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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello.

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?”

He finally blinked, licking his lips again.

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.

“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.

2K notes · View notes

holrye · 7 days

Text

A love she can't have

summary: a window into the sacred nights of a small island kingdoms queen and her lover

tags: plot divergence, smut, fluff, light angst, yearning, implied chubby reader (section is tiny)

a/n: ahhhh, so I'm super nervous to post this, lol. Im not the most confident in my writing, and I've been working on the idea for this for so long. tbh I don't know if I like how it turned out. I made so many different versions, and this is the only one that stuck. I hope you guys like it :)

One night, every six or seven months, the estate of this small island kingdom is empty.

No bustling of maids and butlers as they prepare meals and clean. The orange hue of the lights inside are dimmed and the sheer curtains are often drawn.

A tradition, some would call it. Others would say it's strange. What could the young ruler do all to her lonesome up in that immense estate? Does she force her staff to leave for nefarious reasons? What secrets could she be hiding? All fair questions that will go unanswered for as long as you live.

Privacy as the ruler of a nation is somewhat expected to wane upon your coronation. The kings and queens before you knew this, and were mindful of it. But never has a ruler taken so many precautions as you on these particular nights. These nights were often random to the public as well, the only sign being when the staff are ushered from the large french doors at the estates entrance.

What could the diligent leader be cooping herself up for?

Oh, if they only knew…

If your people only knew that their queen was hiding a scandalous affair, with a pirate no less. What would people think? They’d say you’d gone insane, and were seduced by some horrid marauder. You’d lose every ounce of power you gained and be left to fend for yourself. Not a thing to your name other than the clothes on your back, they’d raid the estate and denounce you.

So, these nights are secret. Whispers between you and your midnight guest that never leave the halls of the estate.

Though the guest in question is far less worried about the conspicuousness of your meetings. Not because he lacks care for your reputation, but because some would say he's a bit obtuse. A fool in love with someone he should never associate with.

You only become aware of his visits hours before he arrives, leaving you little time to fruitfully convince your entire staff to leave. Though it sounds unchallenging, your estate employs hundreds of people. Gardeners, chefs, handmaids, every task you could do yourself is done for you, mostly at the behest of your late mother who ruled before you.

There's only so many excuses you can use without sounding suspicious. You want them to spend the night with their families or you’d like the estate to yourself or you had an awful mark on your back you didn’t want anyone to see as you bathed (that last one only made your head maid look at you worried).

By now, they’d chalked it up to your eccentricity. The queen is just a bit strange. It made you more likable to some, relatable. There was little judgment, at least to your face, though that too was likely because of your rank. You cared little, as long as they were all gone before he blew in.

He usually arrived just before midnight, his boat tied just off shore. A small cove sat behind your estate, sharp boulders and thick shrubbery concealing it. This is where he hides his vessel, only doing so after it was nearly found the morning after by a gardener.

You scolded him harshly in your letters through the following months.

You’d wait on your bedroom balcony, watching the bushes. Sitting at the small table, eagerly stirring your cup of tea and waiting. Your feet are bare, cold from the breeze and the stone underfoot.

The chill of soft trepidation is a feeling you’ve come to know since you met him. An almost nauseous feeling in your stomach, stiff cold limbs, a heavy chest. The months worth of built up suspense that has you on the edge, tempting you to jump.

Only when a hint of tanned skin is seen through the leaves, does your chest tighten. The bush moves again and his body pushes through, nearly falling to the grass. He catches himself before looking up to your balcony.

A smile stretches his freckled cheeks, and his feet are moving again.

You stand, gulping the last drink from your cup before hastily fixing yourself. Crickets and his heavy breaths as he climbs up the balcony are the only noise throughout the garden. It seemingly makes your heart pound faster, anticipation building in your belly.

With a few more pulls, the man hops over the banister and stands before you. A shallow and shaky breath leaves your nose. Months of letters, declarations of love and yearning built up to this meeting. It always feels like the first time, standing before him in your frilly nightgown. It's embarrassing and euphoric all at once.

“Long time, no see.” His voice is soft, smile apparent as he speaks.

You smile up at him, blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hello, my love.” Your voice is softer than you mean it to be. He moves a step closer, and you notice the small bundle of letters in his hand. They’re addressed to him and the handwriting is your soft cursive. You question his purpose in bringing them, but don’t ask.

“Have you eaten?” You ask. It’s a silly question now that you think about it, the man is known for his appetite.

He nods, still smiling as he moves closer again. His hand meets your arm, slowly sliding up to lay against your neck. The movement is soft, his thumb caressing your jaw as he looks at you.

Your arms move to his shoulders, broad and strong. They slip to the back of his neck, dark, wet hair matting to your hand. He smells of salt water and sweat. He likely had to snow to shore due to high tide, which completely engulfed the cove most nights.

His eyes droop, as he presses a hungry kiss to your lips. It has you curling into him, his full hand meeting your hip. His feet start to move you backward, against the cold stone wall behind you. His hand moves from your jaw to the space beside your head, stealing your breath as he kisses you. Your hands twist into his hair, keeping him there until you both break with a gasp.

He moves his hand to your lower back, pulling you into him again only for you to press a palm to his mouth. His eyebrows twist as he looks at you.

“I have some things inside for you.” You say, cocking your head to the left.

“Of course you do.” He smiles at you again.

Your bedroom, a large rounded room with a bed much too big for one, is lit with hundreds of candles. Two bottles of champagne sit unopened on the table in the middle of the room with two glasses sat to the side. An array of cheeses, bread and fruit sit on a plate to the side as well.

The bedspread is soft below you, your eyes glued to the liquid in the flute as you listen to Ace read your writing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and your head rests against his hip as his voice nearly soothes you to sleep. You want to make a bed out of his tambre and sleep in it forever.

“I fear the selfishness I feel when you aren’t in my company. I cower at the thought of it boiling over and taking hold of me, interfering in my daily work. I yearn so much for the day I can be with you, freely, without the need to veil our flirtation. To think, I rule a nation as a queen. I wield power most only dream of, and yet I feel powerless in your absence. It nearly sickens me.” He pauses, looking at you over the parchment.

“A kiss would satiate me for the time being. I soft kiss that speaks your tenor and goes by your name. I look forward to when we meet again, my love. May that heavenly time come soon.” He ends it by saying your signature out loud. He folds that paper again, placing it back in its envelope.

The look on your face is melancholic, thinking back to the sadness you felt writing those letters to him. How much you missed him and what you would’ve done to see him at the time. It's embarrassing, listening to the heart you poured into the paper for him out loud.

He looks at you again, hand moving to the top of your head. He plays with the hair there, the comfortable silence taking the place of his voice.

“Is Edward well? I heard his health started declining again.” You ask, sipping from your glass again.

He nods, smile fading slightly as he speaks again.

“Yeah, the old man shouldn’t work himself as hard as he does. It's catching up to him.” Whitebeard was an acquaintance of your father, often meeting him for peace treaty signings. Even as a pirate, he’d earned your fathers respect.

