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#Look I made these at 1 in the morning in 5 minutes
l-starlight-l · 1 day
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The love of a hero
A Quick Trim
Masterlist
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
A/n: I’ve been half way finished with this one for awhile but finally finished :)
Description: You and Jason spend a lovely afternoon off together
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
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It was your first full day off since you had started your job at Arkham Asylum. You were unsure with what to do with yourself. Instead of just laying around your apartment you had decided to go explore the city. A few weeks ago on your way to work you stopped by the best coffee shop, remembering this you set off in the shop’s direction.
On your trip out you grabbed a few groceries for the week and a new outfit for a gala you had been invited to. It was a fundraiser for the asylum that was generously hosted by the famous play boy Bruce Wayne. While you were walking home you happened to pass the coffee shop again, the barista called the name Jason which caught your attention. As you turned to look through the shops open window you and him made eye contact. A big smile slid across his lips as he walked towards you. “Hey neighbor” he greeted you warmly, “have you tried this place before?”.
You shook your head softly, “I had some this morning actually, it’s sooooo good” a light laugh escaped your lips as you took in his beautiful smile.
He reaches for the bags in your hands and you let him take them. “What a gentleman” you tease, “you must have women throwing themselves at you”. He puts a hand to his chest and acts as if he’s hurt. You laugh at his dramatics and he admires your happiness.
The two of you walk back to your apartment building while chatting. When you reach your apartment, you unlock the door and let him inside. As he sets down your grocery bags he asks, “so do you have any important plans for today”.
You take a minute and pretend to think as you start to put your things away, “you know now that I’m thinking about it, I have some pretty good books waiting for me” you joke but watch as his fcae changes into disappointment. Your heart aches when you see the look in his eyes, “would you like to stay over for a little?” You offer softly. He looks up at you as you catch yourself staring at him, but you don’t look away when he notices it.
He smiles and shakes his head, “I would love that” he says happily while helping put away some food. You smile to yourself at his response, the two of you had been getting closer. You two hung out almost every day you could and you were starting to grow feelings for him, although you weren’t sure if they were platonic or something more.
You watched him from across the kitchen, taking in his energy. You notice something was frustrating him but couldn’t tell what. When he would look down you could see his bangs fall into his eyes, you let out a breathy laugh as you realized. “your hair” you hummed, “it’s getting pretty long huh”. The glare he sends your direction catches you off guard, he’s never look at you like that and you didn’t know how to feel. “Sorry, sensitive topic” you said holding up your hands in defense.
His face softens as he shakes his head, “sorry I’ve just been hearing the same thing from my family all week”. As he finishes unpacking the last bag he notices all the ingredients for his favorite baked good, “cookies?” He says like a question.
You shake your head, “do you want to make some” you say moving closer towards him, you bravely let your finger push his white bangs out of of his face. He’s silent, he can’t take his eyes off you and how close you are to him. He nods his head overwhelmed by your touch. “Good” you say catching yourself and backing up a bit, “I’ll trim your hair and then we can make some”
You pull up a chair for him to sit in and grab a pair of scissors. “Don’t fuck up my hair” he says jokingly but you can hear the concern in his voice. You laugh and reassure him you won’t.
You start in the back, taking off little bits of his dark hair at a time until you’re satisfied. As you brush through his hair you notice a lot of scarring, your heart aches a bit for him but you ignore it. He would tell you about them if he wanted to talk about it and you respect that he doesn’t. You move to the front and take his salt and pepper bangs in between your fingers and lean in. While trimming the hair in your grasp you met his eyes, you suddenly realize how close you two are. His lips are inches away from yours and that makes your face heat with a blush. You caught yourself starting to lean in like your body knows you crave his kiss but you jump back hoping to not make it weird.
You hand him a mirror so he can admire your hard work. He checks himself out for a minute and then lets a deep laugh slip from his lips, “a doctor and a hair stylist” he says looking back up a you. You can’t tell if he’s flirting or not but before you can respond he jumps up and heads to the kitchen, “cookie time” he chimes.
You two spend the next hour doing more flirting than baking, and somehow end up with perfect cookie. When the timer goes off you get up to take the cookies out. As you put them on a plate the smell fills your nose, it’s sweet and feels like home. You bring the plate to the living room where Jason awaits book in hand. He perks up when he sees the plate, he picks up the biggest cookie and takes a bite. A moan escapes his lips and you let out a surprised laugh, “you must really be enjoying those cookies” you tease.
“This taste identical to the ones I use to have as a kid” he says taking a few more and going back to his book. You sit back down next to him, your legs are in his lap as he rests one of his hands gently on your calf, rubbing up and down in smooth motions. You pick up your book and begin to start reading but a thought comes to you. A thought about the cookie recipe you use and how only one person knows it other than you. A certain butler that bakes for the bunch of adopted Wayne kids, but you shake that thought away. There’s no way you counter, you would definitely know if Jason was one of Bruce Wayne’s kids, right?
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Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 7
House of the Dragon Season 1
Aemond x TargaryenOC
Chapter Word Count: 3931
She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.
From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.
A/N: Bit of a shorter chapter (it was always supposed to be) before we get into the craziness of the next chapter! Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03
Let me know what you think!
Masterlist A03
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
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The ball continued into the early hours of the morning, until the majority of guests had retired to their rooms, and those lacking in common sense, including Aegon, were sprawled on the remaining chairs and tables, lost to their cups.
Aemond waited at the edge of the room, watching as every guest slowly made their way out. Aelinor left early, escorting her weary mother back to their chambers. He wished to speak with, needed to speak with her about what had happened, but he knew that Aelinor had been exhausted by the night’s events. Besides, he had more important things to do.
Lucerys left the room shortly after midnight, the Queen only a few minutes later with Helaena at her side. Jacaerys remained dancing with his betrothed until nearly two hours past midnight, when Baela retired as well. Aemond was surprised to see Jacaerys begin to make rounds of the room, holding the same glass of wine yet sharing a sip with every lord or lady who had lingered. The bastard was politicking, rather well if Aemond was forced to admit the truth. No matter how drunk these lords might be, they would not forget clinking their goblets against that of a future king. 
But Aemond didn’t give a shit about politics. 
He didn’t care what his mother would do if she knew what he was doing. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to do. All he knew was that he intended to right a wrong, and he wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way.
Jacaerys eventually set his empty cup on a servant’s tray, and left the room by himself. Aemond waited only a moment before following him out.
The corridors were lit only by a few torches at this hour, empty except for the echoing sound of their footsteps. Not even the servants were about at this time of night, and anyone sensible would be sound asleep in their beds, preparing for the petition to be heard on the morrow. Everyone in court would be expected to attend, regardless of how much they had drunk the night before. Nor would anyone want to miss the event.
Jacaerys turned a corner, heading down one of the shortcuts that led to the Princess Rhaenyra’s chambers. Aelinor was there now, probably sound asleep in her bed. Aemond tried not to dwell too much on what she may look like, sprawled on her pillows with her hair wrapped around her like spider silk. Probably sleeping peacefully, probably already having decided to forgive her mother and brothers for the insult they had afforded her. But Aemond was not so generous.
If Aelinor knew what he was doing, she would be furious with him. He knew it, nor could he pretend to be so aloof as to not care. But for nine years he had wallowed in the memory of letting those bastards walk all over him, humiliate and maim him, and he would be damned if he let them do the same to Aelinor.
Jacaerys turned one more corner, this corridor lit by the silver moonlight shining through the windows, and Aemond made his move. He caught up to Jacaerys in a few steps, grabbing the boy by the back of his collar and slamming him against the wall. Before Jacaerys could even react, Aemond had his forearm pressed against his throat.
“Nephew,” he hissed.
Jacaerys coughed. “Uncle. I knew someone was following me.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have wandered down unoccupied corridors.” Aemond drew back, slamming the boy into the wall with renewed force. Jacaerys let out a strangled cry, breathing heavily. 
“What do you think you’re doing?”  Jacaerys demanded. “How dare you?”
“How dare I? How dare I ?” Aemond pressed hard on his nephew’s throat, enough that he knew it would leave bruises. “You think you can levy an insult of that magnitude, and it will not be answered. You thought I would not answer it?”
“What insult?” Jacaerys dug his fingernails into Aemond’s arm, trying to push him off with surprising force. Aemond might have been impressed, as if it weren’t for the leverage and the blows he had already dealt, his nephew might have succeeded. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No? Think hard, Nephew, else I might see fit to take things into my own hands.”
“I have done nothing to you!”
“Not to me!” Aemond roared, tossing Jacaerys to the floor. He landed awkwardly on his arm, the limb buckling beneath him when he tried to stand.
“You’re mad!” Jacaerys protested. “This will be answered.”
Aemond kicked, striking Jacaerys’ leg and causing the boy to scramble back. “You dare stand in front of the court and insult her, and then spend the rest of your night in revelry. And you thought that I would stand for this?”
“Her? Who is…” Understanding dawned in Jacaerys’ expression, and he climbed to his feet. “Is this about Aelinor?”
Aemond stalked forward. 
“It is, isn’t it?” Jacaerys shook his head. “Aemond, I don’t know what you’re imagining, but I did not insult Aelinor.”
“No? Then you did not announce your betrothal to someone else, and then leave your sister to face the speculations of the court as to why you might have rejected her? Tell me, Nephew, how that is not an insult.”
Jacaerys’ eyes widened. “Surely…Oh but Aelinor knows better than to listen to court drivel. Besides, she did not want to marry me.”
Aemond knew this, had gleaned as much from his conversations with Aelinor, and yet it did not completely soothe his fury.
“And I did not want to marry her!” Jacaerys should have shut his mouth when he had the chance.
Aemond lunged, managing to catch his nephew by the arm and slam him into the wall. With surprising agility Jacaerys managed to spin away from his fist, stumbling out of Aemond’s reach.
“You are completely mad.” He shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Yes . Aemond thought, Yes, I am going to cut out your tongue for how you’ve treated your sister. For saying that you did not want to marry her .
But instead he drew his fist back to his side, taking a deep breath. “I know what you are, Jacaerys Velaryon. And if you think I would stand for someone like you to speak ill of Aelinor, then you are an even greater fool than I originally believed.”
Jacaerys was holding his elbow, wincing in pain, but he still stood straighter and faced his uncle. “And you think you deserve her? Is that it then? You think Aelinor would ever settle for a monster like you?”
It took every fiber of strength in Aemond’s being for him not to bash his nephew’s head on the concrete. Jacaerys must have seen something in his eyes that frightened him, for he turned and hurried down the hallway, leaving Aemond standing by himself.
A monster. That’s what he was. That’s what everyone in this castle thought he was, and it was only because Aelinor had returned that he had forgotten it at all. Well, he would not forget it again.
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Aelinor could not fall asleep. Though she had been exhausted after the long night, and she knew that the next day would be as if not more eventful, she could not put her mind at rest. 
She had spoken with her mother upon returning to the chambers, where her mother had apologized profusely for not warning her of her brothers’ betrothal announcements. The Princess Rhaenys had been slow to accept Rhaenyra’s offer, and upon accepting had insisted that it be announced prior to the petition hearing the next day. Rhaenyra had held her daughter close and apologized for not telling her, but Aelinor had already forgiven her. 
The evening had been a larger ordeal than she had expected, a gathering of more people than Aelinor could ever remember seeing in one place. It had been difficult to feel herself becoming a topic of conversation, which had caused her to flee. But she did not begrudge her brothers their news, nor was she angry with her mother. The announcement was a good one, and it had only been a little shock at an inopportune time.
She only wished that she had maintained her composure a bit more, so that Aemond had not seen her nearly in hysterics, hiding in the servants hall like a child. She was embarrassed, upset that her emotions had caused him so much distress. She had seen in that hall, practically simmering with rage, and she should have kept her head about her. Instead she had rambled about returning to Dragonstone, about who knows what else, and he had stood there through all of it.
But then, he had also removed his eyepatch, showing her such a catastrophic glimpse into himself that she wasn’t sure she would ever recover. That day on Driftmark nine years ago, the last time they had seen each other, had been burned in her memory. There wasn’t a day that went by when she didn’t recall how it felt to curl up next to him on his sickbed, mourning the loss of his eye and the loss of each other. She remembered ripping the pendant from her neck, from where it had hung every day for five years prior, and pressing it into his hand. It had been her most treasured position, but even at nine years old, she had known that nothing was more important to her than Aemond. 
He had set the stone into his eye. 
Every day when he looked in the mirror, he saw her sapphire. She didn’t want to linger on what that might mean.
But her mind raced anyway, and thus she was awake at three hours past midnight, fetching herself a cup of water and debating whether to ring for tea. The parlor in her mother’s chambers was abandoned at this hour, the entire room lit only by silver moonlight and the dying embers of the fire. There was a chill in the air, and Aelinor clutched her dressing gown closer to her body as she stepped out into the cool room.
She had only just found the pitcher and started pouring when the door opened and Jace stumbled in.
“Are you only just getting back now?” She snorted, watching him trip and collapse on the couch. “How much did you drink?”
He just groaned in response.
Aelinor took her cup and walked over to him. “Come, you must drink this. Mother will have your head if you’re ill tomorrow.”
Jace reached for the cup, before wincing and groaning loudly. He almost sounded as if he were in pain.
“Jace?” Aelinor set the cup on the table and leaned closer. “What…what has happened to you?”
Her elder brother was cradling his arm to his chest, his head thrown back and a ring of bruises around his throat. He was breathing heavily, as if he had run all the way back from the banquet hall.
“Did you get in some kind of drunken brawl?” She demanded, dropping onto the couch next to him. “Good gods, Jace. We’re supposed to be on our best behavior.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Jace winced. “This is your fault.”
“My fault? How could it be my fault? I’ve been in bed.” She lifted her hand, tracing the bruises carefully with her fingertips. If they looked this badly in the near-dark, she didn’t want to see what they would look like in the morning.
“He was apparently defending your honor,” Jace sighed. “Or something like that. I didn’t quite catch it all what with him trying to bash my head into the floor.”
“Defending my…” Aelinor blinked. “Are you talking about Aemond? What happened?”
Jace reached with his good arm for the cup of water, taking a large gulp before speaking. “Your pet decided that I had wronged you with my betrothal announcement, and decided to put me in my place by stalking me through the halls like an animal.”
“He isn’t my pet,” Aelinor chided. “But what? He just…attacked you?”
“From behind!” Jace cried. “And fuck…I don’t even know if I’ll be able to move my arm tomorrow.”
Aelinor was stricken. She had known that Aemond was angry over the announcement at the ball, as he had barely concealed his rage from her, but for him to attack Jace was…it was out of character. Or was it? As she kept being reminded, she didn’t know Aemond as well as she thought she did. She hadn’t known him in nearly nine years. But attacking her brother from behind seemed unchivalrous, and unlike the Aemond who had served her wine at a moonlit dinner in the library.
“Are you sure it was about me?” She asked quietly.
“Yes!” Jace exclaimed. “He said you were upset and that he…oh wait, fuck, Aelinor. Were you upset? I swear, I only found out a few minutes before mother made the announcement, and I would have told you if I could.”
“I know, I—”
“And anyways, I thought we were in agreement that we did not wish to marry each other. I never wanted to hurt you. I just—”
“Jace, I know.” Aelinor cut him off. “I spoke to Mother, and I know you would have told me if you could. And I promise, I do not have nor have I ever held any interest in marrying you.”
Jace breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank the gods. When Aemond said you were upset I thought you might have changed your mind.”
“I most certainly have not.”
“And I’m grateful for it, Sister.”
“As you should be. You’re much better suited to Baela.” 
Jace smiled. “I hope I am. Anyway, I told Aemond that I had no interest in marrying you, and I thought he might try to kill me for it. When I was sure that was what he wanted to hear, but he was lost to madness.”
“He’s not mad.” Aelinor said quickly. “He was just angry.”
“Which I would have understood if it was just about you being upset,” Jace said. “Were you really that distraught by it all, Aelinor? I never wanted it to happen like that.”
With a sigh, Aelinor reached out and patted her brother’s leg. “It wasn’t the announcement, It was just…a big change, and everyone was talking about it, and they were all looking at me and it was a lot for me to process. Aemond was there with me, though, and helped me get away and collect myself. I’m sure he was just worried over me. But I will speak to him, make him apologize.”
Jace shook his head. “I wouldn’t make him apologize for defending your honor, Aelinor, but I do not think you should see or speak to him again.”
“What?” She recoiled. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s dangerous.”
“He’s Aemond.”
“He hunted me through the halls and tried to beat me against a wall.”
“He was angry! I’ll speak to him.”
“No! No, Aelinor,” Jace said firmly. “You weren’t there. He…he was like a monster, Aelinor. And he’s obsessed with you.”
“I care for him as well.” She protested.
“Aemond does not care for you! It is obsession. He is violent and volatile, and I could not live with myself if I let my little sister be with such a man.”
“Be with?” Aelinor forced out a laugh. “I’m sure I don’t know—”
“Aelinor,” Jace reached out to grab her shoulder. “I don’t say this to frighten you, nor to hurt you. But Aemond wants you, and there is no way for this to end that does not result in you getting hurt. I cannot let that happen.”
Never speak to Aemond again? It was an impossible demand, and even now she was trying to rationalize why Aemond might have attacked Jace. Surely it could not have been just about her, surely something else had happened. There had to be another reason. Because Aemond…he was not the monster Jace was making him out to be. And yet, she knew that Jace would never lie to her.
“Please, Aelinor.” Jace implored. “I love you. I would never hurt you. And I cannot let him hurt you either.”
Aelinor swallowed, her mouth feeling dry as cotton. “I love you too. Of course I do.”
But she did not agree to his demands. 
Jace nodded, something like acceptance flashing across his face. He knew as well as anyone that convincing Aelinor to stay away from Aemond was a fool’s errand, having spent the better part of his childhood trying to do that very thing. Now things were different, and yet somehow nothing had changed at all. Aelinor was a woman now, Aemond was either a man or a beast, and Jacaerys was her elder brother. He had a responsibility to her, to protect her. And Aelinor knew that, which was why she did not outright argue with him.
“I’m going to bed,” Jace groaned, standing from the couch. “Hopefully I have a tunic that will hide these bruises.”
“I have some face paint that may do the trick,” Aelinor said, remaining seated as he left. “Ask me in the morning.”
“I’ll be long dead before I let you use your face paint on me,” Jace leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not seven years old and you can’t treat me like one of your dolls anymore. Goodnight, Sister.”
“Goodnight.” She watched him disappear into his own room, limping into the darkness.
She needed to talk to Aemond, needed to understand what had happened to drive him to do something so foolish. If she did not have all the facts by the time her mother and Prince Daemon found out about the attack, then there was no telling what they might do.
But Jace had just asked her not to speak to Aemond, and she didn’t have it in her to disobey him so implicitly, directly after he’d asked her. She knew he only wanted the best for her, and though they might disagree on what that meant, she could not fault his intentions.
Even so, she needed out of these rooms. A walk would be just what she needed to put her mind at rest, and then she could come back, go to sleep and face the troubles of the world in the morning. 
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If anyone were to spot the Princess wandering the halls in her nightdress and dressing gown, there would have been quite the scandal. Luckily the majority of the castle, servants included, were still recovering from the festivities, and so she was able to traverse the corridors unimpeded.
Aelinor wasn’t sure what led her to a familiar set of oak doors, but her feets seemed to carry her there in record time. The door to the King’s chambers was propped open, likely to allow maesters to move freely without disturbing him. When Aelinor peeked in, she saw only a single figure propped on to the bed, a few fading candles, and an empty room.
This was a bad idea. She couldn’t think of anything more likely to land her in trouble than sneaking into the King’s bedchamber in the middle of the night, and yet she couldn’t help herself. Squeezing through the narrow opening in the door, she crept inside.
The air was thick with the smell of herbs and incense, a heavy black cloth draped over the window to keep out the moonlight. Moving through the dark space, her hip bumped into a table. When she reached out, she felt the familiar shape of her grandfather’s model of Old Valyria. Mouth falling open, she let her fingers drift over the figures until she landed on a particularly knobbly looking dragon model. She had made that. It had been one of her first projects when she was permitted to try using her hand again after the accident, and her grandfather had sat next to her for hours as she tried to carve a small replica of Dreamfyre. It had come out so horrible, and she had nearly cut herself so many times, that her grandfather had suggested that she try painting the figures instead. And she had. Even now, under layers of dust and cobwebs, she could see splashes of bright paint from where she had made her mark. 
A moan came from the bed, and Aelinor turned quickly toward it. The King was moving, his head shaking from side to side as he groaned.
She crept forward, coming to stand directly by his bedside. “Grandfather?”
His eyes didn’t open, but he turned his face toward her.
Aelinor tried not to gasp. Her mother had spoken of Viserys’ deteriorating condition, but she could not have prepared herself for this. Half his face was wrapped in bandages, with rotted flesh peeking out from under the crisp white linen. What skin she could see was yellowed and sallow, marked by scars and pox. Someone had tucked the blankets up to his neck, and yet his body still shivered with chill. 
A tear slid down her face as she gently leaned onto the side of the bed. “Grandfather? It’s me, Aelinor.”
He didn’t respond. She gently reached out a hand and placed it on the blanket above where she thought his hand might be. He was so fragile, so delicate. Her grandfather had always been so full of life, always quick to give her a smile or offer her a sweet if she were sad. How could such a man have been reduced to this?
“I’m sure my mother has already told you why we’ve returned.” She started speaking, not sure what she was trying to accomplish. She doubted he could hear her at all, let alone understand what she was saying. “But this place…it used to be my home, Grandfather. And now it’s nothing like I remembered.”
Viserys’ lips parted slightly, and she lifted a cloth from the bowl of water on the nightstand, gently patting a few drops of water into his mouth.
“Everyone is fighting,” she said quietly. “And I…I just wish things could be how they used to be. We must have all been friends once, right?”
Footsteps echoed from the hall, still a considerable distance away, and she sighed. “I know you do not wish to hear this. If there was something I could do to bring us all back together, I would.” She wiped at her face with her sleeve, surprised to see the fabric come away wet with tears.
“I would, Grandfather,” She swore. “I would do anything. Anything . Just so that we could all be happy again. So we could all be together again.”
There were voices in the hallway now, so she set the cloth back onto the table. “But I don’t think there’s anything I can do, Grandfather. Tomorrow is Ser Vaemond’s petition, and I just know it will make everything worse. No matter which way it goes.”
She stood, brushing out her dressing gown and turning to leave. The day to come would be a trying one, and she would need to get her rest. Not to mention, she needed to be gone before the maesters realized she had visited.
Propping one knee on the bed, Aelinor quickly leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to her grandfather’s cheek. Pulling away, she gave him one last longing look. “I so wish I could ask your advice, Grandfather. You would know what to do.”
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mattsobvimyfav · 3 days
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For Sport (Matthew Sturniolo & Chris Sturniolo)
Pt 5
A.n - hey yall so this is gonna be a very very very slow burn I already have some chapters written so I will probs rapid fire. It will be toxic, there will be angst , smut , everything you can possibly think of. It happens.
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Its finally the end of the week and I’m packing my bag to leave early from school not wanting to finish the day. I spent the rest of the week hanging out with the triplets because Haylee has been giving me the silent treatment, which wont last longer seeing as she has nothing to do all weekend.
I sent a quick text to the group chat Nick created for us.
Pickle-
Hey babes, I'm leaving school. Not a single part of me wants to stay here so I will see you tonight.
I throw my phone into the waistband of my leggings grabbing my keys and heading out the side door. During my drive to my dads house I thought about the words Lindsey spewed at me the other morning. ‘Be a whore as much as you want. Matt will never forget me’ It wasnt that I even liked Matt, it was that 1. I was NOT a whore and 2. Why can't I just spend time with friends without it being labeled? The way she looked at me with disgust really irked me too. I literally didn't bother anyone. I kept to myself as much as possible.
Machue-
Okay us too, see you at our house.
Nicky-
10 mins out
I rolled my eyes, somehow in two days of coming over these boys have managed to woo my dad and basically raid my entire kitchen. I ran upstairs and decided I would use these ten minutes to actually relax. Before I knew it my door was being pounded on. I sent them a quick text that I was just in my room and to come up.
“I've decided to grace you guys with my presence at this football game” Nick said entering my room and laying next to me. “Grace is a STRONG word” Matt took the next spot next to me on my bed. “I personally love some Nicky time” I said sitting up looking at Matt with a dirty look. Chris laid at the end of my bed opening his phone. Matt started getting a call as he laid his head on my lap answering it, I looked at the contact name. It was Maddy with a purple heart, a pange of annoyance ran through my chest as he started speaking.
“Helloo” he answered dragging his voice out. “Hi Matty! Are you driving us to the game!” This girl's voice already annoyed me. “No sorry I'm going with Y/N, see ya there” he quickly hung up before the girl could reject and looked up at me smiling. I rolled my eyes at him, I shouldn't be jealous, I don't even like him.
“What time do we have to leave?” I asked looking up from my phone. “In like three hours” I laid down making Matt have to rest his head on the middle of my back “Wake me up in two please” Chris patted my leg getting up “I'm going to make food” Nick stood up following him leaving me and Matt alone. “C’mon move over a little” Matt said while I moved over a little laying on my side while he snuck his arm around my waist. I felt my cheeks heat up and I closed my eyes feeling his warm body behind me.
“Come on guys, we got an hour till we got to go” Chris said, shaking me. I got up finding something to wear. I decided on legging with a cropped hoodie and a larger flannel over it seeing as it would be a little colder. Mass weather at night was no joke. I go into the bathroom to change and brush my teeth quick. I walked out to all the boys sitting on my bed waiting for me.
“Lets go downstairs and get food before” I said, grabbing my phone and making my way down the stairs before the boys came booking it past me down the stairs. We all ate for a little before walking out of the kitchen towards my car. I quickly lock the doors, handing the keys to Matt.
I sat in the front, Matt driving with Chris and Nick in the back. I put on Ivy by frank ocean and Matt smiled at me putting a hand on my thigh. I felt my cheeks heat up as I looked down not wanting him to see. He left his hand there the rest of the ride. Once we get to the game we made our way into the bleachers. I took a seat next to Olivia for a minute to talk to her, the boys sat up top while some girls ran over. I finished my conversation with Olivia before walking up the bleachers to see some girl sitting in between Matt’s legs. I stop dead in my tracks, you have to be kidding me.
I rolled my eyes at Matt as I took a seat in between Chris’ legs. “Who the fuck is that.” I ask Chris angirly “Maddy, don't worry I got this.” He says before sitting up “Hey Maddy, ever think about NOT being a whore” I choked on my laugh, it was rude I didn't even know this girl.
“Chris chill” Matt said, pushing the girl out between his lap while I gave him a nasty look. “Chris can we go sit in the car” Half time had already hit, I hadn't realized how long I was with Olivia. “I'm coming” Matt said following a step behind us. I decided to just ignore his presence, he couldn't just act the way he had been and then flirt with other girls expecting me to be okay with it.
“Can we sleepover? We won't be back to your house till like ten and that's not including stopping to get food” Matt asked I shrugged agreeing still annoyed with him. We all sat in my warm car until half time was over. Chris and Nick walked together as Matt held me behind.
“Come on, what's up?” Matt asked “Oh nothing you just cuddle me to sleep, hold my leg in the car and once we are here you have some other bitch sit between your legs” I say finally taking a breath. “Are you jealous?” He steps closer looking down at me with a smirk, I shake my head going to walk away as he grabs my wrist pulling me back “If you want me for yourself just say that.” We were chest to chest and honestly he had me speechless. I sighed turning my back to him “Lets go Matthew” He ran up behind me as we walked back into the game together.
The Maddy girl would’nt leave Matt the fuck alone. I was getting pissed and it was obvious. I got up halfway through the last quarter. “Nick wanna go wait in the car?” He nodded, standing up “Lets just go” Matt said, grabbing my forearm leading me down the bleachers. Chris and Nick followed behind as Matt and I walked ahead. “Lets go out to eat and than back to yours” Nick offered and I nodded agreeing before leaning back in my seat thinking about this Maddy girl. I have never felt the weird feeling I have right now. Almost as soon as the thought was going through my head, Matt's phone lit up with a text from her. I scoffed, shaking my head and looking out the window. I had a horrible feeling about her.
Tag -
@worldlxvlys
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mariamlovesyou · 4 months
Text
tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:
plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."
contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."
on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."
rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."
"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."
"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."
rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."
"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."
"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."
plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."
before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.
on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."
"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."
a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.
she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.
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that-fic-girl · 2 months
Text
HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1
Head canon: what it would be like to date them.
characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox
disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!
