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whatifitis · 2 months ago

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♡ I knew it, I know you - FC 43 ♡

Based off the song: I knew it, I know you by Gracie Abrams

Summary: You and Franco dated but when things took a turn with your career, your world got turned upside down.

Author's note: i was told i should add additional parts to this plot so lmk if that's something you guys would like to see <3

WC: 3309

CW: fights, brief mention of a car crash, a bit of angst i think

You swore to god, you hadn’t thought of him in ages. But there he was, plastered all over social media as a driver for Williams for the remainder of the season in F1. The man who absolutely destroyed you. But you had also destroyed him. You had destroyed each other towards the end of your relationship.

You and Franco dated back when the two of you were in F2 and F3. The two of you had hit it off almost instantly, already so drawn to each other. You weren’t gonna lie, the two of you almost weren’t a thing. You are terrible at not only initiating, but also keeping conversations going. But the fact that Franco was so bold and carefree, he was able to stick with you till you opened up out of your shell, which was truly insane to you. And you’re grateful for him and everything he has done for you, no matter what went down all that time ago.

The two of you were always there for eachother, whether one was winning races or not. You would always scream the loudest when he won. Every single time he was on the podium, you’d be so incredibly proud of him, standing there watching in awe, tears streaming down your face. You’d never met someone so perfect.

He was so different from anyone you’d ever met. He was valiant, hilarious, strong, and so beautiful, on the inside and out. He knew you’d often struggled with your mental health and maintaining relationships, whether platonic or romantic. But he stayed, he actually stayed, through all your faults. He loved you anyway. He was the best thing that ever was yours.

But now it’s like he’s on another planet, you wonder how the weather is there.

While you were proud of him for making it to F1, you still couldn’t help but feel a bit of annoyance. The two of you would often talk about the future together. The plan was always to work your asses off and make it to F1 together. He was gonna be the first Argentinian driver in ages, and you were gonna be the first woman in ages to drive in F1. During this time, you guys were gonna save money and buy your dream home together. He’d always wanted a big patio where you two could do barbeques together, where he could bring his family. He also wanted a pool where everyone could enjoy their time together, away from the cameras and chaos.

But now those dreams are just that. Dreams.

The breakup wasn’t necessarily mutual or on good terms. Franco initially wanted to work things out and talk but you didn’t think it’d fix anything. Things were already getting rocky as your racing career was coming to an end. After a bad accident all those years ago, you weren’t able to get back in the car. And for that, you were so angry. Racing was all you could do, you didn’t have a backup plan. Your anger got the best of you and you were taking it out on those around you. Franco got the worst of it though wanting to do his best to help you, but all it did was make you feel pitied.

Things just kept spiraling from there, til you officially ended things with him.

It was the night after the F2 race in Monaco. You had been there the whole weekend, cheering on all your friends. You were making your way to see Franco but you were stopped by a journalist. You weren’t really in the mood to speak to a stranger but you decided it wouldn’t do any harm to stop for a minute or two.

The journalist was a young man, about your age and a bit taller than you.

“Hello, thanks for taking a moment to speak with me.”

You simply smile at him, still not feeling all that sociallike.

“I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.”“Sure. Hit me.”

“My first question is, how does it feel to have had to drop out of racing due to your crash back in Australia?”“Oh well, you know, it didn’t feel great. I’m super disappointed in my performance from that day and of course not being able to race again has been a big struggle. I miss it a lot, but there’s nothing I can do now besides keep going. I’m still gonna come to some of the races and cheer on and support my friends.”

“Amazing. Now, how does it feel to know you won’t be the next woman in Formula 1? To know that you’ve essentially let down so many women, young and old, with you leaving the sport?”

You were honestly baffled by that question. Why the fuck would he ask that? Who in their right mind asks that?

You seriously had no words, so you simply nodded your head and walked away.

When you reached Franco, he could practically smell the rage emanating from you.

“Amor, what’s wrong?” going to touch your arm, before you quickly pull away.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

Your shortness with him wasn’t new at this point, so he stayed quiet till you guys reached your flat.

Once you guys had walked in, he was quick to ask what happened at the track that led you to be stomping around with smoke coming out your ears. You told him everything that happened with the journalist, and he was nothing but sorry that something like that had happened to you. He knew how hard your transition was into a life without racing.

“Baby, I know things are hard right now, but we can figure it out. This isn’t the end.” Franco tried to reason with you. But all you could see was red, feeling an intense pressure and heat in your chest.

“You don’t even get it. My career is over, everything I’ve worked towards is gone. I have nothing left.”

Your words hit Franco, like a knife. You had nothing left? What about him?

“There are so many things you can do. We’ll find something that works for you. Stop being negative and actually try.”

“Fuck you. I am trying, you don’t understand how hard this is. Everything’s working for you. Your life is perfect and amazing. Stop pitying me. I’m not a child.”

Somewhere in the chaos in your mind, you had lost all sense of where you were and who you were talking to. All you knew was that you were screaming everything you felt.

Your mind was racing, you weren’t making total sense.

After the race today and having dealt with you these past few months, he was tired. He wasn’t gonna coddle you and go easy on you anymore.

“Well you’re sure acting like one. You need to grow up. Shit happens and you have to deal with it. Not everything will work out in life, you just have to deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say. Your life is perfect and you have everything you want.”

“If I had everything I wanted, then I wouldn’t have a girlfriend who’s giving up. I’d have a better girlfriend.”

What? Did he really just say that? I hate when we fight, sucks when we fight.

“I can’t pretend I’m sorry, when I’m not sorry. All I’ve ever done was my best when it comes to you and us. Unfortunately your girlfriend is awful.”

You looked him in the eye one final time, “Get out. We’re done.”

“That’s it? You’re gonna give up so easily?” he lets out a huff, “Typical of you to give up, again. Let me know when you’ve grown up.”

With the slamming of the door, he was gone. That was the last time you saw him.

After a few days of radio silence from you, Franco felt abandoned. He’d already felt lost when you told him to leave, the second the door slammed closed, he almost went back in through the door to fix everything. It felt as if you didn’t care about his feelings, like he’d been cut a thousand times. Franco actually struggled to keep it together. He didn’t realize how much he needed you in his life. He didn’t realize how he depended on you, on your support, your touch and how it kept him sane and stable when everything around him was just pure chaos.

It was hard for him to race after that day. And words could never describe how his heart hurt when he got called up to F1, when he got a seat. He immediately thought of you, he was living your dream after all - he couldn’t even share the experience with you, you weren’t by his side anymore. You were gone.

Until now.

Since that day, you have been working on yourself. You were in therapy now and continuing school to become an engineer. You thought, maybe since you can’t be in the car, you could work around it or with it. Things had been looking better. You started to surround yourself with love and support from your friends and family.

You were on a work trip in Texas, helping a company work on a new up and coming project that could be innovative, when you got a call from an old friend. Oscar had seen through social media that you were in Texas, and invited you to see the race at COTA. When he initially offered the invitation, you almost didn’t go since you didn’t think it’d be a good idea, considering how you and Franco had left off. But it had been years, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You would be able to go and support the rookies and maybe make up with Franco.

It’s not like you didn’t feel love for him anymore. Maybe you two could work things out and get back to where you were. So you told Oscar you’d be at COTA.

“That’s great! I’m so glad you’ll be able to make it. It’s been so long and I’m sure Lily would love to see you too.” “Omg, I’m so excited to see her again! I’ve missed her so much.” “Yeah. So, I’m sure you’ve heard. Franco is driving for Williams for the rest of the season, so he’ll be at COTA. Will you guys be able to keep it civil if you run into each other?”

“I can. I’ve lived a lot and I’ve let the rain in since everything. It’s just a matter of how he’ll react.” “I’m not gonna lie, I think he’s been waiting for an apology from you. Er, at least he did for a while.” “Yeah, he deserves one from me. I was pretty shitty to him, I know that now.”

“I’m glad you were able to sort everything out on your end, hopefully you two can be friendly again.” “Maybe. I gotta go, Osc. Talk soon.”

“Talk soon.”

The amount of various feelings flowing through your body was making you physically shake. You were excited, nervous, happy, and everything mixed into one.

You pull up Franco’s contact, thinking it’d be better to reach out and arrange a meeting rather than bombarding him at the track.

You must have typed and deleted about 50 messages before settling on a simple “hey”

Franco didn’t expect to see your name show up on his screen. He chuckled bitterly at the irony of life, bringing you back onto his path after being the one to send him away. He doesn’t even know how he feels about you anymore.

“Hey” he replied

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“I’m okay”

Three minutes pass, you simply just stare at the screen, not knowing how to proceed. You watch as three dots float on the corner of your screen.

“What do you want?”

Damn, harsh much?

“I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime this weekend? Oscar invited me to watch the race and I thought maybe we could talk. I think I’ve calmed down since the last time we spoke.”

“Sure. I don't know when exactly I’ll be available but I can text you closer to the weekend”

“That sounds good. Thanks for being cool about this.”

“No problem, see you soon.”

He was quick to cut the conversation. Maybe he's just busy. You decide to put your phone away and focus on some work stuff.

The weekend comes around quickly and you find yourself wandering around the paddock alone. You weren’t able to make it Friday, but at least you’re here for qualifying. You managed to get a few minutes with Oscar and Lando, catching up a bit before they had to get ready for qualis. You made your way to where you were gonna watch the race, texting Franco at the same time.

He was letting you know he’ll be able to meet up with you after the race today. You were so incredibly nervous because you wanted things to work out between the two of you. You missed him. He was your best friend, and you guess that was the worst part of losing him. If he just said when, you’d play again because you felt more in brief moments with him, than with anyone else.

You sat down and watched the qualifiers, screaming and cheering everytime one of your boys passed someone or did something impressive. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed this. Watching and cheering on your friends from the sidelines. It felt good to watch them achieve their dreams, even if you couldn’t reach yours. Franco ended up in P6, which was impressive considering he’s only raced a few times in an F1 car, and he’s in a Williams car.

After about 20 minutes, Franco texted you, letting you know to meet him in his driver's room. You made your way to his room after getting lost for about 8 minutes, when someone eventually felt bad for you and pointed you in the right direction.

You walked up the steps to his room, standing there for a minute, nervous about seeing him. It’s been about 2 years since you last saw each other. You wonder if he looks any different now. Of course you’d seen his pictures around, but sometimes the cameras don’t catch certain things. Like how his eyes are essentially a kaleidoscope of everything you’ve ever loved, how his nose crinkles a bit at the bridge when he’s happy.

Fuck it, enough stalling. You knock on the door and wait there for a response. After a minute, you don’t hear one so you assume you didn’t knock loud enough. You raise your hand to knock again when the door swings open. When it opens, your eyes quickly find his.

He looks deep in your eyes, trying to find a glimpse of the past in them, a recollection of the memories you shared together, but it’s like you’re not there anymore. Sure, you’re standing right infront of him, but the you that he knew, the one he fell in love with, is missing.

“Hey” he said softly.

“Hey”

You two stood there in silence for a moment, sort of processing that you’re seeing eachother again in person. As if your brains are trying to decipher whether this is real or a hallucination.

The silence breaks when Franco shakes his head and clears his throat,

“Come in.” he says, holding the door open for you.

You walk in, brushing past him.

The room is spacious, quiet, yet suffocating.

You walk to the middle of the room, feeling a bit self-conscious. Turning back to face Franco, you watch as he closes the door and turns his body to you.

“So’’ he says.

“So”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to catch up, see how you’re doing. A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other.” you look down, swallowing a gulp before continuing, wringing your hands together, “I also wanted to apologize, for everything. The way I had acted all those years ago, especially towards the end. I wasn’t being fair to you and all you wanted to do was be there for me.”

“It’s fine.” he replies, leaning against a counter, crossing his arms over his chest, not giving you an ounce of emotion.

The burning sensation he feels in his chest now isn’t love anymore - instead it’s a mixture of pain and anger, feeling a riot form in his emotions. He’s wasting time on listening to someone who kicked him to the side without caring about how you had let him down when he needed you the most.

Well, you didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t that dry and short answer.

“That’s it? I came all this way to come and see you and apologize, and all I get is ‘fine’?!”

“I said ‘it’s fine’ actually.”

Why was he being like this? You get that you fucked up a lot and that you had hurt him, but if this was how he was going to act, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue this conversation.

“Why did you even agree to talking to me, if this is how you’re gonna act?”

“How am I acting?” “Like you don’t give a fuck. Like you just wanna gloat, see how badly I was doing. You don’t know how to step outside yourself.” “You think so little of me? It’s not my fault you can’t sit with the hard thing.”

“Well when the proof is in the pudding then yeah. Are you even sad about the fact that we don’t talk anymore? That all we had is gone?”

“I’m not the one who ended things, you were. You’re the one who ruined us.”

“I blew all my plans, just to get to talk to you today. I’m trying to fix everything that I broke but you’re not letting me.” “Maybe you aren’t trying enough.” he says as he pushes off the counter and walks towards you, stopping a few inches from you. Close enough that you can feel each other's breathing.

“Not trying enough? Or not enough for you? For your deluded self?”

“I’m not the problem here, especially considering I’m the one driving in F1.”

“I should be the one with this chance, not you! All you have is an inflated ego and your shallow thinking.”

“I was the one who worked my ass off to get here. I’m sorry you couldn’t join me in this like we had planned, but it’s not my fault that things fell this way.”

“I should be in your seat, not you!”

“No, you don’t deserve this seat. I actually put in the work to be here.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I earned my way through those races. I was one of the best.”

“Keyword: was.”

“You know that crash stopped me from driving. I can’t get back in the car.” “Can’t or won’t”

“Can’t”

“No, you’re just a fucking pussy. You’re too scared to get back in the car cause you know you can’t do it. You can’t amount to anything.You know that even if you get back in the car, you’ll never get a seat in F1.”

You stand there for a beat. You never knew he could be so mean. Maybe you brought it out of him.

It’s all your fault. You’re the problem.

You feel the tears threatening to spill. You take a breath before saying, “I thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.”

He looks you up and down, lip twitching, “I guess I lied. I had the wrong idea about you.”

An all too familiar sight, his back, as he walks out the door, again, because of you.

You really thought you would get what you wanted. But what did you want?

#f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto angst

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lbxbx · 2 months ago

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Accidentally Yours 1 | JJK

Pair: Jungkook x reader

Summary: revenge never tasted that good when you decide to get back at the man - who ran you over - with the worst punishment he could ever get, and despite all the grudge, maybe some time after, the grudge will gradually turn into something else..?

Genre: e2l, biker jk, series ( a long one.), smut, fluff, angst.

Warnings: mentions of car accidents, mentions of fractured bone and hospitals, mentions of insecurities, cranky oc, mentions of drugs and money laundering.

Taglist open ‼️

Mood board 1 | Mood board 2

It’s a Tuesday night in October and it’s one of your usual work nights where your beloved routine takes place. It's nothing out of the ordinary really, it’s evening time and you had just finished creating your content and filming it.

You're standing in front of your vanity mirror massaging your face after your skincare routine, your phone buzzing a notification that your food order is ready for pickup so you rush to slip something warm on.

You weren’t someone born with a certain passion or ambitious enough to get a big degree, but you did manage to get a bachelor’s degree in accounting about seven years ago and you did get a job at a local company as a junior accountant, but it just wasn’t enough.

You’d get your paycheck and spend it only on necessities, it was enough money for you to survive, but never enough to get you the life you wanted.

You ran into a couple acquaintances a couple years ago and only three hangouts later, and you’d kill to be in their shoes.

Not only were they living the life you wanted, they owned the house you imagined having in your dreams, owned luxurious cars and hell even traveled places you’ve never even heard of before.

You thought you’d find a part time job and juggle with the one you had back then but it was impossible, and when you did the math, you’ll basically still be in debt.

Instead of taking a step forward you decided to take two steps back and just quit your job, you hated waking up early and hated the fact that you worked under someone, and the money wasn’t even worth it.

One of your friends suggested content creating, and you thought it through, you have nothing to film that people would be interested in seeing, nor that life that’s worth documenting.

“No idiot, I meant onlyfans.”

And it made you feel uneasy at first, but you remember your first night filming your very first video vividly.

You invested your last couple of hundreds of bucks and got a video camera, the shop even handed you a tripod as a “thank you for buying one of our worst cameras” and you ran back home to set it up.

And honestly the whole video was you faking an orgasm and attempting to make sounds that are supposed to get you an audience. And you proceeded to edit it into a short ten minute video and post it.

The app gave you an option on how much you could charge your audience and you chose to charge only five bucks for a subscription, you’re just testing waters.

Gotta say you weren’t really hopeful about it.

You showered that night thinking, what if this was actually it? You might have just changed your life with the stupid few minutes you just filmed of you putting on an act.

Not even 20 minutes later you head out and run back to your phone to find a SMS message from your local bank, oh my god this has to be it.

You hurriedly unlock your phone to read the message, but it was only a confirmation text that you had connected your account to this sketchy website, which made you sulk a little, but really what were you expecting.

Even when this was a little over two years ago you still remember the second you got your first subscription, and it was basically the day after your first video, and it was only 4 subscriptions ( basically twenty bucks. ) but you knew that this was just the beginning, and you knew you had to invest more into it if you were going to live the luxurious life.

And there you are, two years later, you did buy a penthouse in a luxurious neighborhood, you managed to make your first investment and bought a couple apartments that you rent out for college students, you also bought not one, but two freaking cars that are freakishly expensive.

Not to mention you now invite your friends to go hiking or traveling together.

And last but not least, your cat Coco who you adopted right away, every time you came home you look at her with heart eyes when she waits for you by your door, she curls up right by your feet and sometimes she would make failed attempts of jumping right onto you and you find it unbelievably adorable, sometimes she’d even fall asleep right by your keyboard when you’re uploading your content and she is irreplaceable.

Fuck the degree, this is the best decision you’ve ever made.

Back to now, you’re throwing on your pair of sneakers and grabbing your car keys ready to go pick up your fried chicken. “I’ll be right back Coco okay?”

Your stomach was growling you can hear it resonate through the elevator walls, you head out the security and they greet you warmly.

Not only because you’re the most humble out of all the residents, also because you’re the most generous out of them all, treating them for dinners and lunches and sometimes buying gifts for the cleaners, they adore you. Not to mention you were a generous tipper!

You head out the building to watch a young man feeling up your car, a helmet in his hand and his motor bike parked right beside yours, now you usually didn’t mind, until you see him checking out your license plate and taking pictures of your car, his hand is about to touch the door handle before you voice out. “Hey!”

As if his body was prepared, a surge of adrenaline rushes through his system and his heartbeat becomes rapid, he’s fully alert that you’re after him now and as a response for his sense of urgency or fear, he throws on his helmet and right when he’s about to get onto his bike, he bumps into your car accidentally making the alarm go on.

“Get back here.” You are seconds away from running after him but you know you won’t be able to catch up. He manages to gain his balance back onto his motor bike right away and drives it fast enough to disappear out of your sight in seconds. “Idiot.”

You take a quick spin around your car just to check on it before unlocking it and getting in and buckling up, the stupid guy is long forgotten when you hear your stomach growling again, you haven’t had a bite after breakfast this morning, so you rush to pick up your food order and go back home.

Being your own boss made a bit careless about weekends, every day was a weekend to you practically, you only waited for the weekends occasionally if you were hanging out with some of your friends.

It’s Friday and the neighborhood you live in gets quite busy on the weekend nights, people who live in this areas usually host cocktail parties and reunions on fridays, some times newlyweds rent out the near by mansions for their honeymoon and it does get a little noisy.

You were never a fan of traffic and you hated having to stay long in the car so you avoided leaving your place unless it was really urgent.

“So are you coming or not?” Your best friend Natty is on the phone, you can hardly hear her when music around her is so loud.

Your friends have decided on hitting the club to celebrate someone’s promotion but with the traffic outside it was impossible for you to leave your place.

Plus you have a schedule you have to follow and you have to post something tomorrow and you haven’t filmed the content yet, so basically you had to work tonight so you’re not going anywhere, or at least that’s what you thought.

“No Nat i’m afraid not, i have some work left to do and i’m waiting for the gate keeper to come over and wash my car.”

You can easily imagine her rolling her eyes when she speaks. “Ugh, i’ll pick you up, work can wait, you’re your own boss.”

