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elusivedew · 15 days ago

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golden.

✧ synopsis ⤐ spencer is gentle, even in the darkest hours of the night.

✧ contains ⤐ several references to sex, this is all about aftercare. post-prison spence except I haven't gotten that far yet so don't mind any inaccuracies, I just thought he deserves something nice ♡ w.c ~ 1.3k

Your muscles ache. It's a low pleasant hum reverberating through your body, similar to the feeling after a long strenuous day, but nowhere as exhausting. Your heart is still pounding in your chest like an uncontrolled feeling, but it feels so full.

Spencer, the culprit in this story, shifts beside you to pull the covers over your exposed body. He’s gentle and tentative, like he always is, especially after nights like this. It’s like he's apologizing for defiling you the way he does, always concerned about going too far or making you feel uncomfortable. He looks down at you with familiar, warm hazel eyes, and you wonder how he could ever do any of those things.

He brings you closer, an arm coming around your waist to pull you against him. You move to lay on his bare shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact soothing all your stimulated neurons. While you’re slowly coming back to earth, still slightly starry-eyed, you listen to the sound of his heartbeats. You count them, memorize them, get to know him through the organ behind the flesh. It’s so serene that you almost doze off, but Spencer’s raspy voice shakes you awake.

“Angel.”

You hum, unmoving and consumed by the visions in your head.

He rubs your shoulder, willing you back to the present. You move to look up at him, and his smile is so sweet that you almost can’t believe he’s the same guy from a few minutes ago. But, then again, no one who knows Spencer would expect him to be so skilled at stealing your breath right out of your body.

That’s something that no one else will experience with him now that you’re here. You smile, feeling proud and territorial.

“What are you smiling about?” He leans down and kisses you, you want to ask for more but you’re spent.

“Nothing,” you whisper against his lips, “Just the fact that you're all mine.”

He grins, wide and boyish, and you wish his face would glow like that all the time. His flushed face and messed up hair, both being your handiwork, make your heart feel like it's about to burst right out of your chest. Despite just getting your fill of him, you wish you could eat him up right now.

“Can’t argue with that”, his eyes twinkle playfully, “we still have to get you cleaned up before you can go to bed.”

You grunt, “god, not again.”

“I’m not letting you go to sleep like that, and you know you’re risking a UTI if you don’t pee before you knock out. It’s essential for a pleasant experience that you wash up properly after, do you know how much bodily fluid you’re covered in right now?”

You frown, when he says it like that, it sounds really gross, but it’s what you get for being with a germaphobe.

“I hate this part.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear and plants a kiss on your forehead that smoothes your frown down, “I know you do. C’mon, I’ll help you up.”

Getting up proves to be the easy part, getting up on your legs however, it wasn't as steady as you hoped it would be. When you're forced to sit down on the bed again because the pain pierces through your pelvis so suddenly it feels like getting electrocuted, Spencer looks concerned.

“Cramps again? I really have to slow down next time.”

You groan, “no, Spence, I've told you before it’s fine. Just means we had a little too much fun, and it's not a bad thing.”

He nods hesitantly, “are you sure?”

“Yeah I am, just,” you reach your arms out, “carry me?”

His concern is quickly replaced by a bright smile, “gladly.”

Within a few minutes, you’re both out of the bedroom and in the bathtub. Spencer hates the bathtub. He hates sitting down to take a bath and always voices out his concerns about how counterproductive it is to soak in contaminated water. Knowing that he likes to remind you of that everytime you’re taking a bath, Spencer must be dead tired to just sit his naked butt down in the tub, but you’re not complaining.

Because he’s the sweetest boy on earth, he helps you wash up first, getting all the spots you can’t reach yourself easily. When he’s lazily washing your hair, you decide it’s the perfect moment to start babbling about nonsense, sleep deprivation and bliss mixing together to jumble up all your coherent thoughts.

“My favorite thing about you being away is when you come back.”