“Hardworking as ever.” You smile.

He smiles as you sit up, finishing your glass off and setting it upon the bedside table.

“You're one to talk, your highness.” He chuckles, extending his arm for you to lay against his chest.

“Ruling a kingdom is a lot of work. I do what I have to do. You’d think being a pirate, he’d use more of his free time being…free.” You say. A soft laugh leaves his chest as he nods his head.

“You’d think.” His voice evens out again as he looks down at you.

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, holding it there for a moment. It’s warm. Everything about Ace is. Whether it be his devil fruit or his personality. He warms your heart in a way you’ve never felt before. It makes it harder when you have to watch him leave, his broad form disappearing in the bushes. You’d say goodbye to him with tears in your eyes as he kissed your lips and abandon that warmth until you saw him again.

“You're so beautiful.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, biting your lip when your mouth speaks before you catch yourself. His lips quirk, eyes half-massed as he gazes at you.

“I could say the same about you, sweetheart.” He chuckles.

The room goes quiet again.

He takes your hand in his, pressing your palm to his lips. It's soft and he keeps moving up your arm, to your shoulder. He pauses a moment before looking at you again.

“Is this okay?” He asks, kissing your shoulder again. A blush brightens your cheeks. You know what he's asking.

With a dry swallow, you nod and he smiles for the millionth time tonight. He climbs on top of you, moving from your collar bone up to your neck. Your hands move to his head, grasping the hair there at the sensation. He kisses the section just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

A throaty chuckle falls from him as he starts his descent of your body. A kiss pressed to your collarbone, a kiss to your sternum, a kiss to your belly, it's all too much. His hands meet your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress slightly. He moves down, pressing soft kisses to the middle of your thighs.

“You're so soft.” He says, smiling into your sensitive skin. You sigh, wanting nothing more than for him to ravish you like he’s done so many times before. His hands bunch at the end of your skirt, slowly pulling it up inch by tantalizing inch. It's enough anticipation to make you sick.

He raises the hem to your hips, your lacy undergarments showing. You sit up as he pulls it off of you, your breasts bouncing as they fall. He kisses your lips again, before laying you down on the bed again. Your knees press together, a familiar warmth swirling through your gut and into your core.

His hands land on your hips, softly squeezing the skin that lightly hangs over your panties. Your breath catches when he kneels at the edge of your bed, looping his fingers into your underwear and slipping them down your thighs.

He exhales loudly, seemingly holding his breath before. He takes your knees over his shoulders, nipping at the fat of your thighs. A long stripe from your inner thigh to your groin has you shaking. His hands move to yours scrunched up in the blankets, lacing your fingers together.

A slow lick to your clit leaves you breathless, eyes shutting as you squeeze his hands.

“You taste so good.” it's muffled by your skin, but you understand him. He licks you again, softly sucking your clit into his mouth.

His mouth is so warm and wet, it has you in a euphoric state. This feeling only he can give you, one that you want to feel forever. Making love to Ace felt otherworldly, no matter how many times you did it.

“Ace..ah-” Your voice is caught in your throat, his tongue moving down to your hole.

“Yes, my love?” His tone is mocking, as if demanding you answer him. Your lips are raw, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as you try to speak.

Words fail you, one of your hands moving from his, to his head. Leverage.

He hums into you, slipping his tongue in and out of you a few times before replacing it with his finger. His mouth moves back to your clit and your seeing stars, the blinding white matching the pace of the growing knot in your stomach.

“Ace-” You sigh as your muscles tense up. Your orgasm hits you in waves, leaving your thighs shaking around his face. He sucks the soft skin around your pussy as you come down, hands moving to your thighs.

“Mm, baby…” He says, his voice hoarse as he moves up to your face. Your skin is sticky, hair sticking to your face and palms sweating. He kisses you, the heady taste of yourself on his tongue. Your hands move to his face, draping your arms around his neck.

With little hesitation, he reaches for the buckle of his shorts, dropping them and climbing on top of you. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his hips.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nuzzle your nose into his. With a huff, he’s pushing in and the both of you sigh loudly at the contact. His movements start slow, smooth.

His hips meet yours and your eyes go white. His hand rests next to your head, his thrusts making his bicep flex a bit. It makes you drool, pressing a kiss to his wrist as he evens out his pace.

“You feel so good…hah-” His breathing is erratic and his other hand moves to the fold of your knee. Your head falls back, moans leaving you otherwise speechless. It feels so good, you can’t move.

His pace picks up, quickening as both of you approach your highs. Your breathing is stunted and your eyes are clenched shut. Ace moves his face to the crook of your neck, licking a strip up to your chin. Everything is perfect.

“I love you.” You say, looking him in the eyes. You swear you feel his cock throb inside you.

“I love you too, your highness.” He smirks.

With two or three deep thrusts, he’s finishing inside you. You scream, voice breaking when you finally cum again. He thrusts a couple more times, only pulling out when his cock stops throbbing. Your pussy clenches around nothing, his cum dripping out of you onto the pristine sheets.

He falls into the empty space next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you clench your thighs together again. The aftershocks leave you drowsy and you roll in to his chest, drifting to sleep.

You don’t wake again until the early morning the next day. Ace is awake, his warm hands brushing through your hair. Your eyes scrunch at the brightening horizon before looking back at him.

“You sleep ok?” He asks.

You nod, kissing his jaw before rising to stretch. He rubs a hand down your back and gets out of bed.

Mornings after he visits are melancholy, knowing the inevitable has come to pass yet again. He’ll leave you for another period of time unknown to him or you. Your letters will be the only form of communication you'll have for months. It’s all a bit too much to bear.

You rise, hugging him from behind as he puts his clothes back on. Freckles decorate his back and shoulders and you want to count every one of them.

Before you know it, you stand looking up at him on your balcony wrapped in a sheet. His kiss is as warm as ever, not wanting to leave. You hold him there for a while, tears nearly forming in your eyes already.

“I’ll see you soon.” You nearly whimper. He wipes your eyes with his thumbs, smiling at you.

“I’ll keep you in my thoughts, my love.” He smiles and you remember your gift you still have to give him.

“Wait!” You say, scurrying inside and grabbing a small locket off of your vanity. You hand it to him, and he opens it.

“Keep it close to your heart.” You say. The picture inside is of you, and it warms his heart. A smile creases his eyes as kisses you again. He kisses your cheeks and your forehead as the sun starts to show over the horizon.

“I love you.” He says, slowly stepping back and over the banaster. You reach your hands out one last time, cupping his face and kissing him before he climbs down and runs through the garden.

With one final wave and kiss to his palm, he disappears into the greenery.

No one knows why the queen hides herself away certain nights of the year. Maybe shes up to nefarious activities. Maybe she does have secrets.

Maybe she's just in love with someone she can’t have.

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totallynotsilversora · 1 year

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Hey nerds guess who made another thread about Vash's shooting skills during the finale of Trigun Stampede?

This nerd right here!