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Alastor
he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.
First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.
If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.
PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.
everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.
his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings
"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"
"you looked ravishing today my dear.."
"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"
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Angel Dust
Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.
you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.
his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;
"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"
"but sweets..you're soooo warm"
"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"
yeah good luck with that.
nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.
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Husk
Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality
You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.
Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.
Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.
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vox
You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.
He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.
You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.
Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.
"i've missed you today babe.."
"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"
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starkidmunson · 2 months
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glitter & crimson
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
“Marry.”
“What?”
“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”
“Eddie, we’re not playing FMK; you’re supposed to be telling me his name.”
“Oh. That’s…. Joe Jonas.”
“…he’s literally from Hawkins. And he’s holding a hockey stick.”
“Nobody from Hawkins is that hot, man, no way.”
~~~
Gareth posts the clip to his personal TikTok. Before he can get around to reposting it on Corroded Coffin’s band account, it has more than 100k views. Things only spiral from there, because once the band shares it, the video goes more viral and ends up on the screens of the right people.
chiblkhwks: harrington94 is social media challenged, but we’re going to make sure he sees this. Will keep you posted.
The comment is immediately overshadowed by a busy day of PR. A photoshoot to an interview to a radio show to the green room at the Fillmore in Boston, before an intimate pre-album release show for members of their fan club. Eddie has completely forgotten about the video entirely, but Gareth’s phone pings with a text notification.
“A response has been issued!” He declares to the room, still grinning down at the screen of his phone.
The rest of the band shares a collectively confused look, all seeming pleased to find they’re not alone in whatever they’ve missed.
“What?” Jeff asks for the group.
In lieu of an explanation, Gareth just flips the phone in his hand around to show a TikTok, stitched with the clip they’d made earlier that morning.
~~~
“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”
#Stitch
“Is… is that supposed to be a compliment?” Steve asks, making a pinched face as he laces up his skates.
“You watched the whole video. He compared you to Joe Jonas.” The girl behind the camera responds, but he levels her with an unimpressed look. She doesn’t respond, and after a beat, he sighs.
“Yeah, alright, I guess Joe Jonas is hot. I’ll take the compliment.” He huffs, standing to his feet and moving from the bench he’d been suiting up on toward the ice. The girl follows him, gliding toward the net once they're in the rink, never falling out of pace with him.
“Do you know who it is talking in the video?” She presses, and Steve looks unimpressed again.
“You mean the other hot guy?” He asks with a grin, then nods. “That was Eddie. I’m surprised you don’t know him, the Party listens to Corroded Coffin all the time.”
The video loops back to the stitched clip from Gareth’s initial TikTok then. Everyone in the room processes what just unfolded.
“The Party? Did… did Steve Harrington just make a reference to DnD? Or is that some sports thing I dont understand?” Jeff asks.
Freak raises his hand, indicating he’s next to speak. “Not only that, but his nerdy DnD friends listen to us all the time?”
“Did King Steve call Joe Jonas hot?” Eddie asks, visibly still trying to connect the wires in his brain that fried at Steve’s agreement. “Did he call me hot?”
All three turn toward Eddie, whose face is still reflecting the long form math equation his brain is trying to work out, and Jeff sighs.
“Well, boys. I think we’ve officially lost him.” He says, bowing his head. Freak and Gareth join him solemnly, making Eddie huff and cross his arms over his chest.
“You’re all so dramatic.”
“Gee, I wonder who encouraged us to be this way,” Freak exaggerates through a grin, before shoving a guitar into Eddie’s chest, just in time for Paige to open the door and summon them.
“We can have a meltdown over Harrington after the gig,” Gareth promises with a pat to Eddie’s back as everyone moves around him, exiting the green room and heading for the stage.
~~~
Riding his post-show high, Eddie makes a bold move in the CC band TikTok, commenting under the video Steve had stitched.
corrodedcoff!n: we’ll be in chicago 1/26 if harrington94 and ‘the party’ are free 🎫
He only gets about 20 minutes of peace before Gareth is jumping around, proclaiming himself the greatest wingman in history.
“It’s an offer for free concert tickets made over social media, and he hasn’t even answered, Gare Bear.” Eddie tries to get him to relax, but he, too, is eager to see how the other reacts to the offer.
He wakes up the next morning to the answer he’d been waiting on, and his stomach flips as he reads it over.
harrington94: only if you guys come to the home game 1/27 🏒
__________
Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when Max shoves her way into the locker room, b-lining straight for him.
“Can I help you?” He asks without looking up, unhooking the padding from his calf and letting it drop to the ground in front of his locker.
“Are you using TikTok to publicly flirt with Eddie Munson?” She asks, voice quieter than he’d typically expect from her, but he just scoffs.
“I’m just being friendly! You’re the one who started this in the first place! What, you didn’t expect me to log on and check if they’d responded?” He asks in response, freeing his foot from the skate, before placing a cover over the blade and letting the boot drop into the lower shelf beside his locker.
“I’m just confused because you’ve been super weird about coming out, and now you’re out here hitting on a rockstar all over social media, that’s all.” Max says, and Steve freezes for a moment.
“Do you…” he trails off, before closing his eyes and rubbing a thumb into his temple. “You really think I just accidentally came out?”
“You called Joe Jonas and Eddie Munson hot, encouraged this rockstar to come to your game when he’s in town and also accepted tickets to see him perform, Steve.” Max was monotone, and held her hands up defensively when he groaned. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying that this could get blown out of proportion now.”
They discuss a little further, deciding neither of them will publicly acknowledge anything that’s been posted to the account for now, until they actually come up with a plan.
Once he’s in his car heading home, Steve calls Robin.
“Dingus,” she greets, as always, and he lets out a grumble. “Uh oh. What happened?”
“I think I accidentally came out on the internet, and it’s Eddie Munson’s fault.” He’s met with several seconds of silence as he starts his car on the path to him and Robin’s shared apartment.
“Eddie, the drug dealer from high school?” Robin eventually asks, confused, and Steve groans again.
“Yeah. He uh, also is in a band?” He supplies, and Robin’s quiet for a moment as she processes. Then, he hears the tapping of a keyboard. “What are you doing?”
“Looking Eddie up, obviously.” Steve can practically see her eye roll, even though they’re not FaceTiming. “You’re nothing if not consistent, I guess. Doe-eyed curly brunet.”
Steve scoffs. “You say as though you’re not the one currently waking up beside Nance every morning.”
He’s met again by a short silence, before Robin lets out a little puff of air, in a small laugh. “Thank you again for being so cool about that, by the way.” She says, before he hears clicking on her end. “Apparently, Eddie is out as bi. Corroded Coffin does a charity show for the Trevor Project every year, and he’s been to a lot of Pride events.”
Steve’s stomach twists with each new bit of information she provides, because a part of him wants to be that out, wants to be like Robin or apparently Eddie, freely sharing that part of themselves with the world and having no one give a shit. But that’s not how it works on so many levels for Steve. Beside the shit he’d have to deal with on the ice from certain other players, he had no idea how it would impact the team overall. There’s no way to gauge how fans would react, when there’s never been an openly gay player in the NHL. And that didn't even begin to touch on how his parents would react.
“Hey,” Robin breaks him out of his spiral and he realizes he’s been chewing a hole into his cheek. “I can hear how loud you’re thinking right now. Do you need me to come home?” She asks, gently, and he sighs.
“Please.” He mumbles after a long pause, and is grateful when he hears the jingle of car keys from the other end of the phone.
~~~
Robin scrolls through article after article once she gets to their place, pulling Steve onto the sofa with her and laying his head in her lap. Her fingers twist through his hair, doing her best to keep him calm as she reads up on the situation playing out to try and help gauge how big of a hole he’s dug himself this time.
“I don’t think there’s really anyone who thinks you were flirting with him. Not seriously, at least.” She tries to assure him, but he’d already seen the twitter posts to contradict that before she came over. He sighs and rolls onto his back, so he’s looking up at her, and shrugs.
“I kind of don’t think there’s any avoiding it, at this point.” He mumbles. “I’m not… I’m not ready to come out, not like this. Not on this scale. I think the only thing I can do is carry on and hope it doesn’t get turned into any bigger of a deal.”
Robin hums down at him, and continues to brush his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. So you don’t come out yet. But don’t overcompensate for it, okay?” He scrunches his face up at her, and she types something into her phone before turning it back into his face. He immediately pales, met with a photo of him out with Heidi last year. With a black eye on full display, he looks miserable behind a fake smile.
“Low blow,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from Robin to sit up beside her, and she raises her eyebrow at him, still holding the photo pointed in his direction.
“‘Maybe they won’t notice or ask why my literal teammate punched me in the face at practice if I take a fucking supermodel out to dinner.’” Robin’s imitation is a little too good, a sure sign of too much time spent together.
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it!” He asks, taking the phone off of her and closing out of the image before locking it. He drops it back into her lap with a sigh. “I just don’t know how many times I can keep getting away with hiding it.”
“Well, it helps that Billy got traded out to LA. He would be insufferable about this, and would absolutely make everything 10 times worse.” Robin muses.
Steve sighs and hesitates for a moment before dropping his head back into her lap, curling into her. “I just want it to be on my terms, when I’m ready.”
“We’ll figure it out, and it’ll all be okay, no matter what. Okay?” She assures quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.
His phone dings with a new notification; Max texted him a screenshot from TikTok.
corrodedcoff!n: you’ve got yourself a deal 🤝🏻
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yawnderu · 5 months
Text
K-9 — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Chapter I
Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.
1 2 3 4 5
Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two
or
Simon Riley is crushing on an uninterested, tired medic.
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''I don't mean to be rude, but I'm getting tired of seeing you here.'' Your blunt words are met with a quiet chuckle, the masked man looking up at you with pure amusement in his eyes.
'' 'M trying not to get injured, bird.'' Oh, but he isn't. He's actively getting injured just so he can drop by and get your help. It's stupid, really, how his obsession with you began. He thinks about the first time he saw you, standing right next to Price, an unamused expression as he went on and on about his team, telling you stories of their missions and time together and despite how bored you looked, your attention was solely on him.
He took that chance to look at you, to truly admire you, noticing the way you pull up your glasses every few minutes even when they're not sliding down your nose, the way your eyes were focused only on Price, paying attention to no one but him, legs crossed while sitting next to Price, your face resting on your hand.
''Clearly not trying hard enough.'' He can't help the way his cock twitches at your bored tone, the small frown on your lips just making him think how pretty you'd look with his cum all over your face— he shakes his head softly, trying to get his mind out of the gutter, focusing on the fast and professional work you're doing on his injured arm, pulling the skin back together with a beautifully done stitchwork.
''It's hard being out there.'' He tries to make conversation and all you can do is hum in acknowledgement, gaze focused on the way the needle digs into his skin, coming out of the other side just to be pulled back together with the thin, transparent thread.
''Y'know Gaz was hanging from a chopper by a bloody rope?'' He knows you're close to Gaz, he has seen you talk to him often, and so he tries to desperately make conversation again.
''Scared the shit out o' the old man.'' His efforts work as a small snicker escapes your lips, stopping working on his stitches as you collected yourself. You look up at him with an amused glint in your eyes, nodding your head. God, he has never seen something quite as beautiful.
''Cap told me about it. Poor guy had his whole waist bruised.'' You let out another small laugh before turning your attention back to the deep cut in his arm.
''If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're getting injured on purpose.'' His heart almost stops as your cold eyes look back up at his, an eyebrow raised, yet there's a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you notice his lack of response.
'' 'M not.'' Is all he can say, the knowing look you give him enough to make his blood boil, traveling all the way down to his throbbing cock, thankful for the black hoodie sprawled across his lap to prevent the blood from leaking into his jeans. You ignore all the... beige flags, knowing he's not stupid enough to actually get injured on purpose. You finish stitching him up, throwing away the tools used and the bloodied gloves.
''Keep the wound dry for 24 hours, if any of the stitches come off or the wound opens, come to me.'' You softly pat his shoulders, a small yawn escaping your lips as you look up at the clock on the wall; 0200.
''Tired?'' He asks sarcastically, earning him a way-too-hard pat on the shoulder. Simon woke you up at 2 in the morning, claiming his wound couldn't wait. It wasn't even as bad as he made it seem, though you appreciate your work with the TF141 more than you let on, so you decided to help him. It isn't the first time he wakes you up at outrageous hours, claiming to need help for things ranging from a pathetic paper cut to a gunshot wound. This time, his arm was the only thing affected, a cut big enough to need stitches.
''Very. Now get out.'' Your hand sneaks into the back of his uniform, tugging softly and he gets the message, standing up and allowing you to guide him out of your office like he's a child. He doesn't care if it's you.
''Goodnight, Simon.'' You can barely keep your eyes open and he feels a slight sense of guilt at keeping you up, knowing you'll have to be awake again in less than 3 hours.
''Night, Doc.''
[NEXT]
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f1version · 5 months
Text
26 BIRTHDAY KISSES ★ CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x gf!reader ( she/her )
summary: 26th birthday, 26 pictures of you and Charles kissing. A kiss for each year.
notes: i’m back from my birthday trip!! i wrote this birthday special in like 30 minutes and it’s still charles’ birthday in a couple of places so… i’m not exactly late! enjoy <3
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26 KISSES: A GALLERY
By your beautiful girlfriend, in collaboration with a lot of people but mainly Joris and ourselves.
1. DRUNK DANCING: A month after we got together, we were at Arthur’s 18th birthday. We got drunk, singing and dancing to the worst playlist in existence (Lorenzo’s) and, somehow, Arthur got to capture this moment I barely even remember.
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Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2018
2. AUGUST 2019: Summer break, so sweet so loving. You made me promise that if you jumped off first, I would jump too. It took me fifteen minutes to follow after you. Also your kisses were incredibly salty.
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Taken by Joris Trouche, 2019
3. THE MONZA INCIDENT: I had red lipstick the night you won in Monza, you told me it looked pretty, I asked you to kiss me, you did. Fast forward 8 minutes it was all smudged over your lips, you were 10 minutes late to the post-race conference, and Sylvia almost banned me that night. (I’m still kind of banned from your driver’s room)
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Taken by Charles Leclerc, 2019
4. UNDER THE COVERS: 2020, what a crazy year. This one was taken the day we decided to finish moving in together. You were so excited, wanted everything to be perfect. Today I can say it is.
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Taken by Me, 2020
5. WORDS: We were spending Christmas by ourselves, we face-timed our families, had dinner and watched movies. You gifted me three beautiful words I, of course, said back… and we also got a puppy!
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Taken by Charles’ phone timer, 2020
6. OCEAN BREZEE: Just a small escapade to take a breath. You were so cuddly that day, Joris was so done with you (he still took the pic though)
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Taken by Joris Trouche, 2021
7. CUTE OR HOT: I just wanted a cute morning selfie but, because of you, we ended up in a…promising mood. It was intense that’s all I have to say!
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Taken by Me, 2021
8. KISS KISS KISS: 24th birthday, 24 kisses. This kind of became a tradition, let me know if you still want them this year!
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Taken by Me, 2021
9. DRUNK AF: How did we got so drunk? Ask Pierre, he was the one hosting. Either way we got another amazing photo of us drunk-kissing!!!
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Taken by Pierre Gasly, 2021
10. UNDER THE SEA: I’m just going to say that you and your ‘photo ideas 📸’ folder are attached by the hip. I personally love this one (even if it took half an hour to take)
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Taken by Joris Trouche, 2021
11. NEW YORK: Thought you could scape this one? Never! Arthur and I didn’t spend a week listening to your complaining for nothing, babe. You must admit that this kiss was magical, everything was so pretty that day. And then it started snowing!
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Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2021
12. EXPOSED: Remember how our amazing soft launch got ruined by our trip to Ibiza? Well, here it is, the image we couldn’t stop laughing at when it came out, we really thought we were sneaky.
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Taken by unknown, 2022
13. HARD LAUNCH: A week later we were kissing on live TV. It’s one of my favorite memories, I couldn’t stop smiling.
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Taken by F1 TV, 2022
14. BACK KISSES: Just a picture of the morning after I learned that you can convince anyone, even the CEO of Ferrari, to allow you to leave sponsor events early. I really don’t know if you knew those kisses were there, but I woke up to this, took a picture and then left you with them until we took a shower.
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Taken by Me, 2022
15. SPONSORED BY AIRMAX: That time your team forgot to book us a flight and you had to ask Lando to ask Daniel to ask Max if we could go back to Monaco with them. I’ve never seen Max talk so much, Daniel laugh so loud or Lando taking so many pictures. He even asked to take one of us, here it is:
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Taken by Lando Norris, 2022
16. SIXTEEN: I bet you thought this one would have something to do with racing. Number 16. Sorry to disappoint but it’s our beautiful puppy…Sixteen! I’m not gonna lie, I still hate you for persuading me into that name. Anyways if you kiss the dog you kiss the mom!!
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Taken by Me, 2022
17. 25 KISSES: Again, tell me if you want those 26 kisses this year. Look at us last year!
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Taken by Me, 2022
18. NEW YEAR, SAME LOVE: Sometimes the world feels unreal when I’m with you, this was one of those days. I felt in another reality, the world slowed down, it was just you and me. I remember thinking “I fell in love with the right person” and then you kissed me.
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Taken by Joris Trouche, 2022
19. BLACK SUIT: Remember when your fans thanked me for your “new” outfits? They repeated it was the girlfriend effect, you couldn’t stop talking about how stylish you are with or without me!
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Taken by Me, 2023
20. PHOTOSHOOT: You got Joris to take these shots just because you wanted a new wallpaper. I thought it was silly, until one day all of them were hanging around our home. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Charlie.
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Taken by Joris Trouche, 2023
21. FIVE STAR CHEFS: Not much to say, just sorry for being so distracting and thank you for the amazing (stolen from Ferrari) dinner babe!
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Taken by Charles’ phone timer, 2023
22. RED LIGHTS: This year’s addition to our drunk-kissing collection. I remember you drowning shots with Carlos and Pierre, asking me to dance with you, absolutely failing at that, and then kissing me. After that there’s blurry ferrari red, giggles and a hot bath.
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Taken by Andrea Ferrari, 2023
23. LAZY IN BED: Wonderful lazy days by the ocean, that’s how we spent the summer break. That morning in particular you didn’t want to get up, basically gluing me to bed. We got up at 1pm.
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Taken by Me, 2023
24. JUST ONE QUESTION: Can I drive the purosangue now? Please please please
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Taken by Me, 2023
20. LOVER: This day I woke up thinking about those dreams we talk about all the time, you even remembered me a couple of them throughout the day. Charlie, I do want to do this for the rest of our lives, never forget it <3
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Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2023
26. TWENTY-SIX: We are just 26 but I hope our story keeps on writing itself. I love you, these have been the happiest 6 years of my life. Happy birthday bébé ❤️
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Taken by Joris Trouche, 2023
2K notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 5 months
Text
Another Love | part 1
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 8,539
Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry
A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.
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You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.
You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.
You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.
That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.
"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"
Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.
Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.
So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.
You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.
When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.
"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.
"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.
"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"
He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"
You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.
"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.
"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.
"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.
He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.
Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.
Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.
"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.
You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.
"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.
"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.
"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.
The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.
"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.
"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you. 
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"
You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.
"I know you don't", you smile sadly.
He looks more confused now.
"Then, why did you tell me?"
"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.
"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.
You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.
"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"
"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?
"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"
Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.
"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"
"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"
"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.
"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"
"You don't have to pay if you're not here"
Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.
"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"
He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.
"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.
"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.
You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.
You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.
"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.
"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.
"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.
"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.
"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"
"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.
All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.
Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.
"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.
"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"
"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.
You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.
Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.
Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.
Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw
You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.
You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.
The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.
Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.
When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.
"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.
"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.
The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.
The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.
"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.
"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.
"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.
"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.
"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"
The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.
"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.
"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"
He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.
"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.
"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"
Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.
The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.
A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.
You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.
You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.
You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.
Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.
When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.
Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.
Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.
"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.
"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.
Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.
Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.
"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"
You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.
She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.
She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.
"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.
"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.
"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.
When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.
"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.
"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.
"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.
"Were we invited?"
"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"
You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.
She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.
The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.
You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.
"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"
You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.
Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.
"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.
"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.
"Why not?"
"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.
"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"
Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.
This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well  to something completely new.
You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.
You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw
You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.
Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you
Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung
You change the name in his contact before replying.
You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.
Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.
You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.
You: lol, you're really smooth.
"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.
>><<
The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.
He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.
So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.
"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.
Chan looks at Han, worried.
"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.
"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.
"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.
"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.
"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.
Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?
"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"
He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.
"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.
"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"
Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"
"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.
"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"
"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.
>><<
You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.
Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.
So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.
The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.
"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.
"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.
"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"
He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.
"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.
After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?
"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"
"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.
Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.
"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.
"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.
"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.
"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.
"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"
He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.
"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.
"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.
"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.
"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?
"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.
"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.
"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.
"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.
"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.
"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.
"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.
"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.
"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.
"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.
"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.
"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.
Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.
You're jumping and smiling until you see him.
You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.
He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.
You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.
You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.
You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.
"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.
"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.
You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.
"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.
The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.
"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.
"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.
You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.
You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.
You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.
"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"
You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.
"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.
"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"
He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.
"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"
"Absolutely, I would love that"
"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.
"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"
"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"
You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.
After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.
You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?
You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.
You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.
Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.
You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.
"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.
You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?
"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.
"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.
"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.
"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"
"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.
"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't understand how that's any of your business"
"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.
You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?
"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.
"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.
Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?
"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"
You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.
The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.
You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.
Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.
You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.
You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?
You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?
It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.
You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.
There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.
Hannah: call me when you wake up
Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.
Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?
You: I just woke up, calm down girl
You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.
Binnie: morning babes
Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole
Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me
You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.
You: I mean, you're hot too
You: I think we'd make an awesome couple
Chan: good morning, Y/N
Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.
You: good morning Channie, I know you heard
You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though
You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.
You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.
You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.
You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.
"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.
"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.
"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.
"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"
"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.
"So what time are you gonna come?"
"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.
"Okay, see you then"
You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.
Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.
You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.
He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.
Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.
And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.
You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.
The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.
You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.
You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.
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A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.
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levitiquee · 6 months
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"Hey."
A husky voice spoke right beside your ear, startling you. You felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, warmth pressing against your neck.
"Huh–" You turned your head around, caught off guard. But your shoulders relaxed the moment you realized it was him. "Oh hi, it's you."
Levi rested his head on your shoulder, spreading his legs so they went around where you were sitting, practically slumping on you
"Mhm, were you hoping it was someone else?" Levi mumbled sleepily, snuggling deeper, pressing a soft kiss into the skin before burying his face into the crook of your neck.
"Never." You smiled.
You were sitting on the bed of the spare bedroom, papers and books spread across you. You work best in bed. But Levi was so tired tonight, he had went to bed early, and you hadn't the heart to disrupt his sleep. Which is why you had to seek refuge in the guest bedroom instead.
"You made a mess." He huffed, noticing the absolute chaos of papers and books you have made in the bed.
"We don't have much guests either way. This room is practically going to waste. But fine," You reassure him. "I'll clean up later, I swear."
"You always say that. Weeks will pass, the mess will stay the same." He mutters.
"Alright, you neat-freak, did you wake up just to take a nick at how unorganized I am?" You raise a brow, shooting a glance sideways, pretending to be annoyed. You failed to bite back the smile tugging on your lips though."You should be asleep."
"Shouldn't you too?" He pouted. "I can't sleep if you're not there."
"I know," You raised your hand, ruffling his hair. It was already messy, indicating he'd been tossing and turning in the bed for a while now. "I just really need to finish this article, alright? Go to bed, I'll be there."
"Is your work more important than me?" His head turned sideways, the silver of his eyes glinting through sleep-heavy lids. He almost looked like a pouty kid, needy for attention. You turned your head to press your forehead against his, pressing against the warmth of his body. He was always so warm.
"Levi, I promise. Just 5 minutes."
"I gave you 2 hours." He frowned.
"5 more minutes. Finishing touches."
"In the morning. Come to bed."
"Just 5 minutes!" You laughed when he shook his head, his hair tingling your neck.
"5 seconds."
"Levi."
"5." He began counting.
You rolled your eyes, amused. "No way, you're doing that."
"4."
"I'm serious."
"3."
"Two minutes?"
"2."
You squirmed against his hold, struggling to loosen his grip. You tugged forward, but you couldn't even budge.
Curse Levi and his Ackerman strength.
"1."
"Okay, I'm serious, let me g–"
You didn't even get a second before you were hoisted up in the air, thrown over his shoulder. A surprised squeal escaped you but the next thing you know you were in your bedroom. He dropped you on it, bed creaking underneath the sudden weight. Then he slid in, pulling the covers and tucking the both of you under it, an arm wrapping around you so you were pressed firmly against his chest and very unable to move.
"You work too hard for your own good." He mumbled, voice already raspy from the exhaustion clouding over him.
"Says the workaholic and the insomniac." You protest.
"You talk a lot, don't you?" He sighed softly. "Go to sleep. If you don't get enough rest you get cranky in the morning."
"I suffer from cranky Levi everyday. You should get a taste." You grinned.
"I'm not cranky."
"No. You're like a moody teenager on her period."
"Shut up." He tugged your ear, a playful gesture to show that he was annoyed. But the slightest quirk of his mouth didn't escape your eyes, as small as it was. "Need my sleep, love. Can't have that if you're not here."
"Yeah?" You exhaled, sleep caressing your eyes as well. But the nickname still made you grin. Hearing words of endearment from Levi was such a rare thing, you felt giddy whenever he addressed you like that. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just he's gets too flustered and embarrassed whenever the words slip out, which just makes the moments all the more special.
Like now, how he screwed up his face the instant he realized.
"No." He said in a warning tone.
Too late. You grinned. "Call me darling."
"No."
"Sweetheart?"
"No."
"Honeypie?"
"Absolutely not."
"Sweat pea?"
"What the fuck." He groaned. "I swear you get worse every day."
"I'm serious. Why not?"
"Because they're ridiculous."
"Okay. How about Fuzzball?"
"What the hell is that even supposed to mean?"
"Pumpkin?"
"Why, just why?"
You reached up, bringing your mouth closer to his ears. "Mommy?" You whispered.
He jolted. "I will smack you with this pillow." He says flatly, keeping his face expressionless. "Go to sleep before I knock you out myself."
You nodded, pressing the back of your hand to stifle your laugher, your shoulders shaking. But you decided that was quite enough for Levi. At least for one night.
"Roger." You sighed, throwing an arm over him. "Goodnight, babe."
"Brat." He grumbled, turning his head and hiding his face in the pillow.
Not before you caught the flush on his face though.
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@sad-darksoul
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munson-blurbs · 8 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13
Summary: A disastrous PTA meeting and an unfortunate grocery store encounter have you and Eddie questioning whether or not you deserve each other.
Warnings: a bit of dirty talk (18+ just in case), feelings of unworthiness, Carol Perkins and Billy Hargrove make appearances, mentions of bullying, small allusion to drug use and poverty, arrest, tiny allusion to Eddie's breeding kink
WC: 7.1k
Chapter 13/20
Divider credit to @saradika Special thanks to @girlwiththerubyslippers & @corroded-hellfire for helping with this chapter!
Your Thursday mornings at Hawkins Preschool usually involve a light tap on the door and a blink-and-you-missed-it wave from Eddie; maybe a wink if no one’s looking. Today, he’s stopped by the classroom with a steaming styrofoam cup in hand.
“I thought you only brought me coffee on Mondays,” you laugh appreciatively. You take the still-hot beverage from him, folding back the plastic tab and blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. It’s made just as you like it and warms you from the inside out.
Eddie smiles, crossing his arms over his chest an leaning in closer so his leather-clad shoulder grazes sweater-covered one. “Ah, but the PTA meeting is after school today.” As if you could forget forty minutes of unpaid work that could be spent reading, resting, snuggling up to your thoughtful metalhead boyfriend… “Figured you could use an extra boost of caffeine to help you power through.” He lowers his voice to add, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. But Wayne’ll be there.” He squeezes your hand quickly just as Abby Carver approaches you. 
You pull away so fast that you bang your elbow against the side of the desk, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a yelp. “What can I do for ya, Abby?” you ask, smiling through the throbbing pain.
“Joshua said that he’s taller than me!” she whines, messily swiping at her ruddy tear-stained cheeks. Her dad only dropped her off five minutes ago, and she’s already conjured up a crisis. Unsurprising, but exasperating nonetheless.