“So there’s other good things about me being gone?” The smile is so clear in his voice.

You turn around to scoff at him, “Spence, terrible time to be a smartass.”

He grins, “it’s never a terrible time to be a smartass.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the bath, you let him clean you up because you can barely see anymore. It’s three in the morning and he came home around midnight. You were already tired by then, but you missed him too much to not take the chance to immediately take him to bed— it’s hard to resist your boyfriend when his hair is growing out again and he hasn’t shaved in 2 weeks.

When the bath is done, he dries you off and helps you get dressed. You’re distracted by his bare chest the whole time, watching the flexion of his arms when he puts a shirt over your head. Then you sit on the bed, observing as he gets dressed. After nearly three hours of touching him in every possible way, his body is still so mesmerizing to you. Nearly three years of being together and countless incidents of unholy experiences, and you still feel like you’re seeing him for the first time.

“Are you done observing?”

You’re broken out of your lust-filled thoughts by the sound of his voice. Looking up at his face, you're met by a crooked smile that makes you slightly breathless. He walks over to the edge of the bed where you’re sitting, and you welcome him with open arms.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You grin, arms tightly secured around his waist. He runs his fingers through your hair, “you’ve never been a very good liar.”

Your final step getting ready for bed is letting him braid your hair. You always ask him to do it for you because he’s magical with his hands, his braid always coming out perfectly in a way you could never manage. You’ve taught him a lot about how to care for your hair, and as he tentatively and gently crosses the strand to draw up his perfect braid, you can’t help but think about how good of a father he would be if you ever had a little girl.

When all of that's done, there's nothing coming between you and the bed anymore. You curl up under the covers as he slips in beside you. You're both tired, from the long day and the long night, but the sense of bliss that comes over you is possibly the most satisfied you've ever been.

You look at him, reaching out to trace the outline of his stubble. He leans into your touch eagerly while you admire him some more, feeling every small detail over his skin. You know he needs the tenderness just as much as you do, especially when he's had long days at work. You know all the monsters he sees at his job secretly haunt him, and you know that he feels hopeful every time he's in your arms— because the world doesn't have to end every time he has to confront cruelty, and there’s love and adoration out there that almost overpowers the poisonous hate.

You reach for his hands, kissing the calluses on his fingertips. You know holding his gun comes with heavy responsibility, a responsibility that’s made him so much tougher than he was when he first started. When you’re done planting a kiss on every fingertip, you kiss his lips one more time, because you love him and you want him to know it. He smiles into the kiss and you’re sure he does.

The gold in his eyes is the last thing you see before falling asleep.

#ive only proof read this one twice thats when u know its getting bad #but its something! hope its a nice little bite sized fluff snack for you guys while i work on my next big thing #and happy birthday spencer !! again!!!!!#my beloved scorpio princess #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader

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janeyseymour · 9 months ago

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Love Thy Neighbor- pt 5

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4

Summary: Melissa helps you out. It's not helping the feelings that you have for her.

WC: ~2.15k

You’ve been teaching for a few weeks at Abbott a this point now, and you are eternally grateful for this job. You get to take Ellie with you to school, you don’t have to race around to pick her up after. The staff is nice enough, and your kids are wonderful. They absolutely adore you more than anything. Receiving drawings and cards is an almost daily occurrence, and it melts your heart- your students out in Utah never did things like this.

You work closely with Melissa during your preps to make sure that your room is going well, and any questions that you have you’re able to ask her. She’s so willing to help you with both big problems (realizing that you have no teacher’s manual for the science unit that you’re set to start the next week) and the small (standing in between your classrooms when you have to use the bathroom so desperately you’re afraid you’re going to get a UTI).

( “Fuck,” you curse softly during your prep while you’re ripping every drawer and cabinet open in your room.

“What’s going on, hun?” She magically appears in your doorway. “You look frazzled, and I can hear the cabinets opening and closing over in my room.”