“Enjoy your night Natty, i’ll chat about it with you tomorrow.” You hang up right away and open the app on your phone to figure out what’s the meal you’ll devour on once you’re finished.

And honestly Sushi sounds good right now, so with no second thoughts you choose the items you want and add them to your cart, before you get up onto your feet and head to your room.

The room you specifically had designed for this type of content, not like it’s that type of rooms, but accent dark walls and a large bed, with the camera set up prepared all the time on standby along with the lighting ready, and a storage compartment for your “tools” and outfits.

You’ve grown to adore this job, not only do you do it to make money, but you’ve made a great amount of online subscribers that make you love doing it just so you can have a chat with them.

You get changed and right before you hit record you made sure to hit the order button for your sushi, so by the time you’re done you’ll have your food delivered by your door.

It doesn’t take you over 30 minutes to make a clip that you know you’ll have a hard time editing ( which was basically the worst part ever. ) so you get up and make it to your shower to clean up and get into a comfy pair of pants and a sweater, it was freezing cold outside and even with your fireplace on you were still freezing.

A small pop up banner on the top of your phone screen showed notifying you that the order was ready for pickup, which you recall you asked for it to be delivered.

A few clicks and failed attempts to get it delivered it was practically impossible, so you slid on your pair of sneakers and grabbed your car keys. “I’ll be home soon Coco.” You pet her and smother her with kisses before heading out.

Looks like no matter how hard you tried avoiding leaving your house you were eventually coerced to.

The traffic was unbearable, not only was it a friday night, the holiday season was coming up in a month or even less and people couldn’t stay home even when there’s a blizzard outside.

You rush to get into your car and quickly shuffle your fingers over the buttons to heat up the seats and the steering wheel. The sushi place wasn’t that far away but why walk there when you can drive? Specially when snow was expected on the weather forecast tonight. Although walking there would’ve probably been faster.

On regular basis it would’ve been a 15 to 20 minute drive to the place but on maps it was clear enough that this ride will take at least 35 to 40 minutes.

Luckily you didn’t have to worry about the temperature of your food-

Although you tried to be positive about it but you most certainly have driver’s rage and it’s starting to piss you off that the lights turned green and people aren’t driving yet.

You would’ve flashed your lights at the cars if you were patient enough but you’re not, so you honk the horn repeatedly and you couldn’t care less if people judged you for honking this late at night.

It bothers you even more that bikers just manage to slip between the vehicles and just cross the lights that are turning orange by now and soon come to red.

“Will you come on.” You whine before unbuckling your seat belt and turning off your car, and right after you leave your car and close your door, you were seconds away to scolding the driver in front of you when suddenly a searing pain is felt on your lower half, you could quite literally hear something breaking as if your bone is tearing apart, it’s jolting inside your body and it’s hard to ignore.

As if your nervous system was on alert your hand subconsciously moves to your leg, your eyesight even wonders there wondering if you even still have your leg attached to your body, and you immediately feel nauseous and breathless, you’re pretty sure you’re about to pass out.

“Maam are you okay?”

Scratch that. You already did.

The engines of the cars and bikes ( specifically the one that ran over you ) suddenly feel far away and you no longer hear them, your eyelids feel heavy and you immediately lose consciousness.

Okay maybe it’s not that reckless of a life, on the verge of being 30 yet feeling like he hadn’t still lived his entire dreams, he insists on doing everything he wanted even if it costed him a fortune.

Of course, he wants to go explore somewhere new? He’d do it, even if he’s in debt, he knows he’d end up starving for the rest of the month, living his best life was a priority and frankly his priorities are severely off.

He wants to drive a boat? He’d do it, even when he’s positive that he’ll never own one but hey, it’ll be a fun experience. He’ll have to give up on a couple of things this month as well

Of course his friends are joining a bikers club, why not join it too? It would be great to own a bike. It took him nights to figure out what to give up next and the only option he has was his car and in his defense it made sense. With the money he can learn how to drive a motor bike and even own the newest yet coolest bike in town.

So? Of course he sells his car and gets the lessons and even owns one of the best remodeled motor bikes ever.

This bike was a legit babe magnet, his good looks helped too but the bike played a bigger role than he did, wherever he went he would get the attention, even when he washed his bike in the nearby gas station he would have girls drooling over him.

Actually one of his latest encounters progressed into having the lady as his backpack on his bike when he drove across the city to show her how fast he can go, of course he ended up in her bed

He’s a little more financially stable now after he settled for his bike, he would end up being in debt because his job doesn’t pay that well, he does photography for fun and it was initially his hobby, he doesn’t have that many costumers but when he does he gets paid well.

His obsession for luxurious expensive cars was endless, he enjoyed visiting luxurious neighborhoods just to check out the cars there, one of the recent cars he saw was the black mercedes suv that was parked in front of a skyscraper in the middle of city and it drew all his attention, and to his shock it was driven by a young lady like you, he panicked that night and quickly rushed to get onto his bike and drove away to avoid getting into trouble.

Your car was custom made to your desire with the options you wanted, so basically it is one of a kind and there are no other cars like yours.

And tonight was one of the numerous friday nights where him and his friends would go bike outside the city and to his luck he was really late, and traffic tonight was insane, so he put his helmet on and drove really fast to catch up with his people, he started gliding through traffic and slicing through the lanes, he can hear people cursing which he was used to at this point but he needed to get there like right now!

He was focused on the narrow gaps being sure to dodge the mirrors and people who were on foot, he was a really excellent driver even when there was barely a breath of space left between his bike and other cars.

His phone let out a familiar chime signaling a new message and it had caught his attention, he was aware that his phone shouldn’t make a distraction while he’s driving but when it’s his friend Taehyung sending him a different location stating that they changed their gathering point, he had to check it out.

“Fuck-“ he muttered and tried hard to focus both on the road and on his phone, when maps loaded and showed him the new spot he pinched the screen to figure out the where the alley was when suddenly he bumped onto something- or someone he wasn’t sure, his phone fell to the floor and he was close enough to fall off his bike, hearing people panicking around him he was pretty positive that he ran over a person.

He cursed on the inside and debated on whether to stop or just run, but he did eventually hit his brakes, the screech of his tires making a deafening sound, his heart sank when he saw an actual person dragged onto the floor, a lady actually.

A look of sheer panic on his face when he realizes that this is an actual accident and it’s making a really big scene amongst this entire traffic. “Ma’am are you okay? Someone call an ambulance!” Someone yells from behind and rushes past Jungkook to offer help.

People were pretty sure they heard the sound of your bones breaking even when the engines were loud but it was unmistakable, Jungkook kneels down to the ground mortified that you could probably be dead!

“Ma’am are you okay?” And to his luck at this point you completely passed out, going totally unaware of your surroundings. Which makes him panic even more.

Is it nausea hitting you or what? You’re pretty sure you’re awoken by that, you’re swallowing repeatedly when your eyes flutter open, your pupils stirred, scanning your surroundings abruptly.

Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar faces, the smell is horrific and it’s really noisy and bright around here

Your eyes feel heavy again, you blink several times unsteadily, your mind finding it hard to catch up with your body, are you paralyzed?

Your breath slowly becomes shallow when you start to panic, and you’re pretty sure you’re conscious now but you’re totally disoriented to everything.

“Ma’am, it’s okay you’re safe now, can you tell me your name?”

Your name? It takes you a few moments to piece together what your name was, this was the silliest question yet you are unable to answer.

You can talk, but you can’t remember.

Tears fogged your eyes and right when you’re about to shake your head you realize that you can’t, your neck is stabilized with a brace and something hurts when you try to move. “I don’t remember.”

Someone on the opposite corner of the room who was watching from a far almost passes out when he think he might’ve actually caused permanent damage to you.

Your tears roll down to the corner of your eyes eventually falling to your ears, you hate the fact that you’re unable to wipe your own tears.

You blink repeatedly and your heart drops when you actually see police officers above your head waiting to interrogate you.

You hear the team around you blabbering some medical terms that you find yourself totally ignorant of before you speak again. “What happened?”

“You got hit by a bike, the x ray shows that your leg is fractured and your knee was disloacted, we already put your leg in a cast and you’re likely to be given crutches, but you don’t have to worry at all, everything is going to heal with time and the right treatment, we’ll hand your folder to orthopedics when you’re out of here so you can follow up with them. As for now we need to get an MRI to help us get a clearer look of what’s going on.” He elaborated that it rarely happens when people temporarily experience memory loss but it was just a check up and you wanted to make sure you were fine too, and find out why on earth you can’t remember your own name.

Once the doctors disappear you see a familiar face hovering over your head, long dark hair covering his forehead and eyes that you cannot comprehend the feelings behind, is he someone you know?

“I’m truly sorry, i didn’t see you.” So is he the one that hit you?

“How long have i been unconscious?” You ask, your pupils still scanning his face and your surroundings, he grabs out his phone and takes a glimpse at his screen. “It’s been about four hours.”

A bunch of nurses come by to take you back down to do the scan and you know that the guy with the dark hair is still hovering around because he keeps asking if you’re going to be okay.

Once you’re prepped for the machine with a pair of earplugs the entire team leaves the room and you’re left on your own.

You know the image will take a while so you need to calm yourself down and try and relax, loud rhythmic banging is hear once the machine operates and you shut yours eyes tightly, even when you were never claustrophobic it feels like you are, it’s a little too small for your liking and it feels like you’re suffocating.

Focus on your thoughts, try and think of anything else!

Y/n, that’s right, this was your name. You slowly recall your bedroom and try and imagine what your surroundings were.

What happened and how did you end up here? Your phone, oh no your car, you were driving, something involved sushi of some sort.

Your body relaxes a little and even with the loud thumping that is loud enough to deafen anyone, you’re a little relieved to be finally able to remember something.

The scan took about an hour and it felt a lot longer than it is, you were rolled back on the bed to the emergency room and again you spot the guy with the dark hair.

You’ve seen him once, just dig a little deeper.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little hesitant, his doe eyes monitoring you from head to toe, “the doctors said the scan was perfectly fine.”

“Are you experiencing any pain?” The nurse walks closer with some meds on hand, she injects something into your catheter and moves even closer to take the brace off of your neck. “The scan went well, your neck is okay it’s just that your ribs and ankle are a little bruised, bed rest should help you heal right away.” She flashes a smile before asking. “Any pain?”

“A little, yeah.”

It seems like she injected something to reduce your pain because once you answer her you suddenly feel like you’re floating, your pain feels a little less intense and a little more distant, your breath feels a lot slower and your limbs feel extremely heavy. “I’m fine.”

You haven’t heard yourself talking but it was clear enough that you’re drugged and your thoughts were completely fogged and muddled.

“Ma’am this officer Choi and i’m officer Lee , we’re just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Sure.” You’re finally able to move your neck and turn towards the two officers who you believe were four or probably eight, you’re ready to pass out any second now.

They start asking basic questions, your name and how old you were, and what you did for living, and you outdone yourself when you said that you do your job online from home, not mentioning and giving any further details.

“Did you notice the bike approaching you?” He asks, the officer behind him writing his notes down.

“No, i didn’t see him at all.” You look at the guy with the dark hair, your eyebrows pulling together when you try and brainstorm where you saw this guy. And honestly it feels like a workout!

“Mr. Jeon ran you over with his bike and we’re still interrogating him once we hear from you, do you know him?” The officer asks. “A nearby station towed your car and Mr. Jeon gave them your address.”

Of course he did.

He’s the biker you saw checking out your car earlier this week. As if Jungkook can see how you’re processing your thoughts his eyes widen when you speak. “Yes, he’s totally after me, i saw him outside my building the other day.”

“Am not, officer she’s heavily medicated just ignore that.” Jungkook defends himself. “I’ve seen the car she drives a week ago and after i ran her over i realized that it was the same woman and the same car.”

“Mr. Jeon i’m afraid we have to take you down to the police station for further interrogation.” The second police officer puts his notes in his pockets and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Sir please listen to me, i promise i’m telling the truth, i don’t— I have no idea who she is.”

“Miss do you have anyone you can call? Like family or a friend? Mr. Jeon is the only one around and we need to take him over to the center, we just want to make sure you’ll be doing okay and safe with someone.”

“Do you have my stuff? I can’t see my keys and phone.”

“I have them with me,” Jungkook fishes out your stuff from his pockets and you scoff.

“Of course you do, now he’s stolen my phone and my keys.” You whine. “You broke my leg what else do you want?”

“For the record i was driving on the street like a normal person and you were walking, if you wanted to walk you’d do that at the sidewalk.” He arrogantly speaks while putting down your phone and keys on the stand next to you.

“And for the record, i saw the lights clearly turning red, you should’ve stopped, so not only you ran me over and broke my leg, you also crossed a red light.” You’re drowsy but you still have the power to argue, side eying the officer waiting for him to take note that this “Mr. Jeon” is double as guilty.

“We’ll run over the CCTV and check if what you’re saying is true.” The officer grabs your phone to hand it to you, “Can you call someone to be here with you?”

“Yeah, my friend Natty, she’s the first one on my contact list” you unlock your phone and lazily open the contact list to call her, the officer proceeds to take the phone and talk to your best friend while you lay in bed and struggle to keep your eyes open. Once the officers are a little distracted and their attention is averted away from you, Mr. Jeon takes a step closer with his arms crossed. “Can you please tell them i’m innocent, i’ll do anything you want, i’ll give you money.”

“How exactly are you innocent? I’m here because of you.” Your mouth automatically moves as if it’s the only body part disconnected from your brain,

“How much do you want? I’ll give it to you cash.”

“Hmm, can’t say i’m not intrigued.” You feign thinking before he blurts out. “You’ll take the money and just leave me alone.”

“Will your money fix my leg?”

He pauses for a second trying to think of an answer but you were faster. “Then no.”

“Please, i can’t go to prison, i was never there you can’t be serious.”

“Your friend is on her way here—” the officer walks back and hands you back your phone, an alert look on his face once he realizes that Jungkook was talking to you, a little paranoid thinking he might be offended you. “In the mean time Mr. Jeon we need to have a talk with you.”

You’re not sure whether is was a nap or some sort of coma, but your mouth feels dry and you’re a little groggy, you’re entire body feels lethargic and heavy and you’re pretty sure it’s the meds they’ve been pumping inside your veins for this entire night.

You take a glance at your surroundings and you’re still in the hospital this time in a private room, you feel extremely lost since you have no idea what time it is or if it’s day time or night time, once you turn your head to the right you spot a tall man wearing a dark leather jacket and holding a helmet in his right hand and a bouquet of flower in his left hand, his hair covering his eyes and a boxy smile on his smile that widens when you acknowledge his existence finally. “I’m sorry for bothering you- how are you feeling now? Any better?”

You start muttering words that don’t form a sentence before you clear your throat and decide to switch on your brain for once. “I think you’re in the wrong room—“

He flashes you a smile before tilting his head. “Y/n, right? I was told you’re in room 613.” He puts the flowers onto your lap, adjusting them once before picking them back up. “I should probably put those in some water.”

“Do i know you?” You can’t lose your memory again, it didn’t feel very pleasant the last time.

“Actually, i’m here hoping you’d do something awfully generous for me— i know we just met, and you cannot believe how extremely shocking the news were to me, i was really worried over you, but i’m worried more over my friend Jungkook who’s detained in the police station, they think he ran you over intentionally which believe me he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s an incredible man who was really worried for your well being the whole time you were knocked out— i mean passed out. However i really wish that you.. uhm..”

“Of course he sent you, listen sir, whatever your name is—“

“Taehyung.” He anxiously bites on his nails when he can sense rejection coming up from the way you’re speaking.

“You seem just as reckless as he is,” you glance at his helmet. “So if your entire biking cult begs me to let him out, i won’t.” You sternly speak, before blinking a couple of times. “Aren’t you guys a little too old for riding bikes?”

“Y/n, please, he’s willing to do anything for you right now.” He begs again, putting his helmet onto the chair behind him and putting the flowers back onto your lap. “He promised he’ll pay your entire hospital bill and even take care of you if he needed to.”

You’re a little intrigued, not the bill’s wise, you could easily afford that. But the idea of having him to serve you and do whatever you needed does sound tempting.

“Let me think about it, i’ll call the police station if i change my mind, but for the mean time i want you to leave please.”

“I appreciate it really, thank you so much, you’re so kind and generous—“

“Just leave Taehyung.”

“You did not.” Jungkook runs his tongue against his cheek before clenching his jaw. “I will not do that if it costs me my life!”

“Do you wanna get out of here or not?” Taehyung glares at the younger one before taking a look around them. “You don’t belong here, besides it’s just a couple of months and you’ll be over with.”

Jungkook’s face falls into his palms before he sighs. “i can’t believe you suggested that.”

“I can’t believe you broke the woman’s leg and ran her over.” Taehyung shrugs.

“If it weren’t for your message i wouldn’t be here.”

“You owe me.” Concealed anger filling your voice and you’re fighting every cell in your body to just not punch him and break both his legs in return.

He shifts in his spot and scratches the back of his head, trying hard to avoid rolling his eyes. “Look i didn’t mean to—“

“Oh i know.” You feign a smile. “Of course you didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

You turn to look at the crutches sitting in the corner of the room waiting to be used. “So here’s how things are going to go, you’re going to make this up to me for breaking my leg. Every. Single. Day. Groceries, cleaning, fetching my meds, cooking, you’re going to stay up the night on standby in case i need something. And Who knows, maybe you’ll learn how to be a decent human being along the way.”

“Listen woman—“

“What he meant to say.” Taehyung laughs awkwardly taming his best friend, “he’ll do it.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to babysit her?”

“Yes.” You answer instead. “Consider this as your punishment, it’s either this or jail, maybe you’ll have your license taken away for life then.”

A defeated sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips before he shuts his eyes, fully surrendered. “Alright i’ll do it.”

“Good.” You smirk, already plotting his next task, the taste of revenge was intoxicatingly good.

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amonsteronmaplestreet · 3 months ago

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Hi. My name's Seann. I'm writing this plea for myself, for my girlfriend Natalie, and for our guinea pig Edgar (full name Edgar Allen Pig).

Put simply, we are in debt. And at present, we can't get out of it. One these debts is Natalie's car payment, and if something isn't done about it immediately, we will be in serious danger of losing, well, everything.

Our Story

We moved in together about a year and a half ago. It was an exciting time. We love each other, and we were eagerly looking forward to truly starting our lives together. But a run of truly terrible bad luck started darkening our bright future.

First, and perhaps most dramatic, Natalie was trampled by a horse. She recovered, obviously, but the medical bills from her bruised and cracked ribs were a huge financial strain. Then more medical bills piled up less than just two months later: she was in a car accident. This left her car totaled beyond repair, and she ended up having to get a new one.

With her savings wiped out, we needed to work more to make to make up for it, but here's the catch: we both work with dogs. I'm an attendant at a doggie daycare and Natalie a groomer. The thing about grooming is that you need to utilize your upper body strength to lift up dogs and work with them, and with her injuries Natalie had temporarily slow down her work, which meant less money.

Still, we persisted. I ended up begging for money on Ko-Fi to make up the shortfall, but at last we got our apartment and the day of our move arrived. It was at this point, fate crapped all over us once again: when I walked out to my car that morning, it wouldn't start.

In fact, my car had completely broken down. I ended up unable to repair it. In the end, I had to scrap it and rely on the bus to take me to and from work. I have been doing this ever since we moved, and now a commute that should take twenty minutes takes anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half, and requires me to walk a mile every time, leaving me tired and exhausted every day, with little time left over for anything else.

But we have each other. And we have Edgar. And even though it's been a struggle, we've managed to build a life together.

I love her. I love her so damn much. And it kills me that I don't have the money or resources to support her as much as I feel she deserves. No one ever got rich at a doggie daycare. My other source of income is writing, which is even less stable and less lucrative. I've tried. I've tried so hard. But once more I'm here, begging for the generosity of strangers online.

Our Car

My work is directly on the bus route. Natalie's is not. Her job is out in the more wooded part of our area, where public transportation options are few and far between. I may be able to get by without a car, but she absolutely cannot. Her ability to continue working rests on having one.

Like I said, it's been a struggle. But there's been a light at the end of the tunnel. Recently, the owner of Natalie's shop offered her the entire business. She is now, as of just six days ago, the owner of her own dog grooming salon. I'm so proud of her. This is huge!