You peer over at Joshua Harrington, who is currently constructing a racetrack, unbothered by Abby’s distressed state. Your gaze flits back over to the little girl in front of you. “Honey, he is taller than you,” you gently explain, watching as her bright blue eyes begin to well up again.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t havta say it!” she protests, stamping her sneaker on the speckled tile floor. It’s one that lights up, little red and blue and green twinkles dashing along the side.
You nod, sucking in your lips in a feeble attempt to keep a straight face. “Well, you can just play somewhere else. And we’re gonna get started with circle time in a few minutes.” Time to sing the Good Morning song–again. If the kids didn’t beg for it every day, you would’ve scrapped it months ago, but it keeps them entertained.
Once she scampers off, already zeroing in on a group of girls dressing up some time-battered Barbie dolls, you turn your attention back to Eddie. 
“We’re still on for Saturday?” you ask, a subtle reminder of your upcoming date at Enzo’s. It’s a fancier restaurant than either of you are used to, but Eddie had insisted on it.
He nods quickly, scratching at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous, though you’re not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Y-Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?”
“I can’t wait.”
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At 3:15, you and Will trudge into the classroom that’s serving as the meeting venue. It only takes a moment for you to remember that it’s Ms. Marion’s room, and your eyes scan the walls for Harris’s artwork. You find it easily; it’s the best in the class. It’s a drawing based on the saying, ‘March is in like a lion and out like a lamb,’ and each kid drew a picture of the two animals. Harris has meticulously added details to his. He’s drawn a zig-zag line under the lion’s pink nose to represent his aggression and given the lamb a puffy coat of wool, while the other kids just drew smiling lions and a circle to represent their lambs’ bodies. He’s also included a speech bubble hovering above each of their heads; the lion’s says “ROR!!!” and the lamb bleats “BAAA.” 
Will’s gaze follows yours, and his lips turn up into a smile when he sees what you’re staring at. “He’s a talented kid,” he remarks. “We gotta have him sign something now so we can say ‘we knew him when.’” 
You nod your head in agreement and return his grin. You’ll have to tell Eddie to have Harris swing by your classroom after school tomorrow so Harris can autograph some drawings.
Wayne comes in a few minutes later, taking a seat behind you and Will.
“How’s your day going, Wayne?” You turn around in your chair and greet him. Seeing the older Munson always lifts your spirits. He’s wearing a flannel, checks of olive green and white, over a white t-shirt that proudly proclaims: My Favorite Person Calls Me Grampa.
Wayne gives a little shrug; for him, it’s the equivalent of a beaming smile. “Can’t complain. Didn’t get too much pushback from Harris when I dropped him at the baby-sitter’s.” He explains that Claudia Henderson still has a bunch of the games her son had played with, and Harris loves going through the toy bin and finding something new. “Well, new to him. That stuff’s gotta be nearly twenty years old by now.” He scratches the white-gray whiskers on his cheek and chuckles. “Jeez, ‘m old. I remember buyin’ those kinda games for Eddie when he was a kid.”
More parents and teachers file in and, eventually, the PTA president stands at the front of the classroom and calls the meeting to order. The idle conversation gradually ceases, and Linda Wright presses her lips into a thin smile and smooths nonexistent creases in her khaki slacks.
“Welcome, everyone,” she begins, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you all for being here. We have quite a few items to cover today, so let’s get to it!” She’s far too chipper for your liking, and you wince involuntarily as she excitedly announces the upcoming parent-child talent show. It’s an annual school-hosted fundraiser, and apparently a popular one; there’s a soft roar of discussion before Linda wrinkles her nose in irritation and shushes the group.
“Oh, Ed’s gonna love that,” Wayne leans in and whispers to you. “He’ll probably be more excited than Harris.” He sits up straight when Linda clears her throat and glares in his direction.
The president launches into a tirade about kindergarten readiness strategies, handing out little pamphlets to the parents and guardians. The cover displays an overly-enthusiastic teacher surrounded by a small group of students who are closely attending to a fake lesson.
You hear Wayne grumble under his breath: “What is there to be ready for? It’s kindergarten, Jesus Christ.” and you have to stifle a laugh.
Linda luckily doesn’t hear his lament. “I’m opening up the floor to any questions or concerns.” Now is the time that people typically start gathering their belongings and resume unfinished conversations. It’s precisely what you plan to do until you hear an all-too familiar snide voice from across the room. 
“Yes, I have a question.” Carol Perkins stands up. She places her hands on her hips and pulls her lips into a smirk. “What is the school’s policy on parent-teacher relationships? Romantic and…otherwise?” Her gaze sweeps over to you, hovering there for a bit, and you realize with a sense of dread that she’s enjoying this. “Because, to me,” she splays her manicured fingers over the center of her chest, “it just seems completely unprofessional.”
The PTA members start whispering amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in excitement as they try to determine the culprit amongst themselves.
You want to crawl into a hole and die. You can feel Wayne’s eyes on the back of your head, as though he’s silently willing you to remain composed. The only other person who knows of your relationship with Eddie is Will, and you can tell that he’s doing everything in his power not to wrap his arms around you in a hug.
At the very least, the principal is not tolerating the dissolution of the meeting into a gossip session. “Ms. Perkins, we can discuss this at a later time. Privately.” Sue Sinclair’s expression is stoic, unreadable, and you’re not sure whether she’s angry at you or Carol. How would she know it’s me? But logic has no reason with emotion taking center stage, and you’re all too grateful when Chrissy Carver shifts the conversation to organize a ticket sale committee. For the most part, it seems like Carol’s little outburst has been swept under the rug. The meeting concludes as some parents leave while others stick around to schedule playdates, but you remain seated.
A hand on your shoulder startles you from your humiliated stupor, and you look up to see Will looking at you. Sympathy radiates from his eyes.
“It’s okay,” he softly reassures you. “I don’t think anyone knows, and even if they do, who cares? Harris isn’t in your class anymore.”
“I-I know.” But Frankie is, which means I’ll have to face Carol every day, I’ll have to deal with her smarmy expressions and backhanded comments. The blood drains in your face when you think about her spreading rumors to the other parents, their amused stares as they drop their children off to be in your care.
Wayne speaks up as he stands, leaning his gnarled knuckles on the seat of the folding chair for support. “Darlin’, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. It’s no one’s business who you’re with.” He brushes some dust off of his dungarees and walks with a slight limp towards the door, the remnants of an old injury that flares up in the colder weather. “I gotta go get Harris, but you keep your chin up.” He gives Will a quick head bob that the younger man returns, having developed somewhat of a camaraderie with the elder Munson during the various post-graduation Hellfire sessions held at the trailer.
Carol says nothing as she leaves the room, deep in conversation with Steve Harrington and his wife. If they don’t know about you and Eddie yet, you’re confident that Carol will ensure they do soon. Dread pools in your stomach at the thought of small-town gossip flying, your professionalism being called into question, the possibility of you losing your job. And everyone will know why. 
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Eddie’s hands tremor with excitement; his whole body buzzes with energy as he grabs the receiver off of the glass countertop. He dials your number–his favorite seven digit combination in the world–and beams the entire time. As soon as he hears your, “hello?”, he’s practically shouting into the phone. Volume control has never been his forte, especially after years of blowing out his eardrums with loud music.
“Babe, guess what?” He drums his left hand fingertips on the counter, a rhythmic pum-pum-pum to keep his breath steady.
“What’s up?” 
He notes hesitance in your tone, but chalks it up to exhaustion from your extended workday. “I applied for that manager position? The one I told you about on our first date?” He hears your soft “mhm,” before proceeding. “And I got it! Ash just told me now!” He smiles, pressing the receiver to his ear with his shoulder as he organizes paperwork into a pile. “Eddie Munson, getting the girl and the job? Never in Hawkins’ wildest dreams!”
There’s a pause on your end of the line before you reply. “I’m so proud of you, Eds. No one deserves this more than you do.” 
Though there’s still an air of something Eddie can’t quite identify, it’s woven with genuine pride for his accomplishment. His fingertips keep busy as they graze up and down the phone cord. “Now we, uh, really have something to celebrate at Enzo’s.”
Another pause; this one is so long that he wonders if the line disconnected. “Um, about that…” you finally speak up, and Eddie hopes you don’t hear the gigantic sigh of relief that escapes his lips, “maybe we could just do something at my place? Grab takeout, watch a movie or something?”
His relief evaporates almost as quickly as it came, and he puts his weight on his forearms and lowers his voice. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just been a long week.”
It sounds too automatic, too rehearsed to be true. Eddie doesn’t believe you, but he needs to get to Wayne’s and pick up Harris before his uncle leaves for work. “I really wanted to take you out, show you off, y’know?” He clears his throat, scrambling for words. “We can talk more about it later. Try to get some rest, Sweetheart.”
“Mmkay,” you mumble, and Eddie hopes he’s not just imagining the smile in your voice. “I’ll try. Say hi to Harris and Wayne for me.”
He ends the phone call promising that he will, hanging up hesitantly. What happened between this morning and this evening that had you backing out of the date and retreating into your home? 
I shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, he grimaces, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards Forest Hills. That was so stupid; she was at work, and the kids were right there. Way to go, Munson. 
Eddie continues to brood about his faux pas all the way until he gets to Wayne’s, slapping a smile on his face as he relays the news about his promotion. The smile becomes less forced the more he talks. He’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of buying a house with a yard, a pool–well, maybe not a pool; he’s not making that much money–but definitely space for Harris to run around and play.
And in this fantasy world he’s created, you’re standing on the front porch, sipping coffee out of a World’s Best Mom mug–possibly the only mug Wayne doesn’t already have nailed to the trailer wall–made just the way you like it. You’re laughing as you watch Harris sprint back and forth across the grass. Eddie imagines it neatly cut, but the reality is that it would probably be more than a bit overgrown.
He’d sneak up behind you, snaking arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto the back of your neck–
“That’s amazing, Ed!” Wayne claps a hand on his nephew’s back, drawing him out of his daydream and thrusting him back into reality. He pulls him into a quick hug, not overabundant in affection, but his delight seeps through. “You talk to your girl yet?” 
“First person I called.” My girl. The first person I called was my girl. She’s my girl and I’m her man–
“Good.” Wayne responds pensively, smoothing down his unruly mustache whiskers and reaching for his pack of Camels. He shoves them into his side pocket, right on top of the lighter. “She could use some good news after that shitshow of a PTA meeting.”
Eddie’s brows crinkle, pinched together in non-understanding. “What are you talking about?” he asks before calling out his son’s name to bring him from the bedroom. He can hear the bed springs creaking, which can only mean that Harris is jumping on the old mattress. Apparently, breaking his wrist didn’t result in a lesson learned.
“She didn’t tell you?” 
“Tell me what?” He slams his palm onto the countertop as confusion melts into frustration. Weren’t you past this? Past keeping secrets and masking emotions?
Wayne sighs, weighing his options. Ultimately, his allegiance is to his nephew, so he divulges what happened that afternoon, heart sinking as Eddie’s face falls with each word. “She seemed real shook up,” he concludes the story, digging out the pack of cigarettes. Delivering news that devastates his nephew has him urgently craving a smoke. “I wanted to stay and talk to her, but Claudia had somewhere to be at five.”
Eddie chews on his lower lip, pulling off a bit of dry skin with his front teeth. “Yeah, no, ‘s fine.” He calls Harris out of the bedroom again, patience sufficiently thinned. Of course Carol Perkins would shoot off her big mouth about your personal life. It’s not like she had anything better to do. None of that is surprising. 
What worries Eddie is why you didn’t tell him about it. Were you embarrassed that people knew you were together? Is that why you didn’t want to be seen at Enzo’s with him? Would you agree to a restaurant far outside the bounds of Hawkins, or was this shame rooted deeper than small-town gossip?
Wayne can sense his anxiety, and he scrambles to dam up Eddie’s flooding thoughts as he fumbles to put the cigarette between his lips. “It’s pretty damn obvious that you two care for each other. Dare I say, you lo—”
“Wayne!”
“Fine, fine,” Wayne chuckles and grabs his lunch pack. The ceasing of the bed springs indicates that Harris has stopped jumping, and Eddie can hear toy cars clattering into a bag. “But you should just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.” He lowers his voice as Harris finally emerges. “I know it ain’t been easy to hear rumors your whole life, but this is new to her. Cut her a little slack.”
Eddie looks around the trailer at what was his first real home. He’d bounced from place to place with his parents, dodging angry landlords and their threats of eviction. From a young age, he’d learned to dread the end of the month, knowing that conflict was inevitable. Screaming voices, accusations of hiding money, when anyone with working eyes could see that they’d all but stuffed it in a pipe and smoked it. There was no love; only survival. Wayne was never the cookies and milk, family dinner, Leave it to Beaver type, but he offered Eddie something he’d never had before: safety.
Now, Eddie scoops Harris into his arms and follows Wayne out of the trailer as he locks up. There’s not too much of great value; possibly just the TV, but even that’s on the fritz. And unless a thief had a hankering for hokey mugs and baseball caps, they’d probably leave without taking a thing. “Thanks, Old Man.”
“‘S what I’m here for,” Wayne says, pressing a kiss to Harris’s mop of curls. He pauses, and then does something he hasn’t done in years: he kisses the top of Eddie’s head, too. “Not just a pretty face, y’know.”
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On Saturday evening, Eddie finds himself at Bradley’s Big Buy, scouring the aisles until he locates the small refrigerator holding various flower bouquets. The chill hits him in the chest as he opens the door, crouching down to get a better look at the offerings through their tissue-paper wraps. He’s determined to take you to Enzo’s, and he’d hoping this small gesture will show you that he can be the man you deserve.
He finds a bouquet of pink peonies and grabs them from the display case, clutching them proudly. They’re delicate and beautiful, just like you. He raises them up, the petals tickling his nose when he inhales the fresh scent, when he overhears Billy Hargrove speaking in a hushed tone:
“Thought you were stopping by after that parent meeting thing.”
“My idiot husband came home early,” a woman–Carol Perkins, Eddie realizes–punctuates her lament with an irritated sigh. “But speaking of that meeting–I’ve been meaning to tell you: guess who’s also hooking up?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer before divulging the gossip, “Frankie’s teacher and Eddie Munson.”
“The teacher and the Freak? No way.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and chuckles maliciously. “Didn’t know she was down for that kind of stuff.”
“Keep it in your pants,” Carol huffs, as though she’s not stepping out on her own husband. “But I’m serious! He brings her coffee and leaves her stupid love notes.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes together as he cringes. Billy’s second round of mean laughter transports him back to the time the jock grabbed his brand-new D20 off of the lunch table and used his basketball skills to chuck it into a far-off trash can. The ruby red die sunk into the mountain of discarded lumps resembling mashed potatoes and half-eaten meatloaf, forcing Eddie to trek across the cafeteria and fish it out of the pile of old food. “Love notes? What, is he in high school or something?”
Carol snickers. “Guess he’s making up for all the times he didn’t bother, since he knew no girl in this town would go for him.”
“Looks like he had to go for an import,” Billy jokes, drawing a hideous cackle from his friend. Eddie can practically hear the man’s ego inflating at the way Carol fawns over him.
“And a desperate one at that,” she snorts. “I mean, can you imagine lowering your standards enough to be with Eddie Munson?”
“Let’s hope she comes to her senses eventually,” he agrees. “So, is your husband home now…?”
All Eddie can think is to run, to get the hell out of there before anyone spots him and notices the pink tinging his cheeks and the tears welling in his eyes. He’s so focused on leaving and getting past the two bullies that he forgets about the flowers in his hand, until an infuriated voice calls after him.
“Hey! Get back here!” The manager rolls his eyes when he recognizes the culprit. “Eddie Munson. Of course. I should’ve known that shoplifting isn't too juvenile a crime for you.” 
Eddie can hear Billy and Carol poorly stifling their amusement at his misfortune. He struggles to find the proper words to explain himself as his entire body is engulfed in the flames of embarrassment, burning him from the inside out. “No…I didn’t mean…it was an accident…”
The manager shakes his head with a biting laugh. He’s a graying man who should have been retired fifteen years ago when Eddie was actually shoplifting. The liver-spotted creases around his eyes are particularly visible when he sneers, “Heard that one before. Prob’ly from you.”
Anger burns in Eddie’s throat, but he swallows it. “Look, let me just pay for these, and I’ll get outta here.” He starts to fumble for his wallet, but the old man shakes his head.
“Nice try. I let you off easy too many times when you were a kid, and look where it got ya.” His cold hand clasps Eddie’s bicep as tightly as his feebleness allows. “I’m calling the sheriff. He can decide what to do with you.”
“Shit-shit-shit,” Eddie mumbles, yanking himself from the man’s grip. “Y’don’t have to hold me; I’m not gonna run away.”
To his surprise, the manager lets him go, though it’s likely due to his advanced age rather than trusting Eddie to do the right thing.
He’s taken to the back room, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor and biting his thumbnail. A quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s supposed to pick you up in 15 minutes. He breathes out a long sigh, scanning the bulletin board hastily fastened to the wall with a lone flyer advertising medical benefit sign-up. Upon closer inspection, he reads that it’s for the 1990 fiscal year, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time the stodgy old Bradley ever offered insurance to his overworked, underpaid employees. 
He says a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Hopper is the one who answers the call. The chief will give him the benefit of the doubt and probably tear the old fart a new one for wasting his time.
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Purse, keys, lipstick, condoms.
You have everything you need for your date, save for one minor detail–Eddie.
You’d expected him to stop by your classroom yesterday to say good morning like he normally does, but he didn’t show. He would’ve called you if Harris was staying home sick; a brief peek out your window during recess confirmed that the littlest Munson was present. He ran around the playground with one of his friends from the birthday party, blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning within you.
Eddie definitely heard what happened at the meeting, you realize miserably, and he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash he’ll get from dating his kid’s former teacher. From anxiety blooms visions of the convoluted game of telephone perpetuated by Carol, the story getting more absurd with each retelling. 
At 7:30, Eddie still hasn’t shown. He’s not exactly Mr. Punctuality, but thirty minutes is pushing it, even for him. His tardiness does nothing to ameliorate your fears. This was clearly too much for him—you were too much for him. 
You’re about to wipe the makeup off of your face and change into your coziest pair of pajamas when the phone rings, startling you slightly.
“H-Hello?”
“This is a collect call from the Hawkins County Jail. Do you accept the charges?” an automated voice bleats, too chipper for the circumstances it’s reporting.
You’re caught off-guard by the question and the tone, and you choke out a strangled, “yes” and the line rings twice.
“Sweetheart? You there?” Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Relief floods your body until you remember where he’s calling from.
“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” you say, and it’s only when your fingers start to cramp that you recognize how tightly you’re gripping the receiver. “Why are you in–”
He sighs into the phone, and static briefly clouds his voice. “Long story,” he mumbles. “Can you just come and get me? There’s, uh, no bail or anything.”
“I’ll be right there.” You waste no time in grabbing your keys off of their hook, nearly forgetting to shove your feet into shoes in your scramble out the door. You’re ashamed to admit that for a millisecond, you consider the possibility that he’s been busted for dealing, but you shake it off lest it further infiltrate your psyche.
You pull up to the jail exactly twenty-eight minutes later, the fastest you can get there without flying down side streets; the irony of being pulled over for speeding on your way to the police station was not lost on you. Flinging the car into park and killing the engine, you fast-walk through the entrance and hope your nervousness is hidden by the air of confidence you’re faking. 
“I’m here to pick up Eddie—er, Edward Munson?” His legal name is clunky on your tongue, like it doesn’t quite belong to him. 
The officer behind the desk wears a name badge that reads “P. Callahan.” He puts down his copy of the Hawkins Post and presses his lips into a thin line as he reaches for the walkie attached to his shirt pocket. 
“Hop, is Munson ready to be released?” Released. Like a wild animal who needs to be kept away from the general public for their own safety. 
The officer on the other end—Chief Hopper, you presume—confirms that Eddie is good to go, and a door opens shortly after that. Eddie trudges out, shame and frustration marring his beautiful face. 
You sign whatever paperwork is required before silently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the car. He holds it tight, a shiver of a tremor rocking through it.
“Babe, what happened?” you ask once you’re safely outside, away from where the officers can hear you.
Eddie lets go of your hand to throw his arm around you dramatically, leaning with his whole body weight. The sudden force of it has you stumbling, but he catches your fall. 
“It’s awful being on the inside,” he whines, trying to lay on an exaggerated pout, but his smile pokes through. “You’ve made me too soft for prison, baby. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you and almost got shanked.”
His joke subtly informs you that he’s not ready to actually discuss it yet, and so you roll your eyes and play along for now.  “Poor thing. Locked up for a whole forty minutes.”
“It was more like forty-five,” he protests, “and every second counts when it’s spent missing my girl.”
“You’re so full of it, Munson.” My girl. If he never calls you anything else but his girl for the rest of your lives, you wouldn’t complain.
He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest. “Full of longing and devotion!”
“Sshh!” you chastise him lightly through your giggling. “Get in the car, crazy man.”
“Crazy ‘bout you!” Eddie says, booping your nose. As soon as your fingers wrap around the gearshift, he’s resting his hand atop yours. It trembles slightly.
Tell me what happened. Don’t keep any more secrets from me. I won’t judge you or leave you. I’m your girl, remember?
It takes a few blocks before you finally work up the courage to ask, “Is everything okay?” It’s a stupid question; you don’t get arrested if everything’s okay, but the alternative is a more straightforward, Why the hell did I have to pick you up from jail?, so you acquiesce. 
“‘M good.” He gives your hand another tiny squeeze and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 
You sigh, poorly hiding your impatience for answers you need to know. “Can we talk about what happened?” 
His slow release of breath is in sync with your foot pressing on the brake pedal as you approach a stop sign. “Not a big deal. Just a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding that led to you getting arrested?” Stop hiding. Stop pretending. Stop acting like this is fine when it clearly isn’t. Stop making me feel like you don’t trust me. The words get caught behind clenched teeth, threatening to ooze through the gaps.
“Yup.” He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes as though giving a sufficient response to end the conversation.
You drive another few minutes before you spot the sign for Lovers Lake in the distance. There’s only one surefire way to calm his nerves; whatever it is he’s keeping from you, there’s a reason he hasn’t worked up the courage to say it. 
Eddie sits up and peers out the window in confusion when you veer to the exit. “Where are we—”
“You’ll see.”
Parking in a spot secluded by trees and the dark of night, you turn to him and stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Can I make my man feel good?” you coo, taking his earlobe between your teeth and tugging lightly. You can feel the small bump where his piercings used to be.
“Shit, baby,” he breathily groans, adjusting the seat so you have ample space to straddle his lap. His hands fly to his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling the leather strip from its loops. Though his pants aren’t as tight around him now, you can still see the outline of his now half-hard cock beginning to press against his fly. “‘S exactly what I need.”
But it isn’t solely the act of sex that he needs, although it would be a farce to imply that he didn’t crave the feeling of you wrapped around him. It was the public nature of it; the way that anyone could walk by and see you on top of him. Could see you choosing him. The teacher choosing the Freak. 
You roll your hips, denim-on-denim creating a delicious friction that draws moans from both you and Eddie. Your lips chastely graze his neck, trailing kisses upwards until you reach the prickly stubble along his jawline. 
Eddie’s hands grab your ass, claiming it as his. “Feels—mmf—feels good,” he grunts, letting out a soft chuckle when he adds, “gonna make me cream my jeans if you keep grinding on me like that.”
“S’okay,” you shrug, maintaining your tempo. You press your lips to his and he whines into your mouth. “Just wanna ease your mind tonight, Eds.”
“Yeah, but the face you make when you cum? Christ, babe. Makes it even better for me.” He scoots you off of him for a moment, laughing again when he sees your lower lip jut out. “Let me just grab a condom, you needy little thing.”
You bury your head in the crook of his neck and begin sucking on its supple skin as he fumbles for his wallet. “Fine, fine,” you grumble, a teasing lilt in your tone. “The last thing we need is for people seeing that you knocked me up.”
Eddie freezes beneath you, his wallet falling to the weather-mat with a thud. “Wh…what?” His voice is below a whisper, volume compressed by emotion. 
“We’ve only been together, like, a month.” It’s too obvious a point to confuse him. There’s no way he really wants a kid with you right now. “We can’t have a baby—”
Eddie vehemently shakes his head, effectively cutting you off. “But that’s not what you said.” You see hurt in his eyes as you try to piece together the puzzle. The fact that you can’t immediately identify the source adds another element of frustration for both of you. “You said that we can’t have people seeing that I knocked you up. Why…why wouldn’t you want people knowing that I…?”
The imagined swell of your belly that he’d hoped you proudly show off, mindlessly caressing it as you walk hand-in-hand with him, is now covered with layers of clothing, even in summer’s heat. You’re tugging a cardigan closed, determined not to let anyone see the shame you’re carrying along with Eddie Munson’s child.
“I just figured you wouldn’t want people talking about you,” you manage, thinking of the rumor that had spread after Harris’s injury. You bring yourself back to the driver’s seat, and it takes another moment before something else dawns on you. “You wouldn’t be upset by people knowing? I mean, not that we’d, y’know, have a kid right now…because you already have one, and this is all so new…” You clamp your lips together to shut yourself up, having already blabbered on for too long.
Eddie shakes his head, tousling his frizzy curls. “Why would I be upset? You’re my girl.” Worry ripples through him, evident through his expression. His doe eyes grow even wider, and he spins his rings around his fingers. One slips and bounces off of the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it. “You still want to be my girl, right?”
“I still want to be your girl,” you confirm, watching his body decompress with relief. “I just don’t want to make things even worse than they are. I mean, you can’t even tell me why you were in jail tonight. That’s a pretty big deal, Eds.” There’s a lump in your throat as you force out your feelings. You hate confronting people, hate drawing information from an unwilling party. But Eddie is your boyfriend, and this is serious. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he mutters, keeping his head on the headrest and eyes trained on in front of him; his unwillingness to look at you serves as an act of defiance. “I had to hear about the PTA meeting from Wayne.”
The contents of your stomach curdle like milk in the sun. “You’d just told me about your promotion,” you stumble, unable to find footing in your meek protest, “I didn’t want to—”
“So, yesterday? Or today?” he pushes, a tango of anger and hurt dancing in his darkened pupils. “You could’ve called me.”
You could have; you’d certainly considered it more than once, but you didn’t want to bother him. It seemed like such an asinine complaint: Oh, Eddie, a grown adult bullied me, another grown adult, at the PTA meeting. Did I stand up for myself? Nope. Just sat there and tried not to sob like one of the kids I teach. “I thought if you knew what people were saying, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. You’d think I was too much of a burden.”
“You?” Eddie gawps, nearly choking on the word. “You think that you’re the burden? That you’re the reason why people are talking about this?” People. Not just Carol. The information slips from his lips, but he doesn’t catch it. “Nah, Sweetheart. In the equation of ‘Teacher’ plus ‘Freak,’ you’re hardly the problematic variable.”
“‘Teacher plus Freak?’” 
“Teacher,” he says slowly, pointing to you, “Freak.” He brings his forefinger to his own chest. “I’m kinda used to it; just sucks when it affects other people.” He looks at you through his soft brown eyes. “People I care about.”
You’re unsure how to respond, so you say nothing. You vaguely recall Jess telling you about his high school nickname, but you had no idea it had stuck after all these years. 
Eddie sighs, shifting his position to get slightly more comfortable. “Tonight, I was at the store getting some flowers for you. And, um, I heard Carol and Billy Hargrove talking about how you had to be desperate to be with me. That you’d realize you’re too good for me and leave.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lowers his head. You watch a tear slide down his cheek, and he sucks in a messy breath as he tries to control the dam of emotions threatening to burst.
“Too good for you?” The notion is almost comical, and you have to hold back an incredulous laugh. “Too good for the man who rescued Grandma after she locked herself in her room? Who came to her funeral? Who gave me another chance after I made an ass out of myself?” You use your pointer and middle fingers to tilt his chin upwards until his gaze meets yours. “Too good for the man who would do anything for his son?”
“No,” Eddie shoots back, “too good for the guy who grew up being taunted because he played Dungeons & Dragons instead of basketball. The guy who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend to go on tour. Who treated you like shit just to avoid getting close to you. Who…who got arrested for accidentally taking flowers from Bradley’s because he’d stolen from them so much that no one believed him when he said it wasn’t on purpose.” He recalls swiping candy bars, jars of peanut butter, and the occasional six-pack of Pabst during his rebellious teenage years. After he’d schlepped back to Hawkins, proverbial tail tucked between his legs, there was more than one occasion where he’d ripped diapers from their boxes and tucked them into his jacket pocket, walking as casually as he could until he was a safe enough distance to exhale and run.
You take a sharp breath in. “That’s what happened tonight?”