“Shoot, sorry,” you turn and sigh softly. “I can’t find the science manual that I’m supposed to be basing these science lessons off of.”

“That may be my fault,” the redhead admits with a smirk. “I hated it, so I burnt it and made up my own lessons. You have all the materials for what you have to get done, and I can help you out at home tonight if you bring your planner home.”

“I’ll make dinner.”

—

You’re squirming in your chair, desperate for the bathroom. But your kids are taking a test, and every time you pop your head out the door, there is no one there for you to pull into your room for a quick three minutes while you rush down the hall to relieve yourself.

Melissa appears in your door though to ask you a quick question, and she can immediately see the discomfort written into your face.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly as she makes her way over to your desk.

You shake your head. “I really have to-”

“Go,” is all she has to say for you to take off in the direction of the bathroom.

You come back a few minutes later, much more relaxed now. “Thank you. What’s up?”

“Just came to see if you needed any copies made- I’m sending Ashley to do some… woman’s driving me nuts lately.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “There’s a stack of papers there to be copied and filed if you want to send her in… and I can always come up with other ways to keep her occupied and out of your hair.”

“That would be great,” the redhead smiles at you softly. “Thanks.” )

All of these situations at school, combined with the ones at home are not helping the feelings that you have developed for the fiery redheaded second grade teacher.

At school, she’s sweet enough, but outside of school hours… it’s even worse.

You have your car now, but she still insists on carpooling with you.

( “It’s more cost efficient, and Jacob isn’t on my ass about burning too many fossil fuels now that we come in together,” she rolls her eyes.

“At least let me drive,” you sigh.

“Her booster is already in my car,” Melissa retaliates. “Just get in.” )

Ellie insists on spending time with her whenever she can, and when you think that it’s getting to be too much for Melissa, she’s waving you off and telling you that having the two of you around is the best thing that’s happened to her. She helps Ellie with homework while you’re lesson planning, she insists on making dinner at least twice a week, your little girl is on her hip at dismissal everyday and falls asleep- only for the redhead to shush everyone around her before she carries her out to the car, the two watch cartoons together and snuggle… she’s really stepped up and stepped in for your daughter when she needed some extra love and care.

And with doting on Ellie the way that she does, she’s also doting on you.

( “You eating enough?” she asks you one day when she sees that you’ve hardly touched your meal. You’re instead pouring over your kids’ essays and grading them frantically.

“I’ll eat after I finish grading these and putting them in,” you wave her off. “You and Ellie eat.”

“We already did, Momma,” your daughter says from the couch, reaching for the television remote. How’d she get there?

Before you can respond, there’s a forkful of gnocchi being held up to your mouth, and Melissa is sitting there giving you a look that says not to argue.

“Thank you,” you sigh softly as you open your mouth. She feeds you the rest of your dinner, despite your daughter begging for attention from the redhead.

Only when you’re finished eating does the woman go and pull the little girl on the couch into her lap.

You continue to grade until you have both of them standing at your side. Or, Melissa is standing at your side while Ellie is clinging to her, settled on her hip.

“Momma, you have to come tuck me,” your little girl yawns out. “Miss Mel said it’s bedtime.”

You glance up at the clock to see that it is indeed Ellie’s bedtime. Your heart melts at the thought that the redhead has so seamlessly integrated herself into your life that she not only knows your daughter’s bedtime, but is able to implement it without your daughter making a fuss over it.

The two of you get the little girl into bed and read with her before flicking off the light. You make your way back to the kitchen table to continue grading, and when you expect her to leave, she instead sits down and takes a hefty portion of the grading that you still have to do. Her glasses are on her face, and her eyes are trained on the work in front of her. She grabs one of the pens that you have sitting on the table and opens it to mark a few things.

You’re so busy watching her that you forget to continue grading yourself. She nudges you gently.

“I’m tryin’ to help you, hun,” she chuckles. “You gotta do some work though too.”