But just like when we moved in together, some new problem has arisen.

When it comes to dog grooming, right now's the slow season. Natalie's doing her best, but even her most optimistic guesses don't have the business picking up until 2025. We're barely making rent right now, and we've had to take on some extra debt to get by, and in all the chaos and struggling, she fell behind on her car payments.

Now they're threatening to take the car away.

What We Need

So here we are. I'm going to take on more debt, via my Affirm card, to cover what she owes. Or rather, a chunk of what she owes. I'm close to the limit of what's approved for my account. But if Natalie loses that car, then she can't get to work, and her new business will be done for before it ever had a chance.

Which brings us to this. Which brings us to today.

I chose to set the goal for this campaign at $6000. I do not expect to reach it. There are people out there who need the money far more than we do, and I have nothing to offer to anyone who donates. But we'll take what we can get.

We owe $1400 on the car. That's the priority. If by some miracle we can raise that much, I'll be eternally grateful. The remaining $4600 would then go paying off our debts. My pie-in-the-sky is that we can at least get enough to put a dent in what we owe, and lower our monthly payments to something more manageable. By then, hopefully, business will have picked up, and we can devote ourselves to building our future together.

Writing this has not been easy. I feel like an incredible failure. I've failed in providing security to the one I love, and that's always going to weigh on me.

But if any of you reading this can find it in yourselves to ease our burden, then from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

#gofundme #go fund me #signal boost

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sonotpattismith · 2 months ago

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my blues for my brain (megumi fushiguro x reader)

word count: 8.7k inspired by: fate by grey reverend content: angst, fluff, mentions of car accidents, hospitals, invisible string theory, me pretending gojo is still alive for my mental health

“Please don’t leave me here.”

These words were ones all too familiar to you, in an all too familiar scenario. The difference was, it wasn’t you clinging to life with blood soaked skin. Instead, it was the strange boy that had just raced out of the over-priced cafe that you worked at to make a dime during your summer semesters.

You could recall the exact, desperate words falling from your own lips as a good samaritan crouched in front of you just a few years back, your fingertips just a hair away from death’s door. In an act that would serve to veer you off any sense of understanding for your purpose in life, that person didn’t leave you to die, despite the chaos that was ensuing around him. When you woke, you had more questions that filled your prayers than thanks.

Why did you live if others had died the same fate that was allotted to your own life? There was meaning to everything that happened in one’s life— at least that’s what everyone told you when you woke in your hospital bed. What was the meaning of this though? Were you meant to find a new purpose in your life; was this meant to steer you in the right path? If so, why did you end up working a minimum wage job as you scraped up enough money for a college education you still had little to no clue what you wanted to do with yet?

Up until that day, as the pale stranger’s desperate grip on your hand slowly weakened with his waning consciousness, you were sure you had failed whatever god saved you all those years ago. As the man before you opened his eyes for the briefest of moments to beg for your mercy, you thought meaning had finally found you.

“You’d think for a café in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Tokyo that there would be a little more excitement in here every once and a while.” Your coworker droned as she stared at the front door, which hadn’t opened in exactly forty-one minutes. Who was counting though?

You shouldered into her with a half-hearted smile as you made yourself a mid-shift drink. Today’s choice happened to be a matcha latte, though you often switched it up for the sake of having something new to look forward to everyday. Peering back at her and then toward the hustle and bustle just outside the shop, you sighed dejectedly. What meaning did standing behind this counter for hours a day have? Perhaps you should be enjoying the life that was granted back to you so fortunately, you thought as you trailed an absentminded finger down the scar that ran down your arm.

Snapping from your haze, you offered her the most encouraging smile you could muster in the midst of your perpetual existential crisis.

“Staring at the door isn’t going to make customers appear.” You scolded, and she peered over at you with a bored glare, to which you chuckled lightly. “Quick, pick a syrup, and we’ll put it in my matcha to see if we’re horrible at our jobs or not.”

At this, an amused smile stretched across her face, and she quickly straightened up to look over the options. As you two bickered over which of you had more abysmal taste than the other, the rare chime of the front door interrupted your concocting session. The both of you snapped up like dogs who just heard their food bowl rattle in the next room.

Appearing slightly out of breath and frantic, a man stepped into the café. There was a determination in his step as he rushed over to the register and rested his hand atop the counter to lean in with purpose. There were prominent, pink scars lining his face, so large in size and quantity that you wondered what kind of trouble someone seemingly your age could have gotten himself into already. Forgoing your growing curiosity, you mustered up a welcoming smile.

“Welcome! Can I get—”

“Did you see anything strange passing around here just a second ago?” The two of you spoke at the same time, but he paid no mind to your cut-off question as he stared expectantly at you.

Your mouth slowly shut, brows furrowing in the process as you tried to recall anything that had happened in the last five minutes, but the only memories that surfaced were you trying to decide between lavender or hazelnut syrup.

“Maybe we have, but we reserve the right to withhold answers for paying customers, actually.” Your coworker chimed in with a mischievous smile, clearly just desperate for any business on this slower-than-usual day. The raven-haired man sighed indignantly.

“This is serious—”

“So is our no loitering policy.” You had to repress a tickled smile at her persistence. She smiled triumphantly as he grumbled and frantically fished a few spare yen from his pockets and slammed them on the table.

“A black coffee!” He growled his order at her before returning his attention to you, a scowl set deeply on his already intimidating face. Beside you, your coworker mumbled something in reference to his boring order before working to prepare it. “Now what did you see?”

You almost felt bad after the fact, that you could only pathetically shake your head at his question.

“I’m sorry, I really haven’t seen anything. What are you looking—”

A frustrated grunt from the disgruntled man cut you off, and before you knew it he was storming out of the café. An amused scoff escaped you as you watched him leave, and your coworker leaned against the counter beside you.

“Just our luck— we ask for entertainment, and we get crazy.” She commented with a shake of her head. “He left his coffee, too.”

This made you tear your gaze from the door to the lidded, brown cup she set down on the counter. His yen were still sat messily before you, and you suddenly felt bad for having coerced him into buying something. Peering out to see him speaking to a few pedestrians just outside the shop, you grasped the cup and exited your post behind the register.

“Hey!” You called out, ignoring your coworker’s questioning as you poked your head out the door. Sighing when he appeared too preoccupied to notice your calls, you prepared to try one more time as he continued his frantic trek through the bustling city. “You forgot your—”

The blaring sound of a truck’s horn sliced through your attempted good deed of the day, and you could only watch in stone-cold horror as the offending vehicle slammed into your distracted customer. His uniform-clad body jolted across the street with a velocity you had trouble keeping up with. Your eyes wouldn’t allow you to stop following the movements no matter how hard you tried though. The steaming cup in your hands slipped from your trembling fingers before splattering across the ground in tandem with the stranger’s blood across the street.

Vehicle’s horns were blaring behind the truck that had come to a screeching halt. Behind you, your coworker rushed out, shouting words you couldn’t process in your shell-shocked state. You watched with vast, unblinking eyes as his body finally rolled to a stop, and he twitched out in agony. With unwavering precision, you could swear you knew the exact pain that was coursing through his body at that moment; the fear that must be setting his wounds ablaze. It wasn’t that long ago that it was you, laying in uncertainty, at the mercy of whoever might have felt your life was worthy enough to try saving.

So, you ripped your arm out of your coworker’s frantic grip, and your legs raced toward the scene. The truck driver was stumbling out of the driver’s seat, a horror-stricken expression etched onto his features as you dropped down to your knees beside the barely conscious man. Blood coated the corners of his lips as he continued to weakly sputter up the substance.

“Oh my god,” You babbled mindlessly, hands hovering over him as you contemplated what to do. As if reacting to your voice, his head swayed in your direction, but his eyes remained shut. He was pale— dare you say even paler than he was when he walked into your shop just moments ago. “Call an ambulance!” You shouted at the truck driver, who seemed to be too shell-shocked to spring into action himself. Upon hearing your frantic order, he immediately began fumbling with his cellphone.

Turning your attention back to the stranger, you noted he was now struggling to pry his eyes open, a deep navy color squinting back at you.

“Can you hear me?” You questioned, fingers twitching with the urge to turn him on his side in an attempt to prevent him choking on his own blood. You didn’t know what was broken though, so you opted to carefully tilt his head toward you. He only stared deliriously up at you as blood began to ooze from the side of his mouth. “Is there someone I can call?

Megumi’s mind was in a state all too familiar to him though. It clung on the border between life and death, and, in the past, it was a constant struggle of whether or not it was worth fighting to get through. Now though, he was desperately grasping at the straws of his consciousness. It was his first mission by himself after the trauma his mind and body had endured during the Culling Games. After everything he’d gone through, all the battles he’d fought and the mental strife he’d worked through, this couldn’t possibly be how he left this world. A meaningless and pitiful death— is that what he would have to show for when his friends asked what became of him in the end?

“Hey, hey, stay awake, okay?” Megumi was pulled from his wallowing thoughts by the frantic voice above him, and it sounded as though he was under water, though it wouldn’t surprise him if there was blood in his ears as well. His lips parted, but all that left them was a strangled groan. Your fingers, still warm from his black coffee that had just been clutched in your hand, squeezed gently at his cheeks as though to rouse him from sleep. They slipped from his face and fell into his hand, giving his fingers a soft squeeze. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

Weakly, you felt his trembling fingers grasp back at your hand. You found yourself smiling encouragingly at him, though you doubted he could see it. The sirens of an oncoming ambulance had you looking behind you, and you could see the flashing lights in the distance cutting across the traffic. From your peripheral, you saw your coworker racing out toward you, pushing through the small crowd that had formed.

“He just— it came out of nowhere. He’s—”

“He’s suspicious as fuck.” She finished for you, concern pooling in her eyes as she grabbed your free hand in an attempt to tug you up. As you stumbled a bit, you felt the stranger’s cold hand grasp at your wrist, turning your attention back to him. “Let’s go, the ambulance is already here. This guy was probably caught up in some seriously shady shit.”

She was right, and you knew it. It was evident from the grotesque and oddly placed scars that lined his face, the strange uniform he donned, down to the odd questions and abrupt departure he had graced you with before the accident. Still, your memories of meeting the exact same fate kept you empathetically tied to his side as you peered down at him apprehensively. He opened his eyes once again, and it appeared as though he was mustering every last bit of strength he had left. His fingers wrapped around your wrist desperately as his lips parted to plea with you.

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was a cry that was so uncharacteristic of him, but he only knew one thing at the moment. The warmth of your hand and the soothing sound of your voice was the only thing tying him down to the land of the living. Without your grounding, he felt he may slip away, resigned to the fate he had just fought so valiantly to avoid.

The plea clutched at your heartstrings as the paramedics rushed to the scene. They were bustling around you, asking you questions while simultaneously shouting foreign terminology at each other as they immediately began tending to the situation at hand. Your eyes remained locked on the stranger’s as they slowly drifted shut, and he offered one last desolate squeeze to your hand before darkness seemed to consume him.

“Ma’am,” The gruff voice of the paramedic beside you pulled you from your trance, and it was then that you noticed the tear that slipped down your cheek. Blinking it away, you looked up at the man, still shell-shocked. “Do you know this man?”

“I…” Your words got caught in your throat as his final plea rang in your ears. Glancing up, you saw your coworker on the other side of the sea of medical personelle, shaking her had at you with wide eyes. In your palm though, the limp, cold hand of the stranger still lay. “He’s my partner.” You lied in a haze, watching as they prepared to carefully shift him onto a stretcher.

Your lie earned you a ride in the ambulance beside him, staring in an absent haze as the team moved like ants around him, peeling his lids back to check his eyes with a tiny light, cutting his shirt down the middle to check his vitals, prying an oxygen mask over his parted lips and expertly starting an IV on his limp arm despite the rustling of the fast-paced vehicle. They attributed your inability to answer any questions to your shock, which was partially true, but you also feared revealing your white lie to them with the wrong responses.

Police were awaiting you at the hospital when the ambulance came to a screeching halt. They questioned you about the accident and what you had seen. You complied easily, however couldn’t help but grow nervous once the staff at the hospital asked you to fill out paperwork on your ‘partner’s’ behalf.

The pen in your hand shook as you stared down at the first blanks.

FIRST NAME

LAST NAME

Of which you knew neither.

“Is everything alright?” The soft voice of a compassionate nurse questioned as she typed away at her computer, likely awaiting your information to complete his admission.

You looked up at her patient eyes, and you couldn’t hold back your lie any longer, explaining to her what had actually happened. Her slow nod made you feel guilty, as she thanked you for your honesty and explained the paperwork would be different now as they had no way to identify the stranger. He had no identification on him, and the cellphone they’d found in his pocket had shattered in the midst of the accident.

Perhaps you should have gone home after you’d given them all the information they needed, but you stayed in the small waiting room, anxiously bouncing your leg and chewing on your lip. As hours seemed to pass by, you’d perk up each time someone would come in, hoping any of the visitors would be coming to claim the stranger that was currently being tended to in the intensive care unit. They each came and went though, and you remained the only one awaiting him under the fluorescent lights.

Your eyes were beginning to burn when the nurse you had spoken to hours prior walked carefully up to you, that compassionate smile everpresent on her lips.

“I know there’s no relation, but I thought you’d like to know his condition is relatively stable as of right now.” She offered, causing you to sit up in the stiff, plastic chair.

“Thank you— really.” You sighed breathlessly to which she nodded in return. For a moment, you wondered if you were overstepping by asking for anymore details. Casting your eyes down to your lap, you chewed pensively on your lip. She seemed to take note of your bashful apprehension, smiling knowingly.

“You’re currently the only contact we have for him. There wouldn’t be a problem if you wanted to pay him a visit.”

So, with your fingers wringing nervously at the hem of your shirt, you followed the nurse through the unit and to the room he was occupying. Though you had seen first hand the damage the accident had done to him, you still had to bite back a shocked gasp upon seeing the various monitors he was hooked up to, as well as the clear tube running into his mouth and down his throat. You had endless questions for the god-sent nurse, but she had already mentioned that her shift was ending, so you didn’t want to hold her any longer.

“He hasn’t woken up yet, but they can still hear you, you know?” She explained with an encouraging smile as she leaned against the doorframe. Tearing your gaze from the various lines and tubes connected to him, you peered back at her in shock, but the nurse only nodded affirmatively at you. “It helps. Especially since he’s by himself.”

Following her polite goodbye with a promise that she’d be back on shift tomorrow morning, you were left alone with the stranger. It was silent in the sterile room, only the persistent beeping of his monitors filling the space around you. A shiver ran down your spine as if the below normal temperatures of the hospital were finally catching up to you as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“This would’ve been a lot easier if you had stayed back to drink your stupid, black coffee.” You began hesitantly as you circled the raised bed. Pursing your lips, you slowly sat down on the chair beside him. Toying with the end of the blanket that hung off the bed, the ragged rise and fall of his chest caught your attention, and you wondered how much of it was thanks to the tube running down his throat. “I wonder if you ever found what you were looking for.”

As an assistant came in to check on him, you peered awkwardly down at your lap while they checked his vitals. Once done with the routine checks, you watched her move the blanket back over him and gently adjust certain chords to settle more comfortably around him. It made your heart warm that they seemed so attentive to his comfort, even if he wasn’t conscious enough to notice. You thanked her quietly as she departed from the room.

“You know the nurse’s assistant was the only one in the room with me when I first woke up after my accident.” You explained to the unconscious man before you. A fond smile settled onto your lips. “My parents had stepped out for a while just to get some food. Just their luck, huh? He held my hand while I was waking up so I wasn’t all by myself. It meant the world to me.”

It felt as though Megumi was trapped right back in the barrier between his mind and his soul— helpless to find an escape. This time around though, he had more of a will to fight. There was no way he had gone through everything and exhausted his mind, body, and soul, all to meet his demise because he didn’t look both ways before crossing the damn street. Another part of him wondered if this was fate granting him mercy. Perhaps if he didn’t die here, hooked up to all these tubes and machines, his cards held something sacreligious— a gruesome and grotesque death rather than the comparably mundane one that had befallen him. After all he’d been through, maybe this was blissful; the only happy ending that could be promised to him.

As he lay in that strange veil of unconsciousness though, as if at the bottom of a pool, looking up and barely able to see the sun’s light poking up from the surface— someone was there with him. Your voice sounded as though it was just above the feet of water that separated him from life, muffled but still familiar. It was the same voice that had coaxed him into trusting his body to let go, not knowing whether or not it would be strong enough to reemerge again.

His brows furrowed— that he could feel, and he willed himself to swim up to the surface as the soft hum of your tired rambling filled his ears. Why were you here? Why were you still here? The sorcerer needed to know, and the urge pushed him to keep struggling against the surface pressure that weighed him down.

You weren’t sure how long you had sat there mindlessly babbling to the unresponsive man. Wariness was beginning to weigh down on your eyes and shoulders though, likely because you had been up since four that morning to prepare for your shift. If you stopped talking, you thought you might flop over and pass out yourself. He couldn’t be by himself when he woke up, you determined.

Some staff had come in and dimmed the lights in the room what seemed like hours ago, so they weren’t so harsh in your tired eyes as you tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling while spewing out anything that came to mind.

“My coworker finally texted me, you know. She said the only weird thing that passed by the shop today was you. Are you in some kind of gang? It would explain the uniform and all the…” Your rambling slowly died out as the sound of sheets rustling filled your ears. In an instant, you were sitting up properly in your uncomfortable chair. His hand twitched against the sheets, and you breathed out in anticipation as you watched his face contort in discomfort. The chair you had been occupying for hours slid back as you stood up abruptly to get a closer look. “Hey— can you hear me?”

Megumi forced his eyes open with what seemed like all the energy left in him. He half expected to be in Shoko’s infirmary with his friends hovering obnoxiously over him, or even in his room where he’d awake in his bed and realize he’d dreamt the entire scenario. The blinding, white ceiling tiles above him were different from the ones he’d grown accustomed to over the years though, and the dull ache radiating through his body served to remind him that he certainly hadn’t been graced by any reverse cursed technique.

Those mysteriously dark eyes stared incredulously up at the ceiling, and you could see the confusion begin to morph onto his features. All too soon, that confusion shifted into panic as he tried to speak, only to be met by the grueling realization that there was a tube shoved down his throat.

“It’s okay!” You quickly reassured, placing a careful hand on his shoulder to redirect his attention. With the little he was able to move, his eyes shifted as fast as he could manage to look at you, wide in subtle horror. You took your eyes off him for a second to push the nurse call button to alert them of his waking. “You were in an accident. You’re in the hospital.”

As he peered down at the state of himself, he only seemed more unsettled. You figured it was the mangled state he was left in that freaked him out, but what was going through his head was the mission he’d left behind, along with the curse that was likely still running rampant. Still, his inability to speak paired with his limited mobility certainly didn’t do much to settle his nerves. You watched him become more agitated as he attempted to move each limb to no avail, likely thanks to the arsenal of drugs coursing through his veins.

“It’s alright, you’re okay.” You insisted, peering out the open door to see if the nurse was nearby. Looking around the room, you left his side for a moment to quickly snatch up a marker from the white board on the wall. You uncapped it and placed it in his hand, securing his weak grip around it before offering your arm. “Is there someone we can call? What’s your name?”

As he stared incredulously down at your offered up arm, your questions were a jumbled mess in his disoriented mind. All that kept running through his head were questions of who the wide eyed, eager girl at his bedside was, and why her voice had been the only thing he could recall from his supposed accident. Megumi’s fingers trembled as they fought to lift up the marker. A muffled grunt escaped him as he tried to get a grip on it, and it clattered to the floor along with the last string of his patience.

The sound of the marker clanking against the squeaky clean floor rang in his ears, taunting him in his weak state. Just as he began his attempted thrash against the scratchy sheets, the nurse finally stepped in, picking up her pace a bit as she saw the state of agitation he was in. In an instant, she was dialling someone for help, though you couldn’t be bothered to listen to her, desperate to get any answers out of the stranger. Once again, you offered up your hand to him, placing his fingers against your awaiting palm.

“Trace it on my hand, something—”

“Don’t push him.” The nurse urged as more staff members seemed to flood into the room. She was maneuvering over to the line of his IV with a syringe as she attempted to deescalate the situation herself. “He wasn’t supposed to wake up; if he becomes too agitated he can injure himself further.”