“Yeah,” he says; the admission is a sack of bricks being lifted from his chest. “Those schmucks got in my head, and I walked out the store with the flowers like a fuckin’ idiot.” He replays the scene in his head, inwardly cringing at his desperation to flee the premises and inadvertently drawing everyone’s attention to him. He starts to laugh, but anger, sadness, and relief all brew together and the dam bursts completely. One tear multiples to two, four, eight, until he’s simultaneously choking on sobs and laughter, the overlapping emotions wreaking havoc on his nervous system.
“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he manages through another half-laugh half-sob. He swipes at his cheeks with open palms, and you reach for the travel box of Kleenex you keep in the glove compartment and hand him a tissue. “Thanks.”
“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for crying,” you murmur, barely audible as you press a kiss into his mess of curls just behind his left ear. “I want–I need you to be able to show me what you’re feeling.” Eddie blows his nose, loud and honking, and your lips turn up into a small smile. “Why do we let them get to us?” you wonder aloud, a question more for you than for him.
“I was thinking about that,” Eddie muses, stuffing the used tissue into his jacket pocket. He’ll try and remember to toss it later, but part of him knows he’ll find it there tomorrow. “Like, I didn’t give a damn what they said about me back in high school, but now, as an adult, I do?” He takes a deep breath through his mouth. “And I realized…it’s because I never cared about what they thought of me. Not really. But, fuck, I care about what you think of me.” He swallows before stroking your cheek. “I want to be enough for you.”
You kiss the tip of his nose, letting your lips linger there longer than necessary to ensure the feeling of belonging becomes entrenched in his pores. “You’re enough, Eddie. You’ve always been enough.” Your hands find his, and you lace your fingers together. “I have an idea. Why don’t we grab some takeout, maybe pick up a bottle of wine, and bring it back to my place.” You immediately worry that you’ve proven his point of not wanting to be seen with him, so you quickly backtrack. “We can still go out to dinner; I just figured…after the night you had…”
He silences you with a kiss of his own, nose nudging the side of yours. “I’d love that.” Before you can start the car again, he says, “what Carol said at the meeting…did it really make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you?”
You nod solemnly, breaking his heart all over again. “You already have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to be another problem to deal with.”
Eddie’s expression hardens, but his frustration isn’t directed towards you. It’s for anyone who has ever made you feel like loving you is a chore. He does the only thing he can think of doing: he takes your face in his hands, fingers tucked behind the smooth skin of your ears, and peppers your face in a flurry of kisses.
“Eddie!” you cry out through a fit of giggles. Your eyes squeeze together as his lips tickle your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your chin. 
He only pulls away to take a breath, and when he does, he’s smiling through shiny eyes as he continues holding your face. “You are not a problem. Never.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “We make each other happy. And if anyone tries to fuck with that, we’ll just…sic Harris on them.”
The gray clouds that were scattered across your brain dissipate at the mere idea of the boy charging at Billy and Carol like a miniature rhinoceros. Insecurity still hovers over you, waiting for the perfect blend of sadness and vulnerability to strike, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before. 
You aren’t too much for Eddie, and Eddie is enough for you.
And you’re everything to each other. 
--
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azsazz · 1 month
Text
Midnight Muse (Part 21)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 3,850
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Masterlist]
_________________________________________
You haven’t spoken to Azriel since the morning you woke up in his bed alone.
Which, granted, has only been one day.  
You’d spent the rest of your Sunday confused, rerunning the previous night over and over and over again until your head hurt with it. You thought that you and Azriel had started anew, if the passionate sex you’d shared the night before was anything to go by. But when you woke, the sheets beside you hadn’t even been warm and the note he’d left you seemed scrawled in haste, like he’d barely had the courtesy to do so on his way out the door.
Something important came up, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Please don’t be mad, princess. I’m coming back to you. —Az
He’d left his number but you’d left the comfort of his bed, slipping back into your dress and collecting your things before doing the ultimate walk of shame next door. Really, it’s much worse than the last time you’d snuck out of his apartment. You’d been hungover then, caring mostly about not throwing up in the hall or waking Azriel, but by the silence of the apartment as you made your way out, there was no need for you to be quiet.
It left you only with the aching between your thighs and the mottled bruises painting your skin purple.
That night was better than a dream. You would’ve never thought that you and Azriel could work past the lingering feud you’d started the year with, and you hadn’t realized how draining your constant grudge had been. It turns out that getting over yourself and under him had been the best thing that could’ve happened for your relationship.
His touch burns your skin long after you’ve showered him off. You can still feel him between your legs, fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he held you still for his taking. The feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing yours, everything that he’d done to you last night, clinging to your very being as if he’d tattooed himself across every inch of your skin.
Maybe you should’ve listened to his note. You could have easily stayed in his bed all day, with how comfortable it is, but as the minutes trickled by, the paranoia set in, eating at you until you’d had to flee.
Feyre hadn’t asked any questions when you slipped into her room after your shower. She’d welcomed you with open arms, a sad look in her eyes as if she knew exactly what happened. And maybe she did; maybe she heard you like you heard her, but you hadn’t cared, only snuggled up to your best friend's side as she put a movie on her laptop for the both of you to watch.
She knew you would tell her in good time.
It hadn’t stopped Azriel from blowing up your phone. He must’ve stolen your number from Rhsyand or Cassian, or perhaps he even told them what happened because message after message after message lit up your notifications, pleading for you to answer your phone like an incessant alarm.
Princess…it’s Az. Where did you go?
Do you want some waffles? There might still be some ice cream left before Cassian finishes it all, but with the spoon he’s found, it won’t last long.
Can I please explain? 
And finally: 
I can hear your phone buzzing through the wall. Please answer me.
You hadn’t replied to those, nor any of the ones that followed. You half expected him to come knocking at your door, but Feyre had noticed your poor mood and told Rhys that the two of you were having a girl’s day and not to bother either of you.
You could’ve both kissed and been upset with her for that.
You wanted that explanation from Azriel, but you also wanted him to fight for it. Let him come knocking, let him ask you in person to explain. Who finally gets the girl and leaves her to wake up alone? Especially after all of the things Azriel had admitted to you…
Monday morning is much the same. You’d successfully avoided seeing Azriel on your way to campus, and as much as you tried focusing on your drawing course, none of the shapes you were drawing turned into anything great.
You’d expected it to be bliss, to get your mind off of every little nitpicky thing you keep thinking about from that night. Feyre and Lucien’s presence helped some, but when the class quieted  down for a drawing exercise and you were left alone with your thoughts once again, they naturally drifted back to yesterday morning. Maybe you had misread Azriel’s intentions and he was only looking for a one night stand. You did make the first move, afterall. 
It was all a jumbled mess in your head that could only make sense if Azriel explained it. And now you’re once again thinking that you should have stayed…or at least texted him back.
“You okay, (Y/N)?” Lucien asks, startling you from your thoughts. The tip of your charcoal cracks against your drawing pad and you frown, staring at the black chalky marks on your fingers. You frown, shoving the immediate thought of Azriel from your head and tilt your head up to meet Lucien’s concerned gaze.
You offer him a forced smile. “Yeah, sorry, I was zoning out a bit. I’m fine.” You hadn’t realized that class ended and everyone is packing up their things. Feyre’s over by the drawers, stowing her pad in the one you share. Lucien doesn’t look like he believes you, but he stays silent while you hastily pack your supplies away, grimacing at the drawing you’d been working on. 
You don’t check your phone. You’d already woken up to multiple messages from Azriel this morning, asking to walk you to class and explain. Luckily, you hadn’t run into him on your way out the door, tearing down the staircase with a confused Feyre trying to keep up.
Lucien and Feyre are talking about where you should all head to lunch when the three of you leave the building. Alis had announced another assignment, and the premise already hangs heavy on your shoulders. The instructions were left loose enough that you have once again no idea what you’re going to draw for it. It’s infuriating, how everyone else just seems to know immediately what they’re wanting to create when it takes you weeks to figure it out, and then when you do, you’re changing your mind again and again, worried that nothing is good enough.
You run smack into Lucien’s back while you’re lost in your thoughts. Your friends are three steps out the door and your nose stings from where you’d hit it against your friend. Lucien hardly even seems to notice, his mouth set in a straight line and he and Feyre stare directly ahead. 
At Azriel, who’s leaning up against the railing. He looks so nervous it’s almost as if he doesn’t even go to this school; doesn’t walk into the same buildings or around the same campus. His thumb is tucked into the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder, and the other is stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. His black hair is tousled but not from the wind, from the amount of times he’s nervously run his fingers through it.
You watch his golden eyes flick over Feyre and Lucien, darkening as they rove over your copper haired friend while you step out from behind him. He instantly finds your gaze and they soften, and then he’s pushing off from the railing and making his way towards you. Your face heats because this is the last place you thought Azriel would corner you. In public.
“Hey, Azriel,” Feyre greets, glancing over at you. You shake your head softly but keep your gaze pinned to Azriel who strides closer like he no longer has a care in the world. It’s a front and you know it.
Azriel nods politely, but he doesn’t break your stare. “(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?”
You feel Feyre’s confused blue eyes burning into your skin. The way that she slides her phone from her pocket like she’s trying not to make any sudden movements is not missed by you nor Azriel, but neither of you seem to care that she’s seconds away from messaging Rhys about this. You wonder if he knows, if Azriel had admitted anything to his roommates about you, about the night you shared together. 
Lucien is tense, shoulders coiled tight. He’s almost glaring at Azriel but it doesn’t faze the onyx haired boy in the least, like he’s a speck of dust on his shoulder. Nothing can deter Azriel, of this you know. Somehow, he’s just as stubborn as you are, and the soft look in his eyes, pleading with you, makes your stomach twist.
“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing. You turn to your friend so you don’t have to witness the relief on his face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And I’ll see you in Art History, Fey.”
“You better,” your best friend mutters, already tapping away at her phone. She drags Lucien by the sleeve because he doesn’t seem inclined to leave you alone with Azriel despite you agreeing to speak with him. Azriel looks like he’s going to bare his teeth at the boy. “Come on, Luc.”
You start down the stairs of the building, going the opposite direction from your friends. You can feel Lucein’s sun and moon eyes on you as you walk, but you don’t turn around to look. 
Azriel catches up to you in two great strides. You don’t know where you’re going, fine with waltzing around campus while you talk. You might need to text Feyre to bring you something to eat during class, because you’re getting hungry for lunch.
“I don’t like him,” Azriel mutters, and you can tell by the tight grip he has on the straps of his backpack.
“I don’t think you like anyone,” you respond, not unkindly, but it’s not a friendly remark either. It’s strange almost, to be seen with him in public not only after your public feud, but the night you’d spent together as well. It feels like a dirty little secret has come to light, and you don’t like it.
Azriel glances at you sidelong, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “I like you.”
You snort because he doesn’t even know you, not really. “You didn’t even like me two days ago, Azriel,” you start but he’s already shaking his head in disagreement, denying your accusations. “And with the way you up and left me in your room, I’m thinking there’s still a possibility that you don’t even like me now.”
He stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow, turning you to face him. You stumble at the suddenness of the move and it puts you a step closer to him than you’d like. His grip on your arm isn’t firm or demanding, it’s a soft caress that matches the pleading look in his honeyed eyes.
“Please,” he murmurs, and you can see just how much your avoidance has been bothering him. His fingers tremble along your arms and when you look down at them he pulls away, nervously tucking them into the pocket of his hoodie. It makes something in your chest crack a little. “I can explain.”
“Explain, then,” you answer simply.
Azriel shifts on his feet, glancing around. There are students milling about and you should probably keep walking or at least move out of the way, lest the both of you get mowed down by someone late to class or a biker. “Here?” 
You quirk a brow.
He sighs a little, exasperated. “Can I take you somewhere? How about lunch?” 
You study him. It’s clear that he wants to explain to you, and he looks just as stressed out about the situation as you are. And you really do want to hear what he has to say for himself, if his reason for leaving you is forgivable…
“Fine,” you relent, and his shoulders drop a notch. “But I have class this afternoon and I can’t be late.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Rita’s is the kind of place that you walk past and don’t go in. 
The outside is a smidge better than decrepit, with its peeling paint and uneven sidewalk. There’s graffiti on the side of the building, tags you can hardly ready with how curvy and obnoxious the letters look. One of the windows has a shade, but it’s hanging by a thread and looks more like a hazard than not, and the rest of the windows are bare, sunlight pouring into the yellowing casement. You wouldn’t even know the place is open with its rusted neon sign so broken and sad. 
But Azriel guides you in through the door with a hand on the small of your back and you blame the shiver that travels up your spine on the blast of cold air that hits you in the face when you step over the threshold.
Maybe you’ve been a little harsh on its exterior appearance because the inside is tidy. The air smells like greasy burgers and crunchy fries, and there’s a shiny jukebox in the corner playing an oldies song you think you’ve heard at one of Cassian’s parties once. Well, you heard it through the wall when the entirety of said party belted it at the top of their lungs and not even your headphones could block out the noise.
There’s an older man sitting at the counter and a girl who looks to be about your age behind the counter. She’s smacking her gum and doodling on her order pad, a half abandoned milkshake melting in the red cup beside her. She doesn’t even look up when Azriel leads you towards a booth, and you slide in opposite him with furrowed brows.
“What’s wrong?” He asks you, nervousness flicking through his eyes. He hesitates to sit down, awaiting your response.
“Nothing,” you assure him with a soft smile you don’t feel is genuine. “I didn’t even know this place was here, really.”
Azriel all but slumps onto the electric blue seat, eyes sparkling with delight. Your heart rate picks up at the sight of the little grin he offers you. It’s nice to see this side of him, happy and relaxed, in his element. 
You wonder how he looks when he’s concentrated on a drawing, or a tattoo.
He’s got them covered up with his leather jacket today, though the tips of those coiling shadows around his collar bones peek out from the neckline of his black t-shirt and you think about how much you were coiled around each other the other night, skin to skin.
Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you look down at your lap.
“It’s great,” Azriel explains, slipping out of his jacket. You wish you had paid more attention to the artwork marking his skin the night you spent together but there hadn’t been much time to with the way you were all over each other, and he wasn’t around when you woke up. “Been coming here since freshman year.” 
You’re about to respond when the waitress you’d seen arrives, slapping two menu’s down on the funky patterned table. You startle with the motion and shift uncomfortably when Azriel all but glares at the girl. She doesn’t seem to care though, flipping her stark white hair over her shoulder with a sneer.
Her brown eyes flit over you like you’re a piece of her chewed gum stuck under the table, then leans her hip against the edge of the table, flipping her order pad open. “I already know what you want,” he says haughtily to Azriel, and then those piercing brown eyes are on you, pinning you to your seat like it’s a trap from Saw. “What will you be having?” 
“I, um, I’m not sure yet,” you stutter awkwardly, because you’re confused. Who is this and why is Azriel acting like this is normal? “I need to look at the menu.” 
She rolls her eyes and the silence that ensues makes your face grow hot, sweat bead at your hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest, popping a bubble with her gum, and it’s as if she’s waiting for you to look at the menu and decide right now. You send a pleading look to Azriel whose jaw is ticking with annoyance.
“Give us a minute, will you, Cresseida? And let Rita know I’m here. Thanks.” 
With another eye roll and an annoyed “Whatever,” Cresseida all but stomps away from your table. Your eyes trail her until she’s around the counter and pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
“She seems…lovely,” you mutter, fingering the corner of the menu where it’s bent. “Seems like the kind of place you would’ve taken me when we didn’t like each other,” you tack on, squinting at the small font. Why are there so many items on the menu?
“I’m sorry about her,” Azriel blurts, and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen him blush. It’s unfairly adorable. He offers you a hand, face up, and you can’t resist that look in his eyes, how he’s offering you his scarred hand instead of hiding it. With a short huff, you place your palm on his and he immediately intertwines your fingers, holding tight. It makes you blush. “She’s always been cranky,” he peers over his shoulder like she might be standing right behind him. “I promise, Rita is much nicer.”
You give him a forced smile because honestly, you’re not sure what else to say to that. You’re not even sure you’re all that hungry anymore, with Cresseida’s off putting attitude and the nerves that are gnawing on your stomach from the talk you’re about to have with Azriel.
You busy yourself with looking at the menu. There are way too many options and not enough time to decide because a short, stocky woman is trapezing her way around the countertop and towards your table, her eyes glowing with joy.
“Azriel, what brings you back so soon? Oh—and who is this lovely lady?” Her eyes fall across your intertwined fingers and she fails to stifle the beaming grin that appears on her red lips. You can tell that she’s a gem by appearance alone, but also in the way that she looks at Azriel, like he’s the son she’s never had. You can’t help but to smile at her. Her round face is flush with a permanent blush and she looks like the kind of woman you’d love to hug.
“Rita, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Rita, the owner of Rita’s Diner.”
“Very nice to meet you,” you greet eagerly, trying to pull your hand away from Azriel’s to shake her hand. He doesn’t let go, and smirks at the glare you shoot his way.
“(Y/N) as in…” Rita trails off, flicking a glance at Azriel. You narrow your eyes at him, curious as to what he’s told her about you. She continues, “As in your girlfriend, Azriel?”
You almost splutter, cheeks going red hot at her insinuation.
Azriel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, admiring the color to your cheeks and the shock in your eyes. “Not yet.”
Not yet. 
But maybe soon, when he finally explains himself.
Rita winks at him and you really want to bury your face in the menu right now.
“What can I get for you, darlin’?” Rita asks, her voice sweet as cherry pie.
“I don’t know, there are so many options…” you trail off, sending a pleading look towards Azriel. “Almost too many to choose from.”
Rita’s chest swells with pride and Azriel snickers.
“Cass prefers the pancakes,” he supplies, “But I think the waffles are better.”
“Pancakes, it is,” you beam, handing Rita back the menu. Azriel glares playfully and Rita seems positively overjoyed as she makes her way back to the kitchen.
Your smiles fade with Rita’s cheerful attitude and it’s all too soon that you’re aware you’re holding Azriel’s hand and he still hasn’t explained. You look at him and he’s already sighing. There are dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and you can tell that he hadn’t slept well last night either.
Azriel strokes a thumb across your knuckles and your tense shoulders ease a bit. The embarrassment you’d felt when you woken up alone in his bed has simmered with his eagerness to explain to you what happened that morning, but you’re still feeling a bit tender about it, especially when you see the pained look on Azriel’s face.
Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.
And you feel like a fool when he answers your question lingering between the both of you. 
“The reason I wasn’t there that morning was because my father was in town. He came to see me.” 
You try to swallow back the sudden rage boiling up from your stomach. The man who’d let his step-sons burn Azriel’s hands. The one who doesn’t want him to follow his dreams, his passions, when he clearly has the skill to do something amazing with them. The one who didn’t even visit him that night of the incident.
You squeeze his hand and Azriel seems to relax, understanding your forgiveness. Your throat is still tight when you respond, forcing the word out. “Okay…”
It gives him room to continue, even though Azriel looks like he’d rather face Cresseida’s wrath again.
“He found interest in purchasing and renovating our apartment building.” 
You blink, not sure you’ve heard him correctly. “What?” You tack on, defensively. “Why?”
Azriel shrugs. To keep me in fucking check. He sighs as if the tremendous weight on his shoulders is two seconds away from crushing him completely. You don’t like that frown on his face and you don’t like his father.
“He thinks it’s a good investment opportunity, I guess.”
You don’t like the sound of this one bit, and Azriel agrees with you.
“And if he does buy it?”
Azriel shakes his head sadly, “No more neighbors.” 
You didn’t think the thought of not being his next door neighbor would hit you so hard. Your chest aches with the idea of it, no longer sharing a wall. Even though you despised it at the beginning, you’ve gotten used to and even like the fact that you share a wall now.
Rita comes back and sets a plate of hot pancakes in front of you and a stack of blueberry waffles in front of Azriel. Everything smells delicious and your mouth waters at the sight of the thick pat of butter melting its way across the top of your breakfast.
She places a milkshake between you and Azriel, and there’s no missing the two neon colored straws sticking out of the top. You blush, thanking her.
She winks in response. “Enjoy, you two.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthrongirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl
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xxblairexxss · 9 months
Text
Revenge (part 2)
Part 1
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Tiny bit of angst and fluff
In which Charles tried to fix things back after what he did to you last night. Not proofread!
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Charles didn’t sleep at all that night. He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t deserve a wink of sleep after what he did. Funny how he was so tired last night but couldn’t even afford a minute of sleep now. He tried to check up on you but you locked the door. Yeah, served him right. The audacity for him to even try to see you after everything he said was unbelievable.
He only fell asleep due to exhaustion and it felt like a solid 5 minutes before his alarm rang. The house felt cold for some reason. It was early in the morning. He knew you would still be asleep.
Soon as he took a shower and got dressed up, he walked past the guest room and made his way to get the car key. He thought it would be better to not disturb you as you had enough from him anyway. That was when he saw a bowl of fruits on the table with a small handwritten notes on the side.
‘My handwriting is probably so hideous with my left hand but I hope you can read this. I couldn’t prepare your favourite sandwich but I cut these fruits for you. Make sure to eat something before you head out! I’m sorry about last night.’
Charles had to sit as he felt his legs getting weak. Why did you have to make things even worse. He was too embarrassed to talk to you and now he didn’t think he could even look at you in the eyes.
“Chérie?” He softly knocked on the door before turning on the doorknob. Charles took a peek inside the guest room and there you were, sound asleep with one hand clutching on the heating pad against your stomach. He had come in hoping he could apologize or at least say something before he left but seeing the way you sleep, your hair bun was loose as those strands of hair covering your face, you looked like you had just fallen asleep so he didn’t have the heart to bother you.
Charles sat on your side of the bed, careful not to wake you up as he heaved a sigh and tucked the strands of hair away from your face. “Why do you have to do that…after everything I have said.” He placed his hand against your cheek and stroked his thumb on your jaw. You were so kind, too kind that he didn’t know if he still deserve everything, all of this, the blessing of being your boyfriend and to have you as his. “I’ll be back as soon as the shooting ended. I love you.” He leaned in to kiss on your forehead before tucking you in and leave the room.
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“I have never met someone who looks so sad eating strawberries.” Joris took the vacant sit in front his best friend who looked like he had dark clouds surrounding him. “What happened? Was it Y/N?”
“Yeah, I fucked up.” Charles had been playing with the fruit ever since he reached the set. Nothing felt right. He kept on reminding himself to smile and to not bring any private matters into job but it was even harder this time. Maybe telling someone about it would make it better so he told Joris.
“What the fuck? Dude, you know I have always got your back but that was really messed up. What about all the cuts on her? What happened?” Joris would have smacked his friend in the head if they weren’t in public. He wasn’t an expert when it came to dating but he knew that was so low of him.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask her about that.” He wiped his palm across his face. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know where you got all those cuts and bruises from. All this time he thought you injured yourself on purpose.
“You didn’t ask her? What a fucking gentleman you are. Your girlfriend came home all bleeding and all you cared about was your image?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t—sighs—I don’t know. I fucked up, okay. I know.” He aggressively messed on his hair and covered his face with his palm.
“Y/N even prepared you these after what happened? I would have left the house and you in a second.” You had always been Joris’s favourite. He could see you were different than any of Charles’s exes and hearing what Charles did to you made him fuming.
“No, no. Don’t say that. I can’t—I really can’t lose her, Joris.”
“Well then you should keep your act together or I’m gonna be offering her a ride to get away from you any second she calls me.”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
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Charles wasn’t expecting the reply. You would always asked him to buy you tons of your favourite snacks whenever you got your period.
“How was your girlfriend?”
“Pardon?” Charles thought he was hearing things.
“Your girlfriend. That poor girl was hit by a bicycle last night it was really bad. Thank god she has a very loving boyfriend to take care of her. Is this all?” The old man scanned on the items Charles had put on the counter before clicking on the total amount. “Sir, are you alright?”
Charles believed the universe had arranged every events today just to remind how much of an asshole he was. “Yeah, I’m alright. Here, keep the change.”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“Chérie?”
Charles closed the door and locked it before walking to the room. He knew you were in the bathroom when he heard a mumble coming from it. “Love, what are you doing?”
You had been struggling to put an ointment to your cuts. The cap of the ointment was fully sealed so you had to spend 10 minutes trying to open it and everything felt so awkward when you had to do things with your left hand. “I was just trying to put these on, I thought you won’t be home until another hour. I’m sorry let me clean up the mess. I’m really sorry.” You hurriedly put all the ointments and cotton bud aside.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Charles pushed open the door to the bathroom wider and took a step closer to take the cotton pad from your hand to which you took a stepped back in surprise.
You were still scared of him. You were scared of your own boyfriend.
“I—…” He felt his throat closing up and had to breath from his mouth. He couldn’t believe what had just happened and he was scared, scared of what would happen from here. “Love, I just wanted to help.”
“No, it’s okay… I can do it myself.” You gave him a smile, a smile that Charles knew was just a smile to ask him to leave you alone.
“No, let me help you. Please?” He slowly took the cotton pad from your hand.
“It’s okay, I can do it myself. You can take your rest, I won’t take up your time. I’ll be quite I promise.” You gave him a smile, the same one that didn’t reach your eyes.
Charles knew he messed up but he never thought what he did last night would make you completely shut him off. You used to seek for comfort in him whenever you were in pain, now he was asked to be away because you thought you were taking up his time.
“You didn’t take up my time. I’m your boyfriend I should be the one helping you. Give me that.” He took the cotton pad back from your hand and he leaned in to carry you up, one hand supporting your back and another one behind your legs out from the bathroom and headed to the room. “Stay still, Y/N. It started to bleed again.”
“Charles, it’s okay. I can do it—“ You tried to take the cotton pad away from him but he retracted his hand before you could touch it.
“If you can take it from me then I’ll let you do it yourself.” He dropped the ointments onto the cotton pad and pulled his hand away when you tried to snatch on it again.
“Charles, I’m serious. Let me do it myself.” You let out a sigh knowing you could never win against him since you didn’t go through those reflex tests like he did for years.
“And I am not playing around too. Take it from my hand and I’ll let you do it, love.” He dapped the cotton pad on the cut a few times and placed it away. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, that should be fine. I can put the wound plaster on my own.” You bended and was going to take the box of wound plaster that was on his side before he snatched it first.
“Too late. I got it first.”
“Charles..”
“There you go. All set.” Charles ignored your plead and threw away all plastics and used cotton pad away before taking a seat on your side. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes..”
“And what did you eat?”
“Something..”
“Yeah, right. I’ll order something.” Charles stood up to get his phone but you hold him arm before he walked away.
“I don’t want takeouts. Can you cook me your carbonara?”
“My infamous carbonara? That dish was put out of the menu, remember?” He took a seat back on the bed and was greeted with a forlorn look from you. “I think I can bring it back. Pretty sure it’ll taste better than my last attempt.”
He had asked you to stay put and you could hear all the ruckus going on in the kitchen. Charles loved to talk to himself whenever he cooked so you could hear “This is good. I’m such a good cook.” and “Carlos would be impressed if he tasted this.”
“Charles?”
“Yes, love? Am I taking a long time?” He turned around and saw you walked towards him while playing with your ring, the ring that he gave you. “What’s wrong?” He took your hands in his and brought it up to his lips and peck on the ring.
“I…”
“What is it, love?”
“I didn’t go out last night on purpose. My cramp hurt and I didn’t want to keep on pestering you. I swear on my life I wasn’t trying to ruin your night I was supposed to head out, bought the painkiller, went home, and slept.” You couldn’t look at your boyfriend in the eyes because deep down you were still reminded of his enraged look and whatever he said to you last night.
Charles pulled into a hug and kissed on the side of your head. “I know, baby. I know. I was wrong and I’m really really sorry. I didn’t know what took over me, I didn’t know why I was so mad. I know and I understand if you still can’t forgive me but let me take care of you.” He didn’t hear you say anything but he could feel your body started to shake as you cried in his arms. “I guess seeing you last night with all those cuts made me infuriated at myself and I took it out on you by thinking of the worst.”
He broke the hug and brought his upper body down to level his gave with your teary eyes and held your face as his thumb stroked on the freshly dropped tears on your cheeks. “I know everything I did can never be easily forgiven and I understand that. I’ll sleep on the couch if you don’t want me on the bed, I’ll leave you alone after this. Just stop thinking as if any of this was your fault and that you shouldn’t trouble me with your problems. I could cancel every schedule I have if it meant I could take care of my sick girlfriend. You are my responsibility.”
“I didn’t hurt myself on purpose. I was on my way home and—“
“I know what happened. That guy shouldn’t even ride a bicycle if he can’t control it.” He frowned in displeasure thinking about it.
