, cocking your head while you take another drink. “Didn’t impress those boys after all, huh?” he raises a brow and your mouth falls open in faux offense.

“You’re so mean,” you gasp.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Should’ve put that in my profile.”

“Oh, so you are mean?” you grin.

“The meanest,” he grins back, teeth straight and shiny. Full lips pulled tight against them, “How was your day?” “I worked,” you shrug, “Not as exciting.”

“What do you do?” he asks, turning towards you on the stool, leaning one arm on the bar. He relaxes into the seat, legs spreading wide while his free hand runs nervously over his thigh.

“I’m a personal assistant to a jewelry maker,” you let out a half chuckle through your nose, “It sounds fake when I say it out loud. But basically, I just keep her schedule and run errands and keep her shit in order. She’s an older woman and she’s not the most tech savvy in the world — great at what she does though, really eccentric but I feel like you gotta be when you work in the arts like that.”

“That’s cool,” he says softly, watching you talk, “What kind of jewelry does she make?”

“Oh you’ll love this, since you like D&D and stuff,” you start, your excitement is infectious, his heart thrums, “She makes fine jewelry for the most part, but also makes anodized chain mail jewelry and wearable pieces for theater and ren fairs on the side. I told you, eccentric.”

“Oh, so she’s a little alchemist, huh?” he smirks.

“Kinda, yeah,” you shrug, heat hitting your cheeks while he keeps his gaze on you, “It’s cool to watch the first few times, and then you get bored.”

“I’m sure it’s the same for people who watch my band,” he laughs. You shake your head, a curve pulling from the corners of your lips while you finish your beer.

“Alchemist,” you repeat with a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What do you do for work?” he notices you fully turn when you ask, your knees toward him. He remembers Steve telling him once that it was always a good sign when they do that. Like Steve knows anything about body language and dating these days, he’s been platonically attached to Robin for years. His little guard dog.

“I’m a teacher,” he replies, knocking back the remainder of the Guinness in his glass.

“Hm,” you hum, looking him over suspiciously, “That’s surprising.”

“I work at a performing arts school,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s 2023, I’m allowed to have tattoos.” “What do you teach?” you squint when you look him over a second time, “Actually, let me guess – drama?”

“Music theory,” he corrects.

“Ooh, big brain,” you joke, “That’s cool.”

“Big brain? I don’t know about that, I just like music,” he shrugs, “It makes sense to me.” “When I was in high school everyone always talked about how hard music theory was – like, all the band kids,” you explain, there’s a sparkle starting to glint in your eye when you talk to him. “You were hanging out with the band kids?” he tosses a sarcastic knowing look before taking his glass in his hands, “And I’m a nerd? I dunno girl, it’s not looking good for you here...” “Even worse, I was dating one,” you grimace back. “Fuuuuck, you were really fighting for your life in 2009 huh?” Eddie laughs low, lower lip tucking in between his teeth to run his tongue over it.

“2007, 2008 all the way to like, 2016,” you hide your face in one hand and he wishes you wouldn’t.

“Damn, that’s a long time,” he observes, “You didn’t marry that guy?”

You lift your head back up, and shake your head, “It was on and off for a long time, he’s not a fan favorite. It’s uh – it’s why I normally don’t date musicians. I almost didn’t match with you ‘cause of your first picture.”

Fucking Tatianna.

“Eek, sorry,” Eddie puts his hands up, “Should I go?” “Do you play bass?” you wince.

“I play a lot of instruments,” he chuckles, “I can play the bass. But I’m not like…a bass player, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” you breathe out a sigh of relief, “Made that mistake more than once.” “What’s your favorite instrument that you play?” you ask, it’s almost girlish. He ponders it while you cross your legs, the toe of your shoe barely brushing the back of his calf but he knows it's there. You rest your chin on your fist while you watch him think about it. His brown eyes glint in the reflection of the light overhead, plush lips parted while he runs his hands over his stubble. “I think I’d have to say…electric guitar? I’ve been playing that the longest,” he hopes you think that’s cool. “Is it the same one that’s in your pictures?”

“The Warlock?” he asks with a grin, “Yeah, that’s my girl. Best relationship of my life, prob’ly the only lady who talks more than me.”

“It’s really nice. I like the color.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes darting to your knees where they sit between his, “Um, can I get you another drink? Do you want a beer or…?”

“If I get a real drink will you stop making fun of my beer?”

“I promise.” He slides off the stool, sad to see your close proximity to him fade away when he stands up.

“They have food here, right? I’m sort of hungry, if that’s okay,” your voice gets sheepish when you ask.

“Yeah, that’s okay. Did you eat dinner?” The words fall out of him too fondly.

“I had like, a huge spinach salad,” you explain, “Might not have been enough.”

Something tells him to press further before he buys you more liquor, lest this date go to the wayside too quickly, “Did you eat lunch?”

“I worked through lunch.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had a smoothie,” you confess.

“Okay, so before I get you a drink, why don’t I get you some chicken fingers or something?” he insists. You’re shy in your smile back to him, nodding along at his advice. Yes, you should eat more before you keep drinking with him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s just trying to get you tipsy, he’s never been that kind of guy – even when he’d bring home girls from the bar. (They’d at least be the same level of totally obliterated as he was.)

He beams back at you when you nod, “Atta girl.”

He doesn’t notice when your thighs clench.

The last chicken finger is eaten, the last fry of the basket he got for you to split crunched through. The conversation had lulled, not because you weren’t interesting – the nerves were getting to him, creeping up like vines along his chest. The look over the diving block at the water, it’s slow waves teasing him to jump.

“So um,” you began, swallowing your final fry and wiping your hands on a napkin, “Since you’re a teacher, how was school today?”

Eddie’s so used to this question that his response doesn’t change, always the same quote from the same movie. Forgetting he doesn’t know you like that, his mouth moves quicker than his desire to play things off cool.

“The worst day of my life, what do you think? Gosh!” Eddie sounds more like John Heder in 2004 than John Heder does now – but when he hears himself say it, he’s immediately embarrassed. Eddie opens his mouth to apologize, nervous you won’t understand but instead – you laugh. And what a sound that is for him to hear.

“Oh, shit. I haven’t watched Napoleon Dynamite in years. Like, not since grade school.” Eddie laughs with you, “Sorry, sorry, that’s like my go-to reaction at home when my roommates ask me that. I should’ve said something more normal like, ‘It was fine. The kids can’t stop trying to take TikTok fancams of me.”

“Roommates? Fancams? You’re so hip, tell me more,” you enthuse. He puts a finger up to stop you at first, locking eyes with the bartender so he can finally order another round of drinks.

“What kind of real drink do you want?” he asks.

“Just a marg on the rocks, salt,” you shrug.

“Psh, I said a real drink,” Eddie teases with a roll of the eyes, but they soften when you go to argue back, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

His toes inch towards the middle of the diving block.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he flirts. Eddie can see the heat hit your cheeks, the creep of a smile slowly curving upwards, you’re embarrassed. Nervous like he is. Maybe this is going just fine.

When the drinks arrive he slides the margarita towards you and sips his own Jack and Coke slowly through the tiny bar straw.

“Okay, so. I have two roommates. Gareth, who’s been my best friend since I was nine; and Tatianna who has been my best friend since I was twenty-nine,” he explains.

“So why aren’t you dating Tatianna?” you challenge. You miss the straw when you reach for it with your mouth, it slides over to the other side of the cup. You try again and miss, cheeks burning while Eddie looks at you continue to fuck up. His eyes glint mischievously while you hold in your frustrated laughter, “Stop looking at me.”

“It’s fine, I’ll wait while you get your life figured out over there,” he jokes, checking ‘the time’ on his wrist, “Shouldn’t be too long until you finally get it.”

“You’re so annoying,” you grit out playfully while you capture the straw between your teeth, “Should’ve put that on your profile, too.”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not dating Tatianna because Gare’s going to propose to her when they go on vacation in a few weeks.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, “Probably not a good idea to date your best friend’s almost wife.”

“Yeah, definitely not well advised,” he shakes his head, pulling his hair up off of his neck for a minute before dropping it down, “Plus, her last name is Edwards and I dunno…don’t think I could live with myself if I was ‘Eddie Edwards’.”

You laugh again and he hoped you would. It’s a goofy laugh, you don’t try to sound cute when you do it. He knows you must be a loud laugher, if your small ones are any preview to what you could really do. You don’t sound like Chrissy. Her laugh was dainty, feathery. Like how they teach you to giggle in an etiquette class – all soft edges, all smooth lines.

“You wanna take the girl’s last name?” you raise your brows, “Very forward thinking. Progressive.”

“I don’t know, something about it’s kinda hot right?” he asks cock of his head, “Plus, my dad sucks so I don’t want to keep repping him by having his last name.”

“Oh wow, my dad sucks, too,” you reply cheerily, “We have so much in common!”

“What was it you said before? ‘Twin behavior’?”

“Twin behavior, yes!” your hands meet both of his knees where he sits across from you, your tone is light and earnest, “You get me.”

Eddie takes in a hitch of breath, desperate to keep his cool when he feels your hands on him. It’s not even sexy but he could shoot straight to the moon if you asked him to. You use his knees as leverage to hop down from your stool, grabbing your drink before nudging him with your hip.

“If we’re still battling though, there’s an air hockey table in the back room if you wanna play,” you offer.

“Are you any good?” he wonders, hopping off the stool to follow you to the back.

“I’m amazing,” you grin, “Actually won seventeen first place trophies in the intergalactic air hockey competition – of course I’m fucking bad at it, that’s why it’s fun to play.”

Eddie laughs this time, it’s gruff and nicotine soaked. You’re already winning the battle for funniest person – you’re sharp with him and he’s starting to like it. He runs his hand over the side of the air hockey table in the empty back room, more and more pleased that he put this date together on a Monday. He slides a dollar into the machine so it whirs to life, the neon lights flicking on with a stutter.

“This reminds me of birthday parties when I was a kid,” you muse to yourself, reaching for the hockey disc trapped in your goal, “Can you help me?”

He nods, hand grazing your back to get you out of the way – you’re warm to the touch. If he was a braver man he would’ve pulled you into him but he’s not, instead squatting down to reach further into the goal where your game piece was.

“Hm,” he murmurs, reaching further back and barely touching the top of it, “It’s in here, it’s just back there. I can get it, just –” he sucks his teeth like he did the night before, getting to his knees to try. Music plays over head, stuff the new crop of bar goers would consider oldies. You smile at the opening ‘Damn, shawty snappin’...’ of T-Pain’s ‘Buy U A Drank’, but even more surprised when you hear Eddie sing along softly to himself.

“Snap ya fingers, do yuh step, you can do it all by yourself. Babygirl, what’s your name?” “Not you knowing the lyrics,” you laugh.

“I was in highschool in 2007 of course, I know the lyrics,” he huffs, standing up, “I think it’s a bust for air hockey.”

“That’s fine,” you shrug, “We tried.”

“I know the club, close at three,” he lip syncs to himself before, turning his attention to you, “What’s the chances of you rollin’ with me?”

You back and forth to each other in time with the lyrics before settling back down in your spot at bar.

“You even know the Yung Joc part? Damn,” you laugh again, he loves it.

“Why’re you so surprised? Is it the tattoos?” he asks.

“Well yeah, you definitely give off a ‘loved Avenged Sevenfold’ in high school vibe,” you scooch your stool closer to his, your knees slotting between his open ones like a perfect puzzle. It’s not enough though, and he’s not sure if it’s himself or the Jack and Coke that encourages him, but he reaches for one of the legs of your stool to pull you closer.

“Hey,” he says, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Hey,” you respond. You catch his eyes flick briefly to your lips before they meet yours again. You can see the light smatter of freckles over his nose, long faded from the summer.

“You’re right, I was really into Avenged Sevenfold when I was in highschool.”

“I figured. I was into that whole scene thing, back then. All those singers that are mad at their dad’s and like, in retrospect, all hate women I guess,” you realize it as you speak.

“I probably would’ve thought you were cute,” he guesses.

“No, you would’ve called me a poser,” you correct, “Don’t lie.”

He hesitates before nodding, “No, no, you’re right I definitely would’ve called you a poser. Did you like Fall Out Boy and all of that shit?”

“Don’t shit on the music I liked,” you frown, “That’s not cool.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he assures, pulse speeding, “I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry.” You continue talking about music, high school, college, some ins and outs. Nothing too serious. Nothing too intense. But by now, Eddie’s feeling nice and if one thing’s for certain:

He wants to fucking kiss you. Toes at the edge of the diving block, Miss Tiffany’s whistle caught between her teeth.

“So now that we’re three drinks in, can I ask you a personal question?” you ask, your eyes a little glassy. You’ve confessed that you’re tipsy, but aware, that if you have one more drink you won’t be – so Eddie already paid the tab.

“What do you wanna know?” he asks.

“Why’re you,” you enunciate, implying he’s something, “On the apps? It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be single. Unless you have like, something deeply wrong with you, but you’ve been all green flags so far.”

Your hand falls back to his knee and he eyes it before sliding his own hand down his thigh to lace your fingers with his.

“You want the real story?” he asks, lifting your hand up of his knee to play with your fingers in both of his hands while he talks. His hands are warm and calloused on the fingertips, but the rest are soft. Lacing and unlacing, running his thumb up the lengths of your fingers, tracing your palm.

“The real story.”

“You gonna tell me why you’re on the apps after?”

“Sure,” you nod. You look gentle, at ease. He eases in, too.

“I got divorced in 2020,” he confesses. It feels like a weight off his chest to tell you, “Married my high school sweetheart, things were great for a long time, but y’know. People grow and – the pandemic was not kind to us.”

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer softly.

“It’s okay,” he smiles tightly. “I guess I was both surprised and not surprised at all when she broke up with me. Almost relieved, I guess – that I didn’t have to play the part of her husband anymore. Not that she was a bad wife or anything, she was great she just – I don’t know,” he rambles, “And I don’t know, I just threw myself into work and my friends after. Girls after shows. Was too scared to like – go on dates incase it ended up like my marriage and –”

He laughs, “My friends were tired of seeing me be so sad, I guess.”

“You have such a solid support system,” you comment, “You mention your friends, like, every other sentence.”

A beat. “I like that,” you nod and smile. He can’t get over how you look when you do that.

“Why’re you on the apps?” he asks, your hand now cradled between the two of his, his fingers grazing your wrist.

“I’m six months out of a six year long relationship,” you let out a breath through your nose and drop your shoulders a little, “Figured it was time to get back out there – enter my slut era.”

“Oh yeah, you’re super slutty,” he teases, “That’s actually the first thing I thought when I saw you. ‘She’s in her slut era.’” “God, fuck offfff,” you giggle again.

“But yeah, I ended it. I figure I should make that clear,” you say, “Just in case that’s like, a red flag for you. But I don’t know, we just weren’t growing in the same directions. Things felt done way before I left and I – I don’t know. I think I was just scared. I took some time for myself and now, here I am.”

“It’s okay that you ended your relationship, it’s not a red flag,” Eddie’s voice soothes you when he says it, “If you told me you like, cheated on him and then hit him with your car then maybe yeah, I’d be a little concerned. But you’re an adult, you just know what you want better this time around.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your eyes meet in a silent confirmation. His eyes flick to your lips for a second time before tucking his lower lip between his teeth again.

BELLY FLOP!

“You wanna head out? It’s getting a little late,” he offers.

Your brows raise in surprise, “Uh, sure, yeah.”

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you,” he assures, letting his fingers linger over your hand while he stands up, not wanting to lose contact just yet, “Just don’t want to keep you out too late.”

“Oh yes!” you start with an old southern twang, “My daddy’ll be out there with his pistol if I don’t get home ‘fore sundown.”

“You’re funny,” he laughs, letting go over your hand to reach up and squeeze your cheeks affectionately. You both put on your jackets and head outside, both of you wincing in the cold of the winter air.

“I’d really like to do this again, if you want,” a shy blush reaches his cheeks, meeting the pink from the cold.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you’re just as shy in your response, “This was fun. You’re fun.”

“Thank you,” he flushes deeper, trying to prolong the inevitable. What if he belly flops? What if it hurts? What if the kids make fun of him?

“I’d offer to drive you home but I’ve had a few,” he says, hand reaching out to fall on your shoulder, “I feel good to drive but like, god forbid anything happens so – I’m happy to get you a car or pay for it for you.”

“That’s really sweet, thanks. Let me just um,” you pull out your phone to get in Uber with a speed that impresses him, “It’s really not that pricey, I’m close-ish by.”

“Still,” he says, “Just wanna be a gentleman y’know?”

“You’re very gentlemanly,” you flirt. Eddie stiffens, nervous, palms clammy.

“So um, I’ll see you soon?” he asks, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Yeah, for sure,” you nod while you let him engulf you. His scent is warm and spicy, mixed with tobacco. You guess either still smokes, or he used to, but he never got up to have a cigarette in the hours you were at the bar. Eddie let’s go and cups your cheek briefly before giving you a gentle but winning smile. His warm brown eyes linger for the last time on your lips, now they’re slightly parted, waiting for him. His toes curl over the edge of the diving block, his knees are bent, arms up over his head...I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.

Swimming sucks.

“See ya.”

You quirk your brow for a moment, having expected much more than a hug, “Oh, um…see ya.”

He walks half way down the street to his car, heart thrumming in his chest in embarrassment. He should’ve just done it. FUCK. He should’ve just kissed you.

But what if it hurts? What if she leaves? What if you can’t make it to level three? What if they laugh at you?

He breathes heavily through his nose while tears threaten to well up in his eyes, staining his eyelashes. What if you don’t want to see him again after this? What if you change your mind? He sighs audibly when he turns the key, phone auto connecting to the speakers. He turns up the radio while the car revs to life, pulling on his seatbelt and putting the wheels into gear. He leans back in his seat to pull out of his spot only to see you still waiting for the car outside of the bar.

Blink-182 blares through his speakers, hitting him straight in the chest.

‘Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make,this night last forever. Forever. And ever. Let’s make this last forever.’

What if he did stay a little later after class? What if he got the chance to move on to level three?

Fuck it, he thinks. He turns off the ignition, shaking out the sounds of Jason Carver and the kids laughing, the sounds of their feet kicking in the water. Just Miss Tiffany and her whistle. He gets out of the car, determined. You’re still there, head whipping around to see him coming towards you while you bounce on the balls of your feet in the cold.

Arms up. Knees bent. “Ed? My car’s gonna be here in a sec–” Whistle. His hands reach out to your cold cheeks to pull you in before his full lips capture yours. His eyes flutter close at the contact, feeling your mouth react to his in time. Soft and needy, hydrated. You immediately know how to keep his pace while he separates and goes back in for more. Wet but not messy, passionate but not feverish. The smoothest dive he’d ever done in his life. Your hands escape your pockets, fingers sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, sliding through the nape of his hair. He breaks away for a moment to delicately push your hair out of your face and really look at you before pressing his lips to yours again. You only stop when your Uber beeps from across the street.

“I wanted to do that all night,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“I wanted you to do that all night, too,” you giggle, breathless and blushing, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says, running a hand over his face, “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, hurrying across the street as the car honks again, “Bye!”

“I’ll put something together for next time!” he calls out. ‘Cause there will be a next time.

Tatianna is leaning over the back of the couch with her chin in her hands when Eddie opens the door. Her cheshire cat grin matches his own.

“So I didn’t hear from you all night,” she starts, her voice syrupy smooth, “So that means it must’ve went really well.”

Eddie sighs dreamily, kicking off his boots at the entryway and hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the door.

“Ooh, you like herrrr! I can tell! Look at your stupid face!” she laughs, pointing at him, bouncing on the cushions.

“Tati she’s…fuck,” he shakes his head in disbelief while he walks towards her, “There’s either two ways this could go.”

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, “And those are?”

“I’m gonna marry her, or she’s gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin my life.”

“I like her already,” Tati grins, “Sit down, tell me everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a sec,” he grumbles, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He plops down onto the couch while Tati grabs two cups of tea from the kitchen that she made especially for the recap of his night. Gareth had been long asleep for an early morning at work tomorrow.

Eddie takes out his phone, two unread text alerts lingering on his home page. He opens them, smiling stupidly into the screen.

i’m home :) you’re a really good kisser by the way.

glad you made it home safe. you are too. :) but you started off pretty kissable so, that’s probably why. you’re making me blush over here, stop it.

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle through his nose, clicking out of your text conversation to go back to his home screen.

He deletes the apps.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

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sunny44 · 3 months

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Co-parenting (Part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex wife!reader

Warnings: Carlos being a bitch, fighting and maybe other things.

Summary: Co-parenting is never easy but y/n never though it would be so hard.

Next Chapter

Carlos and I got divorced 2 years ago, and currently, we share custody of our daughter, which means I have her since Carlos travels a lot due to racing, so every weekend he’s free, he comes and picks up Maeve.

But this time I had a very unpleasant surprise.