“Wait—” You attempted to stop her as she pushed what you assumed was something to calm him down into his line. Logically, you knew it was in his best interest, however your gnawing curiosity had you hoping he would stay conscious for the least bit longer to provide any answers. It only took seconds though, as the drug flooded his system, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to settle back against the flat bed. His eyelids moved torturously slow as he blinked hazily, and you knew the opportunity had found its way to evade you.

“I-I’ll wait outside.” The dejected reminder fell from your lips, though you were sure the staff were too occupied to pay you any mind. Just as you moved to get out of their way though, the stranger’s weak fingers laced around your hand. With the waning of his already deplorable strength, you felt the pads of his digits press against you, urging you to stay. Looking up with a quiet gasp, you found his half-lidded eyes on you, a desperation in them that seemed so misplaced on his hard features— even if you didn’t know him.

Megumi thought maybe if he held onto the now familiar presence that had been beside him all this time, that it would be the one thing to keep him alert enough to continue pushing through the haze of his unconsciousness. Whether it was your continuous, honied voice that pulled him from his drug-induced coma, or the fact that he’d pulled himself out of the depths of chains much stronger than the pharmaceuticals currently in his system, he didn’t know. What he did understand, was that your gentle fingers brushing against his knuckles was practically the only thing he could still feel, and it brought him a comfort he was not prepared to surrender just yet if he were to be pulled under again.

So, you clung on to his hand as his eyes slowly shut, bleary irises focused on you till the very end as the staff bustled around the room and spoke with the doctors. Even as you felt your own lids growing heavy that night in the darkness of the intensive care room, you couldn’t bring yourself to untangle his fingers from yours. Unable to fight the gravity that weighed down your body to remind you you had been up since four that morning, your head slumped forward and rested on the edge of the bed beside your conjoined hands.

You hadn’t the energy to think about how odd you may have looked clinging to a complete stranger as you snoozed. Instead, the embarrassment hit you when the kind nurse from the previous day, seemingly having recently clocked in for her shift, gently woke you the next morning with a prepackaged breakfast sandwich. With burning cheeks, you used your free hand to frantically smooth your disheveled hair down and wipe at your under eyes that were undoubtedly smeared with yesterday’s makeup before accepting the food with a shy but grateful smile.

You waited for her to finish her morning checks on her patient before tearing into the sandwich as your rumbling stomach was demanding of you. In the meantime, she updated you on his condition with jargon that you tried hard to keep up with, but it was offensively early in the morning. Nodding along, you suddenly wished you had paid more attention to all those hospital dramas your roommate used to watch incessantly. A relieved sigh escaped you when she departed, letting you know to press the call button if you needed anything.

“You’ve really gotta get it together soon, dude.” You commented through a mouthful of bread as you peered over at him thoughtfully. At the very least, you thought, his hand seemed warmer than it had yesterday, and you could only hope that was a good sign. “This hospital food sucks.”

Tossing the wrapper into the small trash bin nearby, you huffed out a sigh. Leaning in closer to him, you hesitantly pushed the thick, black hair away from his face, brushing it gently back against his scalp. A gulp forced its way down your throat at the sight of the thick scars that lined his eyes, and you found yourself carefully brushing against them with baffled curiosity.

“Who are you?” You whispered, and for a moment you could swear his brows twitched into a furrow.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s bad luck to cheat death?” A smoothly amused voice beckoned from the doorway.

You instantly flinched away from your hovered state over the stranger, the hand that was grasped in his tightening in surprise as you looked up. Leaning against the entry was a tall man that nearly took up the entire door frame. His hair was a striking white that almost rivaled the blinding lights of the hospital room. Though concealed behind dark-rimmed sunglasses, you caught a glimpse of his startling blue eyes as he seemed to tilt his head in amusement at the scene before him. What captured your attention most of all though was the uniform he donned— one nearly identical to the one the mystery patient had been wearing during the accident.

“Geez, after all you’ve been through, and a truck is what takes you out?” The man’s quip was this time directed at the John Doe, shaking his head with a smile as he slowly strolled into the room.

“You know him?” You breathed out in relief, watching the fond expression on the man’s face as he scanned over the injuries.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, he’s my student.” He responded casually, hands shoved into his pockets as he circled the bed curiously. “I assumed he was just ignoring my calls. Go figure, huh?”

The casual lightheartedness in his tone only served to confuse you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that of all the people that came to claim this stranger, his teacher was the first? On top of that, how was he not brimming with concern upon finding the student he seemed so close with in intensive care? Your eyes skimmed down the strange uniform on his long body, lingering just a tad too long on the swirled button on his chest.

“So, what’s the deal? You a girlfriend he didn’t tell anyone about?”

Snapping up from your trance, you felt your face heat at his accusation, and you quickly shook your head. The corners of his lips twitched up in amusement.

“I saw the accident happen.” You explained, allowing your gaze to drift back down to the patient. The edges of your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you recounted the events of the last twenty-four hours, and you were struck by the absurdity of it all. “He… he asked me not to leave— you know, before he passed out.”

“So you didn’t?” His question sounded more like a statement, you noted. You nodded with a soft sigh. Peering up at the teacher with a pursed lip, your free hand reached up to graze the oddly-shaped scars on your upper arm.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just… was in a similar accident not too long ago. So, I empathized with him— that kind of fear, you know?” You felt the need to explain it to him, as you were sure you looked like some sort of stalker at the moment. The man didn’t respond, peering pensively down at you for long enough to make you squirm in your seat. “I guess I should go now.”

A wave of unnecessary guilt crashed in your chest as you slowly stood from the chair you had been in for countless hours. Giving once last, lingering regard to the unconscious man, you gulped down the confusing lump in your throat and smiled softly.

“I hope you find whatever you were looking for.” You whispered, gently sliding your hand from his and placing it carefully over the blanket. Nodding respectfully at the man who had been silently watching the entire encounter, you began walking toward the exit. As you hand grazed the door frame, you turned around apprehensively to find the white-haired man already peering back at you knowingly. “What—What’s his name?”

With a fond smile, the man looked back down at his student as if to say we have a lot to catch up on when your ass wakes up before looking back at you.

“Megumi.”

His name rang through your mind in the droning days that followed your fated encounter. With every order you rang up, his frantic entrance replayed in your head. Each unfruitful study session paved way for the cinematic replaying of his awakening, projected onto your imagination over and over until it became your favorite film that lulled you into relentless, insomniatic nights.

You wondered if his condition had improved, if he had left the hospital, if he was wondering about the girl who he clung onto at his most vulnerable. As the days dragged on, and you wistfully poured out a customer’s black coffee, you realized you had left those answers behind in the hospital room that morning. Still, the more logical part of your mind told you it was for the best given the concerningly curious circumstances of his accident. Additionally, the equally mysterious man that had come to claim Megumi only fanned the flames of your suspicions.

Despite the impending sense of danger that came each time that supposed teacher’s words rang in your head—

“After all you’ve been through, and a truck is what takes you out?”

You weren’t sure if it was your concern over his recovery, or the gnawing curiosity about the life he led that had you walking back into the hospital almost a full week later. Whichever it was, it was strong enough to push down the nerves fluttering in your stomach as you walked up to the familiar reception front desk. It was the same woman that had you fill out the paperwork when he was first admitted, and, despite it taking her a bit, she remembered you.

“Listen, I’m really sorry, but the process isn’t as easy now that someone signed his paperwork. I can’t disclose any information to you.” She explained apologetically as you slumped forward on the cold desk. There was a certain sorrow in her eyes as she watched you sigh in defeat.

“I mean— could you just tell me if he’s okay?” You pleaded, already dreading the thought of having to leave that day with no answers.

“I wouldn’t even be able to confirm or deny that that patient is still in our system.” It seemed it was upsetting her just as much to deny you, and it wasn’t your intention to make her job anymore difficult than it was. “I wish I could have been of more help to you.”

You nodded in silent understanding, offering a grateful smile nonetheless as you pushed off of the desk to take your walk of shame out of the building. Perhaps it was a sign; the thought fleeted into your mind on what seemed like the endless trek to the door. This denial was the closure you needed to move on from this bizarre, chance encounter that happened to mimic one you witnessed firsthand just years ago. In stark terms, whatever seemed to be lying at the bottom of the mysterious well that was Megumi— wasn’t your business.

In the same notion though, maybe it was fate that that oddly large, white haired man was strolling into the very doors you were trying to exit, coffee and a paper bag clutched in his causal grip. Your mouth opened and closed as you looked up at him, unsure if he’d even recognize you or care enough to acknowledge your being there. As if sensing your silent stare, he glanced up from his phone for a moment, doing a small double take upon seeing you.

“Pick up another straggler?” He teased, sliding his phone into the pocket of his uniform with a known smirk. His head tilted toward you. “What was it this time? Just so happened to be around when they mysteriously fell out a window?”

Despite the fact that his seemingly playful nature was making you feel more comfortable, you still couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face. Attempting a breathless chuckle, you smiled nervously at the man.

“The hospital should start paying me commission, huh?” You quipped with apprehensive amusement. A short but genuine laugh broke through his teasing facade, and he nodded for you to walk with him. Pushing past the slight shock of how easily this was going for you, you stumbled after him.

“I’m assuming you’re not here to see me?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you watched the bright tiles passing under your feet as you followed him through the hospital. Once again, you were hit by the realization that you were meddling in something you seriously had no business in. Still, the nonchalant man leading you through the hallways didn’t seem to have any sort of reaction to your curiosity.

“I’m really sorry if I’m overstepping, it’s just been kind of eating me alive.” You confessed with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, our little overachiever isn’t in intensive care anymore.” He informed with an almost proud smile.

“Really?” You didn’t intend to sound so relieved, but it was an almost instantaneous reaction.

“Yuuup. Officially graduated.” He confirmed as he wiped mock tears from under his sunglasses. “Go see for yourself, his room’s right here.”

As he stopped in front of a cracked open door, you hadn’t even realized the man had been leading you to pay Megumi a visit. Glancing up at him unassuredly, you didn’t have a chance to ask if he was sure before he was waving you off nonchalantly.

“Actually, if you don’t mind taking my stuff in there.” The teacher requested, not giving you a chance to protest as he shoved the coffee and bag into your hands. “Forgot my phone in my car.”

Your brows furrowed for a moment, cause you could have sworn you had just seen him slip the aforementioned phone into his pocket just as you ran into him. There was no time to question it though, because in an instant, his freakishly long legs were traversing him back down the way you came in. With a barely noticeable huff of disbelief, your gaze drifted to the cracked-open door in front of you. You shook your head before pushing in anyway, trying to be mindful of the nearly overflowing coffee cup that was desperately trying to spill onto your hand.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath with a flinch as you felt a scalding drop offend your skin.

“You’re not Gojo.”

“Shit!” You repeated with a start, posture jolting up to face whoever it was that damn near just sent you to the afterlife.

What you hadn’t expected to see was the very awake and very alert Megumi sitting up in his hospital bed. His mouth was free of the tube that once restrained it, though you could still hear the after affects of it in the rasp and crack of his voice. In fact, the only thing he appeared to still be connected to was an IV pole and what looked like a heart monitor.

You could have killed the tall stranger, whom you presumed was the Gojo character he was talking about, for not thinking it important to warn her that Megumi was no longer unconscious before you waltzed into his room so nonchalantly. In truth, you expected to drop by, see with your own two eyes that the man hadn’t succumbed to his injuries, and be on your merry way.

“Ow! Fuck,” You were babbling at this point, pacing around for anywhere to put down the damned coffee cup that had just scalded your hand in tandem with your startled jump. The black haired man watched you silently, almost moving to get up to help you before he remembered the brace that wrapped his right ankle. “I’m so sorry— I had no idea you were awake.”

Your frantic apologies continued spilling from your lips as you ran your stinging hand underneath the sink that sat in the corner. You did it partly to soothe the pain, but another part of you just didn’t think you could face the poor man after completely invading his privacy.

“That weird guy with the sunglasses told me to come in, but then he just—”

“You were the one that stayed with me after the accident, right?”

Unable to gage the flat tone in his voice, you slowly turned the faucet off before finally turning to face him. In the time you hadn’t been looking, it seemed he had pushed the hair out of his face, and he was sitting up a little higher in the bed than you remembered. The book in his lap laid open and forgotten, his large, dark eyes focused intently on you.

“Uh, yeah.” You admitted softly, wiping your hands nervously on your bottoms. “You were outside the cafe—”

“I remember.” He stated flatly, making you bite down harshly on your bottom lip. Megumi was coming off as rude, guarded, irritated— he knew he was, but he couldn’t for the life of him gather his thoughts well enough to express the gratitude he felt for you. Even more so though, he couldn’t possibly bring himself to understand the curiosity and fondness that had been festering over the past few days in your absence.

A silence enveloped the room, and you suddenly wondered where the hell his teacher was— desperate for anything to break the tension.

“Well, I should probably go.” You finally mustered out, setting the bag and cup down onto the counter before turning to leave. “I-I’m glad to see you’re doing better. Sorry again to—”

“Wait,” Megumi urged, leaning forward so quickly it had him wincing with the pressure on his injured ribs. Your hair swayed as you whipped your head back at him in question, and you thought you saw the slightest pink hue on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m… on a lot of meds. You don’t have to leave.”

His excuse made your brow slowly quirk up, an amused smirk barely concealed on your lips. Attempting to push down your amusement, you pursed your lips and glanced out the door for any sign of Gojo’s return. Upon seeing only the hospital staff bustling around, you slowly made your way over and sat down on the chair beside his bed. For a moment, the two of you simply stared at one another in silence, both of you unsure of what to say next.

In your brief study of his now conscious face up close, you noticed each sharp feature of his, from his straight nose, to the strong line of his jaw. Somehow, despite their dark hue, his wide eyes seemed to soften his face even if just minimally with every caress of his long, thick lashes against his cheekbones. You wanted to avert your eyes to stop the incoming flush in your cheeks upon the sudden realization that Megumi was incredibly attractive, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away.

In a last ditch effort to preserve any dignity, you were grasping at straws to say anything.

“What were you look—”

“Why did you stay?”

The both of you began simultaneously, but his question made you clam up. There wasn’t malice in his tone, but a raw curiosity instead, an urge to understand. His brows were slowly settling into that familiar furrow you remembered seeing on his sleeping form constantly.

“I— You asked me to.” You answered simply, your voice quieter than it was before. A small huff of breath raced out his nose at your response.

“So you just do whatever strange men you just met tell you to do?”

“I think I preferred you when you still had a tube down your throat.” You laughed breathlessly, a little shocked at the sass that emanated from the seemingly reserved man. Almost immediately, he rolled his pretty eyes at your comment, but there was a ghost of a smile threatening to assassinate the cool-boy persona he had built up.

“Why did you stay?” Megumi asked again. There was more conviction in his rasped tone this time. Subconsciously, your hand creeped up to grasp at your scarred upper arm, and he followed the motion intently. His gaze narrowed slightly at the raised skin, a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes as he continued to stare.

“Two years ago, I was in a similar accident. There was all sorts of hell breaking loose in the city, so I didn’t think anyone would help me, you know?” You recounted with a sad smile, feeling your breath tremble at the memory. “I still don’t know how they got me out— some guy that was around. He almost ran right past me. I never got to thank him, or ask him how he got me out from under the car. I was already in the hospital when I woke up.”

He processed your words for a moment, blinking slowly down at your scar as the puzzle pieces seemed to click together in his mind. It sounded too familiar— just as the marks on your arms were ones he’d surely seen before.

“And that scar— you got it from the accident?” He assumed, though he already knew the answer. You nodded, looking down at it yourself and allowing the tips of your fingers to trace each curve. The corners of his lips twitched up on their own accord, eyes softening with the revelation that fate had always been on his side. “Kind of looks like a bite.”

There was a subtly bemused tone in his voice. You didn’t quite understand where it was coming from, but as you inspected the mark closer with this perspective, you hummed in fascination.

“I don’t really see it.” You mumbled.

In an instant, his fingers had reached out to fold gently around your arm. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him in surprise, but he was still focused on your mark with a soft fondness. Swiping his thumb over the raised skin, the pads of his fingers mapped out the familiar canine marks of his demon dog.

As if the feel of it ignited his memory, he could almost perfectly recall the sight of the large hound tearing through the wrecked car as Megumi exorcised the curse that had been at the cusp of the mangled traffic jam. Working on his command, the boy watched as the dog emerged, dragging a girl out of the rubble by her arm. The skin around the bite was already bloodied and bruised, but you certainly still had more of a chance of survival than you had before the damned bite.

At once, there was an understanding in his still foggy mind that the machinery of right and wrong he had grown accustomed to over the years was far more prophetic than he ever cared to give it credit for. It didn’t matter what reason you gave him for staying by his side that night, because he already understood it wholeheartedly on a much different level than he had anticipated. Megumi had always been the type to search for reason in his own kindness while cynically picking apart the kindness of others. After all he’d been through, perhaps this was the final nail in the coffin of his nihilistic pattern of viewing his moral compass.

“See, Megumi? I told you your knight in shining armor would come back for you!” That familiarly sarcastic voice that you had now been able to name Gojo, had the both of you flinching back from the unexpectedly intimate moment. Megumi’s face seemed to sour instantly as the man strolled into the room with a wide smile. “This kid was driving me insane, asking me about you as soon as they pulled that tube out of his throat.”

The patient grumbled, and if he had more strength and less shit hooked up to him, he would have thrown a pillow at his teacher. Glaring dangerously at him, Megumi swatted his hand away as the older man began to ruffle at his hair in mock affection. Despite his clear mortification, you smiled amusedly at the scene before you.

“Thanks for looking after the little guy for me.”

“I’m starting to think I should get a job here.” You joked back as you stood from your chair. You looked back at Megumi, who’s hard gaze was slowly melting into subtle confusion as he watched you rise. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

You bowed in thanks to Gojo before making your way to the door.

“You’re leaving?” Megumi stopped you at the exit for the second time that day. Had you looked now, you would have caught the deadly glare he shot his sensei’s way for ruining the moment.

With your hand on the door, you turned around to offer him a warm smile, one that had his shoulders slumping forward as if enveloped in the most welcoming of blankets.

“Gotta get to work.” You explained regretfully, chewing on the inside of your cheek. In a spark of confidence that was surely spurred on by the fact that you still had endless questions for the man, you continued with a bashful grin. “But you know where to find me. Maybe you can actually stay for your order this time, hm?”

Gojo almost had to turn away to hide the laughter bubbling in his chest upon seeing the dumbstruck expression on Megumi’s face as he could only muster up a small nod. You found yourself nodding along with him.

“I’ll have your order ready.” You teased with a wink. “Black coffee, right?”

The boy breathed out in disbelief, watching with pink tinted cheeks as your hair swayed behind you while you took your leave. He wished with everything in him, since fate seemed to be playing so mercifully with him these days, that his ankle would miraculously heal in time for him to chase after you to catch one more glimpse of your glittering eyes and incandescent smile. Perhaps he had already had his fill of fate’s luck for one lifetime though, because he could only remain seated dumbly on the hospital bed, jaw hanging down just a hair as he breathed out.

“Right.”

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itsharleystuff · 1 year ago

Text

╰─▸ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

‘ I just wanna be one of your girls tonight ’

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rockstar!Joel x afab!fem!reader (no outbreak alternative universe).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend’s boyfriend has an older brother that turned out to be the guitarist of a famous rock band from the 80s. You meet Joel by accident before his concert and things take an interesting turn.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (Joel is 48, reader is said to be in college tho her age isn’t specified), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, sex with a “stranger”, a bit of dirty talk, oral sex (f), use of ‘slut’, praise, mirror sex, fingering, some oral (m), cum eating, reader calls Joel an ‘old man’, smoking (they share a cigarette), pet-names (sweetheart, darling, honey). Also, I know nothing about guitars or concerts so this is probably very inaccurate. This one’s roughly edited, forgive meee. No use of y/n.

— 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬: One of the girls - The Weeknd, Lily Rose-Depp, Jennie. Breakin’ dishes - Rihanna. Todas mueren por mi - Cartel de Santa.

Third-wheeling has now unintentionally become your most recurrent hobby since your best friend started dating Tommy Miller. Not that either of them minded, given that it was their idea.

Tonight was different, however.