“But he was nice.”
“Are you saying that the stranger is nicer than your boyfriend? He replied and made you titter in response. “On second thought, I am an asshole so he is probably nicer than me.”
You laid your head back on his chest and you could feel his arm snaked around your waist instantly. “You are not an asshole. You were tired. People say things they don’t mean when they are too tired.”
“That still doesn’t excuse my behavior last night, baby. Joris was fuming I feel like he would have choked me to death if it wasn’t for the staffs around the set.” He slid his hand under your oversized shirt and stroked on your skin.
“Well, serve you right.”
“Yeah, serve me right for treating my prettiest, softest, kindest girlfriend that way. I’m sorry, love.” He pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.
“Stop apologizing. I’m hungry.”
“Ah! My pasta! You distracted me. Anyway, I bought your favourite chocolates on my way home earlier but you said you didn’t want anything so I guess they are mine.”
“Can we share?”
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hellfire--cult · 9 months
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
WC: 12.9k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy and Stripper!Steve at the end.
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: You get to know Eddie in a more intimate way, and he helps you with something you didn't think he would agree to. But friends always help eachother.
Listen to the kissing scene here, with AI Eddie.
A/N: Can't even begin to describe how happy you guys made me with all of your reblogs and boosting this story in ways I didn't think could be done! Welcome to all new followers, to all new readers and thank you for your support!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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PART 4
You ran out of coffee. That’s the first thing you noticed this morning as you got up and wanted your shot of caffeine. The fact you would have to go out to go get a cup of coffee before starting your day at work, was already making you whine with exasperation. 
You had a coffee machine at home because you always liked some nice, steamy, cup of coffee as soon as you woke up, but, you forgot to get it last time you went grocery shopping, swearing you had some, knowing you had some, so your best guess was that Robin snuck in and took it, forgetting to tell you.
You both have copies of your keys, because that’s the one lucky thing of having a friend in the same complex. If something seems out of the ordinary, or something happens at all, you could always go and check on eachother. It was safe, and you both liked feeling safe by one another.
But there were times where Robin would sneak in while you were out or something, or even sleeping, and she would get stuff she doesn’t have. You could go do that to her as well, but she probably used it all by now, so it was no use. You know Robin’s got a sweet stash at her home, so you always invade her property to steal some Reeses or some Musketeers. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror, wearing your Pikachu PJs and groaned, knowing you had to change out of the comfy clothes to get into restraining ones. You looked at the clock, 8:10. You had fifty minutes before you got into work, so you moved quickly to get dressed, with the new clothes you got during last week. 
After that meeting with Eddie and his friends, you’ve been shopping during the week, sometimes with Robin, sometimes by yourself, and you actually quite liked picking up clothes that no one could judge in the changing room but you and you only. You’ve gotten blouses, tank tops, a lot of colors, skirts, even shorts you felt comfortable in.
But you also bought something you never thought you would buy. A black piece of lingerie. Seeing it against your body, made you feel powerful, there was the obvious insecurity at the back of your throat and your mind, trying to tell you that you would not use it, that you don’t need it, that you don’t even look like the mannequin where it was displayed.
But you still felt that power. And you wanted it. So you got it. As well as a black stiletto dress, some heels, some accessories. Yes, your credit card bill will be something next month, but it was the first time you shopped, pushing so many negative thoughts away, listening to your gut only. 
So, right now, you put on some pair of jeans and a pink blouse over you, throwing on your white sneakers as well, since it was just a trip to the coffee shop that was two blocks away from your apartment complex. You grabbed your purse, threw your cell phone in there and off you went, walking into the morning sun and the soft summer breeze hitting your skin as you walked.
The days were getting hotter, and you were happy to have A/C in your apartment and mostly in your room, because that would have been agonizing. You could see people in suits walking to get the bus, or going straight to their workplace, and of course the old ladies that took their morning walks with their little dogs.
You reached the coffee shop, small, but it served coffee. You never came here, always opting to go to starbucks or another shop, because here, in this particular shop, there was always–
“Hello! What can I get for you?” Your eyes finally focused on the pair of green ones in front of you. A small knot appeared in your belly, as the nerves vacated in your throat, looking at the guy in front of you. He had black hair, and a bright smile on his face, the apron of the shop sitting on his waist. 
You licked your lips as you felt your fingertips warming up, as well as your ears, looking up at the menu as your brain started working once more. You scanned your options and took a deep breath in, pushing yourself to look down towards the guy’s eyes once again. 
“I would like a medium coffee, with half creamer in it please.” You respond to him, no shakiness in your voice, no stuttering, you didn’t even think of the words, or process anything, you just talked. And he was a handsome young man, probably beginning his 20’s, but his eyes were sharp green, yet, you didn’t feel like running away.
“Sure thing! To go?” Was his next question and you wanted to nod, because it didn’t require for you to speak really, but you still did, just to prove yourself, just to feel prouder and feel your chest gleam with victory.
“Yes, please.” You grabbed your purse and found your hands steady, a little bit of coldness at the tip of your fingers, but nothing like before. Nothing like you would have acted before. You grabbed your wallet and took out the money, and you looked at the bill in your hand and the counter. You raised your head up again, and put the money in front of you for him to take from your hand.
He smiled and grabbed the bill from the other end, and you felt yourself blush slightly as you saw he was about to give you change.
“Keep it.” It wasn’t much, but this had made your day insanely better, by a mile, and it didn’t even start yet. The sun was up, yes, but it was too early in the morning. The guy smiled at you again, giving you a nod.
“Thank you lovely.” Oh, a pet name. Your heart picked up a pace as you smiled back at him, and his back finally turned, letting you exhale a shaky breath out of your lips. Your stomach was knotting, but you kept your gaze up, hand on the counter as you waited for him to finish your coffee. There was a part of you that wanted to run away, but because you didn’t know what to take of that pet name. Eddie says them all the time, so it’s nothing special, right? It’s just a way of calling someone.
He turned around with your coffee in hand, and slid it over to you with a smile to his face, which you returned, despite feeling your neck burning from nervousness, and you grabbed your cup, putting the strap of your purse over your shoulder. You cleared your throat slightly and pushed your limits once again.
“Have a good day.” You say to him and he gives you a small chuckle and a nod.
“You too Miss!” And that was that. You turned around and walked out of the door, with a small ding as you opened it. You were wide eyed, a huge grin on your face as you walked, trying to keep your excitement inside. A month ago, you wouldn’t have done that, there was no way you would have done something like that! You looked at him, straight in the eye and even held a conversation! Tipped him! 
You were panting heavily as you finally reached your complex, looking at the time on your phone as you headed to Robin’s apartment. You had 20 minutes before logging into work, and you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t contain it inside yourself. You fumbled with the keys on her lock, and rushed inside, pushing the door closed with your foot and dropping everything, the cup of coffee and your purse on Robin’s table.
You rushed towards her room, already hearing the intense snoring your friend has, and you opened her door to see her hugging her pillow, while drooling all over it, one leg over the comforter as she slept on her side. You bit your lip as you tiptoed to her right side, and then lightly shook her shoulder.
“Robin… Robs…” You tried waking her up and all you got was a soft snore and a grunt.
“5 more minutes and I’ll get ready mom…” You giggled under your breath and shook her harder.
“Robin, wake up, I have to tell you something!” You exclaimed a little louder this time, and that made her head prop up from her pillow, doing a slurping sound as she put her spit back in her mouth, her hair almost looking like a nest.
“What the fuck are you doing? Its–” She double tapped the phone on her nightstand and looked at the time through half lidded eyes. “Almost 9 AM! I work at 10 and I wake up ten minutes before logging in.” She grunted out to you and you were still smiling widely and shaking her shoulder.
“But I need to tell you something! Look what I got!” You rushed outside the room to go grab the forgotten cup of coffee and then rushed back towards Robin’s room to see her sitting up, rubbing her eyes while yawning. You showed her your cup and she just looked at you as if you were completely insane.
“You got… Coffee?” And her eyes slightly widened as she rubbed her eyes with her fingers, pinching them as frustration hit her. “I took the last of your coffee, shit, forgot to tell you.”
“Robin, no! I got it from the coffee shop two blocks down!” You tried again and she just looked at you with a confused look on her face.
“I don’t know why you woke me up for, but I do not appreciate it–”
“The barista was a guy!” 
And Robin sat there, looking at you, blinking slowly as your news sank in. She knew about the guy at that coffee shop, she buys her coffee there, while you drive around to look for Female baristas, but now you bought coffee from the same place she does. It was a family business and the guy is the son of the owner. 
“You bought coffee…”
“Yes.”
“From the barista, who is a man.”
“Yes, and I said thank you, tipped him, gave the money in his hand and even wished him a good day without driving my eyes away.” You puffed out your chest as you took a sip of your coffee which was now cold, making you wince in disgust. 
Robin slowly started smiling widely at you and she plopped herself onto the bed again with a cheer, excitement blooming in her chest for you, because this now offered you possibilities, chances, and it opened so many doors for you, the possibility of thousands of paths you could take.
“Holy shit! GOD BLESS STRIPPERS!” She yelled out loud which made you choke on the coffee you were sipping, and then trying to shush her through your coughs.
“Robin, shut up!” You laughed as you placed your cup on her night table, sitting next to her as she just stared at the ceiling with a wild look on her face.
“This is huge! Like, now you can talk to strangers! Like, complete strangers without knowing their name! This is a big step!” She giggled as she looked up at you and you were smiling, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly because of how proud you felt of yourself. 
“He even called me Lovely, and I didn’t flinch! I blushed of course, but I stood my ground.” You tell her, and she sat up, pinching your cheek tightly.
“I am so proud of you…” And you knew she meant it as you pushed her away from the assault on your cheek, rubbing it afterwards as you laughed at her, but Robin’s smile faded slightly as she looked down at her hands. “What about the other girls? When will you tell them that you’re doing this?” She asked and yes, you have been keeping this a secret therapy from the other girls in the group, but because you wanted to surprise them, and you also felt too much pressure on yourself if many people knew about this. 
“When I get a date… I will tell them. I just feel like I have to make them proud if I do tell them, like I will force myself to move rapidly and not at my own pace.” You try to explain and gladly Robin understood, giving you a nod. Her smile returned but in the shape of a smirk as she scooted closer to you.
“You gonna tell Eddie?” You looked at her and you felt a burning happening on your ears, and you felt a cold sweat going from the bottom of your neck and running towards your chest. “You still going to his house after work?” Your eyes widened as you jumped up from the bed.
“WORK!” You rushed out of the bedroom, leaving a laughing Robin trying to catch her breath on her bed. Of course, she couldn’t go back to sleep from the excitement now, and the fact that you would be going to Eddie’s later on was making even more excited.
Because she wasn’t invited this time.
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You fixed your half ponytail again as you stood in front of Eddie’s apartment door. You chose a different outfit now, jeans, wide leg this time, and a tight crop top white T-shirt, that covers your belly button of course. You had some bunky white sneakers on your feet, and you had done some eyeliner, mascara, and covered a few marks on your face that were here and there. 
The butterflies in your stomach were going wild as you waited for him, hearing the thumping coming closer to the door. Fridays were Eddie’s day off, so it would be just the two of you in his apartment. You doubted on saying yes to this when he invited you over, but you two were friends, it was something normal to do. So why are you still nervous?
The door opened and you looked up to see Eddie smiling down at you and his eyes widened slightly as he looked at you.
“All this for me?” He motioned towards your outfit and you couldn’t help the small smile that came up to your lips as well as a blush spreading on your cheeks, not expecting his praise. He opened his arms for you, raising his eyebrow up, hiding behind his fringe, his hair in a high bun, with some strands falling on his face.
You saw the black shirt, tightening on his chest and biceps as he opened his arms. The guitar pick hanging from his neck, and the black ripped pants on his legs, followed by some combat black boots. You rocked a bit on your heels as you got closer to him, feeling your stomach slowly rising to your throat. He was smirking as he wrapped his arms around you, not too tight, but it was enough to invade you with warmth, and his cologne penetrated your nostrils, making you feel slightly dizzy.
You gulped heavily as you slowly placed your cheek on his chest, feeling the warmth on your skin growing hotter, stiffening all over as his arms pressed onto your shoulders to pull you closer.
“Your arms around me, return my amazing warm hug.” He joked, but he was actually quite nervous about this. He had told you in the last video call that he would like to greet you properly with a hug, and you agreed, after catching your breath a few times, but you did. He felt his heart beat slightly faster as your perfume invaded his sense of smell, noting the sweetness of it, but also the powerful punch to it. 
You raised your arms, feeling them tremble slightly, slowly putting your hands against his waist, almost a brush, not putting pressure on your grip and Eddie shook his head, you could feel over yours, which was making your blush deepen even more as the butterflies in your belly were creating hurricanes and tornadoes from how wild they were flying.
“Your arms, not just your hands. Wrap your arms around me Sweetheart.” You closed your eyes at the vibration on his chest as he talked, taking another deep breath in, guiding your hands towards his back to finally wrap your arms around his waist. He chuckled and finally squished you into him, making you choke up at the sudden gesture, your chest pressing against his harshly, knocking the air out of your lungs.
“Eddie, what the fuck–” You choked out with a weak voice and he finally pulled away, laughing at your reaction as you took many deep breaths to get your lungs to decompress again.
“That’s a guy friend hug for you. Come on, I’ll prepare us some nice drinks, and guess what!” He said excitedly as you walked into his apartment, the blush still spread on your cheeks as you held your chest. 
“What?” He pointed towards the coffee table in front of the couch, and there you saw the bowl of Nachos and different smaller bowls that contained salsas and dip sauces. Your face lit up as you rushed towards to sit on the couch, grabbing onto one chip and dipping it into the Guacamole he prepared, taking it with one big bite. If there was something you really loved, it was Guacamole, because it was fresh, yet rich in flavor. It was perfect.
Eddie was biting his bottom lip as he saw your eyes close in delight and he almost choked on his saliva as a soft moan vibrated on your throat. He wasn’t ready for that. He really was not prepared for that sound. It caught him completely by surprise and now it was something he won’t be able to erase from his head anytime soon. 
“Good?” He asked and you opened your eyes to smile at him, still chewing on the chip, nodding your head excitedly. He chuckles at your response, happy with it, and heads over to grab some beers from the fridge, taking off the caps with a bottle opener that is magnetized to the fridge itself. He returned to you, sitting right beside you as he handed the bottle to you.
“Oh!” You hurriedly swallowed your chip as you raised the bottle to cheer. “I will cheer because today I was able to buy coffee from a shop that has a working… male barista.” You say proudly with a smile on your face and Eddie’s turns into shock, mouth falling agape at you.
“Seriously?” He asked and you smiled at him, nodding excitedly, repeating the same steps you did as when you told Robin about it. He was amazed by you, really, slowly becoming confident, in the way you talk, dress, and most importantly, you are confident in being yourself. You don’t change your way of speaking, or your topics, or what you like just to fit in. This is what mattered the most. “Well, fuck sweetheart, congratulations to that!” 
You both cheered with a clink of your bottles and instantly started to dig away onto the chips. Eddie was mesmerized at how you could work from home, because it would allow you to do many things whenever you have a few minutes to spare, and he was right. You often cleaned the house, or played on your Switch.
“Please tell me you play Mario Kart.” He said and you smirked at his words, finding out that he too owns a switch. So that was quickly plugged in, and the matches began, one after the other, Eddie choosing Mario, while you chose Peach. 
You won every game.
“This is rigged. It’s absolutely rigged.” He exclaims, putting his controller on the table with a loud thud as he sipped on his beer with an angry frown on his face, while you wore a wide smile on yours, putting the controller on the coffee table too. 
“I am just better than you in this.” You say cockily, catching him by surprise but it was indeed something you are confident in, so he will accept you being a brat for now. He sighed, shaking his head.
“I beat my brother every time, and he is like a major video game nerd. Always gets mad that this is something he can’t beat me at.” He laughs as he slumps back against the couch and you stare at him, deciding to take off your shoes, to be able to sit and turn to look at him, propping your feet up on the couch, right under you, almost in a kneeling position.
“You mentioned your brother before, also a Lord of the Rings fan.” You say to him and he chuckles, looking at you with a smile to his face. He made an ‘oh’ sound and moved slightly towards you to be able to pull the phone out of his back pocket. 
“A little shit I tell you.” He opened the gallery on his phone and went to look for the photos of last christmas. He found one and smiled as he looked at it, handing the phone to you.
You almost snorted your beer out of your nose as you held Eddie’s phone. Eddie was wearing the ugliest christmas sweater you had ever seen, in the color of greens and reds, reindeers all over it, while the guy next to him, with curly hair as well, but did not share any of Eddie’s facial features, wore a Rudolph sweater, and the nose was lit up. 
“Well, these are… some nice sweaters!” You choke out, and he took the phone back, laughing from your reaction as he put his phone onto the table again.
“Yeah, his mom bought them for us.” He replied and that caught your attention. His mom. Not their mom. He noticed how you tilted your head at the word and he straightened up, looking at you. “My parents have been gone since I was 10. My uncle Wayne took me in, and it was just the two of us, living in a small trailer in Hawkins. Poor man had to sleep on a pull out bed in the living room so I could have my own room.” He said with a soft chuckle as he looked at his rings, playing with them as a bit of nerves filled his voice.
Talking about his past was not something he ever liked doing, but in order to strengthen his relationship with you, he knew that this conversation was coming at some point. He was glad he had alcohol to do it, even if the story of his life didn’t end as tragically as he thought it would. 
“Bet he took good care of you.” You comment and Eddie simply nodded at that, a small smile appearing in his lips.
“Yeah, I was a son of a bitch though. In order for some bills to be paid, I sold drugs at school, you know just your friendly metal head weed dealer.” You looked down at that, not because of disappointment of him, but to know that he had it that rough in his teenage years was making your chest feel some kind of pressure that you were not enjoying. 
“Sometimes people have to do things in order to survive.” You said this time and he smiled, taking your soft gesture at not making a big deal out of his past. He looked up at you with a smile to his face now, almost excitedly.
“But, when I was at a gig, playing with my band, I invited my Uncle and he showed up with a lady friend called Claudia. After that, they started dating, and I met my step brother, Dustin.” He positioned himself to begin talking with his hands from the excitement he was feeling and you were mesmerized by how entranced you were with him. “I mean, he is a nerd! Like me! Star Wars, Lord of the rings, Star Trek, Lost, The Walking Dead… We became inseparable just like that.” 
You were smiling as you listened to him, he just seemed so happy about his family, about the person he is now, how despite it all he is still himself, not letting his circumstances change him or what he likes. 
“You were in a band?” You asked him and he nodded at you, a small glint of sadness shining in his eyes for a second.
“Yeah, as you can see, I play guitar.” He said to you and motioned to one corner, where one electric guitar stood, a red one, and then next to it was an acoustic one. You nodded with an ‘oh’. “Apart from your job, what do you do?” You turned to him and frowned slightly as you thought about that. 
You didn’t really have any hobbies, you just like to read, watch movies, play on your Switch every now and then, maybe baking sometimes when you feel inspired to do so, and now you feel a certain sense of embarrassment washing you over because of how boring you actually are. Think you are. You gazed down at your beer and fumbled with it with your fingers, clearing your throat.
“I– Uh… Don’t really do anything. I was as interesting as a slug, you know. Trying to just lay low, never really took an interest in anything.” Well that was depressing. Letting those words come out of your mouth, realizing that the person in front of you had a very exciting life, was slowly making you feel like curling into a ball and just staying there. Your brain was starting to work, and it began whispering things you didn’t want to hear, not with him.
‘You’re so boring, you should go.’
‘Why is he even friends with someone like you?’
“It’s okay to not have any interests. Better than having forced ones put on you.” You hear Eddie say as you look up to see him shooting a caring smile at you, your mind simply shutting off as you stared at him. “Steve for example, he was pushed to be captain of the Basketball team, Swimming Team, Soccer team… All because his parents wanted him to be the little star.” Eddie scoffed at that, shaking his head as he looked towards the living room.
“Really? And he didn’t want to do that?” You ask and Eddie simply laughs and shakes his head.
“Fuck no. Steve, believe it or not, fucking loves cooking. That guy can cook us a five star meal, out of thin air. He can make chicken nuggets taste like they were done by Gordon Ramsey himself.” You giggle at that, feeling your nerves slowly leaving your body as he talks to you.
“I have to try that, see if what you’re saying is true.” He laughs at that, and nods, taking a chip, dipping it into the Sour Cream and crunching on it. 
“Yeah, ‘nd Billy? Billy was an asshole to Steve and I in high school. Also pushed over by his father to be the best of the school. Worse than Steve.” His expression turned sour at that, his smile falling as he looked at his beer. “When Steve and I found him on the street, with a concussion in his head… I think that’s when we decided we would take Billy with us, out of Hawkins.” 
You were stunned to hear the story of these three men you met no more than a month ago, in the weirdest circumstance of all. You saw them almost naked, thinking that those three men would just be the snarkiest, or most flirtatious people you would ever meet, but there is always more under the skin, under the flesh, under any layer they had created to prevent from being hurt again.
“And… How did you… get the jobs you have now?” You asked him and he turned to you with a playful smile on his face. 
“The first time we stepped on Indianapolis we got drunk, and went straight to a strip club, a female strip club. We were amazed by the amount of money they were getting on their thongs, like, I’m talking about thousands! We just looked at eachother and wondered if we had the power to do something like that… Turns out, we did.” He took a sip of his beer and got up to go fetch two new bottles as you put your empty one on the coffee table, taking hold of a chip.
“So, it’s not like a job you regret having.” You say to him and you hear him chuckle as two caps clinked onto the counter. He walked back towards you, handing you your third bottle of the night as he sat back next to you.
“Nah. It’s still work, and it pays really well, and you can also meet the strangest, yet greatest of people there too.” He says clinking his bottle on yours and you feel a blush coming up to your cheeks at that, smiling softly at him. His eyes were fixed on you, as you smiled and took a sip out of your bottle.
You are peeling your layers, one by one, slowly but surely becoming the person you probably always wanted to be, letting yourself be happy, and this goes beyond the talking to men thing. This was you finally having some confidence in yourself. Believing that you dressed nice, that you did your make up right, that you did your hair with confidence and you felt pretty in all of it. 
Eddie was sure he was watching a butterfly coming out of their cocoon. 
He cleared his throat and your eyes focused on him again as he shook his head to drive his attention away from you, just for a second. You tilted your head as you waited for him to talk, and after an ‘ah’ from his part, which made you giggle, he continued.
“So, let’s tackle the next scenario… What do you do on a date?” He asks you and you immediately straighten up, noticing the slight happy dizziness the alcohol was doing in your brain but you were still very much conscious, but your blood flow was betraying you, making you blush all over.
“W-What do you mean?” You ask, actually wanting him to be more specific, and he maneuvered his body to sit while facing you, just like you were doing with him.
“Well, what do you talk about? Do you know how to make a move?” You were supposed to make moves yourself? You slowly shook your head at him and he sighed at you. “Well, for example, on a date, you talk about very superficial stuff. Work, movies, food, music. That’s really the basic stuff.” You were mentally taking notes of that with a nod to your head.
“So, no talks about… politics, family, religion?” You ask him and he laughs at you, his dimples dipping into his cheeks and you felt the burning on your ears again as you saw his smile while he shook his head.
“No. And nothing deep either… A little bit of what we just did now, but less intimate. I ask about your workplace, you ask about mine. You ask about my hobbies, I ask about yours. Keep it simple and short, maybe throw a little funny story here and there about stuff.” You raised your eyebrow at that, confused by what he might mean.
“A funny story?” You ask him and he nods at you.
“Like, for example, when I asked you about your friends and you told me about Robin and the Raccoon, which it’s still very funny to imagine it till this day.” He says with a chuckle and you follow him with a giggle, catching onto what he was saying. 
“Got it, funny works.” He nods at that, and you feel him getting closer to you.
“Alright, now… Normally, on dates, the men do not make any physical moves to show interest. That’s the lady’s job. If we are already engaging in a conversation with you, we are already interested, we are as simple as that… But a woman, you have to let us know you are interested, and that is all done with body language.” He finished and you were just blinking, almost wide eyed as he stared right back at you.
“B-Body language?” You ask him and he immediately laughs at your reaction, shaking his head.
“I’m not talking about pouncing on the guy. Look, I’m gonna touch you, okay?” He says this time and that for some reason sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt uncomfortable so you moved your legs a bit as he scooted closer. “Okay, so, one common move is laughing and placing your hand on the bicep.” 
“Oh, I’ve seen that in a movie! Wait, that actually works?” You ask tilting your head slightly and he smiles at you, nodding his head.
“Like a charm. You just–” He made a funny laugh, sort of a Santa Claus one, making you laugh as well as he moved back and then forward again, putting his hand on your left bicep, running his fingers down for just one second and pulling back again. You felt the area where he touched grow hot, and you bit your bottom lip at how easy he was making this look. “You touch for a second, do not linger more than that, because that would be too obvious, or too desperate.” 
“Oh? I mean, isn’t the whole idea of it for guys to know that I am interested though?” You asked and he nodded slightly to then shake his head afterwards.
“Yes and no. It’s confusing, but we do like a little bit of a chase. If we get it too easily, our interest kind of… fades away.” You grimaced at his words, showing him a look of slight disgust. 
“And you guys say we are the complicated ones.” You say, taking a sip of your beer and he widens his eyes, looking at you, putting his arm along the backrest of the couch, towards you. 
“Hey, we are very simple! In many, many aspects, sweetheart.” You were still facing him, biting onto the inside of your left cheek, trying to hide the smirk as you squinted at him.
“Like what? Throwing big rocks into a lake and rate the splash?” You ask as your left hand starts to slowly creep up on the back rest, without him noticing, a laugh vibrating in his throat at your words.
“Exactly, we just like a little bit of a struggle, that’s all. It makes the tension grow between you and your date.” He explained and your fingers found their way onto his right forearm which were still resting onto the backrest towards you. You hummed at that, taking a sip of your beer.
“But, wouldn’t you risk losing the date? What if you take too long and don’t give in in time?” You ask him as your fingers start to trace onto his bat tattoo, still looking at him. Your heart was beating with excitement as you saw him shiver slightly but was still not realizing you were touching him at all.
“We always give in, it’s at the third move that–'' He shivered again and his eyebrows knitted together as he felt the tingling sensation on his forearm. He looked at it and saw you passing your nails on his tattoos, and his belly twisted, simply and aggressively twisted. His intestines were knotting with each other and he was sure his brain short circuited. You were touching him. You were deliberately touching him, flirting with confidence, and you made sure he didn’t notice.
How long have you been touching him like that? And why does it feel so good when it’s just your nails brushing against his skin, tracing the drawings that were inked on him, and you weren’t even batting an eye at that. He slowly turned to look at you, and that’s when he saw your amused face, biting on your tongue as you smiled at him. A laugh started coming up on his throat, as his nerves flew away from his fingers.
“Shit, that was smooth Princess.” And to his dismay, you put your hand away, taking a sip of your beer. He was still staring at your movements, completely entranced. He was feeling his heart about to burst and he looked down at his beer, deciding this would be the last one for the night. Yep. It would be the last one.
“Thank you, I saw it on Friends.” You say with a wiggle of your eyebrows and he finally let out a cackle, amazed that you tried on a move from a tv show on him, and that it actually worked. He was slightly flustered and maybe that had to do with the alcohol in his system as well.
Your laughing slowly faded away as you looked down at your beer. The dread of the possibilities of what would happen after a move being made could trigger. Possibilities you weren’t sure if you’ve done right. Things you don’t know if you ever did, and what if it were done to you? 
“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours now?” Eddie asks, slightly worried at the change of expressions you just had. Were you regretting something? Maybe touching him? 
“What if it goes well?” Was your simple question. Eddie blinked at that, not fully understanding what you were asking.
“What if… what goes well?”
“I-I mean, what if– What if the date goes well? What if–” You were a blushing mess, almost sweating as you tried to word your thoughts out without sounding like a child, without sounding pathetic, looking everywhere but his face. But Eddie’s eyes softened, looking at you, seeing you stammer in your words, trying to let them out of your mouth with no luck, but he knew exactly what you wanted to ask.
“You mean if he kisses you?” Your breath caught in your throat at that and you hid your face into your hands in shame. You’ve kissed before, but was it ever good? Was it enjoyable? Did you do it right? Did they do it right? You knew you didn’t put much effort into them because you just weren’t attracted to the people you’ve kissed, you just wanted the experience to be over with, just like your virginity.
But kissing someone attractive, you’ve never done that.