Being famous, I was always aware of what was happening with Carlos, even if I didn’t want to, and a few months ago, rumors came out that he was with some model, and when we separated, we made an agreement that any person who entered romantically into our lives, we would introduce to each other before involving that person in our daughter’s life.

But it seems Carlos had a problem when it comes to him.

I crossed my arms watching Carlos and the model girlfriend get out of the car and come towards my door, besides not notifying me about it, he simply brought her along without any prior discussion or approval.

The doorbell rang, and I walked to the front door, and there were Carlos and Rebecca, both trying to look welcoming and unconcerned.

“Hi, Y/n,” Carlos said, smiling. “How are you?”

“What is this?” I asked, pointing to the two of them.

“What do you mean?”

“You demand an agreement, and when it comes to you, you simply ignore it.” He took a deep breath.

“I know, but we’ve been dating for a while, and I thought it was time for you to meet her.”

“Meet her?” Y/n’s voice trembled with frustration. “You can’t make this decision alone, Carlos. We are her parents, and this should be a decision we make together, not something you just think is a good idea and ignore the fact that I am her mother.”

Rebecca stepped forward, with a gentle voice.

“Y/n, I really just want to get to know her. I’m not trying to replace you.”

And my frustration only intensified.

“It’s not about replacing me. It’s about us making decisions together for our daughter, and that doesn’t involve you being here.” Carlos sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to make you uncomfortable. Let’s talk about this, okay?”

“Oh, so now you want to talk?”

“Can you stop being so difficult? She’s my daughter too.”

“Then start acting like a father instead of going around kissing models in clubs and then bringing them to my doorstep.”

“I am a father when I can be because my life is very busy, and you knew that when we had her.” He says arms crossed. “Maybe you should stop being a terrible mother making me lose the little time I have with my daughter, and then we talk about it.”

“Carlos.” Rebecca speaks as he finishes.

“You know what, if anyone here is a terrible parent, it’s you who prefers to spend your weekends in a car racing in circles and risking leaving your daughter without a father. I’m here every day doing the best I can to take care of her, but apparently, that makes me a terrible mother, so I’ll call her and you do whatever you want since it’s always been like this.”

I enter the house holding back my tears and go call her, she was so excited to see her dad that she didn’t even notice the tension between us, and I thanked god for that.

He tried to talk to me before leaving, but I just said goodbye to Maeve and closed the door, but I couldn’t help but notice that Rebecca wasn’t there anymore.

…

Hours passed and when the end of the day came, I heard the noise of his car, so I went to the door, and when I opened it, she came running.

“Mom, look.” She said showing me a bag full of things. “I’ll show you everything after I take a shower and have dinner.”

“Okay, my love, go ahead.” She smiles, says goodbye to him, and goes to her room.

“Can we talk?”

“No, I don’t want to talk to you.” I tried to close the door, but he held it. “You’ve already said what you think of me, and I’ve already said what I think of you; I don’t think we have anything else to say.”

“What I said is not what I really think.”

“In fact, it is, at least part of you thinks that way, and I’m not going to take back what I said about you because I think that way. I know it’s your career, but I won’t admit that you break our rule, tell me I’m a terrible mother, and then come back wanting to apologize.” He doesn’t say anything. “You don’t know how hard it is to see the guy you loved more than anything with someone else, but especially to see the father of your daughter say that you’re a terrible mother even though I work really hard to give her the best life I can.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That won’t fix things this time, Carlos.” I say looking into his eyes. “You don’t do anything to make my life easier; you show up, do your fatherly duty for a weekend while I stay here dealing with everything else. I don’t have the option of having only the easy parts of having a child. I have to deal with the pressure of being a single mother, having to hide from her every time I need to cry because I can’t take it anymore doing this alone, or having to leave her with my parents because I can’t even get out of bed to take care of her while you’re out there sticking your tongue down supermodels’ throats.”

“I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“And how would you know? You’re never here.” He doesn’t say anything. “I don’t need anything from you, not anymore. The time when I needed you here has passed, and I hope it never comes back.”

“Is everything okay, mommy?” Maeve asks appearing on the stairs, having taken a shower and wearing pajamas.

“Yes, my love, what do you want to eat?” I say wiping my tears.

“I want nuggets with veggies.”

“Okay, so let’s make them.”

“Are you going to have dinner here, daddy?”

“No, my love, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“But don’t you have to go travel?”

“I do, but not now.”

“Okay.” She goes to him and then comes back to the table. “I’ll really come to pick her up tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.” He leaves, and I lock everything.

“Mommy, where are you?” She screams from the kitchen.

“I’m coming baby.”

I’m not sure if I’ll write a part 2 but if you guys want another part, let me know.

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f1byjessie · 3 months

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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part four.

“Saw McLaren posted pics of the new car,” Jack says in lieu of a greeting when he sees you after the weekend. He picks up his pace and crosses the distance to meet you where you’re fumbling with the keys to your “office”, and then he takes a few of the many equipment bags you’re attempting to juggle, saying as he does so, “You take any of those or no?”

You laugh, “Ah, no. They actually hire on a whole studio crew that does that. They’ve got lights, green screens, special camera lenses, the whole lot. The post-production on those photos is mad though.” You get the door unlocked and usher him inside, “I got to sit in on it once, and it’s crazy how much work goes into getting just a couple week’s worth of promotional content.”

He sets your bags down where you direct him to and then offers you a snarky grin, “Still probably would’ve looked cooler if you took ‘em, to be fair.”

It makes you laugh again. Jack seems to be good at that, and it feels nice to get along so well with someone you work with. You’ve found a surprising friend in him. At the end of your conversation on Friday, you’d exchanged numbers and he’d made you promise to reach out if you needed him for anything. You hadn’t, but he’d still sent you an unflatteringly angled picture of Kyle Walker from after their match against Newcastle, followed quickly with━ “use this in the next media drop thx,” and the chatter had gone from there.

You set down your own bags. “Well, thank you. Pretty sure it’s not as fun as this job, though.”

And you mean it. You’ve had opportunities to switch over to studio photography, and though you respect the people who do it and the unique challenges it poses in its own right, there’s nothing like being upfront and personal with all the action, getting to see the athletes in their element and know them on a level that goes beyond an hour or two shoot. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Wait,” you pause, hands stopping just above where you’re ready to start sorting through your equipment, “since when did you keep up with Formula One?”

Jack shrugs. “I don’t. But you work for that team, yeah? So I figured I might as well see what they’re all about.”

“Well, if you need something to do during the summer, let me know and I’ll see what I can do,” you tell him, resuming your sorting. “They give me extra tickets for each race but they usually end up going to waste.”

You don’t bring up the falling out you had with your parents at eighteen when you told them you were going to pursue photography or the fact that you haven’t really talked to them in years because of it. You also don’t mention that due to the strenuous, near-constant traveling and the strict schedule of your job, your friendships are limited to the athletes you work with and the other McLaren staff that travel with you━ all of whom have passes of their own, for obvious reasons.

Jack, thankfully, doesn’t ask about it either. Whether he’s made his own assumptions or respects that it’s probably a sore subject, he leaves it alone and the two of you carry on in companionable silence.

You get your equipment unzipped from the bags and organized across the room per your system, guiding your temporary helper with pointed fingers to where it all should go.

The silence is only broken again when he asks you a question. “You got a favorite driver?”

It’s so out of the blue that you nearly jump, startled by the suddenness of it against the quietness of the room. But then you laugh and shake your head. “Officially no, but just between the two of us, me and Lando started at the same time so he’s got a special place in my heart. He’s also my best friend.”

Jack raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” Despite the persona he puts on, you think he secretly loves gossip. “How’d he take the news about you being with Ward, then? ‘Cause I’d have some choice things to say to any friend of mine if they got with a prick like that.”

You purse your lips, divert your gaze to avoid Jack’s eyes, and shrug, fiddling with the neck strap of your camera as you do so. “I don’t know.”

“You ‘don’t know?’”

You shrug again and feign checking over the settings as if your camera’s aperture is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “He hasn’t been picking up my calls,” you start, “or answering my texts since the paps released the pics, so.”

When you glance back up, Jack’s making a face. “So, your best friend finds out you’re dating a total bellend, and instead of asking you about it or at the very least taking the piss, he ignores you?”

When he puts it like that, you feel a bit stupid for being more sad than you are angry.

All you can do is shrug.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mancity, jackgrealish, and 241,976 others

tagged: jackgrealish

yourusername ladies and gentlemen, jack grealish (i was threatened into posting these, send help pls)

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You decide that if Lando gets to be petty, then so do you.

The thing is, you’d told Lando you wouldn’t replace him with any of the guys from Manchester City, and you’d meant it━ you still mean it, despite your frustrations and annoyances with him telling you otherwise.

But if he’s going to play games, then so are you.

Technically you hadn’t started the relationship with Garrett willingly, but Lando doesn’t know that, and even if you had that doesn’t give him the right to go about ignoring you. You’ve been supportive when he’s gotten girlfriends━ you even ate greasy pizza, drank cheap wine, and cried watching The Notebook together when he ended his long-term relationship back in 2022. He could at least pretend to be supportive, or better yet he could pick up the fucking phone.

As pathetic as it sounds, you’d let him yell at and berate you if it just meant he’d answer your calls. Because having Jack around to gossip with and shoot the shit is nice, and he really does help you not feel so alone at Etihad Campus, but Lando’s your best friend and he has been for years now. There’s nobody that understands you as well as he does, even if he is a twat half the time, and what you need now most of all is that particular Lando brand of annoying to cheer you up.

The door opens, drawing your attention from where you’re scrolling through McLaren’s newest posts. Garrett stands in the opening.

The memory of that night still lingers like a bad taste in your mouth, bitter and unpleasant. You’ve managed to avoid him for the most part in the time since then, ignoring the looks he shoots your way out on the field or in the weight room, and lucky enough that his meetings with the physio team keep him preoccupied so that he can’t seek you out in between training sessions. You’d known it was inevitable that you’d have to face him, but that doesn’t stop the dread from pooling in your stomach when you see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as he surveys the makeshift office you’ve done up for yourself.

“They couldn’t find you an actual office?” He comments, looking disdainfully towards your desk and the large Manchester City logo emblazoned across the front.

You shrug, wishing he’d just get to the point. “I’m only here for a few months. Doesn’t matter much to me. What do you want?”

He takes a step farther into the room and closes the door behind him, taking his sweet time to cross the distance toward the seats. When he’s finally lowered down into one, he looks up to you with a nonchalance that fills you immediately with anger.

“I’m making some amendments to our agreement,” he announces.

“Like hell you are.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you seriously expect people to believe we’re a couple if we never actually do anything to give off the impression of being a couple?”

You scowl. Obviously, you hadn’t expected to just skate by on the coattails of pictures from a single night. You’d known from the very beginning that you would eventually need to make another public appearance together at the very least if you wanted to keep the paparazzi fed and encourage the idea to the media that you’re in a committed relationship with one another. You’d just been hoping you would’ve had more time until then.

“I’m not an idiot, Garrett,” you grumble, crossing your arms in your seat. You had been looking through pictures from the day’s morning practice, but now you think having to look at any more of Kevin De Bruyne’s grinning face will make you lose your mind when you feel the furthest thing from happy.

“Obviously,” Garrett scoffs. “But you’re the one who said I get one kiss and nothing more. Newsflash, love━” your scowl deepens, “━couples do more than just kiss one time.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

He pulls his phone from the pocket of his joggers and swipes across the screen for a few moments of anticipatory silence. “Well,” he finally says, “it’s the sixteenth now. We haven’t got a match until the twenty-sixth. Go on a date with me this weekend.”

You can’t say no. There’s no plausible excuse for you to get out of it, and deep down you know the only way you can get rid of Garrett is to just do what he says and hope the media make their conclusions about his change quick enough that you can ditch him before the summer break.

At least during the Formula One season, you can use traveling as a reason to get out of dates. When the Champion’s League starts back up he’ll be traveling around Europe a bit more than he is now, and there’s always a chance you could be in the same country at the same time, but the likelihood of your schedules aligning is slim and that means you’ll be safe from any ventures out into public.

But for the time being, you’re stuck.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.

He claps his hands, a deceptively cheerful grin on his face. If you didn’t already think of him as the worst prick you’ve ever met, you might’ve found it charming. It’s the same smile he used to flash at you in your first week when he was trying to cozy up and ease his way into your good graces. The sight of it makes you sick to your stomach, now.

“Great,” he rises from his seat. “We’ll do some shopping, get some lunch━ make a full day out of it.”

At this point, you don’t care what he has planned. You just want him to leave you alone so you can try to at least pretend like you’re gonna finish the rest of the work you need to get around to.

Garrett’s made his way to the door and has his hand reaching for the handle when he turns back around and gives you a smirk. “Might wanna work on your happy face, though, love,” he comments, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. “‘Cause if you look like that in front of the paps they definitely aren’t gonna be very convinced that you love me.”

Just to spite him, you let your scowl deepen. “I don’t need your advice. I know how to handle myself, Garrett.” You say his name like a curse━ like the very feeling of it on your tongue causes you pain.

If he notices, he doesn’t comment. His face turns thoughtful, but there’s still the smugness painted across his features that makes you so unfathomably annoyed. “You must be pretty familiar with the paps if you’re always around those drivers, yeah?” He knows the answer to his question already, so you’re not sure why he’s even asking.

He stays silent, though, like he’s genuinely expecting an answer, so you shrug your shoulders. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats back to you.

His laughter is all you hear echoing in your ears even once he’s long gone.

Until your phone starts to ring and Lando's name flashes across the screen.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght

━━ a/n: cliffhanger hehe~ also, i promise we're getting to ACTUAL formula one stuff soon

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I bare you this! The letter that Steve's dad leaves is literally something like my best friend's mom gave her. I was so shocked! Like what parent does this and talks this way!

Enjoy <3

Warning: Dom Steddie and Sub Plus size reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut of course with the angst and the fluff. Carol and Tommy are mean to the reader and embarrass her at Steve's party. Steve briefly talks about his trauma. The dad leaves a note for Steve basically telling him he needs to be better. Dirty talk for sure, chocking, slight degrading if you squint.

Word count: 4705

You nibbled on the fries in front of you as you watched Steve and Eddie talk to each other. How had you never known that they even knew one another?

After you guys left the school, Eddie offered to drive you but you felt more comfortable taking your own car, following them to a diner right in the middle of downtown Hawkins. You couldn’t help but pause when Steve held the front door open for you, raising an eyebrow as he gestured inside. It was such an odd contrast especially when it came to him, seeing him be so polite.

“Do you two come here a lot?” You blurted out your question a bit too quickly causing both their heads to turn towards you, giving you an odd look.

“Like on a date or? I mean, Harrington doesn’t really treat me like the beautiful being I am but…”

“No, I mean…”, you giggled and they smiled. It was the first time since they met you that they genuinely heard you laugh. “Why didn’t I know you guys were friends? Even he said your friends don’t know about him.”

“That is a great question. Stevie? Thoughts?”

“We hang out.”

“Getting high in my trailer after school or on weekends doesn’t count.”

“Oh yeah? And what is this? What are we doing now?”, he chuckles.

“Does it bother you?”, you ask Eddie.

“I’ve never really thought about it if I’m being honest.”

“What are you doing?”, Steve asks with a sharp tone.

“I-I-I’m just trying…to get to know you. Understand.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’re trying to cause problems between me and Munson here.”

Your eyes meet his annoyed ones filing with your own frustration. “Is that normal for you, Steve Harrington? To think everyone has a motive?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He turns to look at Eddie who smiles as he shrugs. “Well, look who found her voice all of the sudden.”

“Did you ever think maybe I always had a voice but it was constantly stifled by people like you!”

“Define people like me.”

“Stuck up, preppy daddy’s boys who only care about what other people think of him instead of growing a pair and just being himself!”

Eddie watched you both with a small smirk as you and Steve glared at each other. Something flashed through the man’s eyes before he glanced at the metalhead, nodding before rising from the table and heading out the door.

“Wow, sweetheart. You really got under his skin.”

“I did?”

“Steve Harrington doesn’t just silently leave. He always has to have the last word. I’m betting it was the ‘daddy’s boy’ part.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, baby. You don’t.”

#################

The next day, Steve didn’t say a thing to you or even look your way. In class he sat where he was supposed to and during detention that afternoon, he placed himself behind Eddie on the opposite end of the classroom.

Eddie wasn’t out right ignoring you like his friend but he wasn’t really trying to initiate a conversation with you either. He grinned when you walked by during lunch and gave a loud “Hey, princess!” when you entered the room after school.

On Friday, nothing changed and it killed you. You had no idea why but it did. Steve was still an asshole, right? Even though you admitted you didn’t hate him, you still didn’t care about him. Right? So why during your final afternoon in detention, are you staring at him as he doodled in his notebook?

I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. Is he going to ignore me forever now? Should I apologize? I miss his lips. Wait…what the fuck am I saying?! This is incredibly frustrating!

“Alright boys and girl, congratulations. You have made it through your week of punishment. Eddie I’m sure I will see you again. Steve and Y/N, please, for the love of God, behave.”

The three of you smile as you get up and exit the classroom. They both walk ahead of you as if they had no idea who you are.

“Steve?” You call his name as soon as you enter the parking lot. When he doesn’t respond, you run ahead of them, trying to block their path. “Steve, please.”

They both shift around you as they continue to talk to each other. “You’re coming tomorrow night, right?”

“I’ll be there.”, Eddie grins. You watch in awe as they both get in their cars and Steve speeds away. “See you on Monday, sweetheart! Behave now.”, he winks before starting his van and disappearing down the road.

###############

“Why are we here?”, Masie asks as she looks around at all the drunk students.

“Come on. It will be fun.”

It took some sleuthing but you found out from another girl on the basketball team that Steve Harrington was throwing a huge party on Saturday night. Your blood boiled as you realized he purposely invited Eddie in front of you to make you feel even worse.

“I’m, um, I’m going to go find the drinks.”

“Please don’t leave me alone for long!”, your friend shouted as you left her side.

Steve’s home was gorgeous, much nicer than your own. Kids were packed in tight as they danced to the music beating against the walls of the house. Carol’s hair came into your view and you hastily tucked into a nearby room. As you looked around you realized you must be in his father’s study.

There was a desk with papers scattered all over it. The bookshelf against the wall was filled to the brim with law books and encyclopedias. On a nearby table, you noticed a bunch of photographs of Mr. Harrington and his wife.

Where are the pictures of Steve? Maybe he just doesn’t have any in here…that’s odd. You would think he would want to have pictures of his son close by where he works.

You circled around to the desk, brushing papers aside as you skimmed them until something caught you attention.

Steven,

I am very disappointed in your behavior as of late. You’re barely passing your classes. You haven’t gotten any better at basketball or swimming. You refuse to save any money for college (If you can even get into one at this point) and your mother found drugs hidden in one of your drawers.

You spend a lot of time with that freak or girls you don’t intend on staying with. I am ashamed and so far, son, you are not living up to the Harrington name.

I’ll give you one more year to shape up. If you can’t it together by graduation I will NOT pay for your schooling. Do you understand me?!

Sign and return to my desk. I will file it with my other investments when I get home.

Sincerely,

Bill Harrington

X Steven Harrington

“It’s not polite to snoop, Y/N.”

You jump at the sound of his voice as you turn to find Steve leaning against the closed door with a drink in his hand. He smelled incredibly strong like liquor making your heart break.

“Your father gave you this?”

He pushes off the wall, coming to stand beside you as he cranes his neck to look at the paper in your hands.

“Yup. This is one of the tamer ones.”

“Steve, he talks about you like…your property.” He shrugs as he takes a seat in the office chair. “I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just a preppy, daddy’s boy who needs to grow a pair, right?”

Your head hangs as you place the letter back down on the desk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No. You didn’t.”

As you start to head for the door, something stops you. You spin around and his arms open in surprise when you place yourself on his lap, leaning your head on his shoulder. His chest heaves underneath you before his limbs come back down to wrap around you as his head leans against yours.

The loud sound of glass breaking startles you both. “Fucking hell. I can’t have one God damn moment; I swear.” You slide off his lap and he angrily opens the door to find out what happened.

You leave the room to find Masie who was sitting outside on one of Steve’s patio chairs talking to someone you two had class with. You joined her physically but mentally you were somewhere else. Sifting through the last few years, you wondered if there had been any clues to Steve’s relationship with his father. All you remembered was an asshole, Tom Cruise style wanna-be.

He never once let on there might be trouble at home. Hell, he was having a party in the house right now like he didn’t care what his dad thought.

The feeling of something cold dowsing your body, jolted you back to reality. You stood up, watching as liquid spilled down your head, into your clothes, and on to the concrete below your feet. Your eyes met Tommy’s who was now holding an empty pitcher in his hand.

“Shit! Y/N, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Not that you’re hard to miss. Maybe it’s because you weren’t invited.”, he snickered.

Masie stood up, placing herself in front of you. “Have you lost your fucking mind? That was extremely uncalled for!”

You panicked as your eyes looked around the pool area to see people staring at the display that was unfolding. As your body began shutting down, you felt leather being placed around your shoulders.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re ok.”