"I could've been a part of it, y'know?" the man boasts, "I just didn't know how to play any instruments or how to arrange tunes... I have a nice voice, though. If that counts for anything."

Ary, your friend, giggles at his statement and replies with a comment that you didn't quite listen. Tommy's car stereo is currently blasting The Clashers' latest album— Joel Miller's rock band, that is. Two days ago, you had no idea who the eldest Miller was –only that he existed–, much less that he was the guitarist of a very popular 80s band. Now his brother is taking you and his girlfriend to their gig, to which he was given front row tickets. Nice.

Their music was actually pretty good, though some of the songs sounded more country than rock. Tommy explained that those were most definitely written by his brother, due to his love for the genre. Apparently, The Clashers have had a recent comeback with their newest album and a small tour, all after a long, undefined hiatus that went on for nearly a decade and a half. "Joel's fault", the younger Miller said, "he became a father. A single one, to top it off. But he's the best at it, don't ever doubt that."

"How old is he again?" you wonder, suddenly curious about the age gap between the siblings.

"Forty-eight. His girl Sarah just turned nineteen a couple months ago." You nod absentmindedly at the response.

You met Tommy almost a year ago, when Ary and you used to work at a cafeteria outside of Dallas' university. She'd graduated a few years ago, but needed money to pay her rent and coincidentally, you did too. You hit it off right away, becoming friends but also roommates in further time. Though you were still in college and she was a bit older, that never seemed to be an issue with your friendship or your schedules. Tommy came along shortly after, turning up every day at the café with his charisma and nice manners, making his intentions with Ary very clear since the beginning.

"D'you think there'll be a crowd?" your question makes her raise a brow quizzically.

"Most likely," she retorts thoughtfully. "Why? Are you regretting your own idea?"

Her boyfriend chuckles at that, knowing perfectly well how much you disliked loud, cramped places. It's not that you didn't enjoy this sort of events once in a while, but being someone who gets easily overwhelmed around people, you mostly prefer the sort of lay-back dates. Nevertheless, it was you who came up with this plan for today. With college giving you such a hard time and your colleagues being tremendous assholes lately, you needed something out of your comfort zone to fully unwind. Some action to pull you off the dull routine.

"Are you subtly implying that I'm a boring person?" you ask, falsely offended, crossing both arms over your chest. "Cause I swear I know how to loosen-up, I just need time to... Get used to it."

Tommy seems to be holding back laughter, but Ary doesn't even try to hide her amusement. "Girl, you're lucky I'm your friend, or else you'd be rotting in our local library," she scoffs.

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk pursing your lips, "Yeah, cause that'll be such a tragedy. Who'd support you financially if I didn't study, huh?" you turn your head to her boyfriend. "Tommy?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, fighting against the urge to grin. "Oh, dear," she glances over her shoulder to look at you from the shotgun seat, bright smile painting her face. "Don't give him any ideas. He might just marry me."

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Whilst Tommy went looking for a place to park, you and Ary walked to the nearest convenience store to grab some beverages. You were still running early anyway, which only meant a quick stop wasn't going to imply much trouble.

"I'll wait for you out here," with a head tilt, you silently indicate your friend to go ahead. "I need a cig."

She nods understandingly, "Want me to grab something for ya'?"

"No, I'm alright. Don't worry about it."

Ary stopped at the entrance to look back at you, staring intently for a weird extent of time, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Did I mention you look stunning?"

"You might've had, but that doesn't mean I don't love hearing it," the reply widened her smile. Once she went inside the store, you took a chance to peer at your reflection in the showcase.

This whole eighties vibe was certainly not something you were used to, but there was no denying how hot it made you appear. Aiming for a 'rockstar girlfriend' kinda look, you went for that smudgy, dark eye-makeup; as for the clothes, the mini skirt, low-cut bustier and oversized leather jacket paired with some nice boots kept the whole outfit together.

You blinked away, stunned by how confident you suddenly felt in your own skin. Chuckling to yourself, you started digging in your purse for a smoke. And as if the gods decided to toy with your faith, you luckily found a single one sitting at the very bottom; putting the filter between your lips, you then turned your bag upside down to search for the lighter, only to find that you hadn't brought it with you.

"Damnit," you spat in frustration, closing your eyes to picture in your mind where the last place you'd left it was.

Maybe it was next to your bed, on the nightstand; or perhaps in front of the stove... No, it definitely wasn't in the kitchen. The blurry image in the back of your head resembled more of a–

"Hey," a low, masculine voice called from beside you in a mellow tone, almost as if this mysterious man had a naturally sly nature but wanted to cool it down. "Need a light?"

He had a deep, soothing ring; raspy, profound and very southern-like. Frankly, you didn't know what you were expecting before setting your eyes on him, but it definitely wasn't a man such as he was. A wave of emotions washed over your body as you pried on him; big, broad, rugged and devastatingly handsome. Not to mention older than you— however, how much older is not a detail you care to find out. Your skin felt ticklish and warm, added to the sudden acceleration of your pulse.

First thing you noticed were his big brown eyes, shiny in sort of a childish way, regardless of the wrinkles that surrounded them when he politely simpered. You could tell he was a total heartthrob by the way his lips quirked and his head tilted downwards when addressing you.

He's thick in the arms and wide in the shoulders, something that was noticeable despite the black leather jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt, tucked into a pair of worn-out denims. The cowboy hat on his head casts shadows upon his face but you're still able to make up his features: aquiline nose, strong jawline, soft lips under a styled mustache and a patchy, graying beard. Tall and handsome as hell.

"Yeah," you answer as soon as your mind allows you to, suddenly feeling your mouth dry when realizing you were staring. He bit back a smirk as he gauges at your reaction. "You've got one?"

"Lucky for you, I do." His left hand disappeared in the pocket of his jacket, taking out a simple red lighter. "I don't suppose you've got a cigarette to spare, do ya'?"

"Sorry," you frown apologetically, "this is my last."

He closed the gap between you, but instead of handing the lighter, he hunched down to lit the end of the dart still hanging from your lips, caging it with his big hand. And fuck, he smelled good. A mix of cedar and sandalwood, fresh and manly.

"No worries, doll." Dizzy with his presence, your eyes unconsciously bored into his. You can't move away, diving inside his pupils like you're hypnotized. "I'll just buy a pack for myself."

Caught up in that urge of keeping him near, you take the dart between your fingers and hear yourself say: "Unless you wanna share."

It was impulsive, not to mention irrational. Yet, all of the rational thoughts inside your brain had unforeseeably vanished in thin air, replaced by a strange need that rested in the pit of your stomach, a wicked desire that rushed through your veins like a drug. His brow shot up in surprise, giving you a subtle, pleased nod. He realizes there's something else behind your proposition, nothing that could be hidden with the way you're shamelessly looking at him.

"Let me guess," he commences, his calloused fingers brushing against your own when he takes the cig, orange end stained with your lipstick, "you're headed to the concert."

Your eyes squint with a crooked smile, "Are you that perceptive or am I just that obvious?" he takes a short drag, holding the fag with a nonchalant attitude and a mannerism that expressed experience.

"Bit of both," the shadows of smoke surround his face, hiding his features behind a thick, mysterious fog. "You've got that groupie vibe to ya'. The kind of girl that has her walls filled with boy-band posters," he jokes.

"Oh, is that it?" you ask playfully, mirroring his action to let the nicotine circle your system. "Cool it, cowboy. I ain't trynna get in trouble for fighting an old man."

He chuckles at your sarcastic remark and you can see the spark of a thin chain around his neck, along with the soft curls that gathered at his nape. Jesus, his side profile was divine.

"What's your name, darlin'?" he asks. You tell him, that southern drawl of his being more noticeable when echoing it. "You from around?"

"Yeah," you blow the smoke away from him, though he takes back the dart while you're at it. "Been here my whole life. You?"

He shakes his head lightly, "Austin. But I've been all over."

You can't help but smile inwardly, "That explains it."

"What thing?" the man asks with a certain intrigue.

"Nothing... You've just got that particular vibe." He's already laughing when you point at the cowboy hat, rejoicing in the way you played with his own words.

"I see that, groupie." He takes the almost consumed cigarette between his teeth and removes the hat from his head, running a hand through his soft curls. "Let's trade."

You watch in awe as he unexpectedly places the hat atop your own head. It sits well there and the way his eyes grow dark and his lips curve upwards can only mean he likes it too.

"What'cha think?" you inquire, slightly adjusting it.

"I think..." he eyes you up and down, ashing the cig with a tap of his index, "You should keep it. In exchange, I'll just take what's left of this lung-junk."

"Well, that doesn't seem like a fair trade," you cross both arms over your chest. "Isn't there anything else you want apart from that half-burnt smoke?"

His head tilts to the side as he meditates his answer, his chocolate hair now messy and a couple of those brown curls hanging loose across his forehead. For a moment, you're worried you might've sounded too raunchy for the occasion, but he looks pretty pleased. His eyes lock with yours and you feel your knees wobbly just from that undeniable tension that lingers in the air.

"I'll tell you what, sweetheart." Sweetheart. Damn, he's good. "Find me after the concert's over. You can repay me then with whatever you might find convenient."

Your brows crease at the scheme, curious, "How will I find you, though? I'm certain there'll be a lot of people."

He laughs darkly, like he knew something you didn't –which, to be fair, was probably true–. "Just ask for Joel. I'm sure someone will point you to the right direction."

Joel.

Joel...

Joel?

Could it be...?

"See ya' around, groupie." He sets off with a subtle head gesture, waving back at you.

Your mind was spinning so fast that you didn't even notice when Ary reappeared beside you, rambling something about a woman being annoying over the prices and fighting cashiers, too worked up to even notice your distraught— or your new acquisition.

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

The venue was crammed with people and there was a heady scent of pot all over the place, not unusual in these sorts of businesses. Thankfully, Tommy had arrived earlier to guide you through the masses.

"Here," he said, taking you and his girlfriend by the wrist. "We've got VIP seats, no need to go all the way down there." He pointed the barricade, where a ton of people were congregated to get the better spot.

The area in which you were located had a better view of the stage and was way more comfortable. Only till you finally sat down did Ary notice the new addition to your outfit.

"Did you buy that outside the store?" she wonders, sorta screaming to make herself heard over the mass. Tommy's eyes land curiously on you.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Funny," the man mumbles to himself, shaking his head lightly. "Very funny."

"What?"

"Well," he clears his throat and licks his lips nervously, "I just think it's funny that you'd get a cowboy hat in one of my brother's gigs."

Still in the shadows, you raise your shoulders to beguile him into spilling the details, "Why's that?"

Tommy taps his knee anxiously. "You see, when Joel was younger he'd often 'gift' his hats to any girl that would catch his eye. It was a way of... I don't know, making them one of his girls, you could say. By doing so, the other band members would see her and no one would dare to make a move."

His words fell upon you like an ice bucket. Joel, Joel, Joel. It just had to be the same Joel, because honestly, what were the chances?

Before you can retort, or even form an answer in your brain, the lights go out and the crowd bursts in cheers and shouting. But you can't for the life of you pay any mind to them, too focused on Tommy's story ringing in your ears. Seconds prior to the lights going on again, the sound of a single guitar key reverberated through the venue.

Did Joel Miller just mark you like cattle so no other man would approach you? Was that some kind of sick game he liked to play? If that were the case, you can't really say you're mad about it... Mostly thrilled, so to speak.

"So what would happen afterwards?" you asked, leaning to his ear, so you could make yourself be heard.

"Huh?"

"He'd make his move and then what?"

The man slightly winced as if you had just asked him the dumbest question in the book, "I think you know the rest."

You knew.

Of course you knew.

There's a voice saying "Goodnight, Dallas" and the spotlight is now on the five men standing on stage. You didn't even need to search for his image, your eyes immediately attaching to him like a magnet. A feeling of beguilement settles in your bones as you realize you've achieved that excitement you hoped to get tonight, at last.

Amidst chaos and loud screaming, he stood there in all his glory, perfectly aware of the impression his sole presence could cause. Messy brown hair, sun-kissed skin and that patchy, graying beard. Convenience store Joel turned out to be rockstar Joel.

The only thing that was different about his appearance were the dark aviator sunglasses that gracefully framed his face, a belt with a big, round buckle and the black Epiphone Wilshire guitar that was strapped to his shoulder with a sash. All of this new fashion somehow made him more physically appealing, if that was indeed possible. He looked like the type of man you'd rip off from a magazine and stick up in the corners of your vanity; the kind of star that girls and women would salivate over.

You could totally see the fascination and understand why it was easy for him to simply pick out someone he liked and take them back to his dressing room for a nasty time. Joel Miller was that guy.

In the back of your mind you register the fact that you're probably eye-fucking him whilst his younger brother and your best friend are both standing at your right. But you can't really help it— he was just so electrifying, such a magnetic force of a man. The whole world seemed to stop as the concert carried on, though you can only make out the melodies when you're far too distracted by Joel's charisma and mysterious air.

The way he moves on stage, too focused on his own act, fingers tugging at the strings and metal vibrating underneath his touch... It's fascinating how he makes it look easy and like a tremendous labour at the same time, pulling it all off with a wolffish smile on his face. The other band members had their own charm too, but your preference was undeniable.

They played the songs that you had been previously listening to, and the fact that they're being played live just amplifies the feeling of intimacy regarding the lyricism and musicality. Songs that talk about life's hardships, love, heartbreak and carnal desires. They all just hit different.

Towards the end of the concert, Ary started feeling dizzy, the amount of people and sudden dehydration giving her signs of a posible migraine. She tried not to say anything for the sake of your fun, realizing just how much you're enjoying yourself tonight. But at the end she truly couldn't, deciding to tell Tommy she needed to step back for awhile and go get some fresh air.

"I should go with her," you said in concern. His boyfriend shook his head and patted your shoulder.

"I'll go. You can stay if you want to, just call me if something feels off and I'll be back in a sec," he said reassuringly.

It took a few seconds to agree, although you eventually did. The event was almost over anyways. "Tell me if anything happens."

"F'course."

You watch as he leaves behind her with a certain remorse in your gut. The Clashers play three more songs afterwards, turning out to be much more emotional and heartfelt than you could've expected.

One by one, every single band member thanked the audience before the lights went out completely and the crowd stopped their clapping and cheering.

In order to avoid getting stuck at the exit from the people storming out, you decided to stay back and wait. You intended to reach your friend via message, sending a short "everything alright?" that did not deliver due to the awful signal. Only then did you start to grow nervous and more worrisome.

"Excuse me," out of nowhere, one of the security guards called for you when no one else was around –aside from the scattered people that had the same idea as you did–; a tall man with a 'staff' pin on his shirt. He asked for your name, but something about the way he worded the question made you believe he already knew it. "You've got a backstage invitation."

"A backstage invitation?" You tried holding back laughter. "From whom?” your eyes narrowed at a new clue. “Wait... Did Tommy meet up with Joel?"

The staff member furrowed his brows in surprise, "You came here with Miller's brother?"

"Huh? Yes... Isn't that why you approached me?" the stranger gave you a kind, slightly embarrassed smile.

"No, but you should come with me. Joel's in fact the one that asked."

"Oh..."

So, it was him after all.

'Someone will point you to the right direction', turned out to be quite literal.

You agreed to follow the guard. Maybe Joel could just reach Tommy and tell him you were fine. Although that'll mean you'd have to explain how you two had met. Well, shit... It’s not like it was a bad thing, right?

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Backstage dressing rooms tend to be different depending on the facility where an event is held. In this case, there were rooms with the artist's names hanged on them and a handful of people moving around, spitting orders and following instructions. Everyone was so involved in their own affairs that no one really seemed to notice you, specially standing next to the security guy, who knocked twice on the guitarist's door.

It didn't take long before he appeared before you, that post-concert glow brightening up his features. His cocky smirk told you just how certain he was that you'd end up here eventually and how glad he was for it. You gave a quick nod to the man that guided you here and he disappeared just as quick as he came.

"Hey there, groupie."

"Joel." Your lips unconsciously curved, too. "I believe I owe you something." His hair was ruffled and the sunglasses rested atop his head, looking better up-close than he did on stage.

"Wanna come in?" the question sounded so genuine and innocent, it almost made you believe there wasn't a meaning behind it... Yet, you knew; you were both aware.

"Sure, but-" there was something you had to tell him... God, he smelled good— what was it you had to tell him? "Won't they scold you for having me here?"

His dressing room was fairly spacious, with a small leather couch, a coat stand with a couple of jackets and shirts hanging. His guitar rested on the corner, tucked inside its case; facing the couch was some kind of vanity where celebrities could get their makeup done, the lights around the mirror reflected a warm light.

"Don't think so, darlin'. I'm way too old for a scolding," he joked, closing the door behind you.

The very moment you were left alone, away from any prying eyes, the air shifted entirely; as if this whole space was your own private setting. That same feeling you experienced outside the store somehow crawled under your skin once more, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a crushing expectation.

"Did you enjoy the show?" you nod distractedly.

"I did. But I ain't gonna lie, it was a total shocker to find out that the hot guy I'd just met was actually a part of the group." Joel's eyes gleamed with an unfamiliar simplicity that invited you in and provided a certain comfort.

"I wish I could've seen your face," he retorted, his voice smooth and low.

"Why?" you bicker, "So I could further boost your ego? No, thanks."

He chuckles softly, his eyes squinting to reveal the tiny wrinkles that form around them; a sign that he's always been the type to laugh without remorse. Those are the small details that make him even more attractive in your perspective.

You lean against the makeup board, giving your back to the mirror and crossing both arms over your chest. The heel of your boots had started to feel uncomfortable, so you placed one leg across the other to shift some of the weight whilst his gaze followed your every move intently; the unfathomable depth of his eyes stirred something inside you, an urge to unleash your impurest thoughts.

"You've got quite an attitude, don't ya', groupie?" the man questions with humor. "But I'm pretty sure you just called me hot, so, either way, my ego was boosted," he pointed out smugly.

"Joel," you click your tongue, subtly shaking your head. "I bet there's tons of women saying that about you, and there's no doubt in my mind that you’re aware of it already."

That could not be denied. Throughout his life, Joel had always been aware of his charm and good looks, which eventually brought him popularity amongst the group. After having Sarah, he saw himself forced to tone down the amount of affairs and adventures he'd have, specially as a single father, always trying not to get his daughter's hopes high if she saw him with someone.

Honestly, despite him being back on track with the 'celebrity' lifestyle, he still wasn't planing on keeping up with his old tricks of bringing women backstage and giving them something to gush about with her friends. He really hadn't gotten involved with anyone during the tour until now... And it wasn't something he'd intended to do either. Everything happened so spontaneously, the way you two sort of bonded and just met out of the blue. Joel's goal wasn't any of this at first, he merely thought of how gorgeous you were and how comfortable he felt in your presence.

However, logic and good sense abandoned him the minute your eyes gaped at him; dark and alluring, with a spark in them that he could not escape, an intriguing verve that entranced him and crept under his skin. From that moment forward, he could only think about you while being on stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of your skin amongst the crowd but having to settle with the fresh image of you on his mind: your confident mannerisms, your striking smile and how good your legs looked in that mini-skirt. He tried to put on his best performance just to impress you.

"Yet, your perception of me is the only one I currently care about," he declares, taking a few decided steps towards you.

You beam, keeping your head held high, "I gotta give it to you, Joel. The hat thing, your whole performance... Very clever."

He's taken aback by your words, surprise written all over his face. "What d'you mean?"

"Come on, Joel," you reply with a roughish grin. "You really thought I wouldn't hear all about your schemes? Oh, here I believed I was special," you joke.

The man gets rid of that 'respectful' distance that kept you apart, slowly making his way to you, exuding that perpetual arrogance he naturally carried and never breaking eye contact. You returned the same energy; piercing his soul with those siren eyes, barely tilting your head back to expose your throat and unhooking your arms to give him a better sight of your breasts. Intentional or not, those little details were driving him insane.

"You are special, sweetheart," he murmurs, emphasizing the second word. "All of my girls are."

He was quite close now, his scent dazing your senses and the warmth of his body, plus that southern drawl of his, formed goosebumps on your skin. With boosted confidence, you reach out to softly grab the lapels of his jacket. You wait for him to push you away, scold you or react negatively... though he never does. Instead, his eyes fall from yours to your lips, licking his own distractedly. You motion to remove the shades form his head and place his hat back on, adjusting it lightly. In the meantime, you take your time to run your fingers through his hair, drag them along his jaw, feel the raspy sensation of his beard scratching your fingertips.