“Yeah… I mean– I can do it but… I don’t know if I did it right…” You said almost in a whisper, ashamed of your words, of being 25 years old and still worry about your kissing skills. Voicing your worries to a man that’s done more kissing than you did in your whole life, much more, way more. Eddie frowned at your words, and shifted on his seat, raising his hand up to put it under your chin for you to look at him. You slowly locked eyes with his and the feel of his hand on your skin, just made your butterflies flutter all inside of your belly, your head getting lighter at the touch. He smiled gently at you, pulling his hand away.
“Sweets, one thing you have to understand is… Attractive people don’t have superpowers.” He says to you and you frowned at that in confusion, tilting your head to the side while looking at him.
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean, just because a person is hot, doesn’t mean they are experts at everything. You can find hot people that are lousy kissers, bad at flirting, horrible at sex, like, finish in two seconds and that’s that. Hot people that are assholes, like certified with a capital A… Just because you find someone attractive, doesn’t mean they have more experience than you, in any way.”
You drank in his words, processing them in your head. You never thought of it like that, not ever. You just thought that people that are attractive have more chances of experiences, and that leads them to have some practice. Eddie was looking at how you were absorbing that information, and he noticed how your shoulders lost their tension, slumping down a bit on your body.
He was feeling the buzz of the beer as he took a sip from it and put it on the coffee table, a warmth expanding on his body as he scooted just one jump closer to you, which made you look at him again.
“I’ll tell you a secret, and you won’t tell them I told you okay?” He starts and you nod slowly at that, straightening up once again to listen to him. He smiled at you and continued. “So, you saw Steve. Fucking handsome right? With that hair, the freckles, fucking lady killer.”
“Y-Yeah.” You nodded slightly at that, feeling the anxiety of admitting Steve was hot not as painful as it once would have been. 
“Yeah, he couldn’t kiss for shit.” Eddie says with a smile and your eyes widened at that, not believing what he was saying. A man like Steve? Not knowing how to kiss?! “You’re looking at me like I’m lying, but I swear I’m not. When we first started working at the club, and Steve kissed clients, they would complain to Joyce that he was too sloppy, too much saliva.”
“Oh god…” You giggle as you take a sip from your beer, wincing in disgust at the thought of a kiss with overloading saliva. Eddie laughed at that, nodding.
“Yep… He was so bummed out because he wanted to be one of the favorites and he knew that if he didn’t kiss he wasn’t going to get it. So… Billy helped.” You spat your drink away from Eddie at that and he started laughing hysterically at your reaction. Your eyes were almost bulging out of your sockets as you listened to that.
“Are you joking!?” He shakes his head at you, still laughing, his shoulders shaking up and down at the motion.
“Fuck no. Imagine my fucking shock when I came in here and I found them making out on the kitchen. It was traumatizing.” He says and your eyes were still like plates as you stared at him. “They aren’t dating if that’s what you are going yo ask, Steve is bisexual but Billy is straight. He just wanted to help Steve.” You blinked rapidly at that, and gave one nod, frowning at that. Friends helped eachother like that?
“So, that makes Billy a good kisser then.” You say and Eddie nods with a shrug.
“That must be, BUT, Billy was very forceful when handling the clients. Pulling their chairs, or turning them, or grabbing their shoulders. He really didn't know how to treat them.” He says and you tilted your head with a surprised ‘oh’ on your lips. Now what Eddie was saying about everyone, despite how they looked, had flaws was making more sense to you.
“So, Steve taught him to be gentle?” You asked and Eddie smirked, shaking his head and pointing at himself.
“Nope. That would be me. I taught him how to pull a chair with force but not a violent one, or how to grab a chin or a shoulder without digging his digits into the skin.” He explains and you were just staring at him, nodding at every word he was saying. You licked your lips as the nerves started forming a lump in your throat, looking down at your bottle of beer which was half empty by now.
“So, that would make you… Flawless?” You try to giggle and Eddie couldn’t help but feel his chest warm at your slight praise, but he was far from what you just said. He shook his head and smiled at you.
“Hell no… I couldn’t dance for shit.” He says to you and you raise your head up in complete surprise. “I didn’t know how to move my hips like Channing Tatum does, and Steve was the one to help with that. You might have noticed that night that out of the three of us, Steve is the one that moves the most.” You shook your head nervously at that, looking at the empty bowl of chips on the coffee table.
“That night is still kinda hazy, but I remember one thing or two.” You were sure you were a deep red now, remembering Steve on his knees as he prayed to Nancy, Billy’s hip grinding against Barb, and Eddie’s kiss and fingers down someone’s throat. 
“So, yeah, we all have flaws, and we all have experience and inexperience.” He finishes saying, looking up at the ceiling, not noticing how you put the beer on the table, sitting up straight now, not facing him, your feet back on the floor as you fumbled with your hands on your knees.
The knots in your belly now turned into painful vines, full of thorns as your body burned in anticipation. You knew this would cross a line, you knew this was a big step, and you knew this was not right, and for some reason, you knew this would be a mistake. 
But, there is also a part of you that knows you want this. And that part is winning over all of the other things that were stopping you.
“S-So… You guys helped each other.” You began talking and he shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling as he rested against the backrest of the couch.
“Yeah, cause we’re friends. It’s what friends do, have each other's back.” You nodded at that, slowly as you gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat and your feet turned cold.
“Friends…” You were almost breathing heavily, your nails digging onto your knees as your heart started beating into your ears, hearing every thump of it as it rapidly made your blood flow to every inch of your body. “A-And… We’re friends… right?”
Eddie’s eyes almost came out of his skull because of how wide he just stared at the ceiling. Were you actually asking him what he thought you were asking? Nah, it couldn’t be possible. It wasn’t real, right? He slowly looked down and you were already looking at him, jumping slightly as he locked eyes with you, making you flinch your gaze away in embarrassment.
He was still trying to understand that what you were asking was real. You wanted his help, but he was fighting with himself because he didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you for trusting him. He really didn’t want you to think that. But if you were the one asking… 
“Sweets, are you asking me what I think you are asking me?” He asks, and he wants verbal confirmation, even if it takes you an eternity to say it, he will wait. His chest was hurting from how fast his heart was beating into it, and he wanted to punch it to make it calm down. You were a friend asking for help, he has to get a hold of himself.
“I-It’s stupid, don’t worry, f-forget what I just said!” Your mind was telling you to run away. You crossed the line, you fucked it up. Why would he want to kiss you anyways? You weren’t anything special, just a friend, and he kissed beautiful women almost every night. You were inexperienced, and you would probably fuck it up, completely and he would laugh at you, or what if he winces in disgust at you? What if–
“Darling, darling, darling… Calm down.” You felt his hand on your knee and your eyes looked down to your lap, not realizing that your legs had been jumping up and down uncontrollably. Your breathing was slightly heavy as you shook your head still looking down.
“I-I shouldn’t have– I mean– We’re-We’re friends–” And Eddie wasn’t going to let you belittle yourself. He knew what was coming next, so he stopped your rambling with just his voice.
“Honey, I would be honored to help you with this.”
Your body froze all of its movements. Your legs, your quivering lips, the digging of your nails on your jeans, and even your heart steadied itself, almost non beating. His hand was still on your knee and you saw him pulling it back to himself as he waited for you to reincorporate yourself. 
Did he say honored? Why would he be honored? You have to stop thinking, you have to stop. You need to push the thoughts away, he said he will help you, it’s just that. Help. It doesn’t mean anything else, but a friend helping another friend. Nothing more. It’s nothing more.
You slowly turned your head to face him and he was wearing a soft encouraging smile as he looked at you. He wasn’t going to show his nervousness, and he didn’t even know what he was nervous about. He has kissed plenty of women in his lifetime, but you, for some reason, were making his knees tremble slightly, as well as feeling like bending over from the constant knot in his stomach.
“You okay?” He asked you and you were still looking at him, face red as you tried to mumble out words.
“Y-You’re sure you want to… kiss me?” You asked him and his eyebrows turned into a frown at your question. He knew there was more to it than simply asking him if he wanted to kiss a friend to help her. He knew there was something deeper behind those words, something darker.
“Darling, you’re fucking beautiful, I’d be more than honored to kiss you.” He said with a fist pump in the air to try to ease up the tense situation and it seems it worked, because you let out a soft huff, almost a giggle, and he saw your fingers no longer digging on your jeans. He took a deep breath in and positioned himself, sitting next to you, but facing you, crossed legs under him. “Okay, I need you to, first, let yourself go.”
He put his arms out and started shimming all over, just moving all his arms and body erratically as if trying to get a bug away from him. You laughed at his movements and sat in the same position, facing him and shaking yourself to lose the tension on your body, making him laugh at you, scanning you all over for a second as you joined him in the laughter.
This moment right here between you two, was too easy, too natural, and it felt as if it were right, and it had always been destiny that you two should meet. He was enjoying this moment with you, finally something different in his daily life. His calls with you, whenever you show him a new piece of clothing you got for yourself, and it wasn’t only with him.
Steve and Robin talked privately too, but it was as if they were soulmates, long lost souls that should have been together a long time ago. Platonically. He wondered if that was the same with you. If your relationship was platonic of some sort, only focused on it being friendship… And there’s another part of him that wished it wasn’t that.
“Right so… I’m going to start slow, okay? So first things first.” He grabbed your hand gently, pulling it up towards his lips to finally press them against your knuckles. You took a sharp intake of breath at that, feeling him against your skin in this way was something you were not really prepared for. You shivered at his touch, and you felt your belly just yearning for more, your mind no longer wanting to run away. He lingered his lips there, looking at your reaction until you met his eyes again and you took a deep breath in with a nod.
Eddie now knew you were okay with his touch, putting your hand down once again. He licked his lips in anticipation as he looked into your eyes who were looking at him with expectation, waiting for his next move. He raised his hand up towards your right cheek and leaned forward. Your breath completely stopped as you felt your stomach just contract on itself, shutting your eyes tightly and bracing for what he was going to do, until you felt his lips press gently onto your left cheek. 
It was burning your skin almost.
“No need to act so pained about it.” He let out a nervous chuckle out of his lips as he saw your scrunched up face. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you again, and dropping his hand down from your face. “Okay, now, I want you to reciprocate that. Kiss my cheek, I’ll close my eyes so you can be comfortable.” 
When Eddie closed his eyes, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He just looked way too beautiful, untouchable almost, tingles going from the bottom of your neck to the tip of your fingers. Your heart was painfully beating into your chest cavity as you slowly leaned in, keeping your eyes open just to not miss the spot on his left cheek. You had to press your hands on his knees to keep yourself stable as your lips inched closer to his skin.
You held your breath in as you finally pressed your flesh with his, yours soft, plump against a warm cheek that was tinting itself in a pink hue. You let the air leave your lung as you rapidly sat back in place, taking your hands away from his knees. He gulped heavily as he composed himself, opening his eyes to look at you. 
Your eyes were on your lap as you fumbled with your fingers, and he wanted to laugh, almost giggling he could say at how red you were looking. But he wasn’t going to do that, because you were doing good, great even, but now comes the difficult part, one of the few. 
“That was soft sweetheart, thank you.” You almost whined at the praise but because you just felt getting redder and redder from embarrassment and adrenaline. You slowly looked up at him, and you suddenly saw the hint of nervousness cross his features, making your eyebrows twitch in confusion. “Um… Now, I will give you a peck on the lips. You can close your eyes this time, and then I want you to give one back to me, that okay?” 
Oh, your breathing quickened at that. You clenched your fists tightly, closing your eyes as you nodded at him, barely, but he could figure it out. He raised a hand up, and he noticed the particular shakiness at the tip of his fingers, frowning at them because he never twitched. He never trembled. He never got nervous. He held onto your left cheek and you jumped slightly at the touch, not expecting it and you tightened your lips together. He chuckled with a shake of his head.
“Don’t tighten your lips. Relax angel, it’s just me.” He softly says and the way his voice sounds on your ears, make you actually slump a little bit, relax your muscles as well as your lips. He looked down at them, feeling his breathing quicken its pace, but he held those breaths in, trying to not show how he was feeling to you, which he didn’t even know what feelings he was feeling himself. 
He leaned down, pulling your face towards him, slowly and agonizingly. You wanted to open your eyes to see how far he was from you, as your belly just screamed at you to lean closer, but you stayed put. Waiting, and after what felt like ages, in the darkness behind your eyelids, you finally felt his lips connect with yours. A sharp intake of breath was taken on your part due to the shock, and also because of how surprisingly soft he was being. A soft subtle moan vibrated in your throat at the touch and he had to contain the urge to move his lips on yours, wanting to devour you. Your hands itched with the need of grabbing onto him, and it was shocking you because you never felt this. You never felt the need for more. 
Because that’s all you could think about now. More. You wanted more.
He pulled away from you, the peck being only for one or two seconds but to the two of you seemed like minutes. He opened his eyes at the same time you opened yours and he swears that he felt an electric shock run down his body as his pupils connected with yours. Your breaths were mixing with one another, because Eddie was still in your space, noses almost touching.
He pulled away from you, causing you to exhale a deep sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, and he dropped his hand from your cheek. He ignored the lingering burning sensation that was left on his palm as he gazed at you once again, a soft smile spreading on his lips.
“You okay?” He asked you and you could only nod. He chuckled at your reaction and scooted closer, now knees touching. “Alright, your turn.”
Fuck, that made all of your consciousness return to you in one big slap. It was your turn to kiss him. But you could do it right? It was just a peck, just a quick peck. You could do that, it was something fast, just like he did to you. You couldn’t feel your fingers as you raised your hand up to cup his left cheek. You scrunched your eyes closed and leaned in, quick, pulling him as well, but you felt him fight against your grip and you opened your eyes to see him squinting at you.
“What–”
“Slower. If you come at me that fast you are gonna knock our teeth out Angel. Just go slow, no need to be quick.” And there was a part of him that just said that to be able to be in this moment for a little longer. You felt embarrassed at his scolding and you wanted to pull away, feeling completely pathetic and childish for your actions. You took a deep breath in again as you continued to lean in, but this time slower, pulling him towards you in the same manner, gentler and he was content with that.
You closed your eyes when your lips brushed his, and he kept them open just before you pressed your lips to his to look at your face. You weren’t scrunching your eyebrows, or grimacing in pain or discomfort, so he knew you were okay right now. He closed his eyes after a second and you just wanted to stay there. Your lips on his, as your palm rested on his cheek, your nails wanting to dig in his flesh to pull him even closer.
You didn’t know if this would feel like this with every man you would kiss later on, you hoped it did. You hoped this wasn’t just happening with Eddie, because he is just a friend. That’s all he was. A friend helping another friend.
You pulled away after another second, dropping your hand from his face and this time you didn’t gaze towards your lap again. You kept staring at his face, waiting for his eyes to open, your chest now burning for the next move. 
His brown eyes connected with yours again, and he smiled reassuringly at you, as if telling you that you were doing good, that everything was fine, and that you were safe with him at this very moment. You took a deep breath in, giving him a small smile in return, feeling your cheeks aching thanks to the amount of blood that is pooled there.
“Alright… Next is the tricky part. I’m going to move my lips against yours this time. When I kiss your top lip, you kiss my bottom lip, and then the other way around.” You know how kissing works, you’re not an idiot. You have done it before just the way he describes it, but the question always lingered if you were any good at it. If you were too pushy, or too soft, or too slow, or too quick. 
You took a deep breath in to brace yourself, and exhaled, giving him a nod for him to continue. Now, Eddie was almost sweating. He didn’t want to feel that way towards you, but he was still a man, and you were beautiful. A very beautiful woman. So of course his body will react, he just has to remind himself that you are just a friend and that you need help. 
And he is just helping. 
He raised both of his hands up this time and your eyes almost went wide when he cupped your face in between them, getting a sense of feeling trapped but in a good way. The coldness of his rings and the warmth of his palms filled you with a sense of peace. You felt safe. You started hearing a buzz in your ears, knowing it was the intense flow of blood that was going all over your body, as the anxiety in your stomach was almost ripping its way out, wanting to break your skin, or wanting to crawl up into your throat. 
“Lean in with me sweetheart.” He commanded and your eyes were burning, your hands moving towards his knees again, trembling fingers finding the skin in the rips of them, your breathing hitching as you both moved towards one another, his fingers softly getting in between your hair, palms on your cheeks still and you closed your eyes.
He took a gulp, closing his eyes right after you, feeling your nails digging into the skin of his knees, softly scratching at him, almost desperately and he didn’t know if you were eager or nervous, but you were leaning in, and that was a good enough sign for him to press his lips against yours again, this time, with more pressure than before.
Your heart soared, beating wildly but not because of complete nervousness or because you wanted to run away from it, but because you were content. Content because you weren’t sweating out of a panic, content because you didn’t feel like fainting, content because the dizziness you were feeling was because of the rush, the adrenaline, the excitement of it all. 
His lips finally moved on yours, and you let your instincts kiss him back, following his lead. He was being gentle, slow, lips between lips and the smacking of them being heard all over the apartment. Your fingers were gripping on his knees as if your life depended on it, to keep you grounded to earth. There was a part of your brain that was telling you that friends shouldn’t do this, that friends do not kiss each other, not even for practice. 
But maybe those thoughts were wrong, because here you were, and Eddie’s self control was slipping. He wanted to move to the next step, but he wanted to properly warn you, he really wanted to, but with the way you were touching him, and the way you were tenderly moving your lips with his, was slowly but surely making him lose his composure of being a good friend. 
He had to be quick then, because you seemed into it, and if you stopped you might become nervous again and it will take more time for you to prepare yourself. He kept moving his lips on yours, your heads moving from side to side and you felt like you were being kissed like they do in the movies. Romantical and gentle. But something was slowly snapping inside of you, something that was clawing its way back in your throat.
More. You wanted more.
He pulled away but his hands were kept in place, his lips remained over yours as the heavy breathing of each other mixed in between you both. You opened your eyes to meet his, and he saw the hazy look in your eyes, the same look he must be having right now, and you might not even know how you are looking at him, but he knows how he is looking at you. And it was different, different than before. Way different.
“I’m gonna go further now, stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Before you could even formulate any sentence, think of anything at all, his lips crashed against yours, this time, more forcefully than before, and it shot another feeling inside of you. It was something you didn’t experience before, something that made you magnetized to him, and you cannot pinpoint what name to give it.
You moved your lips against his, following his movements, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip, gently, asking for entrance. This was the part where your inexperience might show, and you didn’t want to disappoint him, not when he was making you feel like this, not when he was the first person to kiss you like this.
You felt him rub your right cheek gently with his thumb, trying to soothe you down, telling you that you can still stop him. But you wanted anything but that. So despite your guts trying to make you bend over in pain, despite your brain throwing red signs all over to make you run away, and despite your heart beating so fast you were sure he would be able to hear it, you slowly opened your mouth, letting him in.
And he was so grateful for it.
His tongue slowly sneaked in between your lips, meeting with your nervous tongue. He moved, gentle and slow, small swirls which you danced with him harmoniously. He let out a huff of breath through his nose, trying to swallow a grunt because your hands had gone up to grip onto his thighs now, pulling yourself closer to him, and deeper into the kiss.
You were a good kisser, even in your nervousness, even if you told him you didn’t know if you were even doing it right, you smashed all of that in one second. One of his hands went deeper into your scalp, running his fingers through your hair as he felt the temperature of the room start to rise up. Your tongue was magical on him, so tender and delicate, yet he could hear the soft little moans that vibrated in your throat at every harsh movement he did on you. He could feel his pants starting to strain, and he cursed himself for being so easy to rile up, or maybe cursing at himself for wanting to–
The door opening caught both of your attention, your eyes widening as you both pulled away as quickly as you could. Panting heavily as you looked at one another, not even knowing for how long you have been making out with each other. It felt like seconds, but probably minutes had passed. 
“Well, shit, did we interrupt something?” Billy asks with Steve standing next to him with a bag over his shoulder. Your whole body turned red and you squealed as you hid your face in your hands, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. They saw you. They saw you kissing Eddie. Your friend. Oh god, what will they think? You thought you were an idiot, a very big idiot.
“I uh–” Eddie was at a loss of words and he looked at his friends. He knew you were feeling utterly embarrassed at this moment, so he knew he had to ease the situation up a bit. “We were practicing kissing.” 
And that made you even more embarrassed, your head shooting up to smack Eddie on the arm. Why would he tell them that?! Now they know you have no experience in that department and that Eddie was helping you gain confidence in it. Great. You shook your head, becoming more overwhelmed each second that passed.
“No need to hit me! You are a good kisser, despite what you thought.” Eddie brushed his arm as Billy and Steve walked over to the two of you. You groaned into your hands as you felt the heat of your face transfer onto your palms, and your guts were turning, the feeling of nausea slowly filling your stomach.
“Well, I bet it went better than with Harrington over here.” Billy glared at his friend as Steve blushed all over and pointed at you.
“Dude, she doesn’t need to know about that–”
“Actually…” Eddie begins with an innocent dimpled smile on his face and Steve became red in anger, ready to start going at his best friends but a giggle was heard in the room and they all turned to you.
You were laughing into your hands, and the situation that had mortified you now was making you laugh because of their bantering. They weren’t judging you, not you, nor Eddie because they had been through it. They helped each other out with things that were either weird or too bizarre, yet they did it because they’re friends. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” You say, as you raise your head up again, locking eyes with Eddie who had a playful glint in them and both of you laughed with each other, or at each other, you didn’t know, but just having this moment with him felt nice, it felt as if nothing had changed. No awkwardness, no weirdness, nothing that makes you feel uncomfortable, or him for that matter. 
He was still Eddie, and you were still you.
“Alright, hang on, I have a question.” Steve suddenly says, putting the bag with clothes down. He was still sweaty from work, his hair back with a small half ponytail. Eddie and you stopped laughing and looked at Steve to keep talking. “My question is, are you fine with kissing someone you trust, or are you fine with kissing men in general?” Your smile dropped at that, the thought being processed in your head.
You didn’t even think about that. What if kissing Eddie was easy, or kind of easy, because you trusted him? What if you were able to just because you can confide that part of yourself to him, because he is your friend? Will that happen with the men you meet?
“What Steve is trying to say is that when you go on a date, you don’t trust each other on the first one, but you might kiss, maybe something else.” He said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, earning a glare from Eddie’s part, and you gazed away from that dirty joke. 
Steve stood there for a second, thinking and then he took out his phone to open his music player and choose a song from there. ‘Stereo Love’ started sounding from the speakers and you winced at the nostalgia of the song, Eddie chuckling at it and Billy simply rolling his eyes. Steve puts the phone on the coffee table and urges you to get up from the couch. 
“Come on, let’s try something.” And you gave Eddie a confused look before doing as Steve says, following him to the middle of the living room as Billy took your place on the couch, dropping himself on it and grunting in relief. Eddie’s eyes were focused on you as you stood in front of Steve.
“Harrington, what are you–” Eddie tried to talk but he was stopped by one look from Steve. His chest was not liking where this was going but he remained quiet as Steve started swaying side to side.
“Okay, so, I imagine that you go to clubs, and guys approach you, right?” He asks and you look down, playing with your fingers as you talk back to him.
“The girls always pushed them away before they could talk to me.” You reply and Steve only scoffs at that and shakes his head. He dances all around you, on your side, behind you, on the other side, as he talks.
“Well, now you will let them talk to you. He is a complete stranger, just coming right up, dancing, and introducing himself.” He stops right in front of you, with a smirk to his face and your eyes slightly widened as his friendly expressions were exchanged by sultry ones. “Do you like this song?”
“Um, a little old but yes, I do.” You responded to him and he just kept the grin to his face as his movements started making him come closer, and closer to you.
“Hi, I’m Steve.” You were already blushing at the roleplaying but he was right, what will happen when you start trying to date someone? You won’t kiss them on the first date? You won’t show your attraction to them? You won’t make a move? 
“Hi, I’m Angel.” You reply with a small smile on your lips and Eddie’s eyes widened. You were flirting, and you were flirting with Steve with a pet name he gave you, and you only. He gulped heavily as you swayed closer to him.
“That’s a very pretty name, just as gorgeous as the bearer of it.” He winks at you and you almost lose your willpower at that. With Eddie was different, way different. It was a different type of nervousness, a different type of adrenaline, a different type of excitement. This was just nervousness.
So maybe, Steve was right. 
Before you could respond, Steve’s lips crashed onto yours, and Billy was studying your body language. You went rigid, frozen, eyes completely wide at the action. He could see the slight bit of paleness starting to drain your cheeks and he was about to call out Steve to pull away, but then your eyes closed, and your lips moved against his.
You noticed the difference with Eddie’s kiss. With Eddie’s, your mind shut off, didn’t even think about anything else and just let yourself feel, feel him, feel his lips on yours, his skin on yours. And now, Steve’s, you were conscious of how your lips were moving, and wondering if you were causing an impression or not.
Steve pulled away after a few seconds to study your face and do a whole check over, before cheering with delight and clapping for you with pride.
“You kissed me back, you didn’t faint, you flirted with me… Yep, you’re cured honey!” Steve says excitedly and you couldn’t help but feel excited with him. It was a big step, a huge change in your life. Even if the nerves were still there, the anxiety was still deep in your belly, and the thoughts sometimes appeared in your head to speak horrible things to you, you finally didn’t let them control your body.
You were finally cracking your shell open.
And as you cheered, you didn’t notice the pair of brown eyes that were looking at you.
“Munson… You’re going to break the cushion.” Billy says, without even looking at Eddie and the metal head looked down at the cushion of the couch, seeing his fist gripping tightly onto it, almost ripping through the fabric, his knuckles a bright shade of white from how hard he was clenching them, rings digging into his fingers. He also noticed the tense movements on his jaw and he realized that he had been clenching it tightly shut since Steve pressed his lips on yours.
Your lips that had his minutes before. Your tongue that danced with him, your body that touched him, his hands that were on you, your body heat invading his, and his jagged breaths invading your mouth. He had you first. 
You were his, first.
You turned to look at Eddie, with a smile on your face and he tried to return the smile to you, fighting the uncomfortable feeling that was happening in his belly, trying to push away all the negative thoughts, but then he remembered the look in your eyes just before he leaned in to kiss you again. He was looking at you in the exact same way, and hope rose in his chest, because the eyes you were looking at him with, were full of lust.
And you might not even know or realize you were looking at him like that. You probably never once felt lustful towards someone. You probably never had that need of wanting someone so badly that you might explode.
But Eddie, Eddie was feeling it right now. He was feeling it alright, and had been feeling it ever since he saw you in that tight purple dress. He felt it when you smiled at him for the first time on video camera. He felt it when you introduced him to your favorite pizza. He felt it when you beat him up in Mario Kart. He felt it when you had called him beautiful. And now, he felt it when he finally had a taste of you.
Oh how he wanted you. 
Eddie really, absolutely, desperately wanted you.
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End of part 4
A/N: I really do hope you all enjoyed this chapter, your comments always make me happy... we can all feel the tension building, can't we? Just a peek, next chapter will be spicy.
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you-call-it-a-dude · 18 days
Text
Call It What You Want Pt. 5
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4
Summary: it's thanksgiving break and you get to spend some time with Regina. She also meets your family, kinda. And she also comes out to her mom...kinda.
Pairings: Regina George x Fem/Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: internalized homophobia, mentions of sex, emotions and feelings
Notes: hi! So I know it's been a minute and I really appreciate everyone's patience and continued support with this story. Life just got ridiculous and this chapter is also slightly long lol. I have a bunch of requests that I am going to get started on with the intention of getting those out in the coming weeks. I think something I really struggle with is that I love writing longer stories which can put me behind and I think I need to start learning how to cut things short lol. But thank you so much again and I hope you enjoy.
-----
"Ugh, I don't want to go." Regina said, stomping around your room.
It was the morning of thanksgiving and Regina may have fibbed to her parents slightly. She told them her final day of classes was Wednesday and since she had a night class she would come out first thing Thursday morning to celebrate thanksgiving.
The fib, or well big fat lie, was that classes ended on Tuesday and Regina spent Tuesday afternoon through Thursday morning with you at your mom's house.
Your mom went to California to celebrate thanksgiving with your brother, so you both took advantage of the opportunity to have alone time in a space other than one of your dorm rooms.
It was really nice, honestly. You cooked dinner for her Tuesday night. She tried to help, but you both discovered that cooking possibly isn't something she was good at when she almost chopped her fingers off slicing bread for garlic bread.
She did provide plenty of support and some distractions through. Whispering flirty things in your ear and wrapping her arms around you while you cooked and plated your meals.
She did promise you that she can make really good breakfast. She ended up making you probably some of the best scrambled eggs you've ever had on Wednesday morning.