(( AGAIN! ))

Because Studio Orange has been driving me insane with how great Vash is as a gunman not just cinematically but realistically! I am NOT getting over this for a while my friends.

Of course, if you hadn't watched the finale yet and want to avoid spoilers, just know this post is gonna be filled with them and if you'd like to see my first analysis on Vash the Pro Gunslinger you can check it out here on tumblr and here on twitter before reading through this one!

Speaking of the bird, this post is also on twitter below:

Oh but wait, don't have one? No worries! I've retyped everything below so you don't have to look at the bird app if you don't want to!

All posts mention guns and shooting because otherwise this analysis would not work at all.

NOW LET'S ROLL!

First off, again, I’m going based on what I remembered from shooting air rifles & other research I’ve gained over the years! Second, I’m not an OG Trigun fan, so do take this thread with a grain of salt!

With that, let’s dive into THEE fight scene:

So right off the bat we’re getting Vash’s “smooth criminal” shot! Notice how he’s lining up his body sideways with his pistol vs forward like in the past. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to shoot one handed: feet shoulder width apart and aligned w/ the gun.

Normally you’d want both feet planted on the ground when firing but since Vash HAS to stay on the move to avoid getting hit AND is being a cocky little shit to his brother, he lets himself lean forward to fire and use that kick back to gently guide him into his next step.

Again, you NEVER fight what’s considered natural movement with a gun! You WILL get hurt! If you want to aim properly you NEED to be relaxed and composed. Vash isn’t fighting against the force of his gun, he follows it with the confidence and poise of a dancer on stage.

And speaking of dancing just look at how Vash makes Knives dance over puddles! Vash has impeccable aim yet he deliberately chooses to shoot in areas that could stun or stumble Knives, knowing he could block the shots, and distract him as he goes behind the corner.

Remember how I said lining up sideways is how you shoot properly? Here he’s firing straight forward using the corner as his shield. Had he not been holding a ticking bomb in his hand he would probably rest the gun on his other hand like he normally does on the rock jutting out.

The second he fired his last shot he dips down to reload and LOOK AT THAT!!

He is practicing proper trigger discipline again!!

You do NOT keep your finger on the trigger when loading in order to prevent misfire. That is BASIC SHOOTING SAFETY!!

And he does this throughout the fight!

When he turns away from Knives to make his way to the corner he lets go of the trigger before he turns back around to fire at him!

He can only hold 8 bullets in that gun and he will make each one count!

He can NOT afford to misfire.

Why??

Because that bullet he loaded was going STRAIGHT FOR KNIVES! Vash is NOT messing around! At this angle it looks like he aimed and could’ve hit Knives' NECK which would be super hard to dodge close range. Knives would have to bend backwards like he did here to dodge.

Shout out to everyone at Orange for the incredible work put into Vash and his shooting! There’s so much care into this show I can’t wait to see more!

Bonus: while we’re here, let’s get into Vash’s stellar reloads starting with this one (my absolute favorite) :

Remember how I said Vash was being a cocky little shit to Knives earlier?

Yeah this is it at it’s peak.

Faced forward, standing still til the last second, and very slowly reloading so Knives hears all 8 clicks before flying out the window.

This is just being mean lol XD

It's because we KNOW he can reload fast! The gif below might be faster by half a second but it's still RIDICULOUS compared to the first one:

Hell, he’s put individual bullets in the chamber midair and slammed a container of them in the SAME FLIGHT! MIDAIR!!!

He did NOT have to mess with Knives like that! Dude's flexin' hard.

In any case, I can’t recommend this show enough! The amount of work and detail put into not just Vash’s skills as a marksman but the acting and storytelling - everything is superb!! What an amazing experience!

Thanks again Studio Orange and Nightow! See you again, soon!

#trigun stampede #vash the stampede #marksmanship #analysis #trigun analysis #shooting #guns #gun #text post #GODDAMN I AM GOING BALLISTIC #LORD #took me way to long to figure out how to make gifs and compress them wtf happened internet

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corrodedbisexual · 1 year

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The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

#tumblr #shadow ban #shadowban #tumblr support #reference

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zoroshark · 7 days

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Hey! This is Zoro coming with an update about my health as quite a few things have happened the past couple of months. As some may know, I've been dealing with chronic pain and illness since February of last year as mentioned in this post here.

A quick summary of it was that I have been dealing with constant bladder and stomach problems suddenly that were disrupting day to day life as they were painful and constant. Despite the multiple hospital visits, nothing was really done and at the time I could only wait to see certain specialists (which required a lot of money to see). Recently however, I finally got an answer to what was causing me pain in one part of my stomach! The culprit was my gallbladder and it has been removed!

The rest of the post will be caught off so for those who want to read in more detail, but one issue has been solved (at least i hope so)!

I also want to note here and thank everyone who's been supportive of me during this rough patch in my life. I also want to thank those who sent money for the GoFundMe! However, due to a few circumstances which will also be explained in the read more section, I will be refunding it all to those who donated.

TLDR version of my reason is that I was advise to do so for the eligibility medical/financial benefits I've been looking into. The refunds should be sent in about a week, so keep and eye out!

TW for Medical related subjects such as surgery.

For what was causing me pain in my stomach, or at least one of the reasons:

Turns out I had gallstones that somehow CT scans and ultrasounds didn't pick up last year, despite the pain and discomfort I was in from them. It got to the point where the pain was so unbearable, I was crying for about 2-3 hours before going to the ER. They found one stone had thicken walls through the ultrasounds and my gallbladder was infected from these stones.

Because of the findings, I underwent surgery to completely remove it during my stay in the hospital. I am now close to two weeks post-op and so far it has relieved most, if not all, of the constant pain I've been in my upper right. While I still have issues elsewhere in my body, it feels nice to have one issue solved. I just hope I don't need another trip to the ER anytime soon.

As for the detailed explanation for refunding the GoFundMe donations:

A few months back I after the go found me, I was accepted in a financial assistance program that made doctor's visits way cheaper. From close to hundreds of dollars to 3 dollars, that was way more an affordable price range for me. Despite that, i kept the donations on hold just in cause anything changed or something wasn't covered by the program until now.

Along with that, I've been applying for disability as I am considered disabled by my psychiatrist due to my mental health. After talking to a few folks who knew about the system, they mentioned that the money from the fundraiser could harm the process in gaining these benefits. Their recommended course of action was to refund the money as a precaution, so I'm following their advice. After the refunds have gone through, I will be closing the fundraiser.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Again, I want to give a massive thank you everyone in general who have supported me through all this. Its been difficult, especially since I had to accommodate to the pain and changes in my body. There has been MANY ups and for sure downs, but I'm still holding on!

Thank you for reading on this update, and expect to see me slowly become active again on here! I'm still in my Zonai phase so expect more content revolving around that, along with possible Zora content. Original works not involving fandoms will also (hopefully) be posted too!

Im also thinking of opening commissions in the future! I'll need to ask about that first due to what I mentioned above, but as far as I'm aware, I should be okay to do so (but don't quote me on it). So keep an eye out!