“Speaking of uninvited…”, Carol giggled.

As Eddie started to turn you around, you both ran into the host of the party. Steve’s eyes scanned your fragile frame and the snarky smiles on his friend’s faces.

“Everybody out! Out now! You heard me! Parties over!” Carol and Tommy looked around confused but didn’t move as he gently reached for your friend’s arm, tugging her towards you. “You guys, go inside. There are some towels in the washroom by the kitchen. Why are you two still here?! I said out!”

“Are you fucking kidding?”

“No, I’m not. This is MY house. Now get… out…”, Steve growls.

Tommy wraps his arm around Carol’s shoulder as they leave his backyard. After a quick run through to make sure everyone had left, he found the three of you in his kitchen as Eddie ran a towel through your hair.

“Do you have some clothes, man? Something she can put on.”

“I-I-I can’t go home like this. M-m-my dad will kill me if I come home smelling like alcohol.”, you cried.

“He will. Her parents are strict as hell especially her mom.” Masie rubs your back comfortingly. “She told them she was having dinner with me tonight so she could come here…for some reason.” She squints her eyes at Eddie.

If only she knew that he wasn’t the only reason.

“Why don’t you tell them she’s spending the night with you?”

“IS she?” Your friend glares at them both. “Because I’m not leaving her here alone with you Steve Harrington.”

“Maze, it’s ok.”

“Um, Y/N, it’s not ok! Did you see what his friends just did to you?!”

“YES, I DID! I did… I’m fine, ok? Eddie, will take me home tomorrow.”

Her eyes shift between everyone before focusing on the metalhead. “I will be calling her house at noon tomorrow. If she doesn’t answer, I’m calling Chief Hopper. Do I make myself clear?”

“A bit dramatic but yes.” As soon as she leaves, Steve gestures to Eddie, who takes your hand as you both follow him up the stairs. “I like her. She has a lot of spunk.”

“Masie Collin’s has always been that way.”, the other boy sighs as he opens his bathroom door.

“Ah. I’ve never met her before.” He focuses on your body as he removes your beer-soaked clothes, passing them to Steve who stumbles backwards into the wall. “Apparently, I got here too late. Do you need to go lay down, Harrington?”

The man nods slightly as he pushes past you both but instead of turning towards his bedroom, you hear him stomp down the stairs. Eddie turns on the shower, waiting patiently for it to warm up.

“Okay, Sweetheart. Go ahead and take as long as you need. I’ll go riffle through his drawers and see what I can find for you to wear.”

As he turns to leave, you reach out and grab his arm. “Will…will you stay with me?”

“Do you want me to stay in here with you or do you want me to join you?”

“Will you stand in the shower with me, please?”

Eddie steps forward, brushing your hair behind your ears with his fingers. “I said do you WANT… Talk to me like you want it.”

“Eddie, I want you take a shower with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

He softly smiles as he takes a step back and removes his shirt before sliding down his pants with his boxers. You take his hand as he guides you into the tub and you sigh at the feeling of the hot water hitting your body.

Eddie chuckles as he reaches for the shampoo in the corner. “Well, you won’t smell like alcohol but let’s hope your parents don’t know what Steve smells like.”

He grins as you laugh, putting product in his hands, and rubbing it into your scalp. Eddie continued to help clean your body, exhaling pleasure filled breaths anytime his lips would randomly land on your skin.

A tiny squeak left you when his fingers grazed between your legs. “Oh. Sensitive.”, he quips with a mischievous smile.

“I’m still a little sore.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in joking surprise. “Geez, are our cocks that big?” You bite down on your bottom lip as he slowly inserts his middle finger into your entrance. “Or are you just that tight?”

He gets to his feet, placing his other hand on your lower back, sliding you closer to him. “God, I’ve never felt a pussy this tight before.” You moan as he guides his lips to your own. “Normally, I don’t ask but I know you’ve been through a lot tonight. Can I fuck you?”

“I…I don’t want you to ask. That’s what the word is for right?”

“Yeah, baby. That’s right.”

“Then take me, Eddie. Please…I need you to.”

“Fuck me.”, he groans as his lips crash to yours.

He removes his fingers, gripping your waist to adjust your body so your back was facing him. You felt his palm dig into your shoulder as his other hand brought your hips into his own, guiding his length into your cunt.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your tummy as he delivered several hard thrusts that pushed you forward into the cold tile. Your hands shot out to hold yourself steady as he pressed his chest flush to you back.

“Yeah? Fuck, princess, you feel so good. You like the way my cock feels?” You whimpered as your head fell against his shoulder. “Answer me, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick inside of you, stretching you open.”

“I do—mmm—Eddie. Oh my god. I love the way you feel. Please—mmm—please make me cum.”

Eddie pumped his hips faster as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom. The coil that had quickly began to wind snapped as you moaned his name repeatedly.

“Good girl. So fucking sexy when you cum. I like the way your body trembles. Fuck. Get-Get down on your knees, baby.”

He pulls out of you and you do as your told, his palm falling to the back of your head as your wrap your lips around his cock. “F-fuck. Don’t fucking move.” Curling his fingers tightly in your hair, he thrusts his hips roughly, forcing himself down your throat. As he begins to sputter, he holds you still and you feel his warm spend fill your mouth.

“Good girl. Swallow my cum.”

After you do what he asks, he grabs your forearm helping you to your feet as he smiles. “Do you feel clean or do you want me to do another once over?”

“No, I’m ok. I’m really exhausted.”

“I can imagine.”, he chuckles as he turns off the water and steps out of the tub onto the mat. “Here. Go ahead and dry off. I’m going to go find you some clothes.”

When he doesn’t come back after you’re dry, you go looking for him, finding him in Steve’s room; the boy himself completely passed out.

“Hey, sorry. He actually threw your clothes in the washer so I moved them to the dryer. I’m trying to find something here but kid is too fucking thin. Some of these shirts would barely fit me as a fucking crop top.”

While Eddie spoke, you had tiptoed over to Steve’s bed. Even though he was asleep, he still had a pained expression on his face. You reached out to delicately move some hair to the side and he lightly sighed as he adjusted his head to face the other way.

The metalhead watched you with fascination as you took off the towel that wrapped around you, tossing it to the floor, and climbed into the bed beside his friend. Your hand traced his back over his shirt and again he sighed but the disgruntled look on his face softened.

You smiled when you felt Eddie climb in behind you. For some reason, just laying between them like this made you feel comfortable; safe. His arm slide under your pillow and after a while you heard his steady breathing as he fell asleep.

#############

The feeling of thumb caressing your lips, made your eyes flutter open and were met with the beautiful, amber ones across from you.

“Hey. Are you okay?”, you whisper. Steve nods as he lazily rolls fully onto his side facing you. “By the time I got here you were pretty wasted. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember you being nosey and Carol being a bitch. I remember kicking everyone out and you being sad. Before I fell asleep, I think I heard moaning in my shower but…” He grinned as you blushed. “You smell like me.”

“That’s good. At least I don’t smell like beer anymore.”

“It’s not fair though. You smell like me but not BECAUSE of me.” Steve’s soft palm glided down your back, over your ass to the back of your thigh, lifting it to place your leg over his waist. His hard cock pressed against the outside of your puffy lips making you moan. “I did like waking up to you naked beside me. It took all of my energy not to just take what I wanted while you slept.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He slowly grinded his waist, dragging his length between your folds causing you both to let out a needy whine.

“Because I like hearing you whimper when I first slide my cock into your tight pussy. Like you can’t take me but you know you need me. Do you need me, honey?”

Your hands reach out to cling to the back of his neck as you place your forehead on his. “Yes, Steve. Please…fuck. I need you so bad.”

“Where, baby? Tell me where you need me.”

“I-I-I…” You stumble over your words, already feeling so overwhelmed by him.

A low, growl rumbles from his chest as his palm comes up to wrap around your throat. “You take too long to answer simple questions.”

“I’m sorry. I just—”

“I don’t care. Tell me…what you need.”

You swear you hear Eddie’s breathing pick up behind you but as you try to turn your head to look Steve grips your jaw forcing your eyes to remain on his.

“Jesus! And so easily distracted. Did she give you this much trouble last night?”

“No. She told me she needed me and swallowed my cum like a good girl.”, Eddie responds through heavy pants.

Aggressively, you press your lips to his, relishing in the taste that you missed for almost three days. These men were almost like a drug to you and when Steve pulled away you saw it in his eyes to.

“Please, Steve. I missed you and how you feel inside me. I need you to make me cum.”

The man gripped your hips as he rolled you onto your back, lifting your other leg to wrap around him. As his mouth traveled down your neck, you were finally able to look at Eddie who was stroking his dick under the blanket as he watched you both.

Your hand reached out to tug down the sheet making him chuckle. “Do you want to see me play with myself, pretty girl?”

When you nod, Eddie tosses the blanket down to the end of the bed not only exposing himself but Steve between your legs. Your hand reaches out to help him but he promptly stops you, placing your palm against his friend’s back.

“Naw, sweetheart. I had you. It’s his turn.”

With that, the boy slid his cock into your entrance, both men watching your face as it scrunched in pleasure. Steve thrust into you roughly, hitting that spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back.

You licked your lips as you watched the metalhead, his moans making your pussy clench.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, no.”, Steve whined as his head fell into the nook between your neck and shoulder. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as his rhythm faltered and you felt his seed warm your insides.

“It’s…it’s ok. It’s alright, Steve.”, you cooed as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Alcohol isn’t always a man’s best friend.”, Eddie breathily laughs as his own rhythm slows.

Steve’s head shot up, quickly pulling himself out of you before climbing down your body and placing your legs over his shoulders. You cried out as his mouth wrapped around your clit and he rapidly pushed two fingers into your dripping hole.

“Oh-oh my god.” You palm floated down, holding tightly to the back of his head.

Eddie’s shoulder brushed your own as he scooted closer to you, his lips warming your ear. “You did say you needed to cum and if I know Harrington he would never leave a girl he likes unsatisfied.”

Your other hand tried to reach for his cock again but he hastily slapped the back of it before reaching over to slap one of your breasts. “I said no. You’re his right now. Who do you belong to right now?”

“S-Steve.”

Eddie smacked your tit again eliciting a soft moan. “Louder so I know you understand.”

“I belong to Steve! Fuck…” In response to your cries, Steve’s tongue flicked faster against you as his head shook from side to side. “Yes…just like that. I’m gonna…”

You felt the metalheads arm beside you move at a quicker pace as his breathing became more labored. Back arching, your hips grinded against the man’s fingers and tongue as you came.

Gradually bringing your quivering legs back down to the bed, Steve placed delicate kisses on your nub making you twitch.

Eddie’s body curled inward as he came, his release shooting out and hitting his thigh.

Usually, they were both quick to clean and take care of you, but you were surprised when Steve laid his head on your lower belly, wrapping his arm around you after bringing your bent knee to lean against his back. Eddie’s head leaned on your shoulder as his hand reached down to intertwine his fingers with your own. You weren’t sure how to react so you just did what felt right choosing to continue to play with Steve’s hair as you pressed your cheek on top of Eddie’s head.

You don’t know how long you three laid like that but the sound of a phone ringing pushed you out of the pleasurable moment. Steve groaned as he rolled over to answer it.

“Hello? Harrington house…yeah. Hey, dad.”

“This may take a while. Come on, princess.” Eddie yanked on your hand, guiding you back to the bathroom where he reached for a rag and cleaned you both. “Ok, stay here. I’m going to go grab your clothes.”

He reappeared quickly, beaming as he handed you your outfit. “Now you’ll smell like Harrington and rich people detergent.” You giggled as you thanked him and he disappeared again to throw on his own ensemble.

As you descended his stairs, your breath caught at how much trash there was everywhere from his party last night. You wondered into his kitchen, finding the trash bags, and began grabbing cups and plates along the way.

“What are you doing?”

Steve’s voice startled you, your eyes darting towards where he was watching you. “Oh, you scared me. I’m helping you clean. I don’t want your parents to get mad at you.”

“They won’t be home till Wednesday.” His eyes scanned you over, always trying to get a read on you.

“They leave you by yourself that long?” That genuinely made you sad for him. His folks seemed to be the exact opposite of yours. Where yours at times could be pretty strict and micromanaging, his didn’t seem to care at all. Or didn’t care about their son the way they should judging by the letter you found.

“Aw. I love it. A girl with a heart.” Eddie grins as he noisily comes down to where you both are. “Unfortunately, babe, I was threatened to have you home by noon. It is currently… a little after eleven and I don’t know how far you live.”

“I’m maybe about 8 miles that way.”, you gesture somewhere behind you. “I, um, I do need you to drop me off a few houses down. I’m sorry. It’s just if they see me hop out of a van…well any car that isn’t Masie’s they will have questions.”

The metalhead nods as he reaches for his jacket and digs for his keys. “Do you mind looping back around, Munson, to drop me back off here?”

“Not a problem, man.”

“Oh Steve, you don’t have to come.”

“Do you not want me to?”, his asks with a forceful tone.

“Of course, I do… I don’t want to be burden.”

“Interesting.” Eddie muses as Steve grabs his jacket and you three head out the door. “Harrington thinks everyone has a motive. You think you’re a burden. Once we figure out my damage is we’ll win ‘fucked up people’ bingo.”

#################

“Yeah, I’m just right there. Thank you for taking me home.”

“My pleasure.”, Eddie grins.

“Are you going to be okay?” You both turn to look at Steve who was now leaning forward between the two front seats. “I said I remembered Carol being bitch but Tommy was the one who poured that pitcher all over you, right?”

You nodded before down casting your gaze towards the floor. “It’s not the first time. Freshman year he spilled milk on my dress in the lunch line. In middle school, we all had that field trip to the theater and he pretended to trip, pouring soda down my back. You know, looking back on it, I’m starting to think Tommy Hagan doesn’t know how to drink a beverage.”

They both laugh, making you smile. You’d never seen Steve honestly grin with his teeth before. You reach out with your palm and bring his lips to yours before doing the same with Eddie.

“I’ll be ok. I’m always okay.” As soon as you jump out of the van, Steve climbs into your seat. You start to head for your house but a thought suddenly hits you. “Oh! Um, I almost forgot. Do either of you have a pen?”

They look around before the metalhead make a tiny aha sound, reaching over to hand you a marker. You giggle as you take it from him, grabbing the boy’s hand and writing something on it. “That’s my line. My parents have their own…for business.” You roll your eyes as you wave and they watch you jog towards your house.

Eddie smiles as he shows Steve his palm with your phone number scrolled across.

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719

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tojiscumdumpster · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER EIGHT - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

Today has literally sucked every single last bit of energy I had left inside of me. Dark coffee with six packets of sugar and a fruit bowl could not have prepared me for the day I had.

I’m not sure if it’s because I stayed up late last night to put together lessons or how active my students have been during classes, but a bottle of wine is well needed right now.

Days like this make me want to quit my job and move out of the country. Usually, I would feel this way if I was teaching elementary school kids. Not high schoolers.

Sometimes they refuse to listen to you. Somehow, they magically forget about their homework, so they beg for an extension. And a lot of times they talk while they’re supposed to be silent reading.

It’s overwhelming being a teacher. Anyone who does it, is simply for the passion because the pay isn’t the greatest.

Thank goodness for my savings.

Anyways.

I’m ready to go home. This parent-teacher conference is going on longer than expected, and it absolutely has nothing to do with the divorced single dad in front of me that won’t stop flirting.

Cons of being a younger teacher. Dads. Lots of them. Some are handsome, but I didn’t become a teacher to be hit on while trying to discuss their child’s grades and curriculum.

“Mr. Anderson, your son has been falling behind in class,” I begin. “He’s been on his phone lately and tends to talk over students while they're reading.”

“I see. I’ll be sure to talk to him about that, Mrs. L /N.”

I give him a tight smile— “Miss, —” correcting him. “Any other questions? I believe we discussed enough these past ninety minutes.”

Even though the conferences are expected to last only thirty minutes, max, forty-five .

“Apologies thought a woman as attractive as yourself would be married,” he says with a smile that might’ve been charming if I was drunk, but right now—it makes me cringe.

I nod. “Well, I appreciate your compliment, Mr. Anderson. If there’s nothing else, then I do have to go-”

“Dinner?”

“Excuse me?” I stuttered.

He lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry. That was my failed attempt at asking you out to dinner.”

And here I thought I almost had him out the door. Like I said, some of the dads are attractive. I can’t deny that about Mr. Anderson. Tall. Smooth skin. Nice smile. Salt and pepper hair action going on. I would say he’s probably in his mid-forties.

However, I’m not interested in building a roster full of DILFs to keep in my bucket whenever I need sexual relief.

One should suffice.

“Mr. Anderson, although I’m flattered, it’s best to keep this professional. I don’t want to get involved with my student’s father that way. So, I’ll have to decline.” What a hypocrite I am . “Come, I’ll see you out.”

He gets up and follows me to the door. The woman in me knows he’s staring at my ass right now, so I turn to my side. And of course, I caught him in action.

“Apologies if I made you uncomfortable, Miss L /N.”

“Apologies accepted. Enjoy the rest of your day,” I tell him, sounding sarcastic as ever.

Actually, two bottles of wine are much needed.

After two more excruciating hours at school, I eventually made it home. I think to myself one day I’ll leave work before it hits four, but I guess that’s inevitable when you’re an overachieving teacher like me.

To prepare myself for the next day, I usually stay later than usual to lay out all my lessons. However, I think it’s time for me to use one weekend to plan a month’s worth of lessons so I can stop staying so late.

Isn’t this what I complained to Nanami about? I remembered being tired of him staying after hours or bringing work to our home when all I wanted to do was read a book and lay under him.

It seems like his habits grew onto me.

The irony.

Probably if I had someone to come home to, I wouldn’t be thinking about work after I clocked out. Being single and thirty isn’t the worst thing ever, but I honestly thought I would’ve been settled down by now.

That was the plan with Nanami.

I still can’t believe the nerve he had the other day during brunch. To ask me if we could try again after I already gave him two chances? Like I would ever sacrifice my happiness just so he could get his shit together.

My patience is high but not to that extent, and I refuse to wait for anyone to love me properly. I just hated that it had to be that way with Nanami.

We felt right together. He loved me. Made me feel beautiful. Extremely kind and gentle with me. I was one of those girlfriends that would “ my boyfriend” people to death because he made me happy.

Our way of meeting was such a cliché and it convinced me we were going to last forever. It’s only right to feel that way in a five-year relationship.

But after a while, what Nanami and I built became dull. Our relationship felt more like a chore than love between two people. It was transactional in a way that benefited him more than it did me. I didn’t want that anymore.

I didn’t want to become a wife and bring a child into the world with the possibility of being a single mother in a marriage. Nanami knew how much I wanted to start a family together, but he chose his principal duties over us.

I deeply sigh. “See what happens when you drink wine, Y/N,” whispering to myself.

Gosh, I shouldn’t even be drinking on a school night. I check my phone to not only see that it's eight-thirty, but also to be left with no new messages or missed phone calls from…

Toji .

He’s had my number since yesterday, however, I have yet to hear from him. I mean, which is understandable. He works a late night job and has a fifteen-year-old son, so I’m not first of his priorities. Though, it would be nice to hear from him.

Thinking about Toji Fushiguro makes me feel like a high school girl who’s excited that her crush finally notices her. His gruffness, demeanor, how he carries himself. . . It’s different. I’ve had my fair share of relationships in the past before Nanami, but I’ve never come across a man like Toji.

At least, I don’t think so.

A complete stranger Toji is to me yet the comfort he gives me is weird. Weird in a good way. I can only imagine how it’ll be the more we learn about each other. That’s if he doesn’t back out.

Only time will tell.

It’s time for me to go to sleep. If I stay up any longer, I’ll finish this bottle of wine and throw my mind into a frenzy for the rest of the night. But the minute I slipped into bed, my phone rang.

A number that I’m not familiar with calls me and I’m left to believe it’s only one person.

“Hello?”

“. . . Hey .” I know that voice from anywhere. Deep, soothing, and spreads chills across my body.

“Mr. Fushiguro. Calling me after school hours? I’m not on the clock, you know?” I tease.

He chuckles, a little more faint than usual, but still a sound I enjoy hearing. “Remember you saying I can use your number however I please.”

“I did say that didn’t I?” I can’t help but smile and stay up a few minutes extra to talk to Toji. “What’s up, big guy? You okay?”

“Sounds like I’m not?”

“A little.”

He hums. “ I see. . . How was your day? ”

It’s clear there’s something on Toji’s mind, but I’ll listen to him when he’s ready.

“It was… long. Draining,” I answer. “I was close to pulling my hair out.”

“ Want to talk about it? ”

I sit up in my bed. “It’s just work being work. Not much to say that won’t cause you to get tired of hearing me talk.”

The laugh he lets out this time has a little more life in it. “ I called you to hear you talk. . . Your voice is calming. ”

He says things like this and expects me not to feel warm inside?

“You need some calming?” I query.