You take the graded papers are start entering them into grade book with a sigh. With the two of you working together, grades get put in rather quickly. You can’t help but grin at her sleepily as she grades the last one for you, and you enter the number.

“I think you just saved my life,” you sigh softly. You lay a gentle hand over hers and squeeze it gently.

“I think you need some sleep, hun,” she tells you gently. “Get to bed, and I’ll see myself out.”

“Or we could just hang out on the couch?” you suggest. “I like when you’re here with me… and I love when it’s me, you, and El, but having some adult time is nice.”

She chuckles but nods and leads you to the couch. She settles into the corner of it, and you slide in next to her, grabbing a blanket.

It’s warm, it’s domestic, it’s cozy. Her arm is draped around you lazily, your head nuzzled into the crook of her neck as you curl up and find a program to watch.

You doze off, and you’re not quite sure for how long because the next thing you know Ellie is climbing on top of you with tears in her eyes. Melissa is still there with you, eyes opening blearily.

“Momma,” the little girl whines and settles herself, half in your lap and half in Melissa’s. “Miss Mel.”

“What’s wrong, sweetness?” you ask her gently, teasing the little wisps at the base of her neck. You press a delicate kiss to her temple, and you see Melissa also move the arm not wrapped around you to soothingly rub your daughter’s back.

“Bad dream,” she mumbles as she lays against the two of you.

You sigh softly. “Do you want to talk about it, or try to head back off to dreamland?”

“Dreamland,” she yawns as she rubs her eyes. “But I want you and Miss Mel with me.”

At the mention of her, the redhead’s eyes widen just slightly.

“Please,” Ellie mumbles as she curls into your neighbor’s side. “Please.”

“Momma will come lay with you,” you try to placate softly. You attempt to pull her into your arms, but she desperately reaches for the woman next to you. “We won’t all fit in your bed, sweet girl,” you tell her.

“Momma’s bed,” she mumbles as she wiggles out of your hold and into Melissa’s. The redhead glances at you, and you shrug.

Knowing that if you deny Ellie right now, she will have a meltdown, and you just don’t have it in you to deal with that. You nod, praying to God that your room is clean.

“Mel can stay for a little bit,” Melissa tells the little girl in her arms. “Until you fall asleep.”

The three of you make your way to your bedroom, Ellie sandwiched between the two of you in bed. Ellie clings to the redhead as she starts to fall back asleep. Melissa hums a sweet little tune before she quietly starts to sing a lullaby in a different language. You realize that it’s Italian quickly, and her voice is so gentle and smooth- even at the soft volume. While it lulls your daughter to sleep, it also lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up again to your alarm, Ellie’s little head pops up from Melissa’s chest before flopping back down gently. If the redhead wasn’t already awake, she is now. “Oof.”

“You stayed,” Ellie whispers.

“I didn’t really have a choice when you decided to use me as your body pillow,” the woman chuckles softly.

You look over at your girl, who is in fact fully on top of Melissa the way that she usually lays on you after a nightmare.

“Oopsies,” Ellie grins. She doesn’t look sorry in the slightest. Then she jumps up. “Time to see Mrs. Howard?”

“Yeah, sweetness,” you chuckle. You love that she adores her kindergarten teacher. “After we get ready, and you have to let Miss Melissa up.”

She uses the two of you as launchpads to sprint into her bedroom, and the two of you fall back into the pillows gently. You turn your head to look at her.

“Thank you,” you say softly, a smile on your face.

“For?”

“Being here for El and me,” you sigh. “It’s made this adjustment to this new life a lot easier.”

Her eyes are so warm as they stare into your own, and she flits her gaze down to your lips.

As much as you want to kiss her right now, you know you shouldn’t. It would be unprofessional… and you have morning breath. Instead, you throw the blankets back on your side and roll out of bed.