#zoro rambles #health update #tw medical #gofundme update #lifes been freaking rough man #i still have these other issues giving me problems #but one thing at a time i guess #long post #feels weird thinking I don't have a gallbladder anymore though #I gotta be more cautious about my health now

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chibrary · 2 months

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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Kdaokx/

do you know if this is true? I know Charles and Max drove for the same team, but I thought there wasn’t any documentation saying max/jos recommended Charles for the seat.

First, Max never drove for GP3. He drove in the European Formula 3 Championship, which was combined with GP3 in 2019 to create Formula 3. Charles raced in both series, spending 2015 in European Formula 3 and 2016 in GP3. While they've been merged since, they were two different series back when Charles and Max were driving.

And... it's complicated. When I was trying to verify this for the Chrimer, someone sent me an old Dutch forum post that did imply that Jos suggested Charles to the Van Amersfoort seat but I've found no sources from anyone directly involved confirming this.

Van Amersfoort was asked directly about why he signed Charles in a 2015 interview and said the following:

CLF: When did you discover him and why did you hire him? FvA: "You know, we closely follow several championships including the Formula Renault 2.0 ALPS in which he participated last year. He was very good even though he was only in his first season. I have him so invited to come and do some tests with us and we fell in love with each other (laughs). That's when we started talking with Nicolas Todt."

He did speak extensively about Max and Charles in that same interview:

CLF: What are its strengths and weaknesses?FvA: "It's a very good question, especially when we see this weekend's performances! At the start of the season we often compared Charles to Max, but it seems difficult to me because they have different characters and personalities. completely different. That said, they both have a lot of talent and I think Charles, as much as Max, deserves a seat in F1. Coming back to your question, I think Charles is very good at feeling his car . He knows where he gains time and where he loses. It seems simple like that, but in reality it's very complicated, especially when we're talking about tenths of a second. He's also very good at braking and in games. fast but it is less so on the starts." CLF: Do they have any similarities in their work or their driving?FvA: "Not really. For us, working one-on-one with Charles is fantastic. When Max Verstappen was with us, we also had to work with his father, and it was very difficult because Jos put a lot of pressure on us. To summarize we can also say that Max is an extremely talented driver but we must not forget that he was very well prepared by his father, since he was very young. This is the difference with Charles who is very good but whose preparation is perhaps not at the level of Max's."

I think it would have been natural to bring up any referral for Charles from the Verstappens at either point in the interview. The fact that it wasn't mentioned makes me doubt it was a serious factor.

I did include the line in the 2015 Chrimer (identifying it as a rumor) because its 1. so prolific within fandom and 2. not easily disproven.

My theory is its probably true, but not to the extent that fans-- especially creators on Tiktok who just regurgitate other fan content-- would like it to be. I bet Van Amersfoort was looking at Charles, asked the Verstappens and got a positive answer re: his performance... at that time, Max was entering F1 and a former karting rival three or four series below was not a threat. It's not like putting in a good word was any threat to Max's future.

However, to act like any goodwill from the Verstappens aided Charles' career notably discounts Charles' personal success. This is a review of Charles' first year in single-seaters from before the move to Van Amsersfort happened:

After several starring years on the world karting scene, Leclerc’s car debut season was a long awaited one and it lived up to expectations. A non-score at the Imola opener aside, Leclerc delivered a superb rookie season, maturing and improving round after round, which culminated in a spectacular double victory at Monza and saw a further five podium appearances throughout the campaign. A protege of Nicolas Todt’s All Road Management firm, he has also been superb in his guest Eurocup outings and the chief 2.0 series appears to be a logical next step – one he’s more than ready for. In fact, it wouldn’t be a surprise to see him take a higher jump up the ladder than that.

Charles had tested with three European F3 teams in the lead up to the 2015 season. There was serious interest. Any referral-- whether or not it existed-- was not the reason why he made it into European F3.

#charles leclerc #driver:max #series:f3euro #year:2015 #vgp:ask

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peachesofteal · 5 months

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How many followers have you've gained since posting COD fandiction because I've feel like you're work is amongst the most popular here in COD tumblr?

First, let me preface this by saying: I was born in the 90s and I've been on Tumblr since 2011.

This feels awkward to me (no hate to you anon) and I think it's just because I don't usually discuss this stuff. It's not really of interest to me but I will answer this because you're not the first person to ask something along these lines, and I’ve consistently ignored these types of questions, which is not entirely fair to the askers.

I've had this Tumblr since October of last year (it's not my only one) and I started out originally posting Sandman and TLOU fic. I posted my first Simon Riley fic in early December on AO3, and didn't even bring it to Tumblr until February. Since then, my follower count has grown pretty steadily, and as of today it sits at just over five thousand. I don't really like talking about this because I've seen so many people get down about themselves in the name of the comparison game and I don't enjoy feeling like I am contributing to that. Not comparing myself to others is something that I have consciously worked at doing in all aspects of my life, for my own mental health and happiness, and I don't do it here. I don't like to contribute to it either. This is why (among other reasons) I've never done a follower celebration. I feel guilt about it because I love you all so much and I'm so grateful to our little community that we've built on this blog, I think we've really cultivated a nice space for each other here where we can indulge in the things we enjoy without judgement (ahem) and take comfort in stories, but I have performance/deadline/life in general anxiety and doing follower celebrations have always intimidated me because I would hate to disappoint any of you, and like I said, I don't play the comparison game.

As far as my work being popular on Tumblr, I think my writing can be an acquired taste that is not always for everyone (which is completely okay, as I have said before, I support everyone creating their own experiences and using the block button liberally) and I would disagree with your opinion (respectfully)

At the end of the day: I care more about writing my silly little stories and having a good time with all of you over the amount of notes on my posts or how many people know I exist.

#peaches asks #I really debated answering this and I hope it makes sense

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changbinisms · 7 months

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Two Sides of the Same Coin - Choi Jongho x reader

Summary: Jongho had always been an enigma, holding most people at an arm's length, and you even further. What if there's a reason behind that?

wc: 1,797

non-idol au / office worker au

contains: minor angst?, jealousy, confusion over feelings, y/n is in denial, probably out of character Jongho, implications of alcohol, not proof read

[a/n: it's been a long, long time since I've posted a fic, and even longer since I wrote one, so I'm a little rusty. I'm not 100% happy with it but if I went back and reread it I'd probably talk myself out of it, so hopefully someone enjoys this.]

Few people had the pleasure of being in the company of Choi Jongho, and even fewer had the pleasure of having him enjoy the company too.

He always held the same stony-faced expression on his face, unless of course, he was in the company of his friend group. Then he could always be seen with a smile on his face, laughter leaving his plump lips, and his round eyes crinkled in delight.

That’s not to say that he was stuck up or rude, he just felt most comfortable around his friends, rather than the people that he only really saw in passing.