You spend Wednesday afternoon walking around downtown Chicago. Regina insisted on paying for Lyfts for the rest of the day because she just straight up refused to take the train downtown and you refused to drive because trying to find parking down there was a fucking hassle.
You looked at the lit up Christmas tree, took her to the water tower mall to shop, and then she treated you to lunch at this really nice place that you probably couldn't afford on a good day, but you still tried to pay her back anyway. She obviously refused.
You came back to your house and you showered together in your huge walk-in shower.
Which, arguably felt like one of the most intimate moments you've shared so far.
You both laughed and bickered your way through the shower. Someone was always hogging the water for too long, or spraying water in someone's face, and you judged the ridiculous amount of conditioner Regina used in her hair and she gave a long spiel about why that was the necessity amount for her.
But it was perfect because none of it was serious. It was all playful and lighthearted and it made you sad that you didn't have any idea of when you would be able to share another moment like this with her again.
You dried off after the shower, both walking around the house in some sort of state of undress. Regina only in your t-shirt and a pair of underwear and you in a pair of boxers and a tank top.
You watched her do her hair and skincare routine, asking her questions about her expensive products that you had never seen before in your life.
She was patient with you, answering all your questions about her stuff. After she finished, she made you sit on the bathroom counter. She pushed your hair back with one of her microfiber headbands, choosing one that had a bow on it and scrunching her nose up at you and calling you cute after she slipped it on you. She rubbed some of her $500 moisturizer on your face, massaging it into your skin and giving you sweet compliments. She finished off your little face massage with a quick kiss to your lips.
She cleaned her hands off and asked you if you felt any difference between your stuff and hers. You nodded, trying not to let on how fancy you felt with this stuff on your face.
You spent Wednesday evening cuddled up on the couch watching 2000s rom-com movies that she deemed absolutely necessary for you to watch.
You wouldn't tell her how much you enjoyed the movies though. You put up too much of a fight to admit you enjoyed them all.
Wednesday night after the movies was spent in your bed. It consisted of sloppy kisses, your head between Regina's legs, and her nails scraping across your back.
It was hot and sexy in the moment, but in her post orgasm clarity, she realized how badly she scratched you up when she saw bruises forming around the scratches and one of them was bleeding.
She swore loudly when she saw them, clearly torn between being concerned and turned on. She made you sit at the edge of your bed while she cleaned them, pressing soft kisses to your back while she did.
You didn't care that she marked you. You wanted people to know you were hers and you'd be happy to let her do it again. You kinda hoped that she would.
The following morning, Regina stomped around the room, packing her bags with an annoyed pout on her face and complaining about how much she didn't want to go back to her parents' house for the holiday.
"Well, you are always welcome to spend it with me. I'll be at my dad and step mom's." You offered.
She paused, thinking it over seriously.
"Ugh, no. I can't. My dad will get so mad." She threw one of your shirts into her bag and you shook your head at her blatant thievery.
"You can come for dessert? Maybe you can even come back here with me after...?" You suggest and she smirked.
"So what you're saying is, you'll need me to bring you back here and that I can't stay with my family? Oooh, maybe I can use you as an excuse."
"Sure, make them hate me before they even meet me." You tease, scrunching your nose at her.
"I'm just saying! I can tell them we travelled together and we need to travel back together."
"You know you're an adult, right?" You point out. "If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."
"It's more complicated than that." She rolled her eyes, catching an attitude with you now.
"Don't get grumpy with me." You say firmly with your eyebrows furrowed and somehow she manages to roll her eyes even harder at you. "Look, if you have to stay then stay. I get it. I'm just letting you know you're invited to my dad's and you're welcome to spend the rest of your break here with me. Okay? No need to get mad at me about it."
"Okay, yeah. Fine."
"Okay, yeah. Fine." You mock playfully, making a face at her and putting your hands on her hips.
"I fucking hate when you do that mocking shit. Grow up." She said, putting all her hygiene products in her bag and shifting her hips out of your grip.
"Good grief. Are you gonna get all closed off and homophobic on me now because you have to spend time with your family?" You say boldly, crossing your arms. She whips her head around to look at you, narrowing her eyes. You swallow thickly and ignore the tingling sensation that look sent between your thighs and focus more on the fact at how mad she looked right now. "S-sorry. I'm sorry. I was just joking, but I am now recognizing I shouldn't have said that." You say quickly, but sincerely.
You really needed to learn that some of your little jokey jokes that may bode over well with your gay friends, might hit a sore spot for your very much closeted girlfriend.
"No, I-you're right. I'm kind of just having a really hard time." She admitted, her tone softening.
"With what, baby?" I ask, brushing some hair behind her ear.
"I don't know. I want to talk about you to my family, you know? I feel like my mom would really like you. I want to tell her so bad, but I'm scared she'll tell my dad."
"You think she would do that?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.
"I don't know. Maybe? She's also just so bad at keeping other people's secrets."
"You don't think she'd keep this one for you? Or that she'd be happy you told her?"
"I don-" she just shrugs, looking up to most likely stop herself from crying. "Part of me thinks she'd be really cool about it. But it's that little sliver of doubt that makes me too scared to say anything."
"Well, if you aren't feeling it, you aren't feeling it. You don't have to come out to anyone if it doesn't feel right. I'm not rushing you." You pat her hip reassuringly and give her a playful pinch. "The offer I made earlier still stands. Dont feel pressured to take me up on it, but it's there if you want it. All you have to do is tell me, okay?"
She just nodded and continued packing her bag. You know she's upset and probably not in the mood for any bullshit, so you kiss her shoulder and walk out of your bedroom to give her some space for a few minutes.
You get a drink from the fridge, fighting the urge to eat something because it's basically against the law to eat anything on thanksgiving before the meal.
She stepped out of your room a few minutes later, her bag over her arm and her sunglasses on. You pout slightly. You knew she was leaving because she had to get ready at her house, but it didn't make you any less sad to see her go.
"Let me know when you get there, please?" You ask, stepping towards her and planting a soft kiss on her lips. She nods and leans in, pulling you in for a deeper one.
"I love you." She mumbles against your lips before deepening the kiss again. You smile against her lips and kiss her once more before pulling away.
"I love you, too." You take her bag from her shoulder and throw it over your own. "Let me walk you to your car."
---
You haven't heard from Regina in a few hours now. She let you know what she made it home and sent you a few provocative photos of her getting ready, but otherwise you haven't heard from her since then.
It was almost 4pm and you've been at your dad's for maybe an hour now. Your step-mom's family were also present and they were okay people, but you didn't really know them.
You also didn't know they were coming. Your dad pulled you aside when you came into the house and said it was very last minute and he was upset by it. Not your business, but go off, dad.
You snatched your little sister up from your step-mom and followed your little brother up to their playroom. Too many people you didn't know were asking about what you were doing with your life, who you were dating, what you were studying. You've met these people like four times total.
You released Zoe and let her crawl around with Levi. You sat on the floor against the wall and let them both bring you toys and random shit they wanted you to see or hold. You play wrestled, let them climb on top of you, all around earning big sibling points you hoped.
You took a selfie of you with Levi climbing on your shoulders and Zoe sitting on your lap. It was blurry and all three of you were smiling and laughing in the photo.
Levi requested to see the picture of course, like any curious toddler would. Zoe didn't care, but she looked anyway because her big siblings were.
You sent the photo to Regina, expecting it to go unanswered like your previous messages the last few hours.
'I wish I was there with you'
She responded within about a minute. You frowned reading the message.
'Everything okay?' You respond, unsure if she'll even text back that quickly again. The little bubble with the three dots pops up immediately.
'Yes and no. It's fine.'
You were in the middle of typing up a response when she sends you another message.
'Can I still come over?'
You delete the message you were in the middle of writing to type up a new one.
'To my mom's for the rest of break? Or to my dad's for dessert?'
'Both. I don't want to be in this fucking house any longer than I need to be. I'm an adult, right???'
You smiled and rolled your eyes at her response.
'Yes, of course can. Dessert will probably be around 7. That work?'
She didn't text back, but she responded to your message with a heart so you knew it was most likely fine. You sent her your location so she knew where to go and continued to play with your siblings that had been all but demanding your attention while you responded to Regina.
"Alright, alright." You say, dodging a block that Levi was about two centimeters from smacking you in the face with. "Relax, you little monster." You tease, tickling his little belly and making him break out into a fit of giggles. Zoe looked up at you like she was being left out and you tickled her also, making her laugh.
There was a light knock on the door frame and you looked up to see your dad coming in with a small plate of appetizers, two sippy cups with water for the kids, and then a bottle of water for you.
"It sounded pretty rowdy up here, thought my babies could use some refreshments." He handed Levi his sippy cup and sat down on the floor across from you with his legs crossed.
You rolled your eyes slightly at him still calling you his baby, but you also still found it really cute and wouldn't dare make a comment about it.
Zoe was resting comfortably on your lap and he handed her the drink before giving you your water bottle and holding out the plate of snacks for you to pick off of, stealing a mini quiche for himself in the process of course.
You took a big sip of your water, not even realizing how thirsty you had gotten. You closed the bottle and set it to the side, taking the plate from him and eating the last mini quiche before it got stolen from under you.
"How's it going down there?" You ask him with your mouth a little full, covering it with one of your hands to be not gross.
"It goes, bud. They get on my nerves. What can I say?" He chuckled. "You talk to your mom today?"
"I called her but she didn't answer. Probably too busy with Ricky. You know how it goes." You shrug, sharing a small piece of mozzarella with Zoe that came from one of the mini caprese skewers, smiling at her when she said 'mmm!' "Is that yummy??" You ask her with a smile and she grins up at you while chewing.
"I love when you come by, kiddo. I know these terrors do, too." He said sincerely, ignoring the fact that Levi was wacking his back with a foam sword now and laughing like a maniac.
"Hey, dad, can I ask you something?"
"Of course!" He said, reaching his arm back and snatching that foam sword from Levi. It made the toddler giggle and run off, thinking he was about to get chased.
"Is it okay if my girlfriend comes over for dessert?" Your dad knew you liked girls, but you had never introduced him to any of your past partners before. He waved to Regina that day after the party when she brought you back to get your clothes and she waved back, but that was about it. You don't even think he saw her face.
He perked up and smiled at you.
"Girlfriend?? Of course! That's so exciting, Y/N!" He have your knee a nudge. "Tell me about her."
"Well, her name is Regina. We went to high school together. We didn't really talk much then, but we ended up being neighbors in our dorm and it just worked out." You say with a wide smile on your face. "But, um, she isn't out. To like anyone really, but especially her family. So I don't know how comfortable she would having people know, but I also wanted at least you to know that she was my girlfriend if I was going to invite her." You were nervous and rambling and you really hoped he understood what you were saying.
He nods his head and looks at you slightly concerned.
"I get what you're saying. Unless you indicate in any way that she's comfortable, we don't address it." He says sincerely. "Are you sure you're okay with dating someone like this?" He asks. You know he's coming from a good place, but you hate that people keep asking you this.
"I mean, she won't be in the closet forever." I shrug, picking a piece of lint off Zoe's outfit. "It'll be okay, dad. And if it's not, then at least I gave her a good first experience, right?" You give him a reassuring smile and he reaches over to brush hair from your face.
"I'm glad you turned out to be such a good kid. I know you dealt with a lot of shit as a kid, but you didn't let it ruin you. She can definitely come. I'm excited to meet her." He gave you a genuine smile.
The four of you turned your heads when you heard footsteps approaching. Your step mom, Ginny, came into the room looking exasperated and closed to door behind her softly.
"God, I hate the holidays sometimes." She said, plopping down on one of the rockers in the playroom. "They're driving me nuts. How have things been up here? It got quiet so I came to check on everyone- hi munchkin!" She reached for Zoe who all but launched herself off your lap to crawl to her mom.
You took advantage of your newfound hand freedom and grabbed that plate of appetizers you had set down. Though your freedom was short lived because within about ten seconds Levi threw himself onto your lap and almost sent your plate of appetizers flying.
You set your plate on the floor again and wrapped an arm around his tummy, offering him a pita bread with hummus that he happily accepted.
"Hey, Ginny?"
"Yes, hun?"
"Is it okay with you if I have someone join us for dessert? Dad said yes, but it's your house, too." She smiles at you and nods immediately.
"Of course, Y/N! We have plenty of dessert and I think you need someone your own age to enjoy the rest of the night with, too."
"Psh, I don't know what you mean. I am having so much fun with these two. Couldn't ask for a better holiday." You say truthfully, giving Levi's leg a playful pinch and making him laugh.
"So is this a friend or...?" Ginny asks with a small smirk and you can't help but smile wide. "Ah! I knew it! I knew it!" She said excitedly,
Ginny was about ten years younger than your dad. Smack dab right in the middle between your age and his. She's great and you really do love her. She's been around for many years now at this point and knows you just as much, if not more than your own mom.
"She's my girlfriend." You admit, blushing slightly. "But she isn't out yet, especially to her parents. I don't know how comfortable she's gonna-"
"Say less. I know exactly what you mean. We've got you. If that changes at any point, please tell us. Cause we would love to treat her like your girlfriend if we can. This will definitely stay between us though."
You smiled at her and the three of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. You were watching the kids play and listening to the commotion that Ginny's family was stirring up downstairs.
At some point her mom shouted up the stairs obnoxiously for her that timers were going off and food needed to be pulled out and you all knew your peaceful moment was over.
Your dad and Ginny went downstairs to pull the food and turkey from the oven and you were asked politely if you could please do diaper checks on both of the kids before bringing them down.
Which, honestly, that seemed way better than walking into that mess downstairs.
---
Dinner was a little more chaotic than you were used to, but it wasn't totally unbearable. Ginny's parents, aunt and uncle cleared out so they could spend dessert with her cousin and his wife. They complained the whole night about how his wife was more of a baker than a chef.
So apparently that was the reason they sprung this last minute self invite to dinner on them.
Ginny's sister stuck around though, most likely to talk mad shit over a slice a pie and a glass of wine. Which, so valid.
Regina messaged you around 6:30pm that she was ten minutes away and you could feel yourself getting really nervous all of a sudden.
Cause of the whole never bringing anyone home before thing.
She texts you when she's here and asks you to come to her car. You look at the message confused, but excuse yourself from the house and run outside.
She's sitting in her black Volvo, which is surprising to you since she's back home in Evanston. You walk up to her car and open the drivers side door and see her sitting looking...nervous?
"Hey, baby." You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a quick hug. "Everything okay?" You ask, sounding concerned.
"I think I almost came out to my mom." She said, rubbing her hands against her thighs anxiously.
"Almost?" You ask, cocking your head to the side.
"I was in the middle of doing it and my dad came in and I just stopped talking."
You give her a sad smile and squeeze her shoulder.
"I'm so sorry. How do you feel about almost doing it?" You ask, dancing on your toes because you were starting to get cold. "What was the conversation?"
"I was asking her if I could leave and spend the rest of break with a friend. I didn't just want to be cruel and just leave." She was playing with her steering wheel cover. "I could tell she looked kind of upset, but she said it was fine and that she hoped I had fun. I felt bad. Like really bad. So I told her I was spending it with someone I was dating. She just looked so excited." She shook her head and buried her face in her hands and letting out a muffled, dramatic scream into her hands. She looked up again with a straight face. "Then she said tell her about him and I just didn't want to lie. I just felt in that moment I could trust her. All I was able to say was 'well it's not a guy' before my dad busted into the kitchen."
"And then what?"
"I left to come here." She shrugged.
"Babe, you definitely came out to her. You just didn't talk about it after." You say with an awkward chuckle.
"No," she shook her head. "I didn't come out. I didn't tell her enough. She's too goofy to have picked up what I meant." She said, seemingly trying to convince herself.
"Okay, you didn't come out." You affirm, but her phone lighting up over and over in the cup holder of her center console is having you believe that her mom might not be as goofy as she thinks. But you also know Regina can ignore messages like nobody's business when she wants to, so part of you also has a feeling Regina knows that her mom knows, too. "Are you gonna check those...?" You ask cautiously.
"No, I'm not and I think you should mind your fucking business." She said simply while she fixed her makeup.
"Don't start, please." You say softly and you see her tense briefly before relaxing.
"You're right. I'm sorry." She swallows and nods, looking up at you with a pout, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm really sorry." You furrow your eyebrows and cock your head to the side confused, waiting for her to continue. "I don't think I should go inside."
She said it barely above a whisper, but it still felt so fucking loud.
"Don't do this, Regina." You say, shaking your head. "Just come inside." You say calmly.
You can hear what your dad said earlier replaying in your head, about if you were sure you wanted to do this with someone who wasn't out yet and you hated that Regina was sitting here in front of you proving him right.
"I don't-" She just shrugged, looking at you with those sad fucking eyes.
"Look, I know you're scared and it freaks you out. I'm not trying to rush you." You cup her cheek, rubbing your thumb along her cheekbone. "But please just trust me and come inside. If you really hate it, I'll let you leave." You say softly. Your heart was pounding and you swear your hands were shaking.
Shit, you weren't even fucking cold anymore.
Regina was unpredictable and the possibility that she could flee at any moment was always at the back of your mind. Anytime something regarding her sexuality and coming out got involved, you always felt like you were teetering between her fully accepting herself or absolutely destroying you.
She gripped her steering wheel, staring straight ahead. You could tell by the way she was breathing that she was anxious and thinking about what to do.
You wonder if the only reason she hasn't just driven off yet was because you were standing in front of her open car door.
She chewed her top lip, trying to control her breathing through her nose and she nodded slightly. Her thumbs ran across her textured steering wheel cover and she nodded again, this time more confidently.
Like, you could actually tell she was nodding.
"Okay, okay, yeah." She licks her lips and swallows, continuing to nod.
You can tell she's still trying to convince herself, but she said it out loud and that works for now.
"They don't even have to know you're my girlfriend. You can just be my friend." You reassure her and you can visibly see her relax a bit.
She takes a deep breath and pulls her visor down and fixes herself in the mirror again. She slams it up when she's done and within seconds she's moving to get out of the car. The attitude and anxiety gone from her face as if it were never there and you frown at the thought of how good Regina has become playing this version of herself.
She grabbed her phone and her purse, closing and locking her car door and shoving her keys into her bag. She adjusted her outfit nervously and looked over to you.
"Do I look okay?"
"You look so beautiful." You smile, staring at her like she was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.
Well, she was.
She nods and follows you up the rest of the driveway, gripping the back of your shirt until you open the front door.
You walk inside and shut the door behind you both. You take her jacket off and hang it up. You hear some noise coming from the kitchen so you make your way over there first.
Your dad is pulling an assortment of pies from the fridge, Zoe crawling around his feet and him avoiding stepping on her expertly.
"Hey, dad?" You called to him softly when you entered the kitchen to get his attention. He looked up at the both of you and smiled.
"Hey, kiddos."
"This is my friend, Regina." You introduced and you could see the faintest glimmer of sadness on his face before he smiled wide and wiped some whipped cream off his hands on the apron he was wearing.
"So nice to meet you, Regina, Y/N's friend." He said, his hand extended out and stepping over Zoe. "I'm Greg, Y/N's dad."
Regina met him halfway and shook his hand firmly, smiling wide while she did it.
"It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for letting me join you so last minute."
"Oh nonsense!" He let go of her hand and waved her off playfully. "We are so happy to have you here." He turned to look to you now. "Y/N, you want to bring Zoe and Regina to the dining room and introduce her to everyone else? I'll handle the pies."
"Sure, dad." You squat on the floor with your arms out. "ZoZo, let's go." She smiles and crawls to you, her hands and knees smacking against the tile floor. You pick her up and toss her slightly, seeing Regina's eyes widen slightly when you catch her and prop her on your hip. "Say hi, Zoe!" You bounced her on your hip in Regina's direction.
"Hi Zoe!" Regina lit up, smiling at her in a way you had never seen before. Zoe looked up at her, taking her in and studying her. She decided after about ten seconds that Regina was a friendly and giggled, throwing herself back in your arms.
She reached a curious hand out to Regina, most likely wanting to get her grubby paws on her earrings but the blonde knew better than to give her access to those. Instead she gave her one of her hands, letting Zoe investigate her painted nails, her rings, and her bracelets.
You could hear your dad shuffling in the kitchen behind you so you knew you had to get out of the way. You pointed your head in the direction of the dining room and began walking. You were essentially pulling Regina along because Zoe was showing zero interest in letting her go.
You walk into the dining room where Ginny, her sister Lucy, and Levi were setting up plates and silverware for dessert.
You introduced Regina to everyone and when she tried to move to shake everyone's hand, Zoe began the makings of a temper tantrum and she stayed put out of panic.
Regina apologized and thanked Ginny for having her and you took this opportunity to hand Zoe to Regina while she was distracted with talking. Zoe went with her willingly, resting her head on Regina's shoulder and fiddling with her rings.
It made your heart want to explode honestly with how cute it was.
Everyone in the room laughed and Ginny made a comment about how it looked like Regina found a friend and she was happy to have her here.
Ginny told you both to take a seat and you pulled out a chair for Regina and Zoe, helping push it in for her.
You pulled out the seat to her right for yourself, but Levi took it upon himself to slide into the seat instead and investigate this new person that both of his siblings are giving attention to.
"Levi, you butt." You say, rolling your eyes and pushing his chair in and taking the seat to Levi's right. He fully ignored you and turned his attention to Regina.
"Hi, look at my dinosaurs." He told her, pulling out three little dinosaurs from his corduroy pants and setting them on the table between them.
"I love dinosaurs." She tells him. "Do you know which dinosaurs those are?" He nods excitedly and sits on his knees, naming them out excitedly and giving her a fun fact about each of them. "See, I didn't know that about any of them. You taught me something new today." She smiled at him and he was practically vibrating with excitement.
He was ready to hop of his chair and get his dinosaur book, but Ginny told him to park it or no dessert.
He started asking her other questions; her favorite animal, her favorite planet, her favorite reptile. She answered all of his silly questions like they were the most important thing in the world to her right now and you swear you could feel yourself somehow falling even more in love with her.
Your dad served the pies, giving everyone small slices of each one to sample (there were four). When he handed you a plate to pass to Regina, he gave you a look and you know it meant that he liked her.
"Y/N, let your friend eat her pie in peace and take the baby from her." He said, after he handed you her plate.
"I was already planning on it, dad." You took the plate and stood up, setting it in front of Regina and snatching Zoe up while she was distracted by the pie. Regina chuckled and Zoe threw herself back in your arms in protest of being taken away from her new friend.
Lucy said she would take her, so you handed her over to her, but her protest turned into a meltdown so she went with Ginny instead who bribed her with pie.
There was quiet conversation over dessert. Your dad and Ginny asked Regina a few questions about herself, but nothing too crazy. How she's liking college, if she's decided on her major yet, and if she did any school activities.
Your dad was very excited to find out she played soccer. They talked about that briefly before moving on to essentially talk shit about Ginny's family.
You and Regina listened in silence, stealing glances and smiles at each other while you both enjoyed your dessert.
Once Levi was done being distracted with his own dessert, he became more talkative and more demanding of both yours and Regina's attention.
Part of you was worried that Regina was going to get annoyed. If she did, she didn't show it. She was entertaining all of Levi's silly questions, laughing at his jokes, and asking questions back to him and listening intently to his answers.
Once dessert was wrapped up, the kids were hyped up on sugar and overtired so you took that as your cue to dip out.
You both said your goodbyes. Your family hugging Regina as if they didn't just meet her a little over an hour ago.
You followed your dad into the kitchen so he could give you leftovers, packing you enough for the two of you since you told him Regina was most likely going to be going back to your mom's with you.
When you came back to the front door with your bag of leftovers, Regina had her jacket on with Levi in her arms and they were making silly faces at each other.
"Ready?" You ask with a smile. Regina nods and sets Levi down and he clings to her leg immediately.
"Can I come?"
"Not this time, hun." Ginny steps in, picking him up to avoid making it awkward for anyone. He crosses his arms and pouts. "They'll just have to come back soon." She smiles and gives him an encouraging jostle.
"Definitely, Levi. We'll be back soon." You pinch his cheek. He perks up and you know he's gonna hold you to that.
You put your own coat on and say one final goodbye before exiting the house. As soon as the door is shut, Regina links your arms together and you both start walking down the driveway.
"They knew, didn't they?" She said with a slight laugh.
"Was their acting that bad?" You ask, turning to look at her to try and gauge her reaction. She was smiling, so at least you knew she wasn't mad.
"No, they were good. They were great." She said, pulling you closer to her. "I saw the look your dad gave you when he was giving you the pie. Your dad also might've overemphasized that I was your friend just a touch." She laughed lightly.
"He tried so hard." You laugh. "I think he was just excited, but also wanted to be respectful of you."
"Excited?" She asked, pulling her keys out of her purse.
"You're the first partner I've had that he's met, technically." You explained, pulling your own keys from your coat pocket.
"I'm really sorry. I feel like I ruined that experience for you." She stopped in front of her car, turning to look at you with soft eyes. She wrapped an arm around your waist.
"No," you say softly, shaking your head. "I wouldn't have had it any other way. It was perfect. You were perfect. Did you have an okay time?" You hold her arm, pulling her closer to you and she leans into you.
"More than okay." She nods, fighting off a smile. "I love you." She whispers, leaning in and kissing you softly.
"I love you, too." You say when she pulls away. "Thank you for coming tonight." You nudge your nose against hers and she smiles.
"I'm glad I did." She presses her forehead against yours before pulling away. "It's fucking cold." She unlocks her car and you open the door for her. You rest your arm on the roof of her car, poking your head into the car slightly.
"I have a nice warm bed and some leftovers with our names on it." You sing, holding up the bag of leftovers.
"Well, fuck, why are you just standing around then?" She laughs, rolling her eyes at you playfully.
"Don't get upset with me, but you know you're gonna have to talk to your mom, right?"
"No, I know." She says softly, nodding in agreement. "I'm gonna call her. I just want to enjoy the rest of tonight with you."
"Okay." You nod, pushing some hair behind her ear. "Follow me back, then?" You say, stepping away from her car. She turns on her car and rolls her window down as you close her door.
"I'll be right on your ass, babe."
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luveline · 1 year
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).
7k words, new established relationship to established relationship, lots of fluff and some small angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, calls him aaron, basically hotch treating you well
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1. Soup. 
"Are you hungry?" Aaron asks, hands at the neck of his shirt as he loosens his tie. 
You've never seen him do that. It's a lot to take in.
"A little, are you?"  He's lucky that you remember to answer.
His smile lights you up inside and out, a warm, casual quirk. "Famished." 
"Should we make something?" 
He turns from the doorway and moves into the kitchen. You have to twist on his couch to see his movements. 
"No need. I should've asked if you like it, but I made vegetable soup. The kind with mini dumplings." 
You look down at your legs and squeeze your thighs together until your knees tap. You're too shy to go and meet him where he's standing, but perhaps sitting and having him wait on you is arrogant. And awkward. 
The couch is plush under your hands as you stand. You'd slipped off your shoes at the door, and your socked-feet slide over the tiled floor of the kitchen as you make your way to his side. Aaron lights the stove, atop which stands a tall cooking pot. 
"When did you have time to make that?" you ask, soft with awe. 
"I knew you'd be coming over. I started it this morning." 
"And if I didn't like it?" 
He turns his gaze to yours, pot lid held aloft. "Then I would've ordered in for us. You're sure this is okay?"  
You've never had somebody cook for you before. Homemade, fresh ingredients, and the intricacy of the dumplings too, it all impresses and amazes you. You feel very special. Like you're worth all the effort. 
"I'm sure. More sure if you let me try it." 
His laugh startles you for its rarity. "Okay. It's not done," he warns. 
"Just to taste it." 
He stirs the warming soup with a big spoon for half a minute, the heat on high, before scooping up some broth and holding it above a cupped palm. "It's probably not very hot," he says. 
Oh, you think, excited and sick with nerves at once. He's going to feed the soup to me. 
Something out of a movie, something you didn't know people actually did for their significant others, Aaron waits for you to open your mouth and offers the spoon. You slurp and feel heat rise to your cheeks at the clumsy sound. 
"Aaron," you say, soft and obsessed after you've swallowed, "it's really nice. You made that yourself?"  
"I can cook," he says defensively. 
You lick your lips, giggling. "I can tell. That was really good. Though it was definitely too cold." 
"Mm. It has to cook through some more. Reduce. Do you want to shower?" He puts down his wooden spoon, head tilting to one side gently. He assesses your expression, and brings a curved hand to settle over your cheek. The tip of his index finger kisses the delicate skin under your eye. "No, maybe not. You look tired." 