She watches you. She’s thought you were gorgeous for quite some time now, but in the morning when you’re just you and not ‘Miss Y/N’ may be her favorite look of yours.

“Stop,” you laugh awkwardly as you feel her gaze while you try to pick out your outfit. “I look like a mess right now, and you should be getting ready for work too.”

“You’re stunning,” she tells you honestly. “But yes… I should probably head over to my apartment to get ready.” She rolls out of bed and starts to make her way out when you catch her arm gently.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you squeeze her arm.

“Of course.”

She heads for the front door, and you can hear Ellie yelling her goodbyes from her bedroom.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” the redhead promises. “And then we’ll go to school together. I think your momma’s driving too.” The door closes after that, and as you get ready, you let your mind wander about what would change if you decided to just say fuck it and kiss her again. The two of you would probably end up together…

But really, with her across the hall and practically being a part of your family already, what more would change? Not much. But if you were to date and then split? That would be… hell.

Maybe she’s worth the risk though. You shrug in the mirror and shake your head as you try to focus on what has to be done today.

Maybe with time… only time will tell.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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mattsturnioloz · 9 days ago

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I found you again: Pt 2.

Summary: Sequel of ‘Then I lost you’, A year after a devastating break up, Y/n finds herself reuniting with the love of her life, Matt Sturniolo, at a mutual friends birthday party. Will they rekindle their love?

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: Crying, arguing, angst, uti, cussing, mentions of anxiety.

A/N: (Yall wanted this so bad so i’m about to work on it, hope you guys enjoy😚 Again, If you haven’t, I recommend reading ‘Then I lost you’ first. There’s 5 parts so you have a little more understanding of why they broke up and the story in general, here’s a link :) ‘Then I lost you’)

I feel dread the rest of the way to the party. I know I shouldn’t be upset but I can’t help it. I can’t just throw away the 5 years we had together.

We get to the party and I realize that I need to loosen up. Chris, Nick and I thank the uber as we walk up to Tara’s door and we don’t bother knocking, I open the door and lead us in, seeing all the people, feeling a little self conscious about my outfit since I don’t usually dress this way. I grab Nicks hand as we walk through the house so that we didn’t lose eachother, Chris close behind.

“Y/n, we HAVE to take pictures in a bit I need some for instagram.” Nick says and Chris nods agreeing with him. “Yea sure, you guys look good.” I reply smiling at them, taking in their outfits. They both say thank you as we continue to walk through the crowded house, greeting some friends and we spot Larri, Quen and Tara talking in the backyard.

We walk up to them and I pounce on Larri and Quen scaring them and they both jump. “Holy fuck bitch you scared me!!” Larri yells, laughing as we hug.

All 6 of us talk for a while and we take pictures but eventually I somehow end up alone. Everyone is doing their own thing and I go inside where people are dancing and taking shots then I turn around when I feel someone grab my shoulder and it’s Jake with Johnnie next to him.

“Hi guys!!” I yell over the music hugging them. “Hey, Happy Birthday! are you gonna take shots with us?” Jake asks with shots in his hands and all of a sudden the attention is on us and the whole party is watching and convincing me to take some. I look in the corner of my eye and I see tara, a shot already in her hand.

I nod and drown down a couple of shots and all of us are having a good time. I’m not drunk but I definitely feel a little buzzed. I grab a drink after and I sit in the corner of the house just observing everyone as they dance.

The front door opens and I watch to see who it could be and my heart drops down to my ass. It’s Matt. With a blonde haired girl following behind him as they hold hands. I feel like throwing up. I clutch my chest before holding my mouth and I run to the bathroom dropping to the floor, puking up all of the alcohol.

I stand up and wipe my mouth, going to door and locking it. I look in the mirror, leaning against the sink. I thought he wasn’t coming?? I can’t go back out. I have to pretend to be drunk or something so I have an excuse to go home. Ew no.. I can’t do that.