Unfortunately, you seemed to be stuck in some limbo in between. Not a stranger yet not quite a friend. You got on well with the rest of the group, some could say that you were friends. However, Jongho always seemed to hold you at an arm’s length. Which was a shame really since you had been quite enamoured with the man since you had started working at Aurora & Co. Media.

When it came to interacting with you, he always seemed to go quieter and developed a habit of mumbling. Some could say he had a crush on you but who could be sure? You hadn’t had enough interactions with him to know what he was like around people that he’d taken a fancy to, hell, you didn’t even know if he was interested in people at all.

~~~~

The day seemed to drag in, almost as if it knew that you longed for the comfort of your cosy little flat, and the series that you had halfway binged into the early hours of the morning.

Staring at the clock in hopes of it making time pass faster clearly wasn’t cutting it anymore. Your day was almost done, and you’d ran out of work to do to fill in the gap between the start of your shift and the end of your shift.

Almost like a knight in shining armour, your view of the clock is obscured by Hongjoong’s lithe frame.

“Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I can count on you to turn up to the Halloween party, right?” his eyes almost pleading with you “half of the guys can’t give a straight answer on if they’re going, Hwa said he’s not going after the chaos at the last work party, and San and Wooyoung are going to be insufferable on their own,”

“Joong,” you chuckled at his distress, “you know I would never let you suffer through those two on your own,”

He physically relaxed at your answer, before a cheeky smile crept its way onto his face; “good - because Jongho is actually going to this one,”

And there it was… the “some” that could say he had a crush on you. Maybe Hongjoong had more of an insight into Jongho’s thoughts and feelings since he was in his inner circle, but you couldn’t quite work out what he stood to gain from telling you about a crush that may or may not even exist.

You let out a sigh.

“Hongjo-“

“don’t even try to hide that you’re happy about that, y/n” he cut you off, “we can all see the hearteyes you send him,”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, you fiend,” you hiss back, taking another peek at the clock, “oh would you look at that! My shift’s over! Bye!”

You quickly grab your phone, bag, and cardigan, and head to the cloakroom to collect your jacket and escape this conversation.

Unfortunately Hongjoong follows you, seemingly undeterred by your efforts to elude him.

~~~~

Despite your insistence that you were indifferent to the news that Jongho would be there, you found yourself panic-shopping online to find something that would somehow be both attractive and comfortable – there’s no way you can wear the pink, fluffy bunny costume you wore the year before, which was the product of an ill timed, dumb bet that you lost.

If anyone were to asl, you’d just tell them you were trying to rebuild your costume reputation. No one would know that it was actually an attempt to look good in front of Jongho.

Not that you wanted to look good in front of Jongho of course…

~~~~

Before you knew it, the end of October was upon you and you found yourself in the back seat of a taxi, wedged in between a (slightly) giddy San, and a (most definitely) tipsy Wooyoung on your way to the venue that your team leads at Aurora & Co. had booked for the party.

You prayed to whatever deity was out there to speed up the journey as there was only so much elbowing you could take from them (“oh come on! You totally imagine what it’s like to kiss him” “We finally won’t have to witness you both pining over each other anymore”) while Hongjoong sat in the front trying to contain his giggles.

Promise be damned, you were abandoning him at the first chance you get.

~~~~

Finally arriving at the venue, practically shoving San out the way to get out the taxi, you make your way into the venue, taking in the sight before you.

Twinkle lights adorned the high ceilings and gave the room a subtle ambience. True to typical fashion, your eyes immediately find Jongho, who had come dressed as a vampire complete with shirt, waistcoat, suit trousers and a typical gothic cape, with what you would assume to be droplets of fake blood trailing down his chin and almost trailing onto his neck.

Almost has if he could sense that you had arrived, he was already looking at you or, most likely, in your general direction (you did arrive with three out of seven of his friends), his conversation with Yeosang, the (at first) quiet man with a cheeky streak, seemingly forgotten.

The intensity of his stare proved too much for you, quickly averting your eyes with a light blush making its way across your cheeks.

Thankfully, you’re saved by your absolute favourite people to work with: Jeon Soyeon and, her equally devilish partner in crime, Kim Seungmin. Most people would assume that their personalites would clash, what with Soyeon having little time for shit-stirrers and Seungmin being the biggest shit-stirrer in the office, but it came as a surprise when they met and struck up what is possibly the funniest friend duo.

“Well look who decided to show up actually looking decent this Halloween!” Seungmin laughed, smile stretching across his face exposing his pearly whites. Beside him, Soyeon tittered and affectionately rolled her eyes. You wonder just how many times she had heard him say similar things before you arrived.