"S'that so?" you whisper, your breath fanning across his cheek. "You know what I want...?" His eyelids shudder, a muscle twitching on his neck as you lean to pour the next words into the shell of his ear. "I just wanna be one of your girls, Joel Miller..."

Those words have an immediate effect on him, his eyes darkening with blown away pupils. Your hand lowers to his chest, conscious of the strength with which his heart was beating, the heat of his feverish skin there where you touched him. His palms land on your hips, caressing the covered skin as they make their way to your waist.

"We'll see 'bout that, darlin'," he hushes, cupping your face with his right hand to keep you steady, restrain your control over him. His face is barely inches away from yours, practically breathing each other in. "You know what's gonna happen now, don't you?"

You gulp in suspense, eyes glued to his lips, waiting, wishing he'd just kiss you. "Yes..."

"Good," Joel's thumb swipes across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. "Is this what you want?"

You can barely muster up the courage to speak, nearly falling from the tension. "Please..."

"Mmm..." his nose rubs against yours and your eyes close instinctively. "That's not an answer, sweetheart."

Your hands fist on his shirt, desperate to touch him. "Yes, Joel."

"That's my girl," he praises, effectively creating a pool of arousal that smothers your underwear. But you've barely got any time to process it before his lips are finally on yours.

The kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, his plump lips molding against yours. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck, your nails scratching his skin deliciously. Everything feels hot all of the sudden, the need to get rid of your jacket latent on the edges of your body. Joel holds your waist and quickly sits you fully on top of the board, making you squeal from the abruptness of the action; this way he can settle himself between your legs and flush his chest to yours. His lips never part from yours, swallowing down any noise that escaped your mouth.

The coarse fabric of his jeans feels rough against your exposed skin, his hands coming to grab the back of your thighs, sliding them beneath the hem of your skirt as you wrap your legs around his waist. The kiss is breathy and intense, you taste him when your tongue drags inside –a mix of mint and cigarettes–, your teeth crashing when he tries to assert his dominance by pulling your body closer to his. Your perfume, sweet and floral, lingers around him in a way that makes him want you even more. When he slowly licks your lower lip, you moan faintly and the sound makes him throb.

His fingers splay on your asscheeks, prodding you to feel the weight of his hardening cock against your inner thigh, consequently setting a fire in your lower belly. You catch his grunt in the kiss, the feeling of his mustache tingling on your skin whilst you grind your hips just to experience that friction once again, relishing in the familiar sensation of your arousal spilling into your panties, wet and warm. And fuck, part of you doesn't believe that this man is hard for you. Joel suddenly backs away, just enough to stare blankly into your eyes, casted with desire, and regain a bit of composure.

"Not a word about this, 'aight?" something you had figured he'd state sooner or later.

"Yes, sir. It'll be our dirty little secret," you grin right as he whispers a goddamnit.

Before he pulls you in for another heated kiss, you struggle to take your jacket off, taking your phone out of the pocket and hastily throwing it to the floor as he mimics your action. Joel uses this moment to fully take in the sight of you; the way your tits sit perfectly in that top, chest rising and falling from drawing ragged breaths, your exposed neck and shoulders, flushed skin ideal for him to nip at and trace with his lips. So he does just that.

He ghosts your mouth, towering over you but ignoring the need to reattach your lips to his. Alternately, he gently kisses your chin, making his way down your throat and between your collarbones. You're a panting mess under his touch, trying to keep yourself collected for the sake of not getting caught, yet failing when his teeth sank onto the pillowy flesh of your breast. You audibly gasp, holding onto his arm for dear life; though he simply huffs a laugh that vibrates through you.

"Don't worry, darlin'. In here, you can be as loud as you want to," he assures.

Joel descends to his knees in front of you and the image is far too erotic for you to hold back a whimper. He coaxes your knees farther apart, your denim skirt hunched up around your hips so he can peek at the red lace of your underwear. He grabs your calf and places a kiss to the side of your knee, looking up at you hungrily.

"Should we take this off?" he taps on your boot, calloused fingers tracing random patterns on your leg.

"Let's keep them on," you say, your hand stroking his cheekbone. "I want to wear them when I come on your cock."

His eyes glint with lust, "Fuck..." he rumbles, almost pained. "Who would've thought a pretty girl like you would have such a filthy tongue."

You can't help but smirk as his lips roam upwards, "You think I'm pretty?"

His gaze scorches with intensity, both his hands languidly sliding up your sides till his fingers hook on the edge of your panties, pulling them down your legs to take them off, "I think you're beautiful," he murmurs amidst. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears at the time he leans into the apex of your thighs, one of his brows quirking up at the sight of glistening slick sticking to your swollen skin.

"Poor thing," he coos, taking off the hat like a cowboy who's worked his whole shift and comes home to eat the best dinner he's ever had, placing it beside you. "You're so sensitive, baby..." you inhale sharply when he lays a teasing kiss on your inner thigh. "Been a while?"

You nod, though even if it has been a while since the last time you slept with someone, you're certain that most of your responsiveness falls onto Joel's doing. He tsked, shaking his head in the meantime and using his thumb to barely spread your folds. Your eyes look at him beneath heavy lids, lips parted as his mouth explores the area, his breathing tickling the sensitive skin.

"I'll take care of you, sweetheart."

Without warning, his tongue darts out to lick the slick around your entrance, ravishing on the sweet taste of your juices. Your fingers thread through his curls, swallowing hard at the new sensation. He takes his time with you, leisurely allowing your wetness to gather on his tongue, his nose nudging at your clit when he moves his head a certain way. It all makes your brain spin, overcome by the pleasure you're experiencing, actually permitting you to loose your cords and spill uninhibited whimpers that only egged him on.

"Shit, you're doing great..." you can feel his smile against your dripping core.

"You just taste amazing, darlin'," he's not lying. Joel's enjoying himself far too much as he buries his tongue between your folds, holding you tighter. "So fucking good..."

The back of your mind registers the brief pain of his fingertips digging in your flesh, thinking it may bruise in the morning. The other part can't even form a rational thought. You moan his name, calling out for something to ground you; but he's just as gone, if not way worse. Joel is bewitched by the headiness of you, clogging his senses entirely. It's been so long since he gave head, but he doesn't remember it like this— like he couldn't get enough, so eager to make you feel good, to hear those pretty sounds spill from your mouth.

"Oh my god..." you mewl when his lips close around your puffy clit, gently flicking his tongue over it whilst you run your hands through his locks.

He flattens his tongue against the bundle of nerves, tracing delicate circles that make your whole body shudder. You're messily dripping all the way down to the wooden surface as he selfishly alternates his attention between your aching bud and your hole.

"Look at you, honey," he mumbles, voice laced with desire. "Doin' so good for me."

His fingers swipe across your slit, making you squirm. "Joel, please-"

"I know, baby, I know..."

Though when he's about to dive in again, you catch the light of your phone through your peripheral vision: an incoming call. The ID read the name 'Tommy <3'.

Tommy???!!!!

"Shitshitshit," you quickly reach for the device, swiping the green button and muttering a wary wait to the man before you. Joel simply gawks at you with intrigue, the pads of his fingers still roaming around your core. "Hello?"

On the other side of the line, Tommy says your name with utter relief, "Thank god. I left you a thousand messages. Are you okay?"

More than okay. Your brother's tongue was inside my cunt just a few seconds ago, actually.

Obviously you can't say that.

"Uh... Yeah, everything's fine." You clear your throat, trying to mask the gasp that threatened to escape when Joel started rubbing tender circles on your clit. "The signal's just really bad."

"Yes, I noticed," he mutters, a bit frustrated. "Should I go get you? There's still plenty of people at the entrance and I don't want you to get lost."

"No- no..." you have to bite your bottom lip in order to muffle the unholy moan you were about to slip out. The bastard had just sinked one finger inside you experimentally, watching your face contort in pleasure as he reached for that particular spot. "I- have... Is Ary alright?"

"She took a pill and is knocked out in the backseats of my car right now," you can practically hear his smile as he speaks. "But... Are you sure you're okay? You sound... Agitated."

That was a way of putting it.

Joel is a greedy, jealous man. He wants all your undivided attention and will make sure to let you know. He decides to add a second finger, watching your eyes screw shut and your mouth gape as he curls them, your slick covering all the way to his knuckles.

"Yes, I met with a friend-" you tug at his hair hard enough to make him groan, his cock twitching with interest. "She's taking me home."

Your thighs start quivering and your body feels hot all over, an abrasive feeling of bliss rushing through every single nerve ending. You're close, and judging by the way you clench around his fingers, he knows too.

"Oh... Well, in that case just let me know once you get home. Please?" You think you answer, but you're not entirely sure. The call ends and your phone slips from your hand.

"Joel, I can't..." you whine when his lips latch to your nub once again, his fingers still working you open.

"Yes you can," he vows. You clutch at his curls with enough strength to work him up. "You're a big girl, you can take it."

And it's right then, when he repeatedly hits your g-spot, licking and sucking at your delicate clit, that your hips get a mind of their own, barely kept in place by Joel's strong grip on your hip. The coil finally snaps. You're not sure what you say, what words fall from your mouth... But they do dawdle on his mind. You shake from the magnitude of your orgasm, muscles starting to relax as Joel licks up every drop of your release, absolutely lost in the sweet taste of you. Your grasp on his hair loosened as he rose to his feet, letting you catch your breath.

He's on edge, his voice a hoarse rumble when he spoke. "Didn't anyone tell you," his left hand came up to brush his fingertips over your lips, "how rude it is to answer phone calls when this pretty pussy of yours is getting eaten?”

You lick your lips nervously. "I'm sorry..." he hums in response, "I'll make it up to you."

There's no time for him to reply since you crash your lips to his once again, frenetically searching to feel his weight pressed on top of you for a second time. This kiss is messy, rushed and needy. You can taste yourself in it as he pushes his tongue past your teeth.

Amidst the fuss, your hand snakes between your bodies to tug at his belt, fumbling to pop his pants open. Once you do, you can feel how warm and heavy his cock is, rock hard beneath your touch. He hisses at the flick of your wrist, moving up and down his length over the thin fabric of his boxers. Joel rests his forehead against yours to even his breaths, his chest heaving with a lustful sigh.

"Fuck," he grumbles, swiftly manhandling you so you're facing the mirror. His hand holds your face for you to stare back at your own reflection. "Aren't you a sight to behold?"

And you're certain that for a man like him, those words couldn't be truer. Sweat beads around your neck and sticks a couple hairs to your temples, eyes teary in the corners and lipstick smeared from the make out. Here and there your skin displays signs of his presence, part of you wishing they'd stay there till the next morning. If there was an accurate way to describe how you looked, that'll be wrecked.

"You should see yourself, Miller," you smirk, gesturing in his direction. His eyes reflected a prurient nature that added to his sex appeal, hair messy from your doing and an eager expression that gave him a downright pornographic aura. "Not bad for an old man."

His lips caress the back of your ear, hands driving the denim skirt farther up your hips. You cling to the edge of the work desk, making an effort to stand up in your weak knees, chills running down your spine when he gently nibbles at your earlobe.

"So much for not wanting to boost my ego, huh, sweetheart?" his gruff voice is both soothing and stirring, making all the blood rush straight to your pussy.

He parts your legs, spreading them with his knee and forcing you to bend forward a little. Your head turns to peek behind your shoulder, his every move being closely monitored by you, eyes widening when you finally fathom the sheer size of his cock. Your lower body pulsates with anticipation, another wave of arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs.

"Holy fuck-" you ramble as you watch him expertly roll a condom on his length. He's long and visibly thick, a prominent vein running from base to tip; your mouth waters just from the idea of wrapping your lips around it. "Shit..."

"Don't be getting all shy now, honey. Tis' what you wanted, then you're getting it," he rasps, lining himself between your legs.

"M'not shy," you retort, staring back at him through the mirror. "Was just thinking about how badly I wanted to blow you."

Joel stifles a groan, his hands snaking to your front to pull down the top and expose your tits. There was no need to wear a bra with a bustier, which you were glad for, cause it made it easier for him to pinch the peaked buds of your nipples. The head of his cock glides across your folds, coating it with the slick that keeps dribbling each time he bumps against your clit or makes you watch as he gropes your breasts.

"You talk like a slut." Your cheeks soared red and your pussy fluttered at the name-calling. The heat of his body on yours was simply intoxicating, making it difficult for you to think. "Is that how you want me to fuck you?" he whispers in your ear, nudging his cock at your entrance but not quite going in yet. "Nice and hard until I make an absolute mess out of you? Mmm?"

You nod, "Yes, god- yes. Please, Joel..."

He takes that plea as his cue to press himself inside you, slow and steady, allowing your body to adjust to the intromission. Your mouth falls ajar, nails scratching the wood under your fingers, vaguely squirming at the sharp sting of the stretch.

"That's it, takin' my cock so well," words of encouragement fall hoarsely form his lips like a chant and your body willingly melts into his. "See? I knew you could take it."

His thighs plunge to yours when he bottoms out at last, letting out a few pants and groans, his fingers pushing stray hairs out of your face. You can feel him jerk inside you, your walls enveloping his girth tightly, a wave of pleasure licking his spine at the feeling. He doesn't waste any more time, finding a pace of his liking as soon as he started moving and being relentless with it. The way his neck chain hits your shoulder blades with each thrust, the scrub of his beard when he kisses your temple and the dirty praises that he murmurs in your ear, somehow make the situation grounding; like it's really happening and you're not dreaming about it.

As Joel cradles you in his arms, your hand skirts to his nape in order to bring him in for a kiss. Each roll of his hips is calculated, deep and unswerving, knowing exactly how and where you liked it, studying your reactions. When he kisses you, he does so earnestly, almost affectionate in contrast to the rhythm in which his dick drags inside you– but it's short, the need for oxygen overpowering both. At this point, not even your stilted whimpers and his soft moans can mask the lewd sound of your squelching pussy or the sporadic noise of skin slapping against skin.

"Good fuckin' slut," he locks your jaw in place, pushing you to keep eye contact with your own reflection. "Sneakin' behind your friend's back to get fucked by a stranger –shit– an 'old man', nonetheless..."

Your stomach tenses each time the head of his cock grazes that sensitive spot within you, legs shaking at the way he speaks to you. Through the mirror, you see the way his thumb digs into your cheek, his hand cupping your breast as he twists your nipple in his fingers and the worst of all: that haughty fucking smile that suited him perhaps too damn well.

"I always did like them older," you utter, out of breath.

He chuckles darkly, heftily, letting his hand coast down your abdomen and reach your clit to tease it while he takes you from behind. The feeling was so intense that all you could do was claw at his bicep and let a hushed whine slip past your lips, knowing that a second orgasm was approaching faster than you had expected.

"Fuck, Joel- It feels so good..." your moans are like music to his ears, a syrupy melody that he wants to maintain on replay.

The way your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his length with every push, has his head fuzzy with sheer pleasure. And god- you look beautiful coming undone for him. No; because of him. He sees you looking at him through the reflection, pupils dark with an obscure desire, feels your cunt soak him every time he tells you how good you are, with each sound he makes just for you.

"I'm so close-" you warn, white sparks blurring your vision at the building of your crescendo.

"C'mon, come for me," he purrs, skillfully teasing your nub. "Wanna feel it— oh fuck, wanna feel you live up to your promise..."

Joel fucking whimpers, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck as he pulls your hips to meet his pace. The sound is so enticing that it throws you off, wanting to engrave it in your mind. Your thighs waver and your back arches, an overwhelming sense of euphoria partaking your body. "I've got you, let me hear you," he fucks you through it, slowing down but never losing precision. "Right there, you did so good..."

In your state of frenzy, you feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grip on your body tightening: the classic telltale of his own climax looming. Through it all, with your heart thumping so loud that it's almost deafening, you blurt out a dulcet: "Come in my mouth..."

God help him.

He nearly loses it right then and there.

"As you wish," he sighed, his deep voice raspy with passion.

But he's an indulgent man, so he musters up the strength to pull out and snatch the condom away, throwing it to the trash can. You fall to your knees with no hesitation, arms stretching to reach the outline of his hips. Joel guides the ruddy head of his cock to your lips, spreading precome all over them before you fully take him in your mouth. You suck him earnestly, focusing on the tip and tracing the vein on the underside of his dick. He's so worked up that it doesn't take him long to start panting; head thrown back and hand grabbing firmly the back of your neck.

Your gaze stick to his, knowing perfectly the power of looking into his eyes. You love the taste of him, musky and strong; all man. All you can think of right at this moment is how you want more, so much more of him.

"Perfect," he slurs through gritted teeth. "Perfect girl."

You can't contain the hum that reverberates through him, pushing him over the edge whilst you massage his balls. A deep, guttural groan claws its way from his throat, hips stuttering and thighs trembling as he comes in thick, hot spurts down your throat. You swallow instantly, not thinking much about it and stroking his shaft unhurriedly until he's whimpering from overstimulation; though he doesn't tell you to stop or pushes you away, letting you work him up to the time of your choice. Once you're content, you straighten your posture and rearrange your top, roughly registering when he tucks himself back in his pants.

"You okay?" he asks, helping you get on your feet. His thumb swipes around your lips and chin to clean the smeared lipstick, a sweet concern dithering in his eyes.

“Feelin’ great,” you say with genuine joy, pulling your skirt downwards and grabbing your panties from the floor, laying next to your jacket and his guitar. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he lends you a hand in putting your jacket back on. “It’s been a while since I’ve… Uh, well, you get it.”

You turn to face him, beaming radiantly. Gosh, you’re stunning. He’s certain he won’t forget those mesmerizing eyes of yours.

“Joel, let’s be honest with each other…” your hands shot up to caress his cheek and thread at his curls. You don’t believe him one bit. “We’ll meet again. You know we will.”

You didn’t really mean it, merely wanting to make an impression. But there was a minuscule possibility that your paths would cross for a second time; after all, you did know his brother. Though you never mentioned that. Deep down, you were scared that he wouldn’t want to make a move if he knew of that connection— specially after seeing Tommy’s reaction when he saw that hat on your head.

“Hope that’s true, groupie.”

Joel insists on calling his chauffeur to take you home, arguing that it was past midnight and it was dangerous to take a cab. Eventually, you let him, making a quick stop to the bathroom to set things right with your appearance. He waits for you patiently, the cowboy hat presented to you as a gift when you walked out.

“Keep it,” he sways, “as a little souvenir for if we don’t end up meeting again. Besides, it suits you better.”

“Won’t you have another pretty girl to gift it to?” he rolls his eyes at your inquiry.

“I can always buy more,” he laughs. “I want you to remember I sent you home sore and aching each time you look at it.”

You giggle, getting on your tippy toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Miller. I’ll be thinking ‘bout it… About you. That’s a promise.”

And he truly hopes you mean it.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #joel miller au #alternate universe #smut

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maddie-dog-story-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Hide and Seek

"16... 17... 18... 19... 20! Ready or not, here I come, silly girl!"

Carmen kept crouched as low as possible in her hiding spot behind the blinds behind the couch. She tried to move as little as possible both to keep the blinds from moving and to keep the crinkling of her bulky disposable diaper from giving her position away. Carmen, a beautiful, 28-year-old partner in a boutique law firm, needed to remain hidden for the next 30 minutes. She didn't think she could handle the consequences if she didn't.

Carmen's home life hadn't always been like this--filled with diapers, onesies, and children's games. Just six months ago, her life was like a dream. She was married to an amazing man, Andrew. Both she and Andrew worked good paying, professional jobs. They didn't have kids to drain away their money and time. Plus, with more than a little help from their parents, they had both avoided student debt. With a surplus of money and time, Carmen had the best of everything. She had the best food, the best clothes, the best cars, the best vacations, and, importantly, the best sex.

All of that had changed when they hired Kelly. The 19-year-old, beautiful blonde, working her way through community college had dropped into Carmen's life like a bomb.

Both Andrew and Carmen hated cleaning the house, preferring to spend their time enjoying themselves. So, they hired Kelly, who was more than willing to be their live-in maid, cleaning their house in exchange for room, board, and generous pay.

At first, Carmen loved the arrangement. Everyday when she came home from work, the house was immaculate. Kelly herself was always bubbly and happy, overall a joy to be around. Further, neither Carmen or Andrew noticed the lose of one of their spare bedrooms, a small amount of food, or their money.