I can’t say it’s because I don’t want to see Matt with a new girl, i’ll look like an idiot. But here I am a year later, still fonding over my ex who’s clearly moved on. I have to act like I don’t care. Yea, i’ll do that.

I hear a knock at the door and I fix myself up before opening it. I’m already startled when I see it’s the girl Matt came with, his girlfriend.

There’s an awkward silence between us before she speaks up “Can I- uh..” she says, pointing at the bathroom awkwardly, and that’s when I realize I was just standing there staring like a freak. Fuck. I already messed up.

“Oh! yea. i’m so sorry..” I answer, almost jumping out the way. God that’s embarrassing. I walk away and I sit back in the spot I was at originally. That’s when I spot Matt talking to Nick and Chris.

He looks so different. So good.. He has a new haircut and he grew his beard out. He doesn’t have the middle part anymore. He looks better.

He takes off his sweater revealing his arm covered in scattered tattoos and I melt. He has way more than what he had when we were together. I stop staring and look away when I see that his gaze meets mine, his eyes widening in shock when he spots me and I try to act like I didn’t see him. I feel my heart starting to beat out of my chest.

I look to my left and see his girlfriend coming out of the bathroom, making her way over to him before kissing him. I feel like i’m gonna throw up again as I feel a pit forming in my stomach. I make an almost disgusted face but quickly wipe it off. I can’t hate just because i’m jealous.

I look to my right and I see Nick and Chris walking over to me, Chris speaking first. “Nick wants to take shots, but he’s scared.” He says leaning down to my ear since the music was loud. “Why are you scared?” I chuckle, looking over at Nick when he starts speaking. “See, we’ve been 21 for months and I haven’t drank because i’m scared im gonna wake up in a ditch with an agonizing hangover.” he adds, as the 3 of us chuckle.

“I’ll get drunk if you do.” I say to Nick and Chris looks between us back and forth with his jaw dropped while chuckling. “I’m down.” Nick replies, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. I’m not stupid. I know I only said that to get Matt and the fact that he has a girlfriend off my mind.

I stand up and we go to the kitchen, brushing past Matt and his girlfriend and I fill up 2 shot glasses for Nick and I when Chris nudges me holding a shot glass. “You too?” I say raising my brows at him and he nods giggling like he’s excited.

I look over at Matt and his girlfriend who are watching us. “You guys want one?” I ask them, specifically making eye contact with Matt. I have to act like I don’t care, right?

“No i’m oka-“ His girlfriend replies but getting cut off by him. “I’ll take one.” He replies with a slight smile at me and I smile back, nodding and filling up a shot glass for him.

I hand it to him before the 4 of us cheers as his girlfriend watches us. Matt only took 1 shot because he’s driving, but Nick, Chris and I keep taking some to the point where I don’t know how many we drank.

15 minutes later the 3 of us are drunk leaning against each other while laughing and messing around. “L-let’s go to the couch..” Nick slurs, laughing as he talks. When we try to walk Chris falls splat on the ground and just lays there instead of getting up, making Nick and I tumble to the ground from laughing so hard. “Nick- Nick I can’t get uppp!” I say cackling pushing on his head trying to get up, Nick still laughing hysterically.

I look over at Chris and he’s still on his stomach in the same position he fell in, giggling to himself, his face squished against the cold wood floors. “Get up you freak!” I yell at Chris, still unable to control myself and I see Matt walking over to help him up. “Alright buddy, let’s get you guys home.” He says to Chris. He takes Chris first while Nick and I are sitting up, slumped against eachother on the wall.

Matt comes back and takes Nick before coming back for me. His girlfriend already waiting in the car with Chris and Nick. “Alright it’s your turn..” He says scooping me up bridal style, putting my arm around his neck. “Me too??..” I slur, my eyes barely open. “What? You thought i’d leave you there? you can’t possibly think that low of me.” He says, chuckling. I smile at him and my hand finds the back of his head and I start playing with his hair.