“Minnie, you know fine well that I rocked that bunny suit,” you fired back “much better than whatever the hell you’re wearing right now”.

~~~~

True to office fashion, the party only took off from there. You had long since lost track of Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung, and more importantly, Jongho. You didn’t need the ribbing that you would get from your friends for so much as glancing anywhere he was stood.

Coming out from the restroom, the drinks that you’d had finally taking a toll on your bladder and took advantage of the large mirrors to touch up your appearance, you turn down the hall to head back to the main room and bump into someone. A someone sporting suit trousers, waistcoat and typically gothic cape…

“Jongho… hey!” you awkwardly state, “glad to see you came, I thought it was just rumours that you were coming,”

He seemed to not know what to reply with as he looked at you, mouth slightly agape. You suppose that’s on brand for him, at least he’s looking you in the eye.

“uhhh… anyway,” you sidestep around him, the awkwardness starting to seep into your bones “I was just on my way back, I’ll see you in there, I guess,”

You go to continue your walk back to the festivities when a hand around your forearm stops you in your tracks.

“wait,” he breathes out before continue, “I wanted to talk to you,”

“sure… what do you want to talk to me about?”

“I-“ he started.

You waited for him to continue but the silence only extended into even more awkward territory, the minutes stretching on and on. Feeling the need to get out of the situation before you started spewing absolute nonsense in an attempt to fill the gap.

You step away from him with a quiet “Soyeon and Seungmin must be wondering where I am, I’ll catch you la-“

Your words are interrupted with a short “what do I need to do to get your attention?” You’re stunned into silence, which Jongho takes advantage of by continuing, “Why does everyone in the office get your attention easily, but you can’t give me a sideways glance? What do I have to do? What do I have to do to get you to like me?”

His short monologue must have caused your brain to short circuit, the words with a hint of jealousy must have flipped some switch in your brain, as you responded with an “is that what you think? You think I don’t like you? If anything, I thought you didn’t like me, you very rarely actually look at me never mind talk to me,”

Jongho seemed perplexed at your words before letting out a “because I can’t. I can’t look at you without getting my words and thoughts all mixed up. I thought if I had a drink or two, I might have been able to work up the courage to talk to you and I messed that up,”

You didn’t know what to say, would anyone know what to say in this situation if they were put on the stop this way? You couldn’t organise your thoughts, your brain processing both nothing and everything at the same time.

So, you did the only thing you could make out in the chaos of your brain. You stepped closer to him and placed your hands lightly on his shoulders and closed the gap.

Your lips pressing to his, relishing in his soft ones. He didn’t respond, his posture stiff causing you to regret your actions. Maybe you misinterpreted what he said, maybe he was wanting closure and nothing else.

Your thoughts finally got the better of you and you start to pulling away, ready to gush excuses and find the nearest exit so you could make your escape and think out how you’re going to get out of this one on Monday, when his body starts to catch up with his brain, and he does something you didn’t think he would.

He kisses you back.

~*~*~*~

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #choi jongho x reader #jongho x reader #ateez imagine #changbinisms writes

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emeraldelysian · 2 years

Text

Lee Know ✧ You Deserve Better

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Requested By: @whatudowhennooneseesyou

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Synopsis: You were in a toxic relationship, convincing yourself that this was what you deserved. When words from your former partner and friend Lee Minho make you question your perspective, you begin to reevaluate this life you live and who you truly find comfort in.

Wordcount: 7.8K+

Warnings: Reader Has Fem. Anatomy, An Awful Boyfriend, Mentions of Weight/Eating, Fingering, Oral (F. Receiving), Dacryphilia, Praise Kink, Protected Sex, Overall Very Soft Smut

Note: I haven't posted in a while, I know. But in return for the long wait, this is the longest piece I've written to date. It took a lot of time and effort so I hope you'll show it some love.

♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

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"Is that what you'll be wearing tonight?" asked Jeff. His voice startled you, as you were lost in thought attaching the false eyelashes. You hadn't noticed him in the reflection of the bedroom mirror.

"Yes," you replied, patting out a minor crease in your yellow dress. "Why?"

He stood at the doorway in his suit, consisting of a dinner jacket, white shirt, and black bowtie. He was just as handsome as the day you had met him. And yet, the simple sight of him made your breathing hitch and your skin prickle.

"I thought we agreed on the purple dress?" he continued, disappointment clear in his tone.

"Did we?" You asked, recalling all the days you spent trying to pick the perfect outfit for his company party. Back when you weren't picking out dresses in an effort to gain his approval, the dress you wore now wouldn't have even been a close choice in your mind. And yet, Jeff was so enthusiastic about the gift when he'd given it to you that you didn't have the heart to admit to him that you didn't like it.

"Don't you think the one I'm wearing is more suitable for the party?" You asked.

"Perhaps it was before but now it's a bit," he hesitated, "you know."

"No, no I don't know."

"Baby, don't back me into a corner. It's not fair." You used to love that nickname. Now it sounded bitter coming out of his mouth.

"No, please, go on." You said flatly.

He sighed. "Tight. It's a bit tight in the wrong places."

"Do you think I've put on weight?"

"No, no, of course not. But I know what you're like. You'll start comparing yourself to all the other women at the party. I don't know, I just... When's the last time you've been to the gym recently? I bought you that membership and the personal trainer but you've only been twice."

"Have you been checking up on me?"

"I ran into Raphael in the changing rooms and he said he hasn't seen you since the second week."

"I've been busy."

"So why did you ask me to hire him?"

"I- I didn't ask you to. You said I needed the toning." You stuttered.

"No, you asked me if you could do with firming up. Think about it, why would you ask me a question about your appearance if you didn't want me to help with your weight problem? You know that I'm a problem-solver, I'll do anything for you. When you tell me you're feeling unattractive, of course, I'm going to read in between the lines and help." He shook his head in disbelief. "Sometimes it genuinely worries me how much you forget our conversations."

You couldn't remember telling him you felt unattractive. But it's true when he said he's a problem solver. He would fix issues you didn't even know you had.

"No why don't you slip out of that dress and put on the purple one that suits you better. Do you want me to pick out the accessories too?"

"Okay," you reply, defeated. You turn back to look at your own reflection. Maybe Jeff was right. As he said many times before, you were a work in progress and he always had your best interests at heart.

He kissed the back of your neck as you checked that your eyelashes were still attached properly.

'I'm lucky to have him,' you reminded yourself, 'He deserves better but he got stuck with me.' And yet, there was still something nagging in the back of your mind. You could barely feel it, but it was still there.

You had been subdued for much of the trip there. It hasn't been until Jeff suggested it that you began worrying about how glamorous the partners of his colleagues were going to look. After a previous function, Jeff had suggested that you may benefit from facial fillers since all that your face now conveyed was tiredness compared to the once expressive, joyous look.

The party was adorned with fairy lights thing on exposed beams. An army of coordinated waiters and waitresses carried desserts and drinks around the room to the many tables surrounding the dance floor. You looked at the meal that was about to be placed in front of you and politely declined. The three courses served before this had been delicious and had Jeff not been sitting next to you, you would have happily devoured every bit. Tonight, though, you had to make sure to leave about a third of each plate untouched, in case Jeff was calorie counting on your behalf. It was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you pulled away from the thoughts you had been having.

There he was, Lee Minho, your former lover turned friend that you had slowly cut off at the persistent suggestions of Jeff. Whether it was jealousy or dislike, you weren't sure, but you knew he had this duality of respect for him as an artist while still not particularly enjoying his company. Somewhere inside you though, you were relieved to see his face after so long. But that feeling was buried so deep beneath the fear of the man sitting beside you, that you could barely acknowledge him.

Minho could read you like a book. He could see the confused look in your eyes as you battled between what you should do next. He gestured at the tablet sitting in the middle of the table.

"Would you like to pick a song?" He asked, hoping it would ease some of the tension. Each table had a tablet with which one could suggest a song for the DJ to play. He passed the tablet to you.