“. . . Maybe .”

“Tell me, Toji.”

I can only picture Toji staring into nowhere to see if he wants to open up to me or not. Whatever he shares, I’ll take it and offer my comfort.

He sighs. “ Was trying to have small talk with the kid about school and I guess that annoyed him. ”

“What did he say?” I asked, knitting my brows together.

“ That he wanted to eat in silence, so he went to his room. ”

“He’ll come around.”

Toji snorts. “ Yeah, I hope so. Took him school shopping earlier and he didn’t even want to be seen with me. ”

“Did he tell you that?”

“. . . No, I just assumed .”

Although Toji isn’t physically here, I give him a reassuring smile like he could see me. “Assumptions will lead you to spiral. Next time try to be around him while keeping a comfortable distance,” I tell him. “I doubt it’s because he doesn’t want to be seen with you. I mean, Megumi is an exact replica of your face. It’s not like he can hide that you’re his dad.”

“ You’re good with your words, Y/N. ”

“I’m good at a lot of things, Mr. Fushiguro.” My tone came off way more suggestive than I expected but fuck it. I’ll blame the wine.

It’s like I can hear the smile on his face. “ You can’t say shit like that while calling me Mr. Fushiguro and expect me not to get turned on. ”

“And what if that was my intention? Maybe to help get your mind off of things?”

“ I can think of other ways for you to help. ”

“You called me for some late night action?” I begin baiting. “What’s next? You’re going to ask me what I’m wearing?”

“. . . No... Well, if you want to share- ”

I giggle, cutting him off. “Toji, anyways.” Hearing Toji genuinely laugh makes me feel better because I know how much mending his relationship with Megumi means to him. “I think you should continue with what you’re doing. I don’t know much about Megumi, but he seems like a kid that has to warm up. Even if you’re his dad, after years of neglect, comfort isn’t automatic because you’re blood. When he feels it, you’ll know.”

“You’re right.”

“Your mind feels cleared?” I try to contain my yawn, but it slips outs. I don’t want Toji to think he’s keeping me up because hearing from was actually the highlight of my day.

“ After this walk and talking to you? Yeah. ”

“Don’t think it’s too late for you to be walking?”

“ Worried about me, Y/N? ” He asks, and I can hear the playfulness in his tone.

I shrug. “Maybe. You’re a big boy, though. I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

“ I’m glad you know. ”

I admire the comfortable silence Toji and I have sometimes whenever we talk. In a way, and hopefully he feels the same, it’s like we’re soaking in each other’s energy. And maybe Toji does feel the same since he decided to call when he needed help clearing his mind.

“ I’m keeping you up, Miss L /N? ”

“Hm, I don’t mind giving you some of my time,” I pick on. “Just next time, schedule a conference.”

He keeps the banter, saying, “ I’ll be sure to do that. . . I’ll let you go, though. Need your energy saved for Friday. ”

“You’re going to put me to work on our date?”

“ You’ll see, ” he says, smiling. “ And Y/N? ”

I yawn again. “Yeah?”

“ Thank you. ” An explanation of his admission isn’t needed. I know exactly why he’s thanking me. “ Night .”

“Good night, big guy.”

After we disconnect, I smile and internally feel giddy inside. It’s almost embarrassing how Toji makes me feel. I can’t help myself.

Going to sleep will be easier these next few days knowing I have something to look forward to on Friday.

As I described before, Toji Fushiguro will definitely be a beautiful catalyst that I’m excited to see.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

discussion question #4 — reader has made it clear that she doesn't want to reconcile any romantic relationship with nanami anymore, do you think he will become an issue to reader and toji's developing relationship as the story progresses?

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hollyhomburg · 2 years

Text

Before I Leave you (Pt. 39)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae comes out, you confront jin about the mating marks, and jimin gets a forest sized stick shoved up his ass (not literally)

Pairings: Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin, Beta! Yoongi,

Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, Verbal arguments, Shame, Dysphoria, coming out, overly involved metaphors, talk of god/religion, Trans characters, Trauma, implied PTSD, talks of the m/c’s past suicide attempt in chapter 5, talk of sexuality, Pansexual! Jimin, implied autistic! Jimin, meltdowns,

W/c: 7.7k

A/n: Sorry in advance for being a meanie~ (author continues to be not sorry at all~) i will try my best to update next weekend as well so this cliffhanger doesn’t leave you wanting too much

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

(20 years prior, Jimin)

The sun is burning much too hot for the end of September- although the children in the schoolyard would never think to comment on it. Too busy chasing after kickballs like small brightly color planets and shouting ‘tag you’re it!” as loud as they can. Every inch of happiness accompanied by little feet pattering across the parking lot like the first fallen leaves of autumn. The cold hasn’t hit them yet.

The woods wait at the edge of the playground, an impenetrable fortress of green. Full of spiky bushes and icky things. Here, where civilization is butted right up against the edge of the wilderness, safety is carefully cultivated within chain link fences. Anything to keep the fun in and the fear out.

Two children sit on the swings apart from all the rest. The chains are rusty and squeaky but no less loved. Jimin loves to watch the forest move. He loves to watch the trees blur like faraway monsters dancing, lifting their silvery leaves to the wind and showing their undersides.

Tae knows Jimin likes it so that’s where they always sit, side by side like this at recess.

Although their relationship is not without their exchange, Jimin smiles down at his light-up shoes as he listens to Tae talk. Tae looks handsome as usual in his Pokémon tee-shirt- his chubby face already belying the beauty that he’ll have when he’s older. Jimin can see it, can feel the pitter-patter of his heart in response to it.

He might not know what love is yet, but he’s learning.

Tae sways the way that trees do at a distance, his movements all graceful. He knows Tae will be beautiful when he's older the same way he knows his parents are going to get divorced one day; his mother spends hours in the bathroom, plying and stretching and picking at the barely forming wrinkles on her face.

Aphrodite has a way of letting you know when she’s there, whether in hatred or in love.

Tae has told Jimin the Greek myths time and time again; he likes the tale of Achilles the best. But Jimin can’t read yet so Tae reads to him, Jimin always asks to hear the tale of Orpheus because that’s Tae’s favorite.

Jimin and Taehyung aren’t JiminandTaehyung yet, they won’t be for a few years more. But for now, Jimin watches Tae talk about his most recent book, cupids touch in every little blink.

“And then he just like- pulled him from the dragon’s mouth right before it could snap shut. It was kind of gross to read but I promise Minnie it was so romantic!”

Tae says it like it’s quite possibly the best thing. Like he’s just said, “I’ve won the lottery” or “I’ve saved the last fruit snack package for you” or, “my mom and your mom said we can move into the same room, we spend so much time with each other anyway, why should we dream in separate places when you are my dream?”

(Although the first is equally as unlikely as the last. Jimin and Taehyung’s parents continue to be a thorn in their sides and only let them have sleepovers twice a week during the school year.)

“You like reading a lot of books like that” Jimin comments, “books where the alpha’s a boy and the omega’s a boy.” Tae’s eyes are mini smiles when he glances up, drawing what looks to be a dragon’s tooth in the dirt with the edge of his shoe.

“Really?”

Jimin doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say what he wants struggling with his words the same way he always does (the same way that has his teachers exchanging pitying glances.)

“Do you like boys?” he blurts, and when Tae looks up, his cheeks are their normal color, not ruddy or pink like cupid might have kissed his skin. Not like Jimin who feels his cheeks flaming. “-Because I was thinking the other day when you asked me if I had a crush on any of the girls in our class, and I- I think I like boys.”

“Oh,” Tae says, “that’s okay, I think I like boys too.”

Taehyung’s mind dips, thinking thoughts of 'he doesn't like girls. But that's okay because Taehyung can be a boy if Jimin wants a boy.’ and Jimin’s mind gathers up thoughts of omega Tae and alpha Jimin and casts them in a Greek myth. Tae the omega in a pretty purple skirt- back when boy omegas didn’t dress like boys yet. And Jimin hums, satisfied by his daydream.

Later that night when his mother makes him pray (because Jimin’s mother is always making him do that) Jimin asks very very sincerely, as honestly as a 6-year-old can muster.

He perches on the edge of his lightning McQueen bedspread and whispers his small hopes to the heavens above. Starts that shine in all their coldness and give nothing easy to the boy below.

"Dear god. I’ve been thinking; I’ve got in mind some improvements you could make.

If you have a choice make me an alpha and TaeTae an omega. Whatever you do- don’t make us the same, please. I want to have Tae with me for a long long time and the world has a way of separating things that are the same. So please- if you do exist- make us different."

There wasn’t anything divine in that little bedroom, but I guess in a wicked way, god insisted.

~-~

(Now, You)

Sometime later, when the sun has dipped below the horizon and Jimin’s tireless pacing has stopped, you and Tae ready yourselves for what waits outside of the library room.

You stand in the half darkness barely a few inches apart, enswathed in the comfort you steal from each other regularly and know that it can’t last for long. Doomed and Starcrossed. The 8 by 10 walls that have been your safe place to be torn down soon, the resting place for this secret all vacant.

It’s all operating on borrowed time. After tonight everything will change (and only time will tell if it will be for the better.)

So you wait for just a few minutes more, and spend just a little longer enjoying each others company. You don’t want to let go of this just yet. You press yourself all along Tae’s side to comfort her and she shakes harder when your hands retract from her waist.

(Something about the space has you convinced that’s where your hands belong. You can’t deny that you’re drawn to the inches of honey skin above her hipbones. You have a way of knowing what parts of Tae don’t make her as dysphoric as the rest. Your touch like a breath of wind to a flame making her burn brighter.)

She pets over the back of your head as you look up at her. Cheek squished against her chest, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I think I will be, just-” her hand wraps with yours, her thumb rubbing over the back of it, warm and small and so so important. “Don’t let go, okay?”

“Never,” you promise.

You give her hand a single squeeze in promise and step forward to open the door (because you know Tae’s not strong enough to open it on her own) letting the light and the noise of tense conversations slip in. Tugging her unwilling form out into the open.

The pack is stands around the kitchen island in varying positions of distress. Usually by this time of night dinner would be underway; steam would be gathering in a haze above the burners, and half of the sink would be filled with cutting boards (because Jin somehow always manages to use every one of them when cooking). But instead, the light hangs too bright after your time spent in the darkness, the fluorescences stark and the air heavy with the scent of your packmates distress.

Hobi is the only one sitting, head in his hands and his fingers threaded in his dark hair. Namjoon’s hand hovers on his shoulder and squeezes at it lightly, fingers itching towards a scruff. Jin looks like he’s been through it, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair sticking up in the back, far from his usual vision of omega grace and beauty.

Hobi smells as unhappy as he did the night you almost left; the night where broken glass glittered on the floor where Yoongi stands now. Maybe you should have regarded it as a promise of more to come, but you’ve never believed in omens.

Jimin isn’t much better, twitching with wild jerky movements, anxiety made alive, Jungkook tries to talk to him and calm him down. the omega cups his cheeks, speaking to him in that low happy way that jungkook speaks when he’s nesting, but you can tell just from watching him for a few seconds that it’s having the opposite effect on Jimin.

Jimin needs something to bite, he’s biting his lip so hard it looks like he’s going to tear through it. Your mate is the first one to notice your reappearance, his head jerking in your direction.

You and Hobi make eye contact and it darts away as quickly as it came. His cheeks look puffy- like he’s been crying, and the guilt threatens to swallow you like a tidal wave.

It’s a good thing Jimin doesn’t immediately notice the closing of the door, his back to it. His words make you feel winded, “-So they’re mated- no shit.” Jimin says, “I don’t get why it’s a big deal.”

He can be a bit brutal sometimes, words like a blunt knife with the way that his brain makes sense of things. He’s so strung out on worry that his whole body shakes, everything from his knees knocking to his blonde hair trebling, all messed up like he’s been tugging at it.

Jungkook sighs when Jimin’s hands curl around his wrists and he pulls his hands away from his face, he stands with his shoulders curled in, watching Jimin like he’s waiting for him to break. “We have bigger problems like Tae- He’s-“

You shift your weight from one foot to another and Jimin whirls, eyes settling on Tae like she's the first bit of sunlight slipping over the horizon after a long long night.

Jin sips at his water from the sink, every little movement belying his anger. But it's flagging, forced and in-genuine. Jin will have to let it go sooner rather than later but you have more important things to focus on as Jimin stumbles to Tae’s side and the rest of the pack quiets.

“Tae baby- just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it- is it about the marks-“ his voice goes a little less frantic, a little more measured. He reaches out to touch her and lets out a heartbreaking whine when Tae flinches back from her soulmate's touch.

You never thought you'd have to step between the two of them, but you find yourself doing just that. Hiding Tae from view because she already looks like she wants to dash back inside the library room and hide some more.

Jimin’s eyes flicker down to yours just briefly but he doesn’t look angry about it- no- if you had to pick one word to describe Jimin’s look it would be impressed. But there isn’t space for much else but panic when it comes to Tae’s sadness and Jimin's tireless anxiety.

Maybe it should hurt more, the fact that Jimin doesn’t really care about you right now. (But maybe you’d be a hypocrite if you complained because Tae is also your priority).

Jungkook huffs, “Would you stop hyper-fixating on Tae for a second” and remember that you have 6 other packmates he means to say, but you send him a single withering look. You don’t think that anyone needs to cut Jimin down more, this is hard enough. Jimin barely even turns at Jungkook’s bitten words.

“No, it’s not that. I’ve known about the marks for a while.” (The night you exchanged your secrets holds a special place in Tae's heart. Tae hadn’t been prepared to give you anything- much less the love that burns through her now. But that hadn’t stopped you giving her your all.)

Tae’s confession makes more than one packmate straighten up, Jin narrows his eyes accusingly but avoids your gaze.

Tae’s glance down at you is more steadying than you’d ever admit. Makes you feel surer as you square your stance against Jimin. You reach to touch Jimin’s hand, stopping at the last second letting him decide if he wants to touch your right now, after a second he moves to take it, although his worn palms feel clammy.

“Minnie, would you just come and sit for a second? Can we just- can we talk?”

Jimin has eyes for only Tae- but it’s Jin who sighs after a breath, quieting Minnie with a touch to his shoulder. You wish people would stop touching Jimin without asking right now, everything about his body-language indicates someone who doesn’t want to be touch.

Jin looks at you from under his bangs, not saying a word. The cold hurt in his eyes startles you. It’s not quite detached, but you have never seen Jin so quiet with his sadness before nor have you ever been in a position with him where you can’t offer comfort.

Every footstep he makes towards the table has your anxiety climbing higher and higher. He pulls out two chairs, the shrill sound of the legs dragging on the wood loud in the quiet, and gestures for you and Tae to sit.

You gulp.

The silence is heavy, punctuated by listless murmurs and the quieter squeaks of the other chairs as you all sit. No one dares disobey the pack omega right now. Yoongi sits on your side at the head of the table and Tae sits on the other. Jungkook takes the other seat beside Tae between him and Namjoon at his usual spot at the other head of the table. Jimin, Hobi, and Jin file in at the opposite side, an impenetrable wall of anxious scents.

Jimin looks like he's going to jump out of his skin, too much feeling rocketing through his little body to keep still. Next to him, Hobi folds his arms. Jin starts to retort something and start on the mating marks but you interrupt him.

“What Tae and I need to tell you is more important to you than any of that- I promise. Would you mind just sitting for a second?” It takes no small amount of bravery for you to keep Jin's eye contact even as he glares.

He’s angry, but it doesn’t make him any less in love or proud of you, any other day he'd be beaming to see you stick up for yourself like this, Jin looks away to sate his mounting guilt. Minnie’s knee jumps up and down rapidly under the table, listlessly stimming. Your mate sends you a tiny look, just a furrowed brow in confusion.

Because Yoongi doesn’t know this secret either, this one will be just yours and Tae’s for only a second longer. You straighten your back- begging yourself to be strong- to do this well for her.

You sit at the table in silence for a few seconds and it’s hard not to just come out and say it, to rip off the metaphorical band-aid. The sentence ‘Tae is transgender’ hovers on the tip of your tongue.

If you ever had to wonder if your love made a difference, it’s now as Tae sits up straighter. She looks like she’s trying to be brave, a girl growing into her thorns. Your knuckles are white with how hard she’s squeezing them.

Jin isn’t looking at you. Jin isn’t looking at you at all and it makes you angry. The overhead lights buzz in the quiet, and Jin’s ire distracts you from your primary purpose in this- which is to help Tae come out.

Your voice comes quieter than you thought it would when you finally speak. “When I first came here- when I first met you all I was so terrified.”

It’s a confession, but not the one they’d been expecting. Your sudden honesty eases more than one tense packmate as you tip your face, closing your eyes to better remember the fear. You’d been so paralyzed the first few times you’d met them. For the first time since finding out about the mating mark Jin looks at you without anger clouding his eyes.

“Terrified that you’d hate me for everything I did to you- what I took from you without even knowing you- that you’d want to hurt me for it- take your pick. You couldn’t count the things I was scared of, but I wasn’t scared that you wouldn’t like me for who I was. That was easy to count on.”

The room is as quiet as a tomb when you look at them through heavy-lidded eyes. Quiet with your anguish because it has never mattered much to you. maybe its a testament to how much love has changed you because Jin’s lack of concern stings as he remains unreadable.

Your eyes lock with his and you lean over the table. “I know you love us but I don’t think you get it Jin, I think you play all high and mighty but you don’t fucking understand. Do you know that I begged Yoongi to let me die? Rather than let him mark me?”

Jin looks away, Namjoon makes a strained noise in his throat- half a growl half a noise of discomfort. Hobi stays quiet. Tae’s hand goes harder in yours. It’s one thing to know and another to hear you say it.

A cold chill settles over the room and no one feels it as strongly as you and Yoongi. “Would you rather that have happened Jin? Because I would have. I wanted to. Yoongi and the mark is the only reason why I'm still breathing."

“Pup-” He starts, but you interrupt him again, this time it doesn’t get you a glare.

“If you want to be angry that i’m alive- get in line. But I don’t want to hear it. I can’t-” Yoongi takes your other hand. Smoothing over your knuckles with both of his, Tae tugs her chair closer to yours so that your hips touch.

Hoseok sits watching you. There is a furious sort of honesty in your face, people don't lie and joke about these things, but you're so factual with it. laying it out in stark terms because to describe how it was with any emotion is to surrender yourself to the flood of it. Hobi knows better than most how unfair it can be, unable to feel what you want to feel.

The memory runs through him- you in the front seat of Jimin's car, looking breakable and worn. ‘Do I really even want this life if it's going to be this way? When it hardly feels like I’m living at all.’

You’ve never said it out loud- you’ve never told them of your weakest moment like this. Was it a moment of true weakness? Or one of pure strength? To keep going when everything told you not to.

Everything but Yoongi.

Jin can handle a lot of things but hearing you say that isn’t one of them, Jin feels like he’s going to cry for every reason and no reason at all. The feelings in him all cut up and finely minced. All the guilt and wanting and hurt a mixed bowl of ingredients with no soup to be added to. Too much love and not enough anger, not like before. Jin feels it melt away as he watches you and Yoongi.

“I’m sorry.” Jin says, inhaling unevenly like he’s trying not to cry.

He’s never seen you like this before, and the second the words slipped from your lips the same second he wish he’d never reacted. He wishes he’d never found the key to the upstairs, that he’d never thought to be angry at you for this.

It’s a reminder not to think with your instincts first if anything, Jin reacted without the proper information and although you don’t look like you’re going to hold it against him- he almost wishes you might. But pain can’t always pay for pain, now when you love someone. You hurting Jin won’t make him feel any less guilty.

Which is why you ignore his apology.

You still don't know how to think about it, what you almost did. But whatever death brings you doubt you'd have been quite so happy as you are here;

You wouldn't have had the soft kisses pressed to your forehead every morning, you wouldn't know what it felt like to wake up and be safe. You wouldn't have had felt laughter and happiness that built its way into your chest the same way love builds other works of art. You wouldn't have Tae.

Every minute spent living in this house has been a treasure.

Yoongi’s heart races and he closes his eyes rather than remember the moment. The ache of watching you almost die never stops throbbing in his chest. Yoongi's not sure if it will ever stop hurting or if he'll ever stop feeling thankful that you hadn't tried after.

That had been your one suicide attempt, Your only one. Although there had been other moments in the months that followed that had made him nervous that you might try again. When the days had stretched with you neither speaking nor eating.

Acts of desperation like that have a way of sticking to you. A separate kind of trauma comes from something that you do to yourself.

For a moment- you want to let go of Tae’s hand, the clamminess too similar to how your palms felt tacky with blood. For a moment you’re back there; the smell of gunpowder (it’s unfortunate that Jimin’s unhappy scent smells so similar) and burning blood on the air, a terrible blackness in your chest begging you to lie your head down and just go.

You lift your face, and the light cuts across it jaggedly. “When you guys moved in it didn't take long to realize I wasn’t the only one afraid, once Tae and I started to hang out in the library room-”

You’re meandering towards the point, but your pain and Tae’s are dreadfully similar. Both of you hadn’t shared this secret because you were afraid it would incur a lack of love.