Carmen began to become more uncomfortable with the situation as time went on though. Andrew typically worked from home, meaning he spent the day around the attractive young co-ed. Carmen started to notice that after a few weeks of this relationship, Kelly and Andrew were getting more and more familiar. What started with a few giggles at inside jokes, quickly progressed to an uncomfortable familiarity. Carmen noticed that Kelly was quickly becoming more and more physically close with her husband, lightly touching his arm or lower back while often positioning herself physically between the attorney and her husband. They whispered in each other's ears when Kelly was around, and would occasionally try to do things outside of the house together.

Eventually, Carmen had enough. One evening, after Kelly had gone to her room, Carmen confronted Andrew, ordering him to either set more appropriate boundaries with Kelly or fire the woman with a generous severance package. Andrew agreed to set better boundaries, and, for all of a day, everything seemed fine.

However, two mornings after Carmen's confrontation over Kelly with her husband, the 28-year-old lawyer, who had never wet the bed in her life, woke up in soaking wet sheets. Kelly, as the live-in housekeeper was all too eager that morning to clean up after her employers embarrassing accident. Despite the immediate shame, Carmen brushed that accident off as the result of her stress caused by work and her recent conflict with Andrew.

But, her accidents didn't end there. Two mornings later, Carmen woke up tucked between sheets soaked in her own urine again. Once again, Kelly diligently cleaned up Carmen's mess without complaint. However, when Carmen went to get ready to sleep the next night, a pack of GoodNites was laid on her side of the bed.

"Andrew, what the fuck is this?!" Carmen said as she burst into the bathroom where her husband was sitting on the toilet.

"Um, GoodNites?" He responded nonchalantly.

Carmen nearly exploded.

"I know that! What are they doing on my bed?!"

"Leaving you a subtle hint that you don't seem to be getting!" Andrew responded with more than a hint of condescension in his tone. "I was talking to Kelly today, and she's tired of changing *your* wet sheets. And, to be fair to her, I'm also tired of waking up soaked in your pee. She suggested you wear some protection to bed until this phase passes. It seemed like a good idea to me."

Kelly fumed, "Oh, you were *talking* to that little bitch, and she suggested I wear a diaper to bed? No way. I don't have a bedwetting problem. It's just been a couple of nights!"

"Whatever you say, babe. But, if this keeps happening, you're not going to have a choice. Your 'not-a-bedwetting-problem' is already doing a number on our mattress. I've seen the damage when Kelly changes the sheets. If this keeps happening, you're going to wear GoodNites to bed. We aren't buying a new mattress," Andrew lectured his wife.

Carmen huffed and threw the GoodNites across the room. She was an adult. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing a fucking pull-up to bed. Or so she thought.

Three days and two accidents later, Carmen blushed as she walked in her room and found the GoodNites on her side of the bed again. Andrew was already in the master bathroom, getting ready for bed. This time, she chose to take the subtle hint. Before her husband made it out of the bathroom, she quickly undressed, slipped on the bedwetting pants, and threw on her baggiest pajamas. She then quickly hid the open pack of pull-ups in her underwear drawer.

Andrew walked out of the bathroom, walked up to Carmen, gave her a kiss accompanied by his customary ass-grab. Carmen blushed as she felt her underwear crinkle under his hand.

"Good girl!" Andrew said before giving Carmen a playful spank and crawling into bed.

Things continued to get worse from that point forward. Carmen began waking up wet every morning, and it wasn't long before she started having small accidents during the day, ruining her work clothes. Each time, she would call Andrew to have him bring her clean panties and bottoms. Each time, he, to Carmen's embarrassment, sent Kelly to drop off the clothes. After her third accident, Andrew suggested, and Carmen agreed, that she should start wearing extra protection during the day.

Shortly after her daytime accidents started, her wetting problem became more extreme. Every morning, Carmen woke up to wet sheets despite wearing GoodNites. Similarly, Carmen had to have her housekeeper bring her new clothes more than a handful of times because she had leaked through her protective panties at work.

It was the Saturday after Carmen's second week of leaking incidents that Andrew called a 'family meeting.' Carmen entered her living room to find Andrew and Kelly sitting on the couch facing a kitchen chair, set up in the middle of the room.

"Sit down, baby, we need to talk," Andrew said, gesturing for Carmen to sit in the chair.

Carmen sat down nervously, her wet pull-up squishing as her weight hit the hard seat.

"Talk about what? And why is SHE here?" Carmen's distaste for Kelly having only grown since her little 'accidents' has began.

Andrew proceeded to explain his and Kelly's growing concerns with Carmen's toilet-troubles. He discussed how he and Kelly had been speaking at length about the problem and both agreed that it seemed to be as a result of stress. From there, Andrew laid out the plan Kelly had devised to help her work through it, and indicated that agreed with it.

Carmen would take a leave of absence from work and as much stress as possible would be removed from her life. Carmen would no longer be responsible for making any of her own decisions or taking care of herself. Andrew and Kelly, whose role would be expanded from just a housekeeper to that of Carmen's nanny, would be wholly reasonable for everything in Carmen's life. They would feed her, bath her, entertain her, dress her, and, worst of all, diaper her. Carmen would effectively be reduced to a toddler, living a state-of-existence where she wouldn't have to worry about anything, even when to use the potty.

Carmen immediately raged against her husband and housekeeper's proposal. She threw a massive tantrum, screaming, breaking, and throwing things. Having had enough, Andrew pulled Carmen over his lap and gave her the first, of what has become many, spankings. It only ended when Carmen's pull-up ended up leaking all over his lap. Sobbing, defeated, embarrassed, and covered in her own urine, Carmen gave in.

From there, things deteriorated quickly. Carmen quickly found her life filled with baby food, bottle feedings, baby toys, and diaper changes. The woman who she had been afraid was stealing her husband was now the person primarily responsible for wiping Carmen's ass. Andrew quickly found he wasn't attracted to Carmen in her new infantilized state, and Kelly convinced him that it would be more appropriate anyways for them to convert one of their many bedrooms into a nursery and have Carmen sleep in there.

Carmen found herself tucked into her crib after a bath and a bedtime story by Kelly every night at 7:30 pm. Carmen wasn't certain what happened after she was locked in her childish prison for the night, but, from the increase in physical affection between Andrew and Kelly, she suspected that Kelly had moved into the master bedroom full time.

Worst of all, Carmen's accidents didn't get better. Instead, they got worse. Within weeks of being forced into diapers full time, Carmen was having legitimate messy accidents. She couldn't figure out why, but she had her suspicions that, somehow, Kelly was behind it.

That brought her to today. Angry after yet another messy accident, Carmen had finally confronted her Nanny about her role in her accidents. Smiling, Kelly had admitted she'd been slipping laxatives, muscle relaxers, and diuretics into Carmen's food for months. However, Kelly rightfully pointed out that even if Carmen told Andrew about Kelly's transgressions, after months of seeing his wife reduced to the status of an overgrown toddler, Andrew would never believe Carmen.

Carmen knew the beautiful, young woman was right. Continuing her tantrum, Carmen screamed out in frustration that that wasn't fair. In response, Kelly offered the babyfied woman a deal. If Carmen could hide from her Nanny in a game of hide and seek for 30 minutes, Kelly would tell Andrew everything; however, if Kelly found Carmen, Carmen had to go to Andrew and ask him to make Kelly her Mommy, permanently sealing her fate as an overgrown infant.

Confident she could win, Carmen took the deal. That confidence disappeared as soon as Kelly finished counting.

Crouched behind the couch, Carmen had accidentally placed herself in the perfect position to release a huge mess into her pants, and her body recognized it. Only moments after Kelly's announcement that she was coming to find Carmen, Carmen's ass let out a trumpeting fart.

"Oh, what was that?" Kelly asked, walking into the living room, following the tell-tale sound of her charge on the verge of a messy accident. "Is baby Carmy about to make stinkies?"

Carmen squeezed her eyes shut and focused all of her energy on keeping her pants clean. Maybe, if she stayed quiet enough, Kelly would think the sound was something else and go look elsewhere in the house. Carmen wasn't that lucky.

Moments after her Nanny entered the room, Carmen involuntarily released a torrent of shit into her diaper. Not only was her accident loud, but the smell was horrible.

"I know that sound!" Kelly said, sniffing the air, "and that smell! Pee-yew! Baby Carmy made a stinky!"

Behind the couch, Carmen turned bright red as she continued to hope against all odds that her hiding spot was good enough to keep her hidden despite her body's betrayal. Carmen couldn't live the rest of her life with Kelly as her Mommy.

Carmen heard her Nanny and tormentor sniff the air again.

"Now where could baby Carmy be?" Kelly sniffed a third time like a hound on the trail of game, getting closer.

"I know! Babies love to hide behind furniture when they make stinkies!"

Carmen screamed in frustration as she looked up and saw Kelly's face peeking over the back of the couch, grinning triumphantly.

"Found you, you little stinker! And with 29 minutes to spare!"

Carmen cried as Kelly helped extricate her from the back of the couch. This couldn't be happening! She couldn't have lost! Not in such a humiliating way!

But, as she stood there in front of her Nanny, her messy diaper drooping between her legs, Carmen knew the truth. She wasn't and never would be a big girl again. She was and always would be a loser.

"Alright, baby, you lost! Time to pay up! Go find your Daddy!"

Kelly followed Carmen as she toddled to Andrew's office and opened the door.

Andrew smiled at seeing his wife being led around by his lover.

"Hey you two, how can I help you?" He asked.

"Baby Carmy has something to tell you! It's very exciting!" Kelly said, pushing Carmen forward.

Carmen had no choice. She had lost. There was no where left for her to hide. Steeling herself, she opened her mouth.

"Daddy, could you pwease make Nanny my Mommy?"

Andrew's eyes lit up at the question. He rose from his desk, embraced his diaper clad wife, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Nothing would make me happier, Little One!"

All Carmen could do was cry as her husband then walked up to her young rival and passionately kissed her after asking her to marry him. Unfortunately for Carmen, Andrew and Kelly would forever describe her tears as tears of joy, rather than the tears of despair they truly were.

#ab/dl diaper #ab/dl kink #ab/dl story time #ab/dl caption #ab/dl couple #diaper stories #diaper regression #humiliation kink #ab/dl mommy #ab/dl babygirl #ab/dl girl #ab/dl daddy #Hide and Seek

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melanieph321 · 4 months ago

Text

Ruben Dias x Reader - Not Ready Part 2/12

+18

Part 3 and Part 4 are out on my Patreon for FREE!

Readers sister dies in a tragic car accident, leaving reader and her boyfriend Ruben in the urgent custody of her niece and nephew. Readers life is suddenly flipped upside-down since having children hadn't been the plan for her and Ruben's life together. At least not now when his football career was reaching great new heights.

Enjoy! 💞

"So you're a...."

"Puppy mom. Jupp. That's what the ladies at the park call me."

"Well, damn." Your sister laughed. "Who would have thought?"

FaceTiming her on a Saturday morning was always as entertaining and chaotic. While you held up your new puppy for your sister to see, your niece and nephew Emmy and Vale fought each other for a chance to also get to see the dog.

"Kids kids, please." Your sister pleaded. "You're scaring the puppy."

"No, it's okay. He's still sleeping." You assured. The little pup sitrred in the palm of your hand. He had grown so big during the few weeks you've had him. By now he could run around the apartment for hours on end.

"Auntie, Y/N, when can we come and see him." Your niece Emmy asked, but was pushed out of view by her little brother.

"What's his name Auntie, Y/N. Tell us his name!"

"I asked her first." Emmy groand and soon the children were fighting again.

"Hey, hey!" You shouted from your end. "Quit it you too!"

They settled down immediately to their mother's relief. "Thank you. Now you see what I have to deal with everyday."

You beamed at your screen as all three of them appeared with their cheeks squeezed together in order to fit into the small frame.

You tilted your phone, once again showing off the sleeping puppy. The children gasped in delight.

"His name is Iker." You smiled. "And hopefully you can all come and see him during your next school break."

"Yay!" The children erupted in joyful cheers, spilling out in the kitchen and around they're mother.

"Remind me to buy you a birthday gift." She smiled.

"No. Absolutely not. You owe me nothing sis. You've practically raised me since I was a baby. I owe my life to you."

"Well, that's very kind of you to say. Although true, I really want to give you something for your birthday. It's not everyday you turn twenty-five."

"Ugh, please don't remind me."

"Remind you of what?" Ruben said, walking into the kitchen, dressed in a two piece Manchester City tracksuit.

"How old I am." You said, shifting your phone for Ruben to see that you were in a FaceTime call with your sister.

"Oh. Hi Liza. Didn't see you there."

"Hello, Ruben. I see you're ready for the big game."

Ruben approached the kitchen table where you sat, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He leaned towards your phone, making sure that his Man City badge was visible on the screen. "Trust me Liza, City will bring it home this season once again."

"You wish." Liza snorted "Chelsea's got it together this year. I'll bet my money on that."

"Well don't bet too much of it."

"Ha ha."

Ruben moved away from the screen but just then Vale popped up. "Hi Uncle Ruben. Do you want to see my tooth." He held his mouth open with his hands, showing off his gums.

"Hi buddy." Ruben returned to the screen, his chin now resting on your shoulder. "I heard you got a visit from the tooth fairy not too long ago. Looks like she got you good, eh."

You nudged him with your elbow. Ruben chuckled, and turned to nibble at your ear.

"Just kidding buddy. You can barely tell that your tooth is missing. I promise. "

Again, your elbow found Ruben's ribcage.

"Looks like I've got to go." He groand. "Say hello to your sister for me."

"Ruben!" Emmy popped up on the screen at the mention.

"Hi sweetheart. How are you?"

"Good. Are you going to play football today?"

"Yes, I am. I was just on my way." He said, looking at you with a hand rubbing his stomach.

"Well.....then we've only got one thing to say?"

"Oh yeah, and what is that?" Ruben turned back to the screen. The children, including your sister, backed up for him to see all three of them while they chanted: "CHELSEA! CHELSEA!" And then bursting into a heartfelt laughter before hanging up the phone.

"I'm so sorry, Ruben."

"Are you?" His cheeks blossomed. "Are you really?"

"Yes." You said, but struggled to hold in your own laughter. "It's just that they're such hard core Chelsea fans. My whole family is."

"But you're not, right?"

"Right."

He leaned in and kissed your lips. "Good. I'll see you at the game."

"Bye bye papa." You held up the dog as Ruben left the kitchen. He blew you both a kiss before leaving the apartment to yourself.

Nevertheless, you didn't have time to do much before the game started. You made sure to walk Iker before you left him with a sitter a.k.a, Laleh. Who insisted on calling you while you were at The Etihad stadium, watching Man City's season opener game against Chelsea.

"So, a dog instead of a ring, eh?"

"Stop it Laleh, we've been over this."

"Over what?" She barked. Or it was Iker who barked, you couldn't tell sitting amongst the cheering fans.

"If Ruben wanted to propose to me he would have." You said. "There is no need to rush things. Besides, the two of us owning a dog is already enough commitment."

"Are you sure he sees himself as an owner and not just you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he bought you the dog as a gift. That makes you the sole owner of Iker not Ruben."

"It does?"

"Mhm. Seems like he tricked you girl."

"Stop it Laleh." You sighed. "Can't you be happy for me? Just this once?"

Again someone barked.

"No." Laleh muttered. "Not if it makes me the babysitter to a little beast. Is he even potty trained?"

"Oop, got to go girl, the game is starting." The game was actually coming to end, with Man City having butchered Chelsea with a 2-0 victory. A result that Ruben would be more than pleased with.

"You feel so good baby. So tight and so wet."

You came home that night with Ruben practically escorting you towards the bedroom. There he did unspeakable things to you while riding off the high of his team's exhilarating first victory of the season.

"I love you so much, baby. Have I told you that?"

Things slowed down towards the end, with Ruben's cock still buried deep inside of you, however, his bare hips rolled against you slowly, savoring every moment that you took him into you.

"I love you so fucking much." He groaned into the crook of your neck, bottoming out. "I want us to stay like that forever, me, buried deep inside of your pussy."

"Yes, forever." You mumbled, drunk from the spine ripping pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good baby, so...fucking good." His release came in floods, the condom he wore filling up at the tip. Your walls clench around Ruben's wide shaft and soon you too rode the hills of your back arching orgasm. The two of you then lay quiet in the night. Unmoveable, but still attached to each other beneath your hips. Ruben didn't pull out until he was completely lank, tightening a knot around the condom before throwing the rubber into the nearest bin. The two of you then cuddled each other until you fell asleep, Ruben drifting deeper into sleep than you did.

It was lucky that Ruben did not wake up when your phone vibrated against the nightstand, pulling you out of your brief slumber.

"Hello, Emanuel?" You rubbed your tired eyes at the sight of his name lighting up your screen. Emanuel was the name of your sister's husband, the father of your niece and nephew.

"Y/N....is that you?"

"Emmy?" You perked up at the sound of her sniffles. "Emmy what's wrong?"

"Daddy won't stop crying."

"What?" A sudden fear clenched your heart. "Is something wrong with your dad? Where's mom?"

"She's not coming back."

"Emmy, please. You're scaring me." You sat up. "Please, put mommy on the phone."

The escalation of your niece's cries sparked through your phone. "Daddy is crying because he says that mommy is not coming back. She's never coming back."

Part 3 and Part 4 are out on my Patreon for FREE!

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

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youcalledmebabe · 8 days ago

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15 P 𓅫 for Webgott please 🥰 I'm thinking Joe gets injured, which causes Web to confess feelings. Maybe they've just been casual up until the injury, or maybe nothings happened before, but Joe panics.

Hit me with that angst 🫡

build a fic

thank you for prompting, hope you enjoy :)

The front door of the apartment flies open and hits the wall the way it does when Joe is in a bad mood after work. Web never opens the door like that. Joe swallows and tucks his chin under the knit blanket, like he used to when he’d messed with Marie or Emilia too many times and his pop was due home any second.

He hears their—Web’s, he means—bedroom door open and then Web’s groan of frustration. Footsteps down the hallway and then Web appears in the doorway of the spare room, face red from the cold and chest heaving like he’d run home. His coat is still on, blue scarf thrown hastily around his neck. It makes his eyes look even bluer.

“You got in a car accident? And I had to hear about it from Old Man Wright?” Web demands.

Joe sighs. Old Man Wright—their nosy neighbor—must’ve been out for his daily walk. Too bad he hadn’t slipped on the ice and gone to the hospital himself, Joe thinks viciously. Big fucking mouth. Just like Web. “I would’ve told you when you got home, Christ.”

“Why wouldn’t you call me from the hospital? What happened?”

Joe decides to ignore the first question. “My cab slipped on some ice. Fucking Massachusetts. I hate winter. And then another car slammed into me.”

He does not mention that, in the split second as his cab drifted into the intersection, his only thought was Web. It hadn’t been some grand thought of love or fretting about what Web would do without him. Just a fleeting memory of Web sitting by the ocean last summer, turning his head to laugh, smile bigger than the sea.

When he’d thought he was going to die, for the first time since Belgium three years ago, his mind had decided his last thought should be David. And that’s…well, it’s not good.

Web softens and sits on the edge of the bed, tucking the blanket tighter around Joe’s feet. “Are you okay?”

Joe shrugs. “Broken ankle. Few bruises.”

In truth, his entire body aches but the unease he feels is much worse. He would’ve died thinking of Web. What the hell does that mean?

He knows what it means.

“How’d you get home from the hospital?”

“Walked.”

“On a broken ankle, Joe? Seriously?” Web scolds. “You could’ve hurt yourself worse. You should’ve called me.”

“What’s it to you?” Joe snaps.

“I love you,” Web says, face getting redder. “That’s what it is to me.”

And that’s what it means. Love was the reason he’d wanted to remember Web’s smile in his last moments, love was the reason he’d turned up at Web’s door in Cambridge a year and a half ago, love was the reason he’d scraped up enough money to buy a cab here and why he never slept in the bed he was in now and why Web refused to let him pay rent and—Joy and panic wage a war in Joe’s head.

The panic wins. He turns on his side to face the wall; this’ll be easier to do if he doesn’t have to look at Web. “Go away.”