"Do you want my help?" asked Jeff.

"Why?" You asked in return, quickly understanding his look as a You Know Why before continuing, "I was just about to pick out my favorite band-"

"Really?" He chuckled. "I don't think anyone else would want to hear that-"

"I would." Minho interrupted.

Jeff moved to look at him before sending an apologetic smile. "You'll have to excuse my girlfriend. She's not very good at judging the mood of the room." You sank slowly in your chair as if being scolded by a parent. "She only listens to songs past their sell-by date. and nobody truly wants to keep something past their sell-by date, now do they?"

Minho clenched his jaw. He couldn't understand how or why you would choose a man who treated you so poorly. A waiter appeared and Jeff signaled for his attention.

"I'll have a rum and Coke. Minho?"

"A red wine, please."

"I'll have a gin and tonic," you claimed before Jeff shook his head.

"Perhaps it's best if you stick with the soft drinks, hm?"

"Hey, it's our song," Minho exclaimed as the opening bars to the music played. "Do you remember?" You nodded- it had been a favorite of both of yours. "Come on, then. Let's relive our youth." He gestured his hand out to you and as you both stood up, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend. His disapproving expression marred your enjoyment of the moment. You felt self-conscious as with each twist of the arm or move of your foot. You couldn't wait for the song to finish, but as you hurried back to Jeff, he blanked you and walked towards the bathroom. You felt Minho's hand on your arm again as he reached the table.

"You don't have to put up with this shit," he hissed.

"With what?"

"You know what. You are not the idiot he wants everyone to think you are. I'm sorry if I'm stepping over the mark, but I can't hold my tongue any longer. Every time I see you two at one of these functions, he behaves in the same patronizing manner, and it pisses me off. I respect that you didn't want a relationship with me anymore, and I'm not saying any of this because of that. But over time, you've been cutting off your friends and people close to you. He belittles you in front of everyone at every given opportunity. Over the years, I've watched you transform from this warm, confident woman into someone who processes everything she thinks before she says it in case her boyfriend disapproves. He is a bully and you are not yourself when he is around. You yearn for something more, I can see it in your eyes. You just don't know how to find it. But there is more to you than what he is allowing you to have."

You opened your mouth, ready to offer a rebuttal to the statement he made in order to defend yourself and your boyfriend, but nothing came. You recalled all the times he would limit your relationships with others, the music you listened to, the clothing you wore, and the food you ate. You could barely leave the house without him, let alone make decisions that didn't suit his needs. It was the first time in your relationship that you couldn't bring yourself to defend him.

In that time, your boyfriend arrived and it wasn't much longer before you two had to leave. The words of your former friend stuck beside you though. Did you really change as much as he made it seem? What exactly did you yearn for?

The next day, during your break at work, you played around with your food, packed by Jeff himself with a note that reminded you not to eat anything extra besides what he had packed. It was such a silly thing, you realized, that he even had power over what you ate and how much it would be. Minho wouldn't have judged you in such a way.

Before long, you found yourself comparing things that your boyfriend did with things that Minho had once done. Your breakup all those years ago was simply a matter of timing. You both were focusing on your own careers at that point and mutually agreed to end the relationship while still remaining friends. And yet, it hadn't mattered in your case. With Jeff came the necessity to stop moving forward in the things you loved, as he was more important.

It was only then you realized that the feelings you had for Jeff were mostly just you convincing yourself that you loved him. You sacrificed your own wants and needs for a man you thought was too good for you when in reality, you wanted more. You wanted to have the career you had long forgotten. You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted- no, needed to see Minho again.

It was only then that you realized the time. 12:45. You were 15 minutes late to text your boyfriend. Every day at your shift from work, he would make it a rule for you to call him at 12:30 because it was your break time. You quickly checked your phone to find six missed calls and two text messages. Shit.

You hurried back into the toilets to call him privately. If you didn't come up with a satisfactory explanation for the delay and convince him of how sorry you were, his bad mood might stretch for days.

He answered after one ring but said nothing. You opened your mouth but just as you were about to speak, you heard Minho's voice again.

There is more to you than what he is allowing you to have.

There is more to you.

And for the first time in your relationship, you chose not to apologize to keep the peace and instead, hung up. His name flashed on your screen once more but you pressed decline. Then, you left the bathroom, made your way back to your desk, and grabbed your things.

"Everything okay?" asked your manager from his desk in the corner of the room. He was an old friend of Jeff's.

"Never better," you announced. "And now, I'm going home."

You didn't wait for his reply before exiting the building. It wouldn't be long before your manager would call your partner to report your unusual behavior. But it didn't matter because you wouldn't be returning. By the time you had reached the shared apartment ten minutes later, your boyfriend had called another six times.

There is more to you than what he is allowing you to have.

Occupied with anticipation and fretfulness, you packed a suitcase with clothes and other necessities as you pondered about where you might go. For now, you decided, it was best you at least find a room in a hotel for the night before you figured out your next plans.

By the time you left the home, it had begun to rain. You quickly sent one final text to your now ex-boyfriend, letting him know that you were done with the relationship and that he needn't worry about ever seeing you again. You shivered as you walked down the street in the cold weather. In moments like these, you wished you had a car but Jeff had said it was unnecessary; that he could drive you where you needed to go, and unless you were hiding something from him, you shouldn't mind.

Being so engulfed in your thoughts, you didn't realize you had wandered onto someone's doorstep until you reached the stairs leading up to the door. It was only then that you noticed whose house you had found yourself at.

You stood outside the doorway for about 10 minutes, wondering if you should ring the doorbell or just give up and go to a hotel. Going to a hotel would mean it would be harder for anyone to find you. Knocking on Minho's door, however, meant you could find safety in numbers.

Taking a deep breath in, you knocked on the door lightly. You waited there for a minute, before deciding to turn around and go down the steps.

'This is so stupid. Why would he want to talk to you after you cut him off. Stupid, stupid-'

"I didn't know my front steps were that stupid, kitten." You turned around, eyes wide at the realization that you had been talking to yourself out loud. The shock was quickly replaced with relief however at seeing a comforting face. Tears brimmed your eyes and you tried to swallow back the urge to cry.

"I'm sorry, Minho."

His smirk dropped into a look of concern. He looked behind you at the suitcase you were holding and quickly put two and two together.

"Hey, don't apologize, come inside. Let me get your things for you. The cats really missed you, you know."

You hoped that the rain covered your tears well enough for him not to notice as you gave him the suitcase. "Soonie and Doongie? I haven't seen them in so long, I think they probably forgot about me."

"We- I mean, they would never forget about you. I did get a new cat though, her name is Dori."

"Stop, you have a new cat? I can't wait to meet her."

The conversation flowed as you learned about the updates in Minho's life throughout the rest of the evening. He let you use his bathroom to take a warm bath and change while he made you some hot chocolate. The ease that radiated off of the two of you was something you hadn't felt in a really long time. It was a feeling that you didn't realize you missed it until you had it once again.

Late in the night, you had drifted off to sleep in the guest bedroom. Or at least, Minho hoped you did and weren't just lying there awake in panic or worry. While Minho did feel a bit tired, he couldn't help but convince himself to stay awake just a little bit longer in case you needed something. However, 'a little bit longer' turned from a few minutes to a few hours as he kept himself occupied with anything from scrolling through social media to reading a novel by Keigo Higashino.

It was around 2:00 AM when he heard your shift. Not thinking anything of it, he continued reading. It was only when he heard mumbles followed by your repeated cries of "Please, please no" that he bolted out of bed. He knocked on your door before entering.

You were still asleep, frightened whimpers spilling out of your mouth as you tossed and turned. Minho sprung into action, moving towards the bed and kneeling down beside you, gently shaking your shoulders to help you wake up.