“It was just before my rut,” Tae says, finally breaking her silence, encouraging you by ducking close and rubbing her cheek on the top of your head in comfort, a small scent mark, “Wait- Do you think that’s what triggered it?”

You huff a soft breath, and even though it feels out of place it is no less sweet when you bump your head into Tae’s shoulder. “Maybe,” you say, though you guess you’ll never know for sure. What if it was the catalyst? Was your love the thing that finally made her body bend to its instincts?

A truck on your street slams its door and it shocks you all making you flinch. Jimin actually growls, turning to the door like he might go start shouting at it.

Namjoon leans back in his chair, his hand going to the back of Jimin’s neck, rubbing over it mindlessly to calm the other alpha down. His legs crossed, jutting his chin out at you as if to say ‘go on pup, you’re doing fine.’

Your heart pulses frantically in your chest and you hold onto Tae’s hands tighter. “It didn’t take long for it to become a habit and we-”

“Can you just spit it out,” Jimin snaps desperately, fear rocketing through him so violently he can't stay still, rocking back and forth like a ship in a storm. “Please.”

Tae's hand a vice around yours, her breath coming all quick and tiny beside you.

“I’m trying to say that Tae’s a girl, she’s been a girl for as long as you’ve known her and she just didn’t want to say. We started, exploring her gender a few months ago with makeup and clothes and stuff. She didn’t realize that’s what she was- that’s what she could be if she wanted until- until I helped her in the library.”

(There is none of that shit about being born in the wrong body because it's not just that. To be a butterfly that only looks like a moth, or a flower and a weed. No metaphor does it justice- how it feels to compromise in such a way that betrays your nature. The near daily humiliation that a soul can feel so keenly).

You let go of Yoongi’s hands and reach across the table to try and take Jimin’s, but he snatches them back just as quickly. Tae's eyes are screwed shut, not willing to watch the pack fall apart because of her, unwilling to wait and see the precise way that her pack falls apart with this knowledge. Because of that- she misses the way the whole table freezes-

And then relaxes.

Now that it’s out you can’t stop yourself from rambling, “-And she does want to be a girl, she is a girl- we hid it from you- not because she didn’t trust you but because she just wanted to be sure- And I guess she’s sure now- She didn’t want to cut her hair but she didn’t want to come out yet- which is why it made her sad- and that why she was crying when you came home and-”

"Pup- breathe," you're nearly hyperventilating, unable to disobey Namjoon’s command as you gasp.

The knot between Jin and Namjoon's shoulders eases and the pack alpha actually cracks a relieved smile. (What- with the way that you and her were so knit together- Namjoon honestly expected levels of unintended pregnancy catastrophic. This by comparison, is much easier to mitigate.)

Yoongi’s looking at Tae with fresh eyes, not surprised or shocked at all- just soft with how you glare at all of them, how your face says ‘say anything transphobic and I’ll end you’ without you speaking a word. Even though you and Jimin are shaking like puppies confronted with a vacuum monster.

Jungkook's mouth makes a little ‘oh’ and so does Hobi’s. Jungkook gives Tae a few of his wide-eyed bunny blinks. The anxiety builds, thrumming until a small sob slips past her lips, you remedy it almost instantly winding your body around hers.

Jimin feels like there's an avalanche falling over him, his skin freezing as the cold truth washes his body clean of warmth, leaving his tongue numb. Brain fissioning, neurons tearing themselves apart as they rewire themselves to account for new information. The very axis of his world shifted a few degrees to make the summers and springs longer and the winters and falls brief.

Tae speaks, because while your words were pretty- they’re not her own. And hearing you say it makes her own mouth feel less vivid with fear. Her eyes remain fixed on your clasped hands. You haven’t let go of them once, just like you promised.

“Once I really started living with you it was like I couldn’t stop feeling it. It was so painful to see you for those first few weeks.” your cute mouth tugs into a frown, another reminder. Tae wonders if she’ll ever stop feeling jealous of you.

“You got to be pretty and soft in the way I wanted to be, you got to be loved in the way I’ve always wanted to be loved. Dysphoria is- fuck- it’s fucking terrible, and I couldn’t avoid it no matter how hard I tried.”

You’ve talked about it before; you tuck yourself more firmly around Tae like you can banish it with just your body. You’ll never stop apologizing for that- for how you’d made her feel bad just by being you.

But you have nothing to apologize for, because even with the dysphoria you make it feel so much better, so much easier to bear. Tae shivers remembering that her reflection doesn’t look the same as it did this morning, the short and blunt cut edges of her hair hitting the tops of her ears a needle-like reminder. She’ll probably avoid mirrors for a while, she wonders if Jin would let her put something over the one in the bathroom.

Yoongi stretches out his hand, tentatively taking Tae’s other one. His hands are so strong, but they're still smaller than Tae's. Tae has the largest hands out of everyone in the pack- the ones that are best for holding. But it's not like your tiny palm in his other.

Oh, what Tae wouldn't give to be tiny like you. Even now, the dysphoria rages like a pink-edged storm. The silver lining is all mauve.

Tae finds the same usual smile on Yoongi's face, gentler maybe. “What does it feel like? The dysphoria, I want to understand it.”

Tae lifts your hand, pressing your knuckles over her heart, “it feels like you’re rotting- right here. At best- that’s what it feels like. Like you're dying and there's nothing that anyone can do, nothing that anyone can fix. Or like you’re bleeding out but only you can see it.”

Hobi speaks for the first time, rubbing a finger against his lower lip, “and at worst?” Tae flinches and doesn't answer his question.

Every little pained breath that comes from Tae’s mouth feels like a dagger cutting through Jimin’s viscera, dissecting him. Here take out the ribs first- they’ve grown all strange and gnarled. Why would a thing that loves have grown claws?

The table falls silent, no one has any words for it, the realization that someone they held so dear has been hurting for so long. Jin swallows back a lump in his throat when he realizes you’re right; this is a lot more important than the mating marks.

Oh Tae.

To hide this for so long, to hurt for so long right in front of them- Jin’s rarely ever so frantic, to make things right. “Tell us Tae- tell us how to keep you from feeling that way, fuck- I feel like an asshole for not noticing- Is- do you need- What can we do? Please? I-“ he breaks off, for the first time, lost for words.

Tae bites her lower lip, the words all shaky. “I know that this is a lot to hear. I know that you might not- like it as much. I know that I’m not- that I don’t look like-"

Jungkook is ever the mood maker, perhaps sensing how everyone is about to devolve into tears, “Does that mean you’re gonna call them all Oppa now? Cuz thats so cute I might get jealous. Should we call you Taenoona instead of Taehyung or do you just wanna keep the same name-”

You've never scolded Jungkook before, “Koo-”

But Jungkook’s smile is mischievous and lovely, he leans back, crossing his arms behind his head, stretching and flexing them in his black tee-shirt. “You’re all really bad at keeping secrets you know. Every single one of you."

“What are you talking about?”

Jungkook stretches his arm around you to squeeze Tae’s cheek. It blooms pink beneath his touch. Jungkook’s grin is all bunny teeth, boyish and gorgeous. Being on the receiving end of such a grin makes the dysphoria ebb just a little.

“Tae, who does the laundry in this house?”

“You.” You’re all intimately aware of Junkgook’s near dogmatic ritual. How he dumps all your clothes together and then lifts them one by one to sort them, everything but underwear and socks gets sorted this way, because Jungkook loves the pack's scents, loves to almost nest with them in the basement. you’ve found him asleep in a pile of laundry in the basement before. It's a little gross sometimes, but Jungkook's your little laundry bunny.

Jungkook reaches again, to pinch at your scent gland, and you swat his hand away- annoyed. “And do you know who all your new dresses smell like?”

You look back at him so quick it almost gives you whiplash, “You knew?”

Jungkook leans over, nudging Namjoon’s shoulder. “Sucky secret keepers, the lot of them.”

The pack alpha turns his eyes on Tae then, smiling at her, "I'm so happy you told us Tae, seriously. Thank you for being honest,” It's Tae's turn to be surprised, blinking owlishly at the pack alpha. blushing at the attention. tae lets go of your hand for the first time when she grabs both of namjoon’s, “I know it must have taken you a lot of bravery to tell us this, but I promise we won't disappoint you."

Hobi swallows thickly, nodding in agreement with Namjoon. “So- about the Taenoona thing- is Tae fine? Or I there something else that you want to be called? A more feminine name?”

Tae’s cheeks are two round pink peaches, blushing as the pack alpha looks at her so plainly, barely able to keep herself from smiling, heart thudding with the knowledge that oh- this actually- this isn’t terrible. This is actually going kind of well.

“i’ve never thought about it really, but I think Tae’s better than taehyung, I like being called Tae.” It might have something to do with the way that your mouth moves around that syllable, all pink and rosy cute, that makes something in Tae’s tummy flutter. It’s hard to feel dysphoric about something that sounds so sweet. “It’s not like the hair thing, ‘Tae’ doesn’t give me dysphoria,”

Jin runs his hands over his face,“Fuck, your hair, I’m so sorry pup-“

“S’not your fault Jinnie. You didn’t know.” Tae bites her plush lips. “I’m sorry for startling everyone when I got home.”

“Do you want to dye it? Is there anything we can do?” Jin turns to you, because you’ve been a woman for longer, and you’ve helped Tae with this up until this point and you don’t have to do this alone again. For the first time in your relationship they're learning how to love from you. “Are wigs an option? Would they help?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

"There's always extensions," Jungkook comments, definitely not mentioning one of his private clients got them caught in an exercise machine once and thats the only reason why he knows about them.

You turn back to Tae, “Do you want to try?”

Jimin’s brain is narrowed down to the one person that has always mattered the most. Blood and love rush through his ears that block out your banter. The wave builds until it bursts. Jimin tries, tries his hardest to speak and hold it back. but things are happening so quickly- when Jimin is still reeling from your words and Tae's too.

“Maybe just, hair dye? Pink might be nice. I think it might help, with the dysphoria.”

"You'd look so cute with pink."

Jungkook tucks his feet beneath his body, "Wait if you get pink hair I might actually want it too."

Namjoon reaches over, running his hand through Yoongi’s blonde mop “you know you could do it like really easily.”

Yoongi shrugs off Namjoon's comment, all plucky and put upon but loving it, “if it will make Tae happy then you can drag me there right now.”

"It could be like- couples colors!"

Jimin’s voice is so quiet, so aching, but no less pained, fingers digging into the table so hard that his nail-beds ache. Tae would hear Jimin’s voice even if it happening in a downpour, thunder and lightning, nothing is quite as earth shattering as ire from someone you love.

“Why?”

Tae's a little too excited, however, to properly guess at Jimin's question. She tugs at a lock of her hair, staring not at him, but down at your clasped hands with a soft smile. “I think that maybe it’s like- a color thing. I've never been allowed to like pink you know so maybe it’s-“

“No that’s not- that’s not what I’m asking,” Jimin waves his hand flippantly and your mouth hardens into a line. “I’m not asking why, what I’m asking is why the fuck you neglected to tell me this till now."

Everyone around the table stills, the fun, and joy of all of it extinguished in a moment as Jimin watches Tae, his eye swimming with tears, heartbreaking over her.

"Tae- why didn’t you say anything?”

Tae flinches, and you struggle not to jump down Jimin’s throat for his tone alone. Tae’s voice is pleading, and oh

Oh, she realizes, maybe her fear wasn’t all for nothing. Maybe the hope of the last few moments had only hurt her more. Because the rest of the pack is accepting but Minnie-

Minnie's glaring, and it’s a good thing that Tae knows what he looks like when he's about to cry. Jimin's eyebrows knit together like they're gates to hold back the flood.

Tae lets go of Namjoon's hand and reaches for Jimin’s but this time- it’s the other alpha that declines his touch. Even when Jimin's overstimulated, he can usually handle touches from Tae, but not right now. Now Jimin's skin burns.

“Minnie you- you like boys. You only liked boys until her. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid that you wouldn’t-”

Jimin holds up a hand, stopping her, “Don’t you dare say you were afraid that I wouldn't love you Tae. Don’t throw my love for you back at my feet over something as simple as fear." Jin's eyes are brown and guilty when they meet Yoongi's, and the beta holds his glance.

The first time Jimin uttered the words ‘I think I like boys’ was the first time that Tae's heart broke. But child hurts are often adult wounds and Tae and Jimin are bleeding all over the floor with this.

"Minnie-" Jin begs, Namjoon reaches over to scruff the alpha but Jimin swats his hands away, moving so quickly you would have thought Namjoon’s touch was poison.

Jimin’s crying, wet cheeks, and wet eyelashes too. “It’s always been you Tae- Do you think so lowly of me that I wouldn’t love you? Is this a joke to you? Am I a joke to you?” the feeling rockets through him so hard that he stands, chair skitters back, falling upended. Your hand goes cold as Tae leaves you.

Tae tries to hold him, to grab him, but Jimin swats her hands away. Crying too hard to see. “Minnie no- I was just- I just didn’t want to tell you yet. I was just worried-”

“Don’t you dare lie to me Kim Tae-” the second syllable of that dies in Jimin’s throat. “How could you think that I wouldn’t love you? No matter who you wanted to be or what color you wanted to dye your fucking hair!" Jimin can't get his words out around his sobs, near incoherent. "You’ve been hurting for years and you just- you let me hurt you. When that was the one thing you where never supposed to let me do. Love isn't supposed to hurt!”

(That is perhaps the most bitter lie isn't it? That it is the people who love you who often hurt you the worst.)

“Do you remember what you told me when we were kids Minnie?” Tae's voice shakes. “You were always gay Jimin- You always liked boys, so don’t you dare blame me for choosing you over me! Not when you would have done the same!”

Jimin is crying, hands closing and opening rhythmically by his sides. Jin makes to stand and get between them but you shoot him a look. This isn’t a fight that any of you can have for Jimin and Tae. No matter how bad you want to get in-between them.

“Would you have ever told me? Would you have ever told us? If it wasn’t for her?” Jimin’s finger jabbing in your direction makes you flinch and Yoongi's jaw ticks.

Tae is lost for words. Silent and standing there, unwilling to answer.

“I see, once you saw me love her you- you-“ Jimin sounds almost sick at the words. That someone he loves has been hurting because of him. All this time, Years and years of pain that are all his fault.

“If you think I wouldn’t love you th-then-“ Jimin’s hands are shaking so violently, and you know a breakdown when you see one. he runs his hands through his hair and yanks. "I love you- you know I love you!” he cries “none of this would change that- no matter what! That's what we agreed on! That we’d love each other Tae- fuck- Tae."

Tae and Jimin have always been cradle to grave. They have always been soulmates. Jimin thought that counted for something. But this isn’t just anything. Tae let herself hurt for the sake of Jimin’s worldview and that is something that Jimin cannot forgive- or at least can’t forgive easily. Tae was always supposed to be both of their priorities. That was their agreement.

Tae’s voice breaks, “You love me yeah? Well you haven’t said it in weeks Minnie.” It’s the wrong thing to say. No allegation would make Jimin angrier than the idea that he doesn’t love Tae to the fullest extent that he’s capable of.

He's lost for words mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. When they were younger the words used to fall from Jimin's lips as often as rain, but now that they've been together for so long they say them less frequently. The same is true with Jin and Namjoon. Years in love can make you sloppy but Jimin can’t find the words anything other than wounding.

Jimin’s teeth grind against each other, "People don't just say I love you.”

"They say 'bring your jacket it's cold out’ and 'I made you lunch' before you even say you're hungry, or they know your favorite coffee cup without asking and never take it even though they made the coffee first.” Tae does that for you- you realize. You didn’t think that Jimin had been keeping track.

“People don't just say I love you or just love you as a singular act, they don't skip your favorite song even if they hate it, and they act crazy when you get sick” Jungkook and Hoseok flush. “Or they pretend not to notice when you've got a bit of broccoli stuck in your teeth.” Namjoon huffs. Jimin might not understand this yet, but he does understand love.

“They learn what kind of jokes are your favorite and get better at telling them on purpose- people love you on purpose.” The upstairs room aches with Yoongi's many hours, how many moments of his life has he spent on it? He couldn't say those moments were poorly spent, any moment spent in love is worth it.

“They learn to make a big deal out of the things that are big for you and not to bother when the annoyance is slight because every annoyance should be slight when it comes to someone you love." Jin's arms wrap around his waist tighter.

(People don't just say I love you- they promise things like I will give you smile lines and laugh lines if it kills me, I will carve wrinkles into your face with the force of my love, and hand you a pen when you want to write you name on my heart.)

"They don't just say I love you, they show it. And I’ve shown you it with everything I’ve ever done, every breath I’ve ever taken- so please- please don’t say I didn’t love you enough for you to come to me with this, be honest with me. Because I did. You know I did."

You and Jin share a long angsty look across the table. Your and Yoongi’s hands remain clasped and the omega crosses his arms. Defiant with it- although you never expected him to love you without it.

There is more to be settled here.

“I love you so much I can't stand it. Maybe if I loved you less I’d be able to think more rationally about this, but Tae- I can't- I can't breathe around how much love I have for you. And maybe that’s why this hurts so fucking much, that I’m so in pain by loving you and yet, you don't believe me. You never did otherwise you would have just said something-"

But instead of agreeing Tae shakes her head, lips screwing into something like a snarl. Alpha aggression is a volatile thing and Namjoon almost gets up to scruff them even though it would be inappropriate. He can’t bear to see them hurt each other like this.

Her short bangs barely budge “knowing someone loves you isn't just trusting them not to hurt you Minnie. I respect what we had, and whatever you want from me now I'll accept- even if it's nothing. I’ve been hurting over this for years That’s why I didn't tell you- I didn't tell you because I know you love me. Not despite it. I’m sorry but I couldn't risk losing you."

“Bullshit-“ Jimin sobs, a wild and broken thing that just about wrenches his heart clean out of his chest. Tae’s love has always made Jimin human and now he’s nothing but something wriggling and miserable. Slimy in his sadness, unwanted at its core.

“Bullshit- Tae- I’ve never- I couldn’t-”

One second the emotion is rocketing through him bright as a comet and the next, Jimin goes so still it's frightening. Like a supernova, one moment all the mass in the universe spread out and the next it has narrowed down to a single point of anger and pain.

If Jimin had a heart, he’d remove it and leave it at Tae’s feet. There is no use for Jimin’s love if Tae doesn’t want it and is committed to miss-understanding it. there is no Jimin without tae.

Tae pretends it doesn’t hurt when Jimin walks away.

He passes by her without even a brush of her hand or a goodbye kiss. Tae pretends her heart doesn’t break as she watches him grab his coat and walk out the front door, grabbing his keys too. She pretends it doesn’t hurt that he doesn’t look back, that she’s left in the kitchen with the warm yellow lights cutting wounds across her face.

6 other people in the room, and the only one that she wants to comfort her right now- gone.

He leaves her standing there by the center island, alone like a ship in a dark sea, the last light winking out. It's not worth it, It's not worth being a woman if it means I don't get to love you, I'll take it back, I'll take it back if it means you'll still love me.

The front door slams shut.

~-~

(Next chapter Coming Next Saturday September 24th at 5pm EST)

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sirianasims · 3 months

Text

I listened to Myra’s slow breathing. Her mom had taken us out to dinner at a fancy vegan restaurant to celebrate Myra’s birthday and then we’d watched a movie. It was tradition. It had been a nice day until we were in bed and Myra started another tirade against the popular kids in school.

I didn’t know what to say. She still didn’t know about the party last weekend, and I didn’t want to argue with her but I couldn’t quite bring myself to agree with her anymore. She ended up giving me the silent treatment until she fell asleep.

I quietly got up and went to the bathroom. It was dark, but Myra and I had been best friends since kindergarten when her parents moved to Copperdale so her dad could work with my dad. I knew their house like it was my own.

I washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. Was it really so bad to want more friends? To be a part of a group? Maybe I really was just a superficial person who wanted everyone to like me. I definitely wanted Oscar to like me. We hadn’t kissed since the party but we were messaging on Social Bunny every day, and yesterday we’d locked eyes across the hallway and I had to look away before Myra noticed.

The lights were still on downstairs. Myra’s mom never went to bed before her dad came home from the hospital. My own mom did the same.

I quietly walked down the stairs and Daria looked up from her laptop.

“Can’t sleep? Is Myra snoring again?”

“No, I’m just thinking a lot.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I told her about the Spooky Day party. Somehow it had always been much easier to talk to Myra’s parents than to my own.

I did leave out the part about Oscar though.

“So since then I’ve been posting a few pictures of other costumes I’ve made. And now some people are asking for tips and I thought it would be fun to maybe make a channel and stream the process or something. Or make tutorials and post them online.”

“That sounds like a great idea! I’ve always been impressed with the stuff you come up with.”

“But what if Myra sees it as me just trying to be popular?”

“And what exactly is wrong with being popular? She should be supporting you in whatever makes you happy. Myra has a lot of strong opinions, Griffin stubbornly insists she gets it from me. But don’t let her hold you back.”