You probably shouldn't say something like that to your brand new girlfriend (you scream internally at the word, every single time since he asked you a week ago) but Aaron speaks factually. You don't think for a second that there's any malice there, any hidden critique. His words shine with concern. 
"It's Friday. I'm always tired at the end of the week." 
His hand falls to your shoulder. "I can imagine." 
"You can go shower, if you like. I'll watch the soup." 
"I need one, huh?" 
He must know how well-kept he looks even now. You're not sure you've ever seen him dishevelled. 
"Definitely need one," you try to tease. It comes out murmur-quiet, and Aaron takes pity and kisses your cheek. 
He leaves to shower and you 'watch' the soup — you stand at the stovetop and soak in it's emanating warmth, stirring it every now and then to prevent the bottom from burning. The shower runs muffled from the bathroom, and your mind wanders as it tends to do. It's an undeniable fact that Aaron is naked right now, the thought opening an avenue of images you've been trying not to think about all day. It's your very first time spending the night after a couple of weeks of dating, and now you're together, if Aaron wants to have sex tonight you'll say yes. He's handsome, and his build suggests a certain… tenacity. 
His hands would convince you alone. Big hands. 
You look down into the simmering pot of soup and smile harder than you have any right to smile. He's done everything right, all the romance; he'd asked you out clearly with no doubt of his intentions, which had shocked you; he'd brought you a bouquet of flowers on your first date, which had delighted you; and he hadn't tried to take you home, which had surprised you. 
Modern romance often doesn't feel very romantic. Things with Aaron are different. 
Hell, he's so sweet he probably won't make a move unless you make one yourself. 
You'd prefer to be squeaky clean tonight, you've decided, just in case. When he gets out of the shower, you'll tell him you've changed your mind.
The shower shuts off. He appears a little bit after that, in new clothes, towel around his neck and feet either side of your own as he sidles in for a damp and quick cheek kiss. 
"Sorry I took so long. Are you ready to eat?" he asks, taking the spoon from your hand to give the soup a big, gran stir. 
"Actually, could I shower?" 
If he's surprised at your changed mind he says nothing, only turns down the heat of the stove. "Of course you can. Come on, I'll show you how it all works." 
His 'come on' is accompanied with a guiding hand at the small of your back. You let yourself be guided. The heat of his touch fills your stomach and doesn't abate, no matter how cold you run the spray. 
2. Phone calls. 
It's the week after that when you're supposed to be spending the night again. You're excited for two reasons, the first and smallest being that he had been what you thought and more in bed, that itself an expectation raised, and it had felt like connection at its brightest — he'd been sweet, and he'd been rough but never, not ever once cruel. A perfect night. The second, and biggest, is that he's honestly just the nicest person you've ever met. He's your boyfriend, a phrase you don't say in front of him because he's admittedly older than you, and you can't imagine he calls you his girlfriend. Partner might be more apt. He's your boyfriend and he's openly fond of you. Openly more than that. It's new to be doted on as ardently as he dotes on you. 
He touches you like he can't believe he's touching you. He talks to you like you're gold dust, all smiles and laughs heavy with admiration, and he listens. You've never felt listened to in the way you do when you're with him. 
So many conversations are just one party waiting for the other to stop talking until it's their turn. You think, maybe, Aaron would let you talk for hours. He would listen the whole time. 
In summary, you're basically thrumming with excitement to see him again. You've missed him some, but mostly you've spent the week bouncing off of walls waiting for the next time you get to talk to him. 
His text is disheartening, to say the least. 
Hey, honey. I have to cancel our plans tonight. I'm sorry, and I'll explain as soon as I get the chance. Please take care of yourself for me until I can.
It doesn't make you mad. While it is extremely short notice, and your heart hurts to the point of frustrated tears, you know it isn't his fault. He's been clear about his job at the FBI and what that means for you both. How it will without a doubt pull him away from you during dates, the middle of the night, special occasions, the works — this had been after a small disclosure about his commitment to his son, Jack, and how he's a father first — and how it will definitely cause some strain. 
"But," he'd said, "I want you, and I want this to work. So if you can be patient with me, I'll try to make it worth it." 
He's been successful every time. After he'd cancelled your third date, he'd quickly rearranged it and apologised with a modest but beautiful bouquet of flowers. 
Somewhere between the fifth and sixth date, you hadn't seen him for two whole weeks, and every worry you'd had about his intentions had been abated by a steady stream of encouraging text messages and the occasional photograph. Nothing crazy, but sweet things, like the cookies he and Jack had made that night, captioned, I'd save one for you if I thought Jack would let me, or a sunrise in a different state, captioned, This looks like the dress you wore to Lemaira. 
Later that night, you're unhappy and frowning still, a small carton of ice cream freezing your fingers to the cardboard and a spoon in your mouth when your phone starts to ring. 
You aren't expecting it to be Aaron. You aren't in the habit of calling one another, even though you'd secretly wished he would while he's away beforehand. 
It's nearing eight o'clock. 
"What time do you call this?" you joke, smiling despite yourself. Again, the excitement that comes with talking to him wells at the surface. 
"I know, I'm sorry," he says, sounding very tired. 
You slouch down into your couch cushions, ice cream on the armrest, remote for the TV on your chest. You click the volume button down, down, down until the TV's near silent. 
"I'm kidding, mostly. Are you okay? I've been a little worried." 
Understatement of the century. You know sudden cases of violence often draw him away from Virginia, but this had been sudden sudden. The lack of information had made you think the worst, worse than serial killer and bombers and hostage situations. You'd thought Aaron was in danger himself, and then you'd tried to suffocate that thought. He'd never worry you like that even if he were. 
"I'm fine. Sorry to miss you tonight." 
"I'm sorry to miss you too," you say, voice disjointed, too earnest. You scramble to hide the depth of your feelings. "Where are you?" 
"I'm in St. Louis. Where are you?" 
You laugh, curling onto your side with the phone pressed up against your ear. "Where am I? I'm at home." 
"What are you doing?" 
"I was watching TV." 
"Yeah? Did you eat anything yet?" 
You think to the takeout you'd bought and shoved in the microwave, not hungry at the time but knowing knowing would be. "Not yet. Why are you asking?" 
"I want to know." 
"I told you in my text I would take care, Aaron." 
"Honey," he says, pet name like a warm palm over your heart, "my definition of taking care and your definition are very different. Promise me you'll eat something."
"Of course I will. Easy promise." You scratch the couch fabric absent-mindedly. "Have you eaten?" 
"Yes," he says, the sound of a closing window in the background. "It's awful how much take out I eat. All these cases, there's never any time to cook real food." 
"Why, what did you have? And surely there's some uber healthy options out there, like, a chickpea salad-" 
"That costs thirty dollars? I'm not struggling, honey, but we both know that's obscene." 
You're laughter takes on a giddy quality as you cross your leg over the other, picturing his smile as his laughter echoes breathily down the line. You really, really wish he were here right now and that you were having this conversation face to face. You know he'd smile and try to hide how smug he feels at making you laugh. His hand would reach over any gap to touch some silly part of you, forearm or collar or the skin under your ribcage. 
"Are you okay?" You say his name to drive the point home. Your voice is quiet — you're hesitant to offer, worried you're crossing a boundary. "Aaron, I know you don't like bringing it home, but you aren't home, so… I'm here." 
"I know. It's nothing I want you to worry about, there's an ongoing situation here, bomb threats coming in quicker than the local P.D can handle. They need us to vet them and figure out if any of them are real." 
You think about it for a few seconds, the silence small but not uncomfortable. If you were under that kind of pressure, you'd be hurting. Chest pains, anxiety shakes, a migraine. 
"You'll be safe?" you ask. 
"Always. I'm not in any danger. And I need to get home, I owe you a Friday." 
"You do," you mumble. 
There's the creak of a box spring mattress, and the sound of a lamp being clicked. On or off, you don't know. When Aaron speaks, his tone is dulcet and hushed but distinct. You feel it in your chest. 
"Tell me about your day," he murmurs. 
You lay it all out for him in detail. He can barely reply when you hang up, sleep thickening his affectionate, "Goodnight, honey." 
3. His bleeding heart.
"What kind of kid were you?" he asks.
You look up from your notebook, surprised. Aaron has been silent for what feels like an hour now, laid out on the picnic blanket with your sweater bundled up under his head while the sun warms your skin. 
"I was…" You let your pen roll into the centre of your notebook and close it. He's laid his paperback flat across his chest. You think he might be very interested in the answer. "It was a long time ago, but I think I was lonely." 
He nods like this is what he'd been expecting. "Me too." 
It's a gorgeous day out. The sky is a light, bright blue with few clouds. They block the sun occasionally, providing a short and bittersweet shield from the heat. The grass surrounding is shockingly green, rippling in the breeze. 
"You were?" you ask. "What were you like?" 
"I was quiet." 
"That's not surprising," you say mildly. 
"No, I guess not." 
You abandon your notebook and lay down beside him. Worrying what you look like from this angle, you cover your jaw with your hand and turn toward him ever so slightly to show you're listening. 
"I liked affection. I remember my mom used to say I was a siphon for it. I'd be all over her, and she'd have nothing left to give anyone else." 
"That's not true," you deny. Every ounce of affection that you given him, he has returned tenfold, and that's inspired a lot of kindness in you, for him and for the world. "You're like an amplifier, if anything." 
He smiles to himself and turns his gaze skyward. "I wish we'd met before." 
"Me too," you say, leaving little room for debate.
"You're so kind," — he adorns you with each word like a gift, a tiny star of praise — "I think you're the kindest person I've ever met." 
He laughs. It's a catching sound, contagious as anything. You giggle with him and shift closer. Your arms touch, your hips. 
"Baby," you murmur, almost lamenting, "d'you ever think your ability to see the good in people is- It's indicative of the good in you... You've given more of your life than most to keep other people safe. That's the kindest thing a person can do." 
He tangles your hand with his where it had been resting on your stomach. You're pretty sure you can feel every line of every fingerprint as he works your fingers together, a snug fit like one of those wooden brain teaser puzzles: How do you pull these two pieces apart? From the outside, it looks impossible!
"I think I'd be different, if I'd met you before. I'd be kinder," he says. 
You can't agree with him. It's obvious who he is. You know more about him now than you ever have before. His late wife, how she'd been the best mother they ever made. His son, and how he moulds Aaron everyday into a better man. His friends, who trust him, who adore him. All these people have a hand in who Aaron is now, and while you wish you'd been around from the start, now will have to do.
"You're plenty kind," you say. Understatement of the century. 
"Sorry," he says with a laugh, "With you-" He cuts himself off, head-shaking from side to side as he pulls your joined hands up slowly. 
Your arm bends and then turns as he pulls it toward his face. He unlinks your fingers to steer your forearm, aligning it flat over his lips. The first kiss is a surprise, light like the feathered edge of a flower petal, and the second isn't dissimilar. 
The third melts you, veritably, the parting of his lips emphasised by the dull scratch of teeth against your pulse, the wet heat of his tongue. Three becomes four, and a final fifth, crescent moons pressed into your skin like he's trying to tell you something. 
You've no clue what. You likely couldn't say which way the world turns, not when he's kissing you. Not like this. 
Aaron has an acute ability to talk without talking. Hello's and thank you's and I care about you's woven into quick kisses, the swift squeeze of his hand over the slope of your shoulder.
These ones say something you don't want to speak aloud, lest you jinx it. 
The sunlight fades. A big grey cloud covers the sun.
"I think it's gonna rain," you say. 
A raindrop splashes in Aaron's eye. 
"Fuck," he says, which is hilarious, because he never swears in front of you. You hadn't known he cussed at all. 
The downpour is slow and then sudden, spitting rain dotting over you both like a fine mist as you stand, a thicker, faster outpouring chasing your heels as you hurry to the car. You realise you can't outrun it even if you sprint, and so you stop, Aaron's hand in yours tugged like a rubber band. He bounces back into your chest with the picnic blanket under his arm, your books tucked somewhere inside. 
He doesn't ask what you're doing. He's made the same deduction as you, or maybe he trusts you, or maybe he's indulging you. 
"Your hair," he laments. 
"Doesn't matter," you say. 
You lift your chin up for a kiss. Aaron ducks down to give you one. A raindrop runs down the bridge of his nose to the tip of yours. 
4. In sickness. 
You insist that it wasn't the rain that made you sick, but honestly there's no way to tell. You'd kissed for slightly too long, and the rain had been surprisingly cold. Now you aren't very well, and you have to cancel Aaron's sleepover. 
You hold out as long as you can, but come Friday afternoon it's clear you aren't getting better. You wake to a text from Aaron, two texts, and it makes you smile through shivery coughs. 
I can't wait to see you tonight. Do you need anything before I get there? Miss you. Sent 6.26AM.
Is everything okay? Sent 9.17AM. 
Usually you'd have answer his morning text within the hour. 
Hi, I miss you too, so much, but I don't think we'll be able to see each other tonight. I've got the flu :( I'm sorry. And sorry I couldn't answer your message until now, I was sleeping. 
It's another hour before he answers. You rouse from your gross snotty stupor to squint at the phone. It's surprisingly long. 
I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get back to you, things are tense here right now. You don't have to be sorry for either, I'm glad to hear you're resting. You could have told me you were sick. Is it okay if I come and see you tonight anyways? I would love to check on you. Don't rush to answer, and call me if you can. 
You call him with reservations. 
"Is this a good time?" you ask weakly, forgoing a hello. 
It takes him a little while to speak. You assume he's leaving a room, closing a door. "Now's fine. How are you?" 
"My throat hurts and it's a little hard to breathe, but I'm sure I'll live." 
"You've been to see a doctor?" 
"It's not that bad." 
He sighs. "You sound tired. And sore. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" 
"You don't have to baby me, I'm really okay." 
"Have you considered that I'd like to baby you?" 
Not really. You can't imagine anyone would want to deal with you. You're a mess, you look awful, you don't smell great, and you're not good company. You can't think of a single reason Aaron would want to be anywhere near you right now. 
"No," you say, "I hadn't." 
"I'd love to look after you." 
"You could be doing something fun with your Friday. You could see Jack." 
"Jack's going to Kings Dominion. And Fridays are our day, you being sick doesn't make me want to see you less."
You hadn't said that, but he'd inferred it. Of course he had. 
You and Aaron decide that your sleepover will go ahead after all. Or, he persuades you very gently. You spend three hours doing tasks that should only take one. You shower, you clean your room, and you do the dishes. By the end of it you're sweating enough to need another shower but you aren't a quitter, so you open the freezer and stick your head in, hands braced against the refrigerator door. 
You're excited to see him. You always are. Too bad you look so wiped out. 
It's almost 6.30 when you hear his knock on the door. You'd been waiting for him and started dozing at the kitchen table, your neck a mess of twisted nerves, your hand numb from supporting your head. You shake it out and open the door, sheepish. 
"Hi," you croak out. 
He has a lot of stuff with him. His familiar overnight bag, a briefcase, two grocery bags, and a bouquet. 
"Aaron, why," you moan, covering your face with one hand as you move back down the hall to let him in. 
"Not the greeting I'd hoped for." 
"I can't greet you, I'll make you sick." 
You get all the way to the kitchen and think, triumphantly, that you've escaped his 'greeting'. He puts the flowers down carefully on the kitchen counter as you try to come up with a thank you that doesn't make your eyes burn. The grocery bags are placed without ceremony on the floor, and his overnight bag falls onto the kitchen chair. You watch him unbutton his rain spattered coat, and your triumph fades when he peels out of it and instantly reaches for you. 
"Aaron," you mumble, stepping into his arms. He knows you can't say no to a hug, not after a week of not seeing him. 
"I missed you," he says, arms around your back, lips at your temple. "You're running a temperature." 
"It's not that bad. 101." 
"Honey, 101 is bad." 
"Not as bad as 102." 
"Not as bad as 102," he concedes. You can hear his voice rumbling in his throat, and feel it in his chest and yours.
He takes as much of your weight as he can, leaning back so you're forced to arc forward. Your face slips into his neck, and you're thinking, this is what it's like? To be held, sick, with nothing to give? It feels good.
"Please tell me the next time you're sick," he murmurs. 
You definitely will. If this is what it's like, roaming, cautious hands over your shoulder blades, a strong nose stroking lines against your warm forehead. 
"Thank you for the flowers." 
It's squished against his skin but he hears it. "You're welcome. Do you want me to put them in a vase?" 
"I can do it." 
"I think that might defeat the purpose. They're a gift, not an extra chore." 
"Nobody ever got me flowers before you, so it doesn't feel like a chore at all." 
He encourages your face back enough to look at you. You have to mouth breath on him because your nose is all stuffed up, and it is not something you're happy to do. You look down so he can't feel it. 
"I'm gonna do something really cheesy, and you can tease me about it later, okay?" 
You look at him from under your lashes. "'Kay." 
"Close your eyes," he whispers. 
You let your eyes shut. Aaron cradles your face in both hands and pulls your face toward his chin, in your rough approximation. 
Heat fans against your eyes. He kisses your eyelids, the left and then the right, the most gentle press of his lips you've ever felt. 
"It's killing me to see you like this," he says, and you're grateful for the pinch of humour behind it. "Couch or bed?" 
"Couch. I wanna watch a movie with you." 
"Good. I wanna watch a movie with you, too." 
Aaron does everything. You're too tired to notice, but when you're better, you'll add it all up. He makes you dinner and breakfast and lunch and enough for the day after that, too. He trims down all your flowers and places them in a vase on your window sill. He recleans your room, cleans your bathroom, and plays nursemaid diligently. He makes you take your temperature in front of him, and then he fawns and makes you hug an ice pack, stays the night again when he's supposed to go home. 
It sucks, but your temperature falls, and when your insides stop cooking themselves you start to feel better. On Sunday morning, when he has to leave, you feel the strange pang of being cared for unconditionally like the wind being knocked out of you. He'd done all of that because he cares about you. He'd wanted to see you fed and well and happy, and he hadn't gotten anything out of it in return. 
5. The test-drive.
"Hi, Jack," you mumble, rubbing wetness out of your sleep-heavy eyes. "Good morning." 
"Good morning," he says cheerfully, of his father's disposition. 
"Did you," — you yawn wide and turn your face so neither of them can see — "sleep well?" 
"Yeah, thank you. Why are you so tired?" 
Aaron's standing at the stovetop making oatmeal. You stand at the counter beside it, hips touching but facing opposite ways. "I'm still getting used to your dad's bed." 
It's true. There's something about someone else's mattress that makes you ache. 
"What is it about my mattress you can't get along with?" Aaron asks in good humour, adding a generous pinch of salt to the saucepan. 
"It's more comfortable than mine," you say with a self-satisfied laugh. 
Aaron pecks your damp cheek and skirts around you to fill three identical bowls of oatmeal next to three identical glasses of orange juice. Jack cheers when his portions are placed in front of him, and he digs in even though it's ridiculously hot. 
Aaron had explained once that he's basically trained Jack to eat it scorchingly hot by accident. Years of oatmeal straight off of the hob versus a growing boy with no patience. You watch in awe as Jack scarfs it down. 
You and Aaron are doing this thing. You've called it the test-drive in your head. He wants to see how well you and Jack get along, likely, and how well you handle living together, too. (Though you absolutely don't think you'll be moving in together quite this soon.) That's your working theory. He'd asked you if you'd be interested in staying for the week a month ago, and you had, and it had been a dream. This is week two, and it seems to be going just as well as the first. 
It's definitely revealing. To see each other's routines. And an adjustment. You have to see all the gross stuff, no avoiding it. 
Though stuff you might consider gross he enjoys. Like watching you put on body lotion, he'd loved that more than words could express. And watching him shave, you'd loved that more than you'd thought you would. You'd sat on the lip of the tub and he'd listened to your morning murmurings, half asleep and excited as always to talk to him about everything. 
Getting to know Jack more has been a joy, too. You've met him nowhere near as many times as you would've liked and done family things: bowling, pizza places, the movies, a baseball game. 
Eating breakfast together is way more fun. Especially because Jack likes you. 
As soon as you sit down he starts to tell you about school. You listen, sipping your orange juice while you wait for the oatmeal to cool from lava. 
After breakfast, the three of you head back to your respective bedrooms to get dressed. 
That's something else you adore, you and Aaron undressing and redressing together in the space in front of his closet, the intimacy of casual nudity, and the way his hand closes around your hip to move you out of the way of his shirts. 
You're pretty much inseperable until you get to the car park. A firm believer in kids receiving as much love as they can from everybody, you offer Jack a hug before you part ways everytime. Sometimes he says yes, though most times he says, "Thank you, Miss Y/N, but my hug quota is full." 
Today, he squeezes your waist really hard and says, "Have a good day bye," like it's one word.
"Have a good day, baby," you tell him, laughing as he jettisons into the passenger seat of Aaron's car. 
Aaron usually gives you a swift kiss and goodbye like his son. Today, he brings his hand to your neck. You stare him straight in his dark eyes as he does, marvelling the shock of straight lashes outlining each one, and the permanent wrinkle between his brow from frowning. 
Placing two hands on either shoulder, you use his frame to rise on tiptoes and kiss it. 
"Don't frown too much today, okay, handsome? Have a good day." 
He cups your face in both hands as your heels touch the ground. His hands are warm, kind as he pushes both palms over your cheeks and your ears. He covers them, and your heartbeat amplifies, a thumping sound fighting his skin. Then he slips his fingers behind your ears and the roaring fades. 
"I love you," he says. 
You beam at him. "Really?"
"Really. I love you, honey. Have a good day."
As if. If he thinks he can walk away after dropping that on you he's got another thing coming. 
You throw your arms around his neck and all your weight into his front, almost barrelling him over. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your thighs around him, 'cause then he really might fall over. 
You dig your face into his neck, searching for something, for the perfect place to rest your cheek. "I love you, Aaron." 
There isn't a chance in hell he didn't already know it. 
"I got you something," he says. 
You laugh in surprise and tighten your hold on him. "Why? This is gift enough." He loves you. It bounces around in your chest. 
"Because I'm not stupid enough to miss what I have right in front of me." 
You lean back so you can kiss him, ignoring his hand as it reaches into his pocket. 
"Baby," you say, a hair's width from his lips. You kiss him again for a second, thrilled, but curiosity pulls you back. "You have it now?" 
He takes a step away from you and reveals the box in his pocket, long and thin. It clicks open on a silver hinge, and inside velveteen lies a simple chain.
"Is that a diamond?" you ask, breathless. The stone at the end of the chain shines like nothing you've ever seen before. 
You don't know a thing about them other than that they're expensive. You can't see Aaron Hotchner of all people buying a fake. 
"A small one," he says modestly. 
Your eyes burn. You're happy to the point of tears but you refuse to cry. 
"And it's for me?" you ask. 
He laughs and you laugh too, the sound slightly sniffly. 
"Of course. Do you want to wear it?" 
"Now? Yes, more than anything," you say, smiling hard, cheeks appled and aching. "Are you serious?"
"More than anything." 
Corny, you think desperately. Do not cry, that's so cheesy. 
"Are you sure you don't want to wait until my birthday?" 
He gestures for you to turn around, the chain hanging from his finger. You turn, feel his hands brushing against your neck as he lays it across your chest and pulls it together behind your nape. 
"Your birthday gift is better than this." 
Better? You could burst. 
The clasp closes and he rubs his hands down the backs of your shoulders. 
You turn back around, face dipped to your chest in efforts to see the necklace. It's short but long enough to spot the diamond hanging under your collar. 
"I've never had a diamond, before," you mumble, hands pressed to your chest. Your heart bumps under your hand. 
"Thank you," you say, looking up, "baby, you didn't have to. You don't have to get me stuff like this, it's a lot." 
"I don't think it's too much. You give gifts when you're grateful. I'm grateful to love you." 
He's expecting you this time, unwavering when your arms slide over his shoulders. You breathe in the smell of his skin and he does the same, his face pressed to the top of your head.
Jack is late for school that day. You apologise to Aaron more times than you can count, and every time he only smiles and says, "It's okay. I love you." 
+1 
Aaron misses your first anniversary. 
It's a very important date to miss, and you have a right to be upset. 
But. 
You always knew from the very first date that this was something that could, unfortunately, happen. You'd been lucky to get him for your birthday, luckier still to see him on his own and treat him with the delights he deserved. You'd figured eventually something would happen to throw a spanner in the works. 
What you aren't expecting is the lack of anger. 
You aren't mad at him, not one bit. It would be okay if you were, even though it's not his fault, because this is so big. You're celebrating the best year of your life alone, and that's no fun. You and Aaron had planned to go away, two days in a fancy hotel, Jack with Jessica and no worries. 
He can't ignore a bomb threat in the capital, and he wouldn't want to. 
You know a missed anniversary is a lesser weight than innocent people dead. You know Aaron wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't go. You know he regrets leaving you on such an important day. 
Maybe one day, you'll be angry with him. Today, you only miss him. 
I love you. I'm sorry. I'll be back very soon. Happy anniversary. 
He sends that after a grovelling, short phone call, in which you assure him that it's fine. Your voice is tight with tears, you miss him like crazy, and he hears it though you try to hide it. 
I will make it up to you. 
You don't have any doubts. 
You feel a little sorry for yourself, and then you send him a text of your own. 
I love you, so don't be sorry. Get back safe and sound and consider yourself forgiven. Happy anniversary, my love. 
Followed with what's likely too many hearts for good measure. 
Still, still, he doesn't believe it's okay. You know he's human, and he loves you, and that makes it easy to predict how he's feeling — worried that you're angry, worried that you'll leave him, worried this won't work for you. 
And you're only human yourself. You can't say how you'll feel in another year, or two, or five. You can't imagine how depressing it might be to miss the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries with him year after year, but you want to be patient. You want to forgive him for the things he has no hand in, and you do. 
You get a visitors pass for his office once you're cleared and take the elevator up, checking your text messages for the fifth time, just to make sure. 
I'll be home in a couple of hours, the plane touches down in two. Love you. Sent 4.53PM. 
It's the day after your anniversary, a Monday, and it's nearly 7PM. You smile at people you've seen in passing the few times you've visited his office before and don't bother trying to sit in Aaron's office, knowing it's locked while he's away. You travel the spare steps and sit at the top of the landing, hands clutching the neck of the bunch of flowers you're holding nervously. The cellophane crinkles. 
You hadn't answered him. It was cruel to leave him hanging, but you didn't expect him to come home so soon. He's too damn good at his job. 
The elevator doors open in the quiet. Barely anybody lingers now in the late hour, and the voices of the BAU echo. 
Spencer sees you first. Morgan second. They stop at the beginning of the office. 
Aaron sees you third.
You spring to stand up on your feet, and then you feel very tall and very seen and descend the steps rather than draw more attention. 
"You said seven," you say, not sure what else to say, not with people watching you. "This is definitely closer to eight." 
Aaron thankfully isn't too proud to speed walk to you. Your heart skips as you meet him, flowers crushed half to death as he gets his arm behind your neck, hooking your head in the crook of his elbow. 
He kisses you roughly. Heat floods every inch of skin, your breath rushes out of your nose with a sigh. 
He pulls back. 
"Happy anniversary," you say quietly, smiling at the sheer relief in his eyes. 
"It was yesterday," he says, quiet too. 
"Happy one year and one day, then." You push him away from you gently. "Don't suffocate your roses." 
"You got me flowers." 
"You get people gifts when you're grateful," you parrot. 
He takes a step back and accepts the flowers. On the message card, you've written, bashful and clumsy and adoring, I'm grateful to love you. One year and more. 
He moves the bouquet into one hand and wraps you up in another huh, firm-armed, chin over the top of your head, though he intersperses his embrace with dainty kisses pecked from one temple to another. 
"You aren't mad?" he asks, worried about the answer. 
"No," you say honestly. "Not mad. Missed you like crazy yesterday, but I get you today. I can make it work." 
When you break apart a second time, you both buckle under the weight of his colleagues watching.
"Thank you," Rossi speaks up, grand and wry, "we thought we'd have to endure his moping for at least a week. Your understanding spares us all." 
"Nice, Dave," Aaron says. 
"I've got your paperwork, Hotch," Morgan offers. 
Aaron has the good sense to accept it before Morgan can change his mind. His friends say goodbye, and Aaron pulls you by the hand back to the elevator bank. You couldn't wipe the smile off of his face if you tried. 
The elevator doors have barely closed when he's leaning down to kiss you again. 
"Thank you," he says. 
"You really don't have to say thank you," you murmur, bumping your shoulder with his. "You got home safe. That's all that matters." 
His next kiss is bruising. The sound of cellophane crushed between you makes you laugh. He kisses you through it, his smile pressed feverishly to yours, over and over and over.
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