Your eyes opened as you shot up in bed, dazed and confused at your surroundings before your eyes fell onto Minho. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him as you buried your face into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You mumbled repeatedly as you gripped his hoodie as tightly as you could.

Minho tried to keep his composure but inside, his heart broke. You were sorry? You had nothing to apologize for. This wasn't your fault. He held you tightly to his chest, finally dealing with how weak your frame had become. It was the physical evidence of how much you withered away in the arms of the previous relationship.

You both shifted as he sat on the bed with you in his lap as he cradled your head with one hand and held you tightly with the other. He brushed his fingers through your hair, allowing you to cry onto him. Slowly, your breathing steadied itself and your tears slowed.

"It's okay. I'm here," Minho whispered, "Do you need anything?"

You shook your head no, loosening your grip on his hoodie slightly before making what you hoped was one small request. "I don't need anything. But, is it okay if you stay here with me? I don't know if I can be alone right now."

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, kitten."

"P-please?" You whimpered, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms at that moment. And who was Minho to deny your shy request?

He laid you down onto the bed before laying down himself. He tried to keep some distance between the two of you, but it was hard since you were very adamant about holding onto him. In the end, he ended up wrapping an arm around you while you still held onto his hoodie as you both faced one another.

"You know, if you let go of my hoodie, I won't disappear." Minho chuckled, even though deep down, he loved the feeling of being able to protect you.

You smiled shyly as you loosened your grip, "Well, it's not my fault you have a really nice hoodie."

"Do you want to wear it then?"

"Are you sure? You might get cold." He couldn't help but coo at how adorable you were for caring about his well-being. Before you could protest any further, he took off his hoodie and handed it over to you. He looked the other way as you put it on.

When he finally turned back around and looked at you, he finally realized what he had done. His hoodie on you was going to be the death of him. A silence fell between both of you as you two stared at each other.

It happened so fast. One moment, you sat beside each other and the next, you had your hands locked in his hair as your lips danced together in harmony. They knew this dance, they had done it many times before. Only this time, this time, it was different. You couldn't pinpoint exactly how, but it wasn't the same.

It wasn't just two lovers kissing one another. It wasn't passionate and desperate and rushed. This was the kiss of two people who had longed for each other for years without knowing it, convincing themselves that it had been the wrong place, wrong time. This wasn't a kiss that felt like the burning sensations of fire; instead, it was languid and soft, almost domestic. You craved him now just as much as he craved you.

"Are you sure you want to do this, kitten?" He knew he wanted this desperately, to feel your body under his. To touch your skin and make you moan in the ways that only he could. But he also wanted to make sure it was something you wanted.

"Yes, yes please, Minho. I want- no I need you. Please." That's all it took before his mouth was on yours again. He kissed you with hunger, setting your nerves ablaze. It wasn't overwhelming though, as he watched your facial expressions with every move he made to ensure that you were okay. He gently laid you back down onto the bed before kissing down your jawline and neck. He paused at the point between your neck and shoulder blade before gently sucking and nipping at it.

You covered your mouth with your hand to hold back a moan. It was something that became a habit for you after your last relationship, where your previous lover scolded you for being too loud. Minho quickly realized you holding yourself back and pulled back to look at you. He gently moved your hand away from your mouth and kissed you.

"Don't hold your moans back for me, kitten. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

He caressed your cheek as you nodded in affirmation, before continuing to work. He debated on whether or not to take the hoodie off of you. Deciding to leave it on, he instead pulled it up slightly to reveal your stomach.

It felt as though he left no part of your skin untouched by him as he loved every scar, stretch, and mark of yours. To him, you were his universe. Every mark was just a star on your body that his lips and tongue would form into constellations. You were a map of space, and him, a mere astronomer.

A moan fell out of your mouth as he reached the outline of your panties. With one hand on your stomach, he used his other hand to gently rub you through your panties, eliciting a soft gasp from you.

"What color, kitten?" He asked, using the stoplight system that they had once been so accustomed to.

"Green, Minho. God, please don't stop." Thankfully, he had no intention to as long as you were fine with it.

Every move he made was careful, calculated. He wanted to make sure that you knew how beautiful you were. How much you truly meant to him. And he wouldn't stop showing it until you started believing it again.

He moved your panties to the side and ran his hand once more up against your slit.

"Hm, so wet for me already? Did you miss me that much?"

You wouldn't admit it, but you did. You missed his fingers desperately. Yet, even if you didn't say it out loud, your body gave it away, Nobody could make you react quite like he did.

You instinctively tried to close your legs but he wasn't having it. He opened your legs once more before pushing one of his digits into you. You call out his name as you brushed your fingers into his hair, gently pulling. A shaky moan slipped passed your lips as you felt him push a second finger in, and then a third, keeping his pace as he pumped in and out of you with ease.

His other hand gripped onto the outside of your leg as he left small hickeys into your inner thighs. The trail moves closer and closer to your core until finally, his lips reach your nub.

His breaths along your skin were leaving you breathless. His tongue flicked over your clit once and involuntarily, you moved your hips closer to him, trying to keep that sensation.

He laughed quietly, before brushing your tongue against your clit a few more times as he still continued to pump in and out of you. You whined as he pulled away.

"How is it, kitten?"

"S'good Minho. I'm so close. So close." Every muscle of yours was on edge as you panted. He loved how you looked beneath him, so open to his touch.

"When you feel it, just let it go. Squeeze your legs around me and moan my name." He moved back towards your heat, but instead of putting his fingers in as he did before, he licked at your opening, small strokes at first that had you trembling. You must have been soaked by then, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his tongue inside of you. He pumped it in and out, not leaving any curve untouched. The sensation had you gripping at the bed sheets as you tried to compose any bit of sanity and control you had left. It felt impossible though, with the overwhelming amount of pleasure. It was when his thumb landed on your clit, rubbing in circles that the combination had thrown you over the edge.

A wave of euphoria washed over you as you released, legs squeezing around his head as they shaked. You could only release a choked sob at the feeling, crying out to him at how good it felt. Once you reached the end of your high, you realized the arousal within you hadn't stopped. You needed more. You whimpered at him, trying to nonverbally signal at him what you needed.

"What do you want, kitten? Use your words like a good girl." He knew exactly what you needed, but he needed to hear you say it. You mumbled something quietly, too softly for him to hear it.

"What was that?" It was then that you looked him in the eyes.

"Lee Minho, I need you inside me," you declared more loudly, "Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely, kitten." You watched him with half-hooded eyes as he got up from the bed and removed his pants. You swallowed as you watched him stroke himself, your pussy throbbing once more at the sight.

He licked his lips before reaching into the drawer for a condom. He unwrapped the covering before slipping it on. Minho then settled between your thighs once more. He slowly rubbed the head of his member on your slit. The action had you wiggling your hips up to meet him, wanting so desperately to feel him in you. He slowly entered you and waited for you to adjust and give the color before he continued.

You wrapped your arms around his neck once more as he moved above you. He tried to control himself from moving too erratically at the feeling of your tight walls against him. He moved slowly at first, picking up the pace gradually. Before long, his hips moved against yours fluidly. He planted kisses all over your face as he continued, watching for any signs of discomfort or distress.

His body pressed against you so closely. He pressed his lips against your forehead before placing his own onto yours. You were getting close again as the familiar tightness in your stomach came back. But this time, you were going to hold it. You wanted to finish with him.

It wasn't long before the waves hit you both as you dragged your nails against his back. You both chased your high, you clenching around him as his head landed in the crook of your neck and shoulder once more. His body then went limp next to you as you both panted, exhausted from the deed. You curled up into him as you caught your breath.

"You had that pent up in you for a while, huh kitten?"

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