“Myra says having people like you online is dumb because they’re not real friends anyway.”

“Sometimes I think my darling daughter forgets what I do.”

Daria gestured towards her computer.

“My podcast has a couple hundred thousand listeners. Are they all my friends? No. But some of them have actually become friends, because sharing what you love with a community that likes the same thing is a great way to meet people. You can even teach others and inspire them to share their own passions. I think you would do great, and I know you’re talented. But don’t take it from me, take if from those girls at school, because I’m probably too old and hopelessly uncool to listen to.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Daria was the coolest person I knew, second only to my grandpa Conrad. They didn’t care what people thought about them, but unlike Myra, they also didn’t spend hours talking about how little they supposedly cared.

Daria was telling me all about her podcasting gear when Myra’s father, Griffin, came home.

“Evening, my love. Oh, hey Julia, you’re up late.”

“Hey Griffin. You’re right, I should probably go to bed.”

“Alright, let us know if Myra’s snoring gets too bad, we still have spare earplugs.”

He winked at me.

“And remember, we love to see what you do, Julia. So you’re guaranteed at least two followers who are also real friends.”

She stood, but then leaned down and kissed my forehead, just like she used to do when Myra and I were little.

“Goodnight, kiddo. Don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life, OK? Not even my dear daughter. Always be yourself. And if you want more tips on getting a proper recording setup, just ask me.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #myra hart #daria moon #griffin hart

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spicywhenspeaking · 6 months

Text

If Im There: Chapter Five

read from part one

Noah x OFC Natalie

Warnings : none! Just family drama and Noah being the BEST BOYFRIEND!

Also! while Noah is based on a real person this is a work of fiction and I just made most of this up in my brain! Also I finished this with out my beta reader so it’s edited only by me! if you see a typo, no you didn’t.

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

“What are you doing here Dad?” I’m shocked to see him after all this time, it's been four years since he just left.

“Well Jelly, your mom called and told me about what's been going on and asked me to come and talk to you and your brother” he stands from the couch and moves closer to me at the front of the door.

“What exactly did mom tell you?” I ask, looking towards my mom who's staring at the floor.

“She told me that you and your brother have been fighting, that you didn't even spend the weekend here. You were with some boy? That doesn't sound like you at all Jelly Bean”

My mind races trying to decide what to address first.

“Kyle and I weren't fighting dad, he attacked me. Twice. Last time with his hands around my throat so tight I thought he was killing me. We’re siblings, yelling at each other should be normal, but him slapping me? him throwing me to the ground choking me out? That’s insane! And I wasn't spending the night with just some boy. Noah is my boyfriend, and he was there for me after Kyle attacked me, not that I feel the need to explain myself to you.” There is an unmasked anger in my voice.

“Why do you think you just get to show up after all this time and reprise your role? You left us, Dad, you have no right to stand here and question me.”

“Jelly-”

“And stop calling me that.” I bristle “It's Natalie, I'm not your little Jelly Bean anymore”

Kyle snickers under his breath and whispers “Yeah, I'm sure Noah made sure of that this weekend”

I balk at his crude remark. “You’re a pig, Kyle.” He is such an asshole.

“Noah didn't do anything to me this weekend aside from get me the hell away from you”

“This isn't about this Noah boy” my dad speaks up. “This is about the two of you getting along”

“I don't understand how I'm getting lumped into this.” I feel like I'm losing my mind.

“I'm in trouble because Kyle hit me? Choked me?”

“You're not in trouble sweetie” my mom finally says something “I called your dad because I thought he could help your brother.”

“How are you planning on helping him?”

They tell me that they've decided since there's only a few weeks left of the school Kyle will take his finals early and leave with our dad to work with him at his construction company for the summer. Dad hopes the physical labor will help with his aggression, and give him an outlet for his anger or something.

“You both turn 18 in a few weeks so it's good timing. He'll be 18 once his training is finished so it's all legit.” My dad reasons but mostly with himself because I genuinely don't care, seems like our parents are doing what they do best and sweeping things under the rug. Dad gets cheap labor for his job site and mom will go back on the night shift and pretend I don't need a mom.

“So when are you leaving?” I ask.

“We need a few days to work everything out with the school, but we plan to leave Thursday morning,” Dad informs me.

“What do you think about all of this?” I finally addressed Kyle.

He pauses and thinks for a minute. “ I’m fine with it, I feel like I have no control over my emotions. It's like one second I'm fine and the next I don't know what happened and I'm holding my sister to the ground. I feel sick about it.” he looks like my brother again. “I’ll go with Dad and work and I'll do the therapy once a week while I'm there.” He's looking at me and noticing the fading marks on my neck from last week. “It kills me that I hurt you sissy, I don't want to be this person.”

We sit in the living room and chat awkwardly for a few more minutes before I excuse myself.

“I really should go study for my finals.” I stand up and tell them. My dad approaches to hug me, I freeze but my hands return to wrap around him. “Okay, sweetie. I love you” he tells me and I turn to head up the stairs towards my room.

Seeing my dad for the first time in so long is shocking, but, if I'm honest with myself I'm almost numb to all the shit with my family lately. I just don't have enough space in me anymore for any of this.

Once I'm upstairs in my room I immediately text Noah everything.

Noah: what? the. fuck. 5:30

Noah: are you okay? that's a lot to happen on top of everything else. 5:30

Natalie: honestly. I don't know what to feel. 5:32

Natalie: he just shows up after all of this time, and we just become a happy family again? One family meeting and all is forgiven? And he's just taking Kyle? I guess it's probably best for both of us to be away from each other it's just…I don't know. 5:32

Natalie: He drops everything to come to take Kyle away, doesn't even mention the attacks. What is that? Ugh so fucking frustrating. 5:32

Natalie: Trying to think of pros…a summer with no Kyle, a birthday I don't have to share with Kyle, you could actually hang out at my house if he's not here. 5:33

Natalie: maybe it's not all bad. 5:34

Natalie: okay. Wow. I even ramble in text. 5:34

Noah: I think it's cute when you ramble, even in text. 5:36

Noah: I'm so sorry you're dealing with all of this Natty, I can't imagine what it feels like to have your dad just show back up again. Do you need anything? 5:37

Noah: Also, when's your birthday? Honestly pissed at myself for not already having this precious information filed away. 5:37

Natalie: thank you, Noah, I'm okay, I just want to study and blast music in my ears until all I can think about is world history and all the bones in the human body. And then I have to finish my art final project. 5:38

Natalie: my birthday is May 20! Taurus :) 5:39

Noah: ugh I love it when you talk nerdy. 5:41

Noah: OMG! That's so soon! Okay. Filed away and saved foreverrr, keep the day free because we are going out. 5:43

Natalie: deal ;D now I should really study, these finals are going to suuuuck. 5:45

Noah: Okay smarty, good luck studying, I'm trying to perfect this chord progression and then I will have created the best song ever XD. 5:47

Natalie: can't wait to hear it! <3 5:47

I place my phone on the charger and hit play on my CD player and the CD Noah got me started playing at a medium volume, filling my room with the sound of “The Comedown” by Bring Me The Horizon.

Thursday is here before I blink and just like that Kyle is packing and leaving with my dad. He awkwardly hugs me before leaving, which I halfway return. My mom goes back to the night shift the next day.

Noah and I hung out again that weekend. I'm mostly studying and he's writing music but it's perfect. I finally finished my art project, a painted portrait of a young brown-haired girl on her knees crying softly on the floor of a broken home. “Wow, Natty. This is amazing, it's so emotional” Noah says as he examines the artwork “You are so talented” he whispers to me.

We hang out from Saturday morning until almost midnight when he begrudgingly leaves but not after kissing me senseless on my bed. Waiting becomes less important when I feel his hands softly caressing my body, the way he squeezes my sides and holds me closer if a quiet mewl escapes my mouth. Soon, definitely, soon, I think to myself.

We spend the rest of the school year like that, hanging out at my house or Noah's, usually with Nick. They’ll write songs, I'll study or Nick and I will spend hours drawing weird things we make up. Life feels perfect for this time. I have an amazing boyfriend and friends.

Finals begin and end quickly, I pass with high marks and Noah celebrates my grades by gifting me a new Bring Me The Horizon shirt. “To add to the band shirt collection”

The day after school's out for summer I wake up to my phone buzzing, reaching over I answer it half asleep.

“Hello?” I mumble.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Nattyyy, happy birthday to you!” Noah's voice blares through my speakers and forces me further awake but with a large smile breaking across my face. “How's my girl feeling? Like an adult? Do you feel the sudden need to vote for something? Or permanently alter your skin?” Noah rapid fire questions at me, I’ve not known him to be a morning person but he's full of energy today.

I laugh softly, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Thank you Noah, beautiful rendition.” I laugh.

“Hmmmm…no sudden urge to vote but I might not be totally adverse to a small something tattooed, gotta try to keep up with my boyfriend, he's got a few already.” A few is maybe an understatement, when Noah’s been getting tattoos since he was like 16, apparently in his music scene a lot of guys are also tattoo artists so it was pretty easy for him to get them.

“Sounds like your boyfriend is pretty cool” He jokes.

“Oh he's the coolest, really hot too” I responded.

“Wow, you know i've got a pretty hot girlfriend, hopefully they don't run into each other, he sounds exactly like her type.” he laughs. “You know, I'm actually hoping she gets ready soon so I can go pick her up and take her to a birthday breakfast and keep her to myself all day. Do you think she'd be interested in something like that?” he asks me with a cheeky tone and I melt.

“I think she'd love that” My whole life at home can crumble around me, I don't care. I have Noah and that is enough. “I can be ready in 20 minutes” I say with a grin so wide it might split my face in two.

I start getting ready and I get a text from Nick.

Nick: Happy Birthday!

Image: It's a drawing of a lady knight warrior holding the hilt of a sword that is sticking out of the head of a massive red dragon. Its captioned “Lady Natalia Flameheart: the Dragon Slayer” 8:35

Natalie: WOW! Nick!!! This is AMAZING! Thank you so much :) I’m definitely printing this out. 8:36

I finished getting ready, throwing on some jean shorts and the BMTH shirt Noah gave me, leaving my hair down and going without makeup when I heard a knock at my door. I rush downstairs and open the door, immediately being engulfed in a big bare hug, Noah wraps his arms around me tight and spins us around.

“Happy Birthday Natty girl” he says smiling widely as he places me down and bends to give me a kiss. I pull him closer, deepening the kiss until he pulls away and rests his head against mine. “Wow, im happy to see you too baby” I laugh softly and reach to hug him tightly again.

Noah takes me to a diner for breakfast and tells the waiter it's my birthday so they add sprinkles and a candle to my stack of pancakes. He sings happy birthday again before I blow out my candle. I think this is the first birthday I’ve ever celebrated where I don’t have to share candles with Kyle, I kind of liked it. I loved being a twin for so much of my life but for the last few years Kyle and I just became so drastically different. I pull out my phone and decide to text him just a simple message.

Natalie: happy birthday Kyle. 9:30

Kyle: happy birthday sissy. 9:45

After breakfast Noah takes me to the sculpture garden downtown. We walked around for a few hours, spending half the time admiring the art and the other half making out in every tucked away corner we could find. Our next stop is the deli across the street from the coffee shop we had our first date at, we order sandwiches and grab chips and drinks but Noah mentions to the cashier that it's all to go.

“To go?” I question.

He just raises his eyebrows up and down and plasters a shiteating grin on his face.

With our lunch in hand we head back to the car and Noah drives us to the park and we walk to the bench where we shared our first kiss. “I thought this would be a nice spot for lunch” he confesses innocently.

“Noah Sebastian Davis, you are something else you know?” I say as I take the seat next to him on the bench, sitting as close to him as possible. He's not just something else, I think to myself, he's everything and I think I'm in love with him. Nope, I'm definitely in love with him. Before digging into lunch I lean towards him and kiss him tenderly, trying to push all of my appreciation and affection for all he's done for me today.

“Thank you for today, you made it really special” I say against his lips.

“You’re very welcome Natty, I’m just glad I got to spend the day celebrating my favorite person.” he says back returning a quick peck before we dig into our late lunch.We sit for a while longer before Noah drives me back home

“My mom is working late tonight, we already celebrated last night so..” I paused.

“Would you want to come in and watch a movie or something?” Noah nods and heads out of his car. We head up to my room and I bring out my laptop, placing it at the foot of the bed and opening netflix. I find a random action movie and hit play. I honestly have no interest in watching a movie, only getting Noah in my bed. Sitting with his arm around me I give little attention to the computer screen in front of me, instead I turn to nuzzle into Noah's neck and leave small kisses along the columns of his throat.

“You’re the one that chose this movie Natty, you're not even watching” he chuckles.

“Are you complaining?” I ask as I lick a small stripe up to nibble on his ear and I hear his breath catch.

“No, no complaints from me” he says, voice tightening.

He rotates his head to capture my mouth in a searing kiss, quickly adding tongue and moving his hands down to grip my waist. Movie forgotten we glide down the bed in a close embrace, my hands are tangled in his hair as he strokes up and down my sides. I pull away for a second, long enough to rip my shirt off quickly.

“Natalie, what are you-” he starts as his eyes drag down to my chest.

“Noah, I'm ready. Please” I whine.”Touch me”

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Next chapter here!

YESSS NEXT PART NATTY’S V CARD IS GETTING DESTROYED MUAHAHAHA

thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and enjoying the story!!! xoxoxoxo

Taglist: @lma1986 @notingridslurkaccount

#noah sebastian #noahsebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #fanfiction #fanfic #If I’m There Noah #my fic #bad omens rpf #bad omens fanfic #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fanfic #smut #angst #angst with a happy ending

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nolita-fairytale · 9 months

Note

🍝 thinking of bradley bradshaw adopting a pet from a shelter that he’d name something creative goose… what do you think would happen? would he end up doing it or do you think you’d surprise him with baby goose who has an old soul and loves it when you guys put some of his parents’ favourite records on (okay i’m gonna shut up and leave it to you)

thank you for considering and i hope u have the best day or night <3

hi @bradshawed! yes, i love this idea! here are my thoughts on adopting a dog with bradley:

Adopting Pet(s) with Bradley Bradshaw

it's after a few months-long of a deployment that bradley insists on revisiting the subject. sure, you've talked about it before, but it's after this particular deployment that he really gets serious. not only does he want you to have something to keep you company for next time, but he wants to put down roots, just more proof that he's ready to settle down with you.

for whatever reason, i absolutely see bradley bradshaw with a dog, at least at first. after all the hot welcome home sex, the follow saturday the two of you head to an adoption event where adoption fees are waived and pets can be brought home that day.

"yes, we can go but i really think we should take our time with our choice. this is permanent, baby, so let's make sure the dog's gonna be the right fit for... our little family," you explain to him.

the two of you walk through the rows of crates and playpens of enthusiastic dogs, ready for cuddles, and despite bradley's own set of adorable puppy eyes with each dog he holds, none of them feel right.

it's not till you're just about to leave that the two of you stumble upon a sleepy quiet dog, one that must not have gotten noticed because he isn't as outgoing as the others.

"he's six years old. and everyone wants a puppy," one of the vet techs explains. you look into his eyes and he has the oldest soul, the sweetest, gentlest, kindest eyes and you know that he's the one.

"i know that you think we should wait but-," bradley begins, having already fallen in love with your future son. "yes. yes, i think he's the one."

so the two of you build your dreams, and a family with the goodest boy in all of the world. picking a name comes easier than you thought. after a few days of living with you, he begins barking as soon as goose's old jerry lee lewis record makes it into your vinyl rotation.

"what's wrong, boy? what do you see?" bradley asks him. "babe, i think he likes the music," you giggle, totally in love with the new addition to your family. "so we call him 'goose.'" "we call him, goose."

how you and bradley get a cat: you spend six wonderful months as a solo pet owner, and goose as an only child, before a neighborhood stray starts coming around. you hadn't planned on taking him in, just feeding him every now and then, until you realize that bradley's been feeding him every day, which is why keeps coming back. he's so friendly and cuddly, and while hesitant at first, has met goose a few times in the backyard too.

bradley has a long weekend of on base training, and when he comes home sunday night, you're practically pushing him out onto the front porch to talk first. you've even buttered him up by making his favorite dinner so that he's more likely to say 'yes.'

"what's going on?" he asks you. "okay, don't kill me. but... i sort of... did something. don't freak out... but i kinda let the cat in. you know. your favorite neighborhood stray. and he won't leave. "are you serious?"

as bradley comes inside, your shared home smelling like his favorite meal, goose is curled up on the couch while the stray kitty sleeps curled in a ball on top of the back of the couch. while neither of you were planning on adding to your family so soon, he looks at the two of them, then back to you, and he doesn't have the heart to say no.

"so... we have a cat now." "yeah, i think we have a cat now."

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick headcanon #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw headcanon #nolita fairytale's follower celebration #nolita fairytale’s follower celebration

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shycolorstudent · 1 year

Text

Juuzou x Ghoul reader

I don’t like madly in love tropes where the couple will throw away their beliefs for each other. However, Juuzou is unhinged, and I think someone who is like matches. Let me know if I should go a different route or enjoy this. Also, sorry for the long Y/n back story; I got carried away :)

Ok, I never intended to fall in love with Juuzou Suzuya. I’m ghoul well half, and he’s a

CCG agent. Let me give you a quick back story. My name is Y/n Arima… well, it was. I’m a sibling of Kishou Armia, a product of the Sunlight garden. My whole purpose is to be a weapon; however, my brother had one condition in the garden wanted to use his DNA, and that was to give me a normal life well as much as they could give me; my parents are a doctor from the garden, and a school teacher who couldn’t conceive a child and I was their next best option. Kishou couldn't live with me since mother didn’t want to be reminded of what I was.

I swear she loves me, but it pains her to know my fate when I turn 18. My life was great. I went to school, had friends, my parents loved me, and I could see my big brother every weekend. Yeah, I had everything, an almost perfect life, until big madam caught a whiff of me that I looked like a doll and behaved like one. I was kidnapped right before my 6th birthday Kishou from what I remember, planned a party. He was always happy with me. My life as a scrapper was hell. I was tortured to the point I couldn’t feel pain, and parts of my hair turned white. It’s the same as Juuzou. He can’t feel pain, but his hair is white as snow thats because he would protect me by jumping on top to take in the hits from Big madam. She couldn’t manipulate me like she did Juuzou, or should I say Rei, thats what he was called at the time. I also went by another name, but it’s dead to me.

To make a long story short, there was a CCG bust in the scrapper ring Juuzou, and I tried to escape. We held each other's hands tight, but with all the commotion, we got separated. A DOVE did recognize me and wanted to take me by force, but Juuzou took it as a threat, and he became restrained. His last words to me that night were, “Run! Escape for the bolth of us. Don’t you dare come back from me! I’ll find you, I swear!” So I ran to Big Madam, thinking she would help me save him; however, she scoffed and grabbed me, but I fought back with only pure and utter rage Juuzou worshipped her, and yet she was willing to leave him. I unleashed my kagune for the first time and sliced her arm.

I was horrified and ended up on the run having DOVES and Ghouls on the hunt for me until I bumped into Yomo; I was starving and scared. From then on, I’ve called Anreiku home on the run from my brother, in a relationship with a DOVE, and trying to find a place as a half-breed, as Touka calls it. Kaneki stood up excited with a ton of questions. Yoshimura told me to be open with Kaneki since we were the only two who could understand one another. “Wait, wait, your brother is the White reaper? Why are you on the run? You can be leading a safe life.” He said with much confusion. I took a deep breath and spoke, “He is, but years have passed, and I have one more year before I turn 18. I will be killing my friends and my family. I would rather be in danger than hurt my family. He will one day find me and take me back. Until then, I’m free.” He tilted his head, thinking of any other questions. “Free? Wait! You're with a DOVE? How is that allowed?” I dreaded this question coming up.

I get enough crap from Touka. “I gave him an address three wards away. He found me one day walking to school, and Yoshimura knew no matter what, it was a lose-lose situation. I love him, and I’ll do anything for him. Call it Stockholm syndrome, but I’ll leave Anteiku if he calls for it. But if I leave Anteiku right now, then they're screwed.” I sighed, and Kaneki spoke, “How so? Your just a kid like Touka and I.” I smiled, and before I could talk, Touka spoke up. “She went crazy from the age of 6, and she was taught how to kill. She's a grade or two higher than me. Scrappers know how to kill humans and Ghouls. Before shit hits the fan, she is set in,” Touka said with her arms crossed. Touka and I are close, but it wasn’t always like that. The main thing we still fight about is my leaving one day and being with Juuzou. “Oh, is that why she and Yomo leave a lot together?” Kaneki asked. “Yup, I’ve been helping with disrupting territories. It’s boring when there was no action last time and no one argued. They took one look at me and yielded.” His jaw was on the ground before today. He thought I was a more excellent version of Touka, but he’s slowly seeing my scrapper side. “So, who here for me?” I asked Touka, “No one; I just popped in to listen to God.” She walked off, and I had to explain. “Now, where we differ, Kaneki, is I can eat human food and ghoul food. That is depending on what I do. If I use my kagune, I need to eat flesh, but if I don’t, then I’m normal, but during the whole month, I use my kagune. Before, when I was in denial, all I had was human food. Not once did I dare use my kagune, which made Touka jealous. It wasn’t until last year was when we became close.” He understood, and I could tell he wished that was him being able to have my drawbacks *ding ding* it was my watch. “Well, times up. If you need anything, let me know. I have a date to go to.”