He looks at my face and smiles at me sweetly, making eye contact with me and I couldn’t help but cup his face and glide my finger across his cheek. I missed his face, the feeling of his touch, his smile, the way he looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

He takes my hand from his face holding it in his. “You can’t do that y/n.. I’m with Nancy.” He says, his smile fading. Right. I’m an idiot. “Sorry..” I slur, embarrassed. I know I can’t be selfish though, he’s in a relationship and I need to respect that. It’s not fair to her.

He still smiles at me again as he opens the back door of his car, putting me next to Chris before buckling me in and shutting the door. He gets into the passenger seat and his girlfriend kisses his cheek, getting touchy which pisses me off but again.. I can’t be mad.

I lay my head on Chris’s shoulder, feeling tired. I look over and Nick and Chris are already out like a light, so I close my eyes. We haven’t even moved yet. I feel Matt look back at me a couple of seconds before I start to hear lips smacking. There’s no way they’re fucking making out right now.

I open my eyes and lift my head from Chris’s shoulder to see them macking on each others mouths, I even saw tongue. I feel my body get hot and I feel like I can’t breathe. He doesn’t even have the decency to not do that in front of me. Even if he thinks i’m asleep, I still feel so disgusted and disrespected.

“Are you kidding me right now?!” I yell and I see them both get startled before looking at me in shock. I unbuckle my seatbelt grabbing my small purse and I open the car door stumbling out going back towards the party.

I fall on the grass since i’m still really drunk but I get back up and stumble towards the front door. I hear the car door opening and closing, matt’s voice following behind it. “Y/N!!”

He catches up to me and he grabs my arms. “Y/n, i’m sorry okay? We shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t thin-” he says, panicked before I interrupt him, shoving him away from me.

“Don’t touch me!! what the hell is wrong with you!!” I yell and I feel my nails digging into the palm of my hand from clenching my fists so hard. I could see the anger flush over his face when I shoved him, he grabs my forearms and holds them together firmly.

“Don’t fucking shove me! It’s not my fault you haven’t moved on!” He yells, still gripping my arms. I try to get out his grip but I fail. “I said don’t touch me.” I repeat, sternly. “I don’t care if you’re in a relationship, but you had to do that with me right behind you? I feel so disrespec-“ I add but I get cut off by him.

“You feel disrespected or insecure and jealous?” He snaps, in the same stern tone. Wow. “You’re an asshole!” I shove him again finally managing to get out his grip. “Why? because i’m right?!” He yells, after he stumbles back from the push. “Fuck you.” I slur, since i’m still very much drunk, my eyes watering. I see how my words weigh on him, but I don’t care at the moment.

I take in the night air, barely knowing why this is happening, the tears rolling down my cheeks making the cold air sting my face. He just stands there taking a deep breath obviously conflicted. This is the worst birthday ever. I should’ve stayed home.

1,951 words.

A/N: (this chapter is so long but I was so invested LMAO😭 Let me know what you guys think, it always helps me🙂)

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @chrissfleshlight @realuvrrr @stonermattsgf @pvssychicken @venusbabysblog @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @endereies @imwetforyourmom @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom @tsturniolo4 @urmom69lol @luzsturniolo @victoriasturniolo @ncm9696 @valkatriee @sturnslut1 @annielolz @sturnlover4eva @luzsturniolo @slxtarchive @anyaa2s @sturnzpro

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo angst

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lesservillain · 11 months ago

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—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week.

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone.

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you.

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself.

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face.

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor.

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief.

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle.

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again.

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all.

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone.

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner.

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening.

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening.

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself.

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more.

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents.

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him.

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light.

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light.

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries.

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode.

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most.

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.”

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence.

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day.

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress.

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever.

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour.

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup.

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label.

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later.

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights.

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day.

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them.

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson st #canon divergent #eddie lives #eddie munson lives #eddie munson slow burn

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