I waited by the train station for Juuzou. Lucky for me, he respects my wishes of not wanting to see my brother. DOVES are supposed to report me if I’m seen, and Shinohara hasn’t made the connection yet, but it’s coming. I wonder how Juuzou would react if I told him I’m a ghoul. He might kill me. It’s his job, and he’s more violent than me. Even if I’m ordered to kill him, I won’t. I would expect my fate and let him kill me. I could smell him. He’s close. His scent is so good that many ghouls would want to eat him. I felt his hands cover my eyes, and he spoke sweetly, "Guess who?” He laughed and laughed back as I turned around to embrace him. Even though I’m stronger, I feel utterly safe with him. “How was school?” He asked me as he patted my head.

“It was good. I’m stressed about exams, but I’ll pull through. How's work?” This is often double-edged. I’m genuinely curious about his day at work; however, to get Touka and Yomo off my case, I provided information that I’m told. That has been a lot of help. “Same old same old. Sometimes you lived with me and not in the 17th ward. It’s going into the red.” He sighed. “Just say the word, and I’ll run away with you.” I smiled up at him he smiled back. “Soon, I promise. I just want to get rid of all these guys that watch over me. Now, to the Zoo!”

-Some headcanons-

-He knows that she's a ghoul. He’s not dumb. She passes off as human, but he knows.

-He found comfort in the Zoo, so he took Y/n to the zoo so she could feel safe.

-He's very clingy and wants to run away already; however, he knows the consequences, and he doesn’t want to risk being separated again.

-I didn't know what dating was until Shinohara explained it to him, and he thought you two had been dating the whole time you were scrappers.

-His love language is physical touch. You must be touching via a hug, hand-holding, or even holding pinkies when you are together.

-Does PDA unless you tell him to stop.

-He’s very overprotective

-Hopes that one day Ghouls and humans can be together

-Like to kiss your hand. He thinks it’s more intimate that way.

-He acts like a child, and you love it. It reminds you to let loose a little.

-Your more cold and hes childish but it’s a perfect balance.

#ghoul #tokyo ghoul #juuzou x reader #backstory #oc #y/n #cute #juuzou suzuya #reader

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warmaidensrevenge · 1 year

Text

Always seen you.

Pairing: Eddie x Insecure!Fem plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Ok my dears, this is part 7 to my full blown series. This turned out to be a lot more than I intended. But, I’m happy how it’s going. Just a few warnings before the actual warnings. I did use the scene in the woods with Eddie and Chrissy. With obvious changes to fit my story line. This gets sad. So I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Kay love you bye.

Warnings: 18+ language, body insecurities, secret pining, angst, slow burn, misunderstanding, abuse, eventually smut in later parts. Not proof read and no word count.

Summary: The boy of your dreams is always just out of reach. If only you could get over yourself to see that he sees you too.

Part 7

💔💔😮‍💨

Well the weekend wasn't how you expected it to go. But other than being sick, it was the best weekend of your existence. Eddie stayed the whole time. He only left to take a shower and say hi to his uncle. Just to let him know where he was.

It was Wednesday morning and you were feeling tons better. All you needed was a big dose of Eddie Munson and you were good as new.

Though there was a lot to deal with involving your feelings for Eddie. You were honestly happy that you had him as a friend. He was a really good one at that. You never thought he would even want to be near you. But here he was proving all your insecurities wrong.

You were in theater class talking with Eddie when Mrs Adler came to talk to you guys.

" Okay you two. I have copies of the scripts for you. I would actually like both of you to practice the parts together. I want everyone of the main characters to learn each other's parts. So that everyone can get a chance to act each one. So y/n you will learn Julia and Sylvia's parts and Mr. Munson you will be learning Valentine and Proteus's part."

You and Eddie looked at each other. You guys would get to kiss after all.

Mrs Adler smiled handing you two the scripts.

You looked down at them. " When will the play happen?"

" Two months."

You nodded.

" I have the auditorium booked for next week. I expect you guys to at least have most of it memorized by then. Well your original part."

" Yeah we can do that." Eddie said

" Good. Mr Munson. You probably might want to find Miss Cunningham and figure out what time works best for you two."

Eddie nodded.

" Same goes for you." Mrs Adler looked at you.

You nodded.

When she left you couldn't possibly have a bigger smile. It was gonna happen. You were gonna finally get that kiss. But then the thought of Eddie kissing Chrissy first came. You didn't want his lips touching anyone else.

Stop it! You told yourself

" Hey sweetheart?"

You looked at Eddie and gave him a half smile.

"Think you feel good enough for a movie later?"

" Sure."

" Cool."

When the class was over Mrs Adler stopped Eddie. You said your goodbyes and Eddie watched you leave. With a smirk on his lips. He was finally gonna kiss you.

" Mr. Munson, I just want to let you know that I and a few students will be in the drama room after school making props."

" Oh. Umm okay."

" so you probably are gonna have to take date night somewhere else." She smiled

Eddie felt the blush creep up his neck. Was that what all the movie nights were? Were you guys dating?

He didn't correct her. He just nodded and left.

Eddie went to his next class not paying attention to God damn thing.

You guys couldn't watch the movie in the drama room and you guys couldn't do it at your place when your parents were home. So the only option was his place.

Eddie had never really been embarrassed about his place before. But now he was. He was freaking out so bad about it that after school he went to the woods to smoke. He should have got the movie before he was high. But his anxiety was through the roof.

" Eddie?"

He jumped. When he turned around he was met with scared eyes.

" Uhh Chrissy?"

" Hi. Umm sorry. I uhh was told I could find you out here."

" You were looking for me?"

" Yeah. Mrs Adler said we should talk."

" Oh...yeah" Eddie was nervous. He had never talked to Chrissy before.

He watched her walk towards the table and sit down.

"So uhh I was wondering when you would like to read the script together?" She said in a soft voice.

Eddie could sense that she seemed terrified. Was she really scared of him?

" Uhh whenever you're free I guess." He said slowly approaching the table. Putting out his joint in the process.

" umm."

She stood quiet for a minute.

" Are you okay Chrissy?" He said finally sitting down across from her.

" Umm sorry. It's just...Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?" She asked, fidgeting with her fingers.

Eddie looked at her slightly suspicious. But she seemed nice so he thought he would try to get her to relax.

" Um, you know, just... on a daily basis. I feel like I'm losing my mind right now. I'm talking to Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High" he saw her shoulders relax. "You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... Hung out."

"No?" She said finally looking at him.

"You don't remember? "

"I'm sorry. I..."

"That's okay." Eddie paused for a split second. He then grabbed his heart and fell backwards.

Chrissy gasped.

"I wouldn't remember me either, Chrissy."

Eddie got up and started brushing the leaves out of his hair. "Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?"

Chrissy laughed. That made him feel better. She was getting comfortable being around him. So he decided to keep it up.

"You don't remember me?" He asked crossing his arms and smiled.

" I'm sorry." She smiled

"Middle school, talent show. You were doing this cheer thing. You know, the... the thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually. And I... I was with my band."

Chrissy's eyes widened and she smiled. "Corroded Coffin.

"Corro..." Eddie smiled clapping his hands and pointed at her. " You do remember."

" Oh my God! Yes, of course. With a name like that, how could I forget!?"

I dunno. You're a freak."

"No, you just... You looked so..."

"Different? Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet." He said showing off his chest tattoo.

"You played guitar, right?"

" Uh-huh. Still do... Still do. You should come see us. Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We... We actually get a crowd of about five... drunks."

Chrissy giggled.

" It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right? So... "

"You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like."

Eddie put some hair in front of his face." Mean and scary?"

"Yeah."

" Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too."

" Me?" She gave him a big toothy smile.

Eddie grinned and sat back down." Terrifying. Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so..."

Chrissy laughed again. " Well I umm look forward to working with you on this."

" Yeah?"

" Yeah. You just seem really fun."

Eddie chuckled. " Well I tried to be."

They sat there for a minute.

Eddie noticed that Chrissy's smile was fading.

" Umm Eddie?"

" Yeah sweetheart?"

Chrissy looked at the script and turned to the page where they were supposed to kiss.

Eddie watched her for a few seconds.

" Sweetheart?"

" Do you..Do you think it would be okay if we don't kiss. I...I don't want Jason to be upset."

' Uhh actually I was thinking about that too. I ummm don't get me wrong. Your pretty and I had a crush on you for the longest time."

" You did?"

" Y-yeah...But see ummm...there's this girl."

Chrissy smiled again. " yeah?"

" yup. She uhh she's actually playing Julia."

" Oh! You mean y/n. Yeah I know her. She is so nice. One time when I just got on the cheer team she helped me. I was having trouble memorizing all the chants and she found me crying in the bathroom. I told her why I was so upset and she went out of her way to make me flash cards of all the cheers we did. She spent hours helping me. Shes really a great person."

Eddie smiled thinking about you. You were such a good person. Even when you didn't have to be.

" Yeah. She's umm.. she's kinda...I don't know exactly what we are right now. But umm I kinda just want to kiss her you know."

Chrissy nodded. " Well you'll get your chance. But can I tell you something?"

" Shoot."

" If I was y/n. I wouldn't want my first kiss with you to be in front of the whole school."

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. " I didn't think about that."

Chrissy gave him a thin lip smile.

" Can I ask you something?"

" Sure?"

Eddie started picking at his nails. " You know where I live right?"

" Umm no?"

" Oh uh Forest Hills trailer park."

" Oh yeah. I know where that is."

" Y-yeah...do you think that she would mind where I live?"

" You guys are friends right?"

" Yeah."

" Then I don't think she would mind it at all. From what I know about her. She doesn't judge people on that kind of stuff."

Eddie smiled again. Chrissy was right. You wouldn't be put off by him or his home.

" So uhh do you want to go over lines right now?" Chrissy asked.

" uhh I would but umm I kinda have a date."

Chrissy grinned. " With y/n I hope."

Eddie chuckled. " Yeah."

...

After school you walked towards the math club when you saw a note on the door. Jeff came and stood right next to you.

" Cancelled huh?"

" Yeah. Seems like it." You said kinda happy about it.

This meant you could spend a little more time with Eddie.

" So uhh what are you gonna do right now?"

You looked at Jeff. "Umm well I was going to find Eddie. But now that I think about it. Did Mrs Adler give you your scripts yet?"

" Uh yeah. Do you want to run lies with me?"

" Yeah we probably should. But I kind of have something to do today."

" Oh is it date night?"

Your eyebrows pinched together. "Umm what?"

" Yeah. You know. Movie night with Eddie? You guys are dating right?"

" Umm not that I know of."

" Really? That's what Gareth said. He said I couldn't ask you to winter formal because you and Eddie were going out."

You cleared your throat. " umm wait. You were gonna ask me to formal? And Gareth said Eddie and I were dating?"

" Yeah. And if you were I wouldn't want to do anything that would piss Eddie off."

" Did Eddie say anything that confirmed that?"

Jeff shook his head. " But he does talk about you a lot. Saying how pretty you are and how smart you are. He said that he liked spending time with you."

"He said that?" You averted your gaze to the ground.

" Yeah. But he never said you guys were together together."

You bit your lip. So Eddie did like you. Why didn't he say anything? You guys could have been together this whole time?!

" So are you guys? Together?"

You looked back at Jeff. " umm not right now we're not."

" But you like him too?"

" I..."

" It's cool. You don't have to answer that. I just thought maybe... nevermind. Umm so do you want to meet me in the auditorium tomorrow and practice?"

" Sure-sure...I'm do you know where Eddie is right now?"

" Yeah he said he was going to his smoking spot."

" umm where is that?"

" Uhh it's an old bench behind the football field. If you follow the path. You'll find it."

" Thanks Jeff."

You turned around and headed towards eddie. The smile on your face was so big you knew your cheeks were gonna hurt. The short distance seemed way longer than it should have been. You wanted to run there. Run to Eddie and just kiss him. But you didn't want to be out of breath and all sweaty. So you walked quickly.

You heard Eddie talking before you got there.

Talking to yourself too huh?

As you got closer you heard laughing. But not Eddie's. You stopped and heard a girl.

You didn't realize you were doing it but we're creeping closer to hear the conversation. Being as silent as you could.

"I feel like I'm losing my mind right now. I'm talking to Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High" "You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... Hung out."

You're getting high with Chrissy?

As you continued to listen. Eddie seemed to be flirting with her. You felt your heart rate pick up and jealousy filled you. Your eyes started to water.

"You should come see us. Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We... We actually get a crowd of about five... drunks."

What?

Your heart broke right then and there. He never asked you to see his band. And you guys have been friends for months. This was his first time talking to Chrissy and he already asked her.

You're flirting. Why?

Tears started to fall and you covered your mouth to cover up the gasp that came with them.

Then you heard it. He called her sweetheart. That's when you had enough. You were done eavesdropping. You turned around and hurried back to the football field. Once you got there you slowed down and tried to catch your breath.

Deep breaths. Common y/n. Calm down.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped your face. You wanted to go home but you couldn't. Your brother would know you've been crying.

You ended up in your little nook and sat there with your knees up. You buried your face into your arms and cried as quietly as you could.

I thought he liked me.

Well you weren't the only one he liked. But why would he choose you? You and Chrissy were completely opposites. She was so pretty and so nice. And she was thin and blonde and a damn cheerleader. How the hell could you compete with her? There's no way in hell that Eddie would choose you over her.

Fuck you really couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't lose yourself for this "relationship". You had to look at things in an analytical stand point. Instead of letting your heart do the thinking. It was your brain in charge of how you felt. And you could control that.

You decided here and now that you would only be a helping hand. No more spending time together. No more late night phone calls, no more movies. You were done. You needed as much distance as you could. But still be available to tutor him and work on the play together. But that was it. No more and no less.

You had to. You could keep hurting yourself for a fantasy. You had to be done. You needed to be done with Eddie.

...

You let yourself cry and cry. You cried until you had nothing left and your throat was raw. You sat there for a little while longer trying to talk yourself to stop caring so much about him. You kept hearing him call Chrissy sweetheart and you just broke all over again.

Finally when you were calmed down enough you took the long way home. It started to rain and you cried again. Now you could go home and no one would ask about it.

You stopped in front of your front door and put on a smile. You said your hellos and went to your room.

" Hey golden child. Eddie called." Your brother said.

" Oh. Umm okay thanks. I'm gonna shower before I get sick again."

You walked past him and locked yourself in the bathroom. You debated calling him back. But you needed time.

You took so long in the shower your mom started banging on the door telling you to get out.

When you finally got out you went to your room and started doing your homework.

"Hey gearhead. Eddie called again." Your brother sounded annoyed.

" Yeah okay. Sorry. I'll call him back." You said not looking at him.

" Are you okay sis?"

" Y-yeah. I just got so much to do. And lines to learn."

" Are you sure?"

You looked at him and smiled. "I'm good snot wad."

Your brother laughed " Alright kid. Don't work too hard."

When he left you got up and locked your door. You went to your record player and put on a vinyl.

You went back to work when the phone rang. You got up and turned the ringer off. You knew it was Eddie. But you couldn't talk to him. Not yet.

You went back to work. You read and read all your lines. Your concentration was interrupting by a song.

You listened and every word hurt.

🎵

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you. What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way. What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

And I don't wanna fall in love.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

With you.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you. Strange what desire will make foolish people do. I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you. And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.

🎵

The universe had a funny way of giving you signs like this. You sat there wishing you never fell in love with him.

Out of nowhere your dad screamed out your name.

You got up and went out to the living room. You were surprised to see Mrs Clark sitting on the couch.

" Have a seat." Your fathers voice was cold and angry.

You listened and sat on the love seat opposite from Mrs Clark and your mom.

" Mrs Clark has brought to our attention that her son saw the Munson boy stay here this past weekend. Is this true?"

You looked at Mrs Clark in disbelief.

" You have a lot of nerve." You said to her

" I beg your pardon." She said.

" That's enough! So it's true. You were being a whore with that...that freak!" Your mother stood up and slapped you.

"MOM!" Your brother yelled. "STOP! HE WAS HERE WITH ME!"

You sat there with tears in your eyes. You saw your brother put down the phone and try to come to you. But your mother stopped him.

"My son said while he was cutting the neighbors grass he just so happened to see through the bedroom window and saw them sleeping together."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Your brother yelled at your father who came to you.

He got in your face. " Are you going to just sit there and not answer for your indiscretions?"

Your brother knew if you told the truth. Things were about to get a hell of a lot worse.

You looked over to your brother. If you didn't tell the truth he would probably get hurt a whole lot worse than you would.

" Y/n!" Your brother yelled.

You looked back at your father.

" Y-yes. He was here with me." You replied.

Your dad turned around and pulled Mrs Clark by her arm. " I think it's time you leave. Thank you for informing my wife and I about this."

He quickly shoved her out of the house.

Your brother tried to get out of your mom's arms but she kept saying if he didn't stop he was going to get double.

Your father turned around and walked toward you.

" You will not see that boy ever again! Do you hear me? His is not allowed within a hundred yards of this house. And if I ever catch him here I will make sure my buddies at the sheriff's department lock him away for a long time."

You hung your head and let out a small nose laugh. "No."

"NO!"

"Y/n!? Don't." Your brother begged

"You don't get to tell me who I can be with or who I can see. So no."

" HOW DARE YOU TALK BACK TO YOUR FATHER!"

You looked at your dad and saw nothing but rage.

" I'm sorry dad. But I'm not doing this shit anymore."

Your dad picked you up by your arms and grabbed a pillow. He held it to your stomach and punched you.

"DAD!! PLEASE!" Your brother cried out.

You leaned over and fell to the ground. You heard your father undo his belt and started beating you.

Somehow your brother got past your mother and went to tackle your dad. You tried to get up but your mom held you there by your hair.

"Look at what you've done!"

She moved your head to look at your father and brother. They were rolling around throwing blows at each other.

Your dad was much bigger and way stronger. You cried watching your brother get beaten.

" Daddy! Please!" You cried.

Your father stopped and looked down at your brother who was bleeding. He then looked at you and shook his head.

" You shouldn't have gotten involved boy." Your dad said getting up. "Honey let her go. She's had enough."

Your mother listened and let your hair go. " Clean your brother up."

You crawled to him and pulled him into your lap.

"Damnit. You should have stayed out of it." You whispered

" I promised I wouldn't let you get hit without me." He grunted

" I hope you're happy. No go to bed!" Your mother ordered.

" No." You said softly.

"Y/n don't." Your brother pleaded.

You looked at him. "No. I'm done. We're getting out of here. They can't keep doing this to us."

" I said go to your room!"

" NO! We are not staying another night in the place with you!" You shouted.

Your mother was about to charge you but your father stopped her.

You were always closer to your dad. You knew after every beating he would feel so bad after. But it never stopped him from the continuous abuse over the years. So you used that to your advantage tonight.

" If they want to go. Let them honey. They will come running back sooner or later."

You pulled your brother to his feet. You grabbed both your jackets and shoes. You grabbed his car keys and went outside.

You sat on the front porch helping him put on his shoes.

" Fuck!" He said trying to clean up his bloody nose. " It's not broken is it?"

You looked him over. " No. I think you're good."

You started to put on your shoes when headlights blinded you for a second. You saw two guys at first.

Then you saw a mess of curly hair bouncing to you.

Eddie?

...

@irishhappiness @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @idkidknemore @hiscrimsonangel @hellv1ra @browneyes528 @b-irock @erinsingalong

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x plus size reader #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x y/n #plus size reader

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adickaboutspoons · 8 months

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book emoji! (sorry i'm on desktop) (also sorry for stalking your inbox today haha hope you're well, have a lovely weekend! <3)

Technically a WIP since I have about 3.5K words written about it already, but it's been sitting there for... a while now. This is another banger from the Stede Bonnet Defense Squad late night collective storytelling files, so special thanks to @nicnacsnonsense and @poetic----nonsense for bouncing around ideas on this one with me. I'm just including my bits, though I should point out nicnac was the one to first suggest Ed & CJ as fuck buddies and Papa Bonnet's cost-benefit analysis of ransoming Stede factoring in the arrangements he's been brokering with Mary's parents behind Stede's back.

AU where Young Adult Ed meets Young Adult Stede (when Stede is down daydreaming at the docks) and decides to take him hostage and convince Hornigold to hold him for ransom. Ed is in charge of guarding the prisoner while Hornigold starts the process of negotiating. Stede is chatty in the brig. Wants to know all about the kinds of knots that have been used to tie him up, and how long Ed has been at sea and how he got his start and just all sorts of things. Ed is low-key annoyed to have been given this duty and kind of gruff about it, but kind of won over eventually by Stede's enthusiasm and also is shocked that Stede kind of doesn't WANT to go back to his cushy life. And by the way he gets all quiet and sad when Ed says that Hornigold's negotiating with his dad, because he's pretty sure his father would rather start from scratch trying to produce a new heir than bother trying to get Stede back.

And just when Ed and Stede are really starting to bond, CJ shows up, and Stede is like ugh. It's hate at first sight for the two of them, sniping and bickering and abuse and the hey-hey.

Ed & CJ are fuck buddies, and, CJ, consumate reader-of-rooms can see that Stede likes Ed, and worse, that Ed likes Stede. And that in spite of his best (worst) efforst, the two of them keep growing closer and closer.

Stede is asleep at first when CJ comes to seduce Ed. Part of CJ's wheedling is because Ed tries to say they can't "because of the prisoner" and CJ says that he's gonna have to learn about the birds and the bees soon anyway if he's gonna get married (because he knows that's a sore spot for Ed, who is aware of the negotiations enough to know that a big motivator for Papa Bonnet is that he's already started brokering Stede's arranged marriage). (CJ's extra loud and obnoxious about going to town on Ed, too, so Stede can't even block it out, even closing his eyes and covering his ears.) That's the first Stede hears about anything to do with him and marriage. Stede doesn't find out it's a done deal until Ed jealously brings up Mary when Stede is trying to talk to him about how he deserves better than CJ. And Stede is not only crushed that this is the only reason his father is bothering to negotiate for him, he also thinks Ed was purposely hiding it from him and that he and CJ have been laughing at him behind his back.

Eventually negotiations wrap and Stede is supposed to go back to his father. And Stede is trying to be all stoic and dutiful, but Ed hears him crying (and berating himself for crying) when he thinks that Ed is asleep. And Ed is rowing him back, and is all "what if I didn't row you back? What if I just keep rowing? What if we run away?"

And Stede wants to, more than anything, but CJ snuck down one time when Ed was relieved of duty, and "casually" mentioned how Ed is already on thin ice with Hornigold (he's not. he's actively being groomed to take captaincy of the next ship they capture), and Hornigold just needs the slightest provocation to kill Ed in some very exciting and creatively awful ways. And he doesn't want to be the cause of bringing Hornigold's wrath down on Ed's head. So he says no.

There's an exciting third act, but I'm not the one who came up with it, so I'll just leave it there.

#ofmd fic #eventually #my modest contribution to fandom #ofmd #our flag means death season 2 spoilers

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rothjuje · 1 year

Text

Justin is about to leave for 10 days. This is the longest he’s ever been away. Ugh.

His work trip is in Dallas. I’m insanely jealous. He gets to see our friends and old neighbors, and he gets to eat at our favorite spots. He wanted us to join, I just thought it would be too much with G&G, who don’t sleep in hotels or travel well. But dang, we should have gone just for the weekend. Regrets.

So many changes are taking place. The school year is wrapping up, Alyssa’s Celebration of Growth is tomorrow. The weather is heating up. I’m hanging out more with my kindergarten mom squad friends. I don’t know. I have big feelings about our first real summer here. Maybe I have some mild PTSD from last summer? I don’t know. The stress of it still makes me nauseous when I think about it. Ha! Maybe the move will be a traumaversary in my life now. Is that possible? Maybe, since the move from CA to TX broke my heart into a million little pieces and MA, while a definite upgrade, was still a small echo of that. Leaving friends and loved ones and places that felt like home and venturing into the great unknown. Sigh. It’s been crazy and fun and exciting and new and great but there have been times where I’ve felt alone, like I’ll never truly fit in here. But there are a bunch of transplants in my kindergarten mom squad and that has helped.

I’ve also met several moms with autistic kiddos. It’s nice to have a support system of people who get it. I used to have so much anxiety about his milestones and meeting kids older than him who eventually developed meaningful speech has been so nice. George has started to say some more meaningful words and phrases (“cracker” for Graham cracker, he refers to himself as “Georgie”, and he tells us “no” now when he doesn’t want to do something). He still says tickle and peekaboo when he wants to play and cheese when you take his picture. He’s getting there. He’ll get there. He’s the cuddliest, sweetest guy with the best disposition out of every kid I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t change him for one second, I just hope I get to hear about his interests some day.

Alyssa still wants to be both JoJo Siwa and a chef. Her favorite songs are Party in the USA and Shake it Off, she dances to them on repeat. I bet she would love Hannah Montana. She has poses now that she practices in the mirror and I honestly think she is perfect in every way. And very entertaining.

Gen is Gen. She is The Boss. Preschool two days a week next year will do her some good I think. The FCC classes are so great but they require parent participation and she rather be with me than her classmates, so her participation level is low. It will be so good for her to be with peers when mom isn’t there. She is so smart, she watches everything and everyone. She talks so much, and most of it sounds like a little grownup, she is very articulate. She is also fascinated by babies and batteries.

That’s pretty much it. Girls will do swim lessons, gardening class, and gymnastics this summer. George will have his IEP program for 3 hours M-Th. We’ll pack a picnic lunch, pick him up from school, and either head to the lake or playground for the afternoon. I’d love to wear them out every day and have early bedtimes. And it’s so much easier to parent outdoors. Weather is perfect here, TX you could really only enjoy the outdoors in the morning or evening, it will be nice to have all day to be outside.

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stargazer-sims · 7 months

Text

The Art of Redemption

(Part 4)

previous // next // story index

———

"How're you holding up, kid?"

Beth-Anne wraps both hands around the extra-large takeaway coffee cup and closes her eyes, concentrating on the soothing heat working its way into her fingers. She and Stan are in the corridor outside Nikolai's hospital room. It's eight in the morning, and the hospital staff have just finished bringing breakfast around to all the patients.

From inside the room, Beth-Anne can hear Ginger coaxing Nikolai to eat his oatmeal, "Because if you don't eat it, I will. Carbs be damned."

She sighs. "I'm okay, I guess."

"Now, remember who you're talking to," Stan says.

She lets another sigh escape, opens her eyes and raises her gaze to meet his. "I'm tired."

"You should go home and try to get some rest."

"I can't," she says. "I promised Nikolai I wouldn't leave him."

"Ginger and I can stay with him for a while. He won't be alone."

"But, what about Ginger's ice time?" she protests. "I mean, she qualified for Worlds. That date will be coming up faster than you realize."

"What do I always say? People before practice." He smiles. "That's why you asked me to get in touch with Brett and Mariah about their ice time today, isn't it?"

With a stab of guilt, she realizes she'd momentarily forgotten about Mariah and Brett. "I need to call them myself. I should apologize. And I'll have to call little Eden's parents too. He's got a thing next weekend that we're supposed to be getting ready for."

"You should call them," Stan agrees. "But, you shouldn't apologize. Just explain what's happening. They'll understand."

"Brett qualified for Junior Worlds," she says, half to herself. "Damn it! That's only—"

"Beth-Anne.” Stan holds up a hand. “Brain open, mouth closed."

"You haven't said that to me in..."

"A long time," he inserts quickly. "But it seems like you need it at the moment."

"You're right. I do."

"I put up a notice about your group lessons before I came over here, so that's taken care of," he says. "Now, listen to me for a minute. A missed day of training or two isn't going to hurt Brett at this point. If he's not ready for Junior Worlds by now, he's not ready for Junior Worlds. Understand?"

She nods. "I see what you mean."

"And if you're worried about me and Ginger, I can tell you a day off isn't going to harm her chances either. Besides, do you really think her heart would be in it today anyway, with her best friend in the hospital?"

"No, I suppose not," Beth-Anne concedes.

She sips her coffee. From behind the partially-closed door of the room, Nikolai's voice drifts out. "Ginger! Oh my God... stop. My hands still work, you know. I can feed myself."

This is followed by laughter from Ginger. "There. Mission accomplished! If I couldn't badger you into eating, I knew I could manipulate you into it."

Nikolai makes a strangled noise, as if he's trying not to laugh and inadvertently spit out a mouthful of oatmeal in the process. He sputters, coughs and then declares, "You are the living end, Vivienne Holmes."

She replies mildly, "Finish your breakfast, Nikolai."

Beth-Anne smiles, her worry easing slightly. Nikolai seems more like himself this morning, and it's clear that Ginger's presence is doing him good. He always seems to be happier and more relaxed when Ginger is around.

Perhaps Stan is right. Maybe it would be okay to leave for a couple of hours. She could go home, clean up the kitchen, and get the downstairs bedroom ready for Nikolai. She might even do a quick grocery run.

Peanut butter, she tells herself. She'll have to remember to get peanut butter when she goes to the supermarket. She rarely eats it herself, but Nikolai's taste for it has practically reached legendary status at this point, thanks in no small part to a handful of sports reporters at Skate America a few years back. The figure skating world had laughed collectively when a photo of Nikolai skating around at practice with a massive jar of peanut butter the girls had given him appeared in several online publications with the dubious tagline 'Peanormous'.

All Beth-Anne could do when she'd seen it was shake her head. The random nonsense regularly generated by Nikolai and his friends had been one of her biggest frustrations at the time. Now, she finds herself wishing for those times to come back. Some weird condiment-related publicity would be mild in comparison to what they're facing at the moment.

Beside her, Stan idly swirls his cold brew with the straw that's sticking out of it. Even in the dead of winter, he loves his cold drinks.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"Too much, honestly," she answers. "How the hell did we get here? I mean, not that I begrudge Nikolai anything. I love him like he's mine, but how is it that I'm the one who's taking care of him? It's not as if his real family doesn't know what's going on. And where the fuck is Anya when he needs her?"

"You're angry," he observes.

"Damn straight," she says. 'Do you know, that woman had the audacity to kick me out of their house because she said I was hurting Nikolai? And then what does she do? She runs off and leaves him completely alone for three days. He fell down the goddamned stairs, Stan! Because she put his crutches upstairs and out of reach. And I'm supposed to be the one who's hurting him?"

Stan frowns. "That's not good."

"That's an understatement."

"Even so, you know it's none of your business. Their marital troubles, I mean."

"I think it became my business when he phoned me in the middle of the night, sobbing and telling me he didn't want to be here any more," she says. "I was terrified. I think I broke every speed limit on the way over there, and when I got there and saw the mess he was in and realized he was on his own—"

She has to stop and take a deep breath to calm herself. She's still not over what happened last night.

"Okay, yes. I suppose that part is your business now," Stan concedes. "But their marriage still isn't."

"You know what?" she says. "I honestly don't care about their marriage, if you can even call that fucked-up situation a marriage. Do I think he'd be better off if they weren't together? Hell yeah. And do I wish she'd stay far away from him? Yes I do, but I'm not going to interfere. I have enough on the go without intentionally looking for trouble."

"Good." Stan nods. "Stay out of it as much as you're able to. But just so you know, I think you're doing the right thing by taking him in."

"Thanks. It feels right."

"It's probably not going to do much for your love life, though."

Beth-Anne snorts and nearly spits out a mouthful of coffee. "Jesus, Stan! Where did that come from?"

"What?" His attempt at feigning innocence is an utter failure.

"You think I've had a woman in my bed lately? I'll probably have better luck catching one with Nik there than without him."

"Oh?" He quirks an eyebrow. "Came for the boy, stayed for the girl?"

She groans. "Oh my God. I know what comes next. Don't even say it."

He says it anyway, deadpan. "Came for the girl."

She laughs out loud. The emotional release is unexpected, and most of the tension leaves her body all at once. It feels good, but unfortunately it also clears the way for her to grasp exactly how wiped out she is. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than to go home, take a hot bath and then crawl into bed.

But, she can't do that. Not yet, anyway.

Stan is watching her. "Better?"

"Sort of. You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"I don't know why you have to ask," he says. "You know I did."

"Because you thought I needed it?"

"Didn't you?"

"How is it even possible that you know me better than I know myself?" she wonders aloud. "You always know what to do."

"Not always, but I try," he says. "So, what's your plan?"

"For right now, you mean?" she says. "If you or Ginger can stay here for a couple hours, I'll go home and straighten the place up a bit."

"Okay," he says. "I can stay, and I'm sure Ginger won't mind staying."

"Thanks."

"You want to go in and tell him now?"

"Yeah," she replies. "No time like the present, I guess."

When they enter the room, they find Nikolai and Ginger both sitting on the bed. He's finished his breakfast, and the two of them are huddled together, looking at a sports magazine Ginger brought for him. She'd obviously smuggled in some candy for him as well. The obnoxiously bright plastic bag is open and resting on the leg of one of them or the other. It's a little hard to tell exactly which, since they're so close to each other and Ginger is tucked under the thin hospital blanket too. Beth-Anne notices Ginger's shoes on the floor beside the bed.

Both skaters look startled and guilty when they notice their coaches' presence in the room. Ginger palms the bag of Jelly Fruit and attempts to conceal it beneath the blanket.

Stan clears his throat in a deliberate and exaggerated way. "Are we interrupting something here?"

This is met by an an awkward, "Uh..." from Nikolai.

Almost simultaneously, Ginger responds with, "Ah, no... not really?"

"You two have been trouble since the day I met you," Stan says, but there's no trace of annoyance or anger in his voice, only fondness and slight exasperation. "I hope you read the label before you started filling yourself with those sweets, Ginger."

Ginger holds up two fingers. "We've only had two pieces each. Right, Nik?"

Nikolai's voice says "Right," but his expression says something else entirely, and Beth-Anne doesn't need to be a mind reader to know both of them have had more than two candies each. Part of her wants to admonish Nikolai out of habit, but she lets it go. He can eat whatever he wants, now that he's not competing.

The reality of that hits her like a sudden punch in the gut, and she fights to keep from showing it on her face. She conjures up a smile somehow, and echoes Stan's sentiment. "Goddamned troublemakers, the pair of you."

"But you still love us, don't you?" Ginger says.

"Of course we do," says Stan. "But that doesn't mean you're not a pain in the ass. No more candy today. Understand?"

She grins at him. "There's always tomorrow."

Stan makes a gesture of surrender. "I give up."

There's movement under the blanket and then Nikolai's hand emerges with the bag of candy. "I guess the rest of these are mine."

He glances at Beth-Anne as if seeking permission, and she spreads her arms in the same way Stan had done. "I can't stop you, can I?"

"Boo," Ginger says. "You know those are my favourite."

"I'll owe you a bag," Nikolai tells her. "In the off-season, we'll sneak off somewhere and eat as much junk food as we want. I'll get you some of these, and I won't even make you share."

"We'll pretend we didn't hear that," Stan says.

There's an uncomfortable lull in the conversation following that. Nikolai and Ginger both understand the boundaries their coaches have set for them. He leans over and places the bag of candy on the tray table next to his empty breakfast dishes. As soon as he settles back into his original position. Ginger reaches for his hand, and they intertwine their fingers.

On the first day she'd met them, they'd done that after being scolded, Beth-Anne recalls. She can still picture them as they were back then, two hyperactive teenagers; Ginger with her easy laugh and boundless energy, and Nikolai with his mischievous little grin and propensity for unexpected hugs. It's hard to believe that was ten years ago. She's watched them change and grow in so many ways, but even after a decade, some things about them haven't changed at all.

As she observes Nikolai and Ginger, she tries to think of the gentlest way to tell Nikolai she's leaving. He seems to be in good spirits at the moment, but she's concerned his mood is tenuous, and she doesn't want to upset him.

She puts her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and shifts most of her weight off her bad leg. Her hip is throbbing dully. It's not overwhelmingly painful, and she knows it's nothing that an ibuprofen tablet won't cure, but it's screwing up her concentration and making her unable to come up with anything that doesn't sound either scripted or patronizing.

Damn it... I just need to hold myself together for a little longer. I need to get out of here with no fuss, and then I can crash when I get home.

Nikolai, sensitive and perceptive as ever, evidently takes notice of her change in posture. He says tentatively, "Beth-Anne, are you okay?"

"I'm good," she says. "My hip's aching a little, that's all. Sign of old age, I guess."

"That's not true. You're not old." He chews on his lower lip as his gaze travels around the room and eventually comes to rest on the plastic chair. He stares at it for a second or two, and then says quietly. "Oh my God. It's that chair. You sat there all night, didn't you? It's my fault. I'm sorry. I didn't realize—"

"No. It's okay," she says, wanting to forestall the rising panic she can hear in his voice. "I actually didn't sit there all night. I was walking around a lot. Don't worry. It's not your fault."

"Maybe... maybe you should go home and rest."

"Are you sure?" she asks. She hadn't expected him to suggest that she leave, but she's grateful he's the one to have brought it up. She won't worry less about leaving him, but at least this way she thinks she'll feel far less guilty.

"I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to stay here if you're in pain either." He shakes his head. "This is so messed up."

"It's not messed up," she says. "Some over-the-counter pain medication will fix everything."

"That's not what I mean," he says. "I don't know why I'm like this. Like, a minute ago, I thought I was fine, but now I'm... not sure. Not scared, exactly, but… anxious?"

"Why are you anxious?" she asks.

"I don't know why. It's like, I'm scared that if you leave, something bad is going to happen, but I don't know what and I don't even know why I think that. It makes no sense. It's..." He lets the sentence fade, unfinished, and lowers his eyes. "Sorry."

"it's okay, sweetheart. You don't need to be sorry," Beth-Anne steps forward to hug him, and he hangs onto her as tightly as he had the night before, when she'd first found him in his front hallway.

"If you leave, you'll still come back later, right?"

"Yes, probably around lunchtime. Ginger and Stan are going to hang out with you for a while, and by the time I get back, maybe the doctor will be ready to let you go."

"What if he doesn't let me go by lunchtime?"

"Then I'll stay with you until he does, but I can't see him keeping you much longer. He only wanted you to be here for observation, likely just until the medication wore off."

"I think it's worn off already," he says.

"If you think you need something else, you can ask the nurse."

"I can't," he practically whispers.

"If you can't ask by yourself, I'll help you," Stan intervenes. "Why don't you let Beth-Anne go and take care of whatever she needs to do? Ginger and I can look after you in the meantime."

"That's right," Ginger adds. "And if it's cuddling you're looking for, you know I'm brilliant at that. Hugs before drugs."

Stan makes a nondescript noise that might be the offspring of a laugh and a grunt, and says to no one in particular. "This is the child I've raised."

Ginger laughs. "You've done well, Stan. I wouldn't be who I am today without you."

Nikolai hesitates, but finally acquiesces and releases Beth-Anne from his almost desperate hold. "Okay," he says. "You can go now, but you have to promise you'll come back."

"I promise I will," Beth-Anne assures him. "Is there anything you want me to get from your house while I'm out?"

"I don't know. My glasses and my toothbrush. A change of clothes. I can't think of anything else right now."

"That's fine," she says. "That should get you through the rest of the day anyway. Tomorrow, I can take you over there and help you pack up anything else you're going to need at my place. Sound good?"

He nods. "Yeah. Thank you."

Satisfied for the moment that Nikolai is in safe hands, Beth-Anne says farewell and makes her way out of the hospital as quickly as she can, before she changes her mind about it.

She doesn't know how she and Nikolai are going to cope over the next few days, but she insists to herself that they'll get through it just like they've gotten through every other difficult situation they've encountered so far. She wants to be optimistic, telling herself that once Nikolai has been in a safe, stable environment for a while, he'll be less clingy and scared, and he'll start to feel better.

Staying occupied will help too, she thinks. She'll have to come up with some ideas to keep him busy until he's ready to venture out into the world again, because she certainly won't have him sitting around on the couch all day doing nothing and sinking deeper into the chasm of depression, hopelessness and self-pity. When he's able to be up and around... Well, she knows exactly how she's going to occupy him then, and she's already resolved not to take no for an answer.

The biggest problem she hasn't devised a solution for at this point is Anya. She has no clue where Anya is, whether or not she'll be back, or whether she'll want to see Nikolai if she does return. One thing she is reasonably certain about however, is that if Anya comes back and discovers Nikolai isn't at home, Beth-Anne's home is the first place she'll look for him.

Beth-Anne has absolutely no intention of letting Anya into her house. She knows she can't stop Nikolai from seeing his wife if he wants to, and she'd already told Stan that she doesn't plan on interfering in their marriage, but there's no way in hell she'll allow a potential confrontation between them to take place under her roof.

She'll have to discuss everything with Nikolai when he's feeling up to it, she concludes. He may say he doesn't want to see Anya at all, and that would make the solution a simple one, but she suspects it's not going to be that straightforward.

Nothing's ever easy, is it? says a little voice in the back of her mind.

No, most things aren't, she concedes, but she knows from experience there are outcomes that are worth the effort and people who are worth making an effort for. Stan likes to say 'people before practice', and Beth-Anne believes wholeheartedly in that.

People before almost everything else, because other than the basic necessities of survival, nothing matters more than people and the connections they build in one another's lives.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #nikolai pavlenko #beth-anne jones #stan kovac #ginger holmes #stargazersims

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