Web puts a hand on Joe’s calf; the same spot his scar on his own body is. Joe feels like that must mean something. “Why, Joe?” he asks. Joe can hear the controlled frustration in his voice, can imagine the tension in his jaw as he tries not to jump to anger.

“Because I can’t go on my ankle.”

Web sighs and Joe feels his weight leave the bed. Then Web’s hand runs through his hair, gently, rubbing a thumb over his ear. It soothes Joe; he wants to sigh himself. How can Web be the source of the panic and the cure? Love. “I’ll go,” Web concedes. “But I’ll come back.”

A threat, or a promise. Maybe both. Or I will, Joe wants to answer, but he can’t bring himself to. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll get up in the morning, broken ankle and fucked up cab be damned, and drive until the gas runs out. Vanish into the distance. Never love again, Web or anybody else.

The door closes behind Web, quietly. Joe rolls back over. This bed is creaky, the blankets are scratchy, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep without Web’s breathing. He wishes he was back in their bed, or that Web would ignore what he said and show back up, crawl into bed, and hold Joe.

As he drifts off to sleep, his last thoughts are of David’s face, the blush on his cheeks when he’d said I love you, and he knows what that means, and what he has to do tomorrow.

#webgott #joe liebgott #david webster #gigi writes

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artisiumstudios · 4 months ago

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CHAPTER 1 SUCKAS

You Make Hell Tolerable

Chapter 1: Hey ma, I can’t call for a while

The car drove slowly around the icy curve, the rails on the side covered in dents and scratches. Some of them were broken off. Getting into a car accident would not be ideal to say the least. Especially right now. Stanley tapped his fingers nervously around the steering wheel, trying his hardest to control his ragged breaths. Just a few hours ago he had been lounging around his motel room– the first motel room he had been able to afford in months– when he had received it. A postcard from Gravity Falls Oregon with the words “Please Come!” scribbled on the back. Without even looking at who the sender was, he had already known who the postcard was from. He had copied off that handwriting for almost 13 years. In a flash he had packed the belongings he felt were important and had driven off into the snowy roads.

“Get yourself together Stan, this is what you've been waiting for,” he glanced over to his passenger seat, knowing that underneath all the food containers and failed lottery tickets laid the picture of two sweaty teenage boys with smiles as they cheered arm in arm. “It’s only your brother. Your twin brother, it’s no big deal. You know he’s just your brother. The one who let you get kicked out of- no. I'm not going down that road, I'm NOT going to hold onto any resentment. I screwed him over. I did this to myself.”

Stan quickly wiped his sweaty palms on his jacket, his pep talk doing nothing to ease his nervousness. He grimaced as he felt the soft texture of the jacket become rough for a second, the bloody stains –both his own and of others– and other various stains from these last few months being the reason his jacket was rough and peeling in places. Not to mention that he hadn't had a chance to wash half of his clothes in a hot minute, he was sure it was becoming a health hazard. Maybe he should make a quick pit stop at a laundromat, he couldn’t have the first time he was seeing his brother in 10 years be with a jacket that was probably growing a new type of mold on it, a bloodied shirt, and pants that were far too stiff for his own liking. Not only was his clothing disgusting physically, but he was sure that the smell he was emitting was any better. Sure he had finally managed to shower before he left the motel but that didn’t really matter if his clothing weren’t in a similar condition. At the red stoplight he quickly pulled out his wallet. 10 dollars. A sigh left his lips as he returned his wallet pack into his glove compartment. Well now he had a couple of choices. Either he could go to the laundromat and just save the rest of his money for gas but that meant he wouldn’t be able to eat unless he went to a grocery store and “borrowed” some food. But even then he wasn’t sure that even with the money he would have left over that it would be enough to even get him halfway to his destination. Sweet Moses, what was he doing? He could barely afford to keep himself alive and now he was driving half way across the country just cause his brother sent him a postcard. After ten years of silence, after getting the curtains shut on him and being kicked out over one stupid mistake he was really going to help Ford? He could barely help himself, how was he supposed to help Ford? He wasn’t smart, he was anything but smart. He was useless. Worthless. He ruined everything he touched, he would just ruin this too. He was going to ruin this. He was- He turned the radio on not wanting to spiral down that dark abyss any longer.

You packed in the morning, I stared out the window

And I, struggled for something to say

You left in the rain without closing the door

I didn’t stand in your way

But I miss you more than I, missed you before

Stanley groaned, what a cheesy song, although it did sound familiar. He turned the radio down trying to recall where he had heard that song before. Passing an old pawn shop the memory of a woman in a red dress and golden hoop earrings humming softly in a small kitchen while she prepared lunch for three little boys resurfaced. Ma had always been the sentimental type who often thought that little moments like those were the ones that mattered. Whether it was listening to music while cooking, or looking outside the pawns window watching as people walked by while waiting for a call. Although, now he understood what she meant. Stanley had started enjoying the small moments, they were the ones where he could finally allow himself to relax and not have to face reality, even if it was for only a few minutes. It was the small moments the ones that had brought him the most comfort in the last 10 years.

Well folks that was the top 50 songs that you can listen to while reminiscing where everything went wrong! This is your host McDazzle and it is January 26 of the year 1982!

Right, it was January. He had to call his mom and Shermie soon. Mostly his mom. Although being on the run meant he shouldn’t leave a trace, he also didn't want to worry his mom.

After Stan had been kicked out he had cried so much, leaving his face blotchy red and puffy for days on end. A horrible mixture of anger, sorrow, and disgust swirled inside him as he waited, as he hoped, that either Ford or his dad came looking for him. After a few days of nothing but the cold silence, he had driven out of New Jersey. Almost two weeks later he decided to call his mom. They were on the phone for 10 minutes before she apologized for letting him get kicked out.

“Maybe it will blow off in a few more days, you know your dad.” her tone was hopeful, optimistic.

But Stan knew his dad. He crossed the line and now he was on his own. He remained silent throughout most of the phone call but assured his mom that he would call often. He kept that promise for the most part, calling at least one a month. At times Shermie would join the conversation, telling Stan everything from what he ate that morning to how his teacher got him and his friend in trouble for passing notes. He enjoyed those calls, they always made him feel lighter and they cleared his mind, even if he couldn’t tell them everything. The months he was stuck in that prison in Colombia had been rough to put it lightly. Actually these last 3 years have been especially rough. Let’s just say Rico made sure he got his part of his pay back. At least the stitches weren’t sloppy.

Finally he passed a billboard, Welcome to Arizona. He made his way to a semi empty parking lot. His car was running low on gas and well, a little siphoning never hurt anyone. Especially if he did want to make it to Oregon without losing all of his money. Looking around he noticed a phone booth outside the small grocery store where he was parked. He quickly rummaged through his car for any spare change. He counted making sure he did in fact have 15 cents and quickly gave one last look around before heading inside the booth. Inside was graffiti varying from drawing of dicks to what appeared to be a muffin? But the one that caught his eye was a small yellow triangle with a tophat. A shiver ran down his spine, it was weird. Something about it rang an alarm in his head, an itch that he couldn't scratch. But why? Ignoring that, and that horrible smell that reminded him of that time he was inside a trunk, he swiftly inserted the coins into the machine and punched the 10 digit number he had memorized since he was 5.

Ring

Ri- CLICK

“That’ll be 99 cents.”

He chuckled, “Wow Ma, not even a discount for your son?”

“Stanley? Oh my god,” she laughed quietly.

“Yup, in the flesh, or I guess in the voice?” He overheard a voice in a background, followed by steps that got louder with every second.

“Oh my god! Hi big bro! How you been old man?”

“Old? I’m only 28 thank you very much,” He snorted before erupting into full laughter, “Geez, I am getting old arent I? Eh but i've been good, how about you squirt? Have you been giving ma shit?”

“Stanley language-”

“Just the normal amount!” The younger pines interrupted, “ But ive been great! You remember that girl I told you about?”

“Uh yeah, the brunette from- what was it, uhhhhh-”

“Yeah! Thats the one! I ASKED HER ON A DATE AND SHE SAID YES!”

“He’s been going out with her for 3 weeks now, they’re practically glued together up to this point.” Stan smiled softly, almost envisioning his mom rolling her eyes before letting her face fall into a small smile with her crow eyes showing ever so slightly. Moses he missed her.

“Proud of you squirt I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks! I was so nervous, you want to hear how I asked her out? Well I had to go buy flowers because well of course she deserves flowers, but when I went to the-”

“Hey, uh, Shermie.” It was his turn to interrupt him this time. “As much as I want to listen to your lovesick ramblings, I gotta head out soon, let me talk to Ma real quick.”

“Booooo LAMEEE.” Shuffling was heard over the phone before settling into a small silence.

“Ma?”

“Yes pumpkin?” Worried laced her voice.

“I, um… Look, I don't think I’ll be able to call for a while. I'm going to be heading out in a few, um I’m…” Should he tell her he’s meeting with Ford? He didn’t like lying to his mom, he never has, but the thought of getting her hopes up for a reunion that could end in heartbreak was too much for him to bear. “Look I'm going to be helping an old pal, I wanted to make sure to tell you before I left because there aren’t really any phones out where we are going. Didn’t want to worry you if it took longer than expected.”

Silence.

She sighed. “You’re lying aren’t you? Stanley I… I’ve been having nightmares, well more like a reoccurring nightmare. It’s you and Ford. It starts off with you two as babies. Everytime I close my eyes you grow up just a bit. And right before I wake up, I close my eyes once more, and when I open them, one of you is missing and the other is a shadow. Stanley, please promise me, you’ll be okay.”

Sorrow laced her voice making Stan’s skin feel like it was being stabbed with tiny frozen needles, his breath caught in throat almost suffocating him. He forced himself to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I promise ma.”

He had driven for almost a whole day and his body and mind felt exhausted. His mom’s words plagued his mind feeling the anxiety bubble in his stomach, his skin felt numb and cold. Driving became a rather difficult task, and unhappily he pulled over deciding that taking a nap would be rather beneficial.

His dreams consisted of two small boys running towards their mom, both wearing their skin red from the sun and babbling about a forgotten boat that was now theirs.

1 nap later and a quick stop for more gas and another to the laundromat, he was in front of a shack. It looked both brand new and worn down, as if no one had been caring for it. A wooden sign hung outside the door with red painting KEEP OUT. Okay? He hoped he was in the right place, shaking off any remaining nerves as he made his way to the door.

“Okay, moment of truth.” He knocked.

At first there was silence, followed by cursing and frantic shuffling. He straightened himself out. Finally the knob turned.

“WHO IS IT? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?”

A crossbow was shoved in Stan’s face. He gasped as he leaned away, capturing the aggressor's face. He recognized the features on his face as his own, apart from the bloodshot eyes and overgrown patchy beard, he could still recognize Ford.

“Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.”

“Stanley?” Ford lowered his crossbow and adjusted his glasses, studying Stan’s face. His eyes softened slightly as he recognized his twin. But it only lasted for a second. He pulled Stan inside as he flashed a light into his eyes. “Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all? Does anyone know you were coming here?”

“I-UGH HEY, what is this?” Stan pushed Ford stumbling lightly as his vision came back. “Ugh I- you know what it doesn’t matter, no I wasn’t followed.”

Ford relaxed, letting his shoulder hang as he let out a breath. “Sorry! I just had to make sure-uh. It’s nothing.”

Ford clutched his trench coat as he waved Stanley down further into his house. Papers littered almost every surface of the house along with various cups filled with brown liquid that gave the stench of coffee. Machinery was placed around what he presumed was the living room with various numbers and letters displaying on the screen. One of them had a triangular prism, another one appeared to just show an electrical current.

“Look, you're gonna explain what's going on here? You're acting like mom after her tenth cup of coffee.” Stanley exclaimed as he followed Ford up to his desk. He saw him look through some papers collecting a few pages and what appeared to be a hardcover red book.

“Listen there isn’t much time,” Ford turned around walking past Stanley, his voice laced with worry and exhaustion, one Stan himself was too familiar with. “I’ve made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore.

Stans eyebrows furrowed in concern.

��Hey easy there.” He placed what he hoped would be perceived as a reassuring hand on Ford’s shoulder, “Let’s talk this through, okay?”

“I have something to show you, something you won’t believe.”

“Look I've been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I'll understand.” Well world was an understatement and saying been could be better said as chased but that was a different story for another time. Ford looked sick, exhausted, on the verge of breaking. It was unsettling.

“There is nothing about this that I understand.”

Yes Stanley had never been the smart twin, or just smart period. But this? It looked like it came straight out of one of his old superhero comics. Like one of those where the hero has to stop a doomsday device that the villain of the story was creating to end all of humanity. And this was-it was, well it was something. It looked like a machine, its purpose unknown to Stan. The centerpiece was a huge upside triangle with bright blue symbols marked throughout the circular center it, what appeared to be circular beams receding on the sides. In front of it was a handle with a bright red button. He felt the little alarm in his brain go off once more.

“It’s a trans-universal gateway,” Ford explained, “a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction.”

Well guess I wasn’t that far off. Stanley though to himself.

Ford brought the book from earlier up to eye view. “That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it. There is only one journals left.” Ford walked up to Stanley, now clutching the journal with both his shaky hands. “And you are the only person I can trust to take it.”

He handed the journal over to Stan, who observed it with thoughtful eyes. The red leather felt rough against his fingers, in the center was a six fingered golden hand with the number 1 written on it with blank ink. It looked worn out. This was Ford’s research. And he was trusting Stanley with it. He still trusted him, even after all this time.

“I have something to ask of you.” Stan looked at him with hopeful eyes, “Remember our plans to sail the world on a boat?”

Oh? OH! This was it, everything Stanley had wanted. A smile broke on his face hope filling his body. Finally after all these years he was getting his brother back, even after messing up and being nothing but a burden he now had the chance to make up for it. He would help Stanford and now he would get to fulfill his dreams of traveling with his brother, his best friend!

“Take this book, get on a boat and sail as far away as you can. To the edge of the earth. Bury it where no one can find it” Ford turned his back and walked away.

His hope was immediately shattered, now replaced with raw anger. Of course. THIS is what he should've expected, THIS was Ford’s style, not a sappy family reunion that Stan had been hoping for. Of course he would only be useful to Ford if it meant getting him as far away as possible. He felt himself explode.

“That's IT?!” You finally want to see me after ten years and it’s to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?”

“Stanley, you don’t understand what I'm up against. What I've been through!”

“No no you don't understand what I've been through. I’ve been to prison in three different countries. I once had to chew my way out of a trunk of a car. You think you've got problems? I’ve got a mullet Stanford!” That last one sounded petty, but he understood the meaning of being too broke, too unable to even afford a haircut. But he doubted his brother would even understand. He was tired, oh so deeply tired, anxious, and devastated. “Meanwhile where have you been, living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money because you only care about yourself!”

“I'm selfish? I'M selfish, Stanley? How can you say that after costing me my dream school! I’m giving you the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won’t even listen!”

Stan felt his chest tighten, thinking about his worthlessness was one thing, but hearing it come out of the one person who you had always hoped cared even just a tiny bit was just agonizing. He felt that numbness from earlier return to his fingers, his eyes stung with tears that he would not allow to fall, a lump formed inside his throat. Maybe he should’ve listened and gotten out of there when Ford told him to, but of course, everything he does always leads to failure. Fuck it, it was too late to go back now.

“Well listen to this.” He pulled out his lighter “You want me to get rid of this book? Fine, I’ll get rid of it right now.” He held the flame right underneath the book, but two hands came pulling the book away from the flame. Stanley kept his grip tightly on the journal still having the lighter on in his other hand.

“NO! You don’t understand!” Fear flashed over Ford’s face, but it was too late for Stanley to care.

“You said you wanted me to have it so I’ll do what I want with it!. "Stan yanked the book holding it up against the flame once more.

“My research!”

Ford tackled Stan causing both of them to fall. The lighter fell next to Stan while the journal skidded across the floor towards their feet. Stan quickly swiped his lighter, placing it in his pocket. He turned around seeing Ford standing to get to his Journal. Stan pushed his foot out causing Ford to trip and land on his face. Stan stood up and ran grabbing the journal and heading towards the door.

“STANLEY GIVE IT BACK!” He felt himself once again being pushed, this time his back hit the metal door causing them to fall inside.

He landed over a control panel hearing some whirring come to life.

“You want it back? You’re going to have to try harder than that!” Stanley pushed against his brother's face, both falling against the floor once more. “You left me behind, you jerk! It was supposed to be us forever. You ruined my life! “ His voice was raw, croaking as he tried to hold back his tears. He continued to tug at the journal.

“YOU RUINED YOUR OWN LIFE!” Ford’s foot shot out pressing against his chest, he felt as his jacket burned off as hot searing pain made its way onto his right shoulder. Stanley screamed, his mind went blank, black dots spread throughout his vision, and he felt a coldness wash over his body. The smell of burned skin filled the room. Ford's foot finally stopped pressing against his skin.

“Stanley! Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” Knuckles connected to his face as pain was replaced by adrenaline. Stan got up clutching his shoulder, picking up the journal from where Ford had dropped it. He walked past him looking at the machine that was now swirling with life.

“Some brother you turned out to be. You care more about some dumb mysteries than your family. Ten years of silence, you didn’t care about anyone but yourself. Not until you needed something” He turned back to face his brother, his face contoured in anger. “Was I just a pawn in your game, sixer?”

“Don’t- DON’T CALL ME THAT” Ford pushed his brother once again landing on the floor with the amount of force he used.

Stan felt himself being lifted into the air. His body felt weightless, a force was pulling him back and he screamed.

“FORD- STANFORD WHAT’S GOING ON?”

“STANLEY- oh no no no NO!” Ford tried to stand up only to be caught in the wiring. Hands shook as he attempting to detangle himself he looked up as his twin got closer to the to the portal.

“STANFORD HELP ME! PLEASE, STANFORD HELP ME-” he fell through the portal. In an instant everything turned white. A shock wave caused Ford to land on his back as his brother's cries were drowned out.

Mechanical whirring eased to a stop. Screams were silenced.

Everything was silent.

Edit: forgot to include this lol (also I was in class when I drew this so ignore some of the notes lol)

#bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls au #reverseportalau #stanford pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #billford #the billford comes later #homeless Stanley pines #fanart #stanley fanart

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eddiesguitarskills · 2 years ago

Text

When We Were Young

Part 4

Ex Eddie Munson X reader

Other parts : 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Intro: 5 years have past since you packed up and left behind Hawkins. Well not all of it, as the people you met there are still a huge part of your life. But it's been 5 years since you had set a foot in the small town, 5 years since you left him.And now after all that time you were back.

Warning: angst, language, mentions of suicide, miscarriages, self harm, mental health.Arguments. Mentions of break ups. Female identity reader. Use of y/n

Bold parts are flashbacks

Word count: 3.4 k

A/n: please only read if you are in a good place, I wouldn't want this story to trigger or hurt anyone. I'm so sorry this took so long to write, I hope having some good flashbacks makes up for that.

Not Prove Read

It had been two weeks since you'd been back, with planning for the new school year, catching up with your family, seeing the Harrington's, and occasionally seeing your old friends, you hadn't had a chance to see Eddie. Not that he hadn't been consuming your thoughts, but having people around really helped that. However, your distractions were getting fewer and fewer as time went on. The younger members of your group were going back to school. Lucas went back to Kentucky last week, and Max and Will back to New York to study art two days ago. Mike and Jane went back to California yesterday. The settlement money coming to use for all the younger kids.

Dustin had left it as late as he could as he didn't want to miss a moment with you or his friends. Besides it's not like he had far to travel he went to Indiana Tech which was about an hour away from home. He was offered scholarships to ivy league schools, but he felt too guilty to take them. He worried that if he left the state something would happen and he wouldn't be there to fix it this time.

In his first year he travelled to school, but this year he was staying there. Eddie and Steve had convinced him that he needed to undergo the proper college experience and he was not going to do that in his mom's house. Especially with how anxious she was about everything he did, where he was, the fact that he couldn’t own a car despite having a driving license. Which is why he knew what they were saying was right. He needed a change, but he was also thankfully it was not too far away his anxiety couldn't survive that. He was glad he could come back whenever he needed, which might be sooner rather than later he thought as he still hadn’t spoken to Eddie since that night. He had tried many times but was met with silence. Eddie could be very dramatic so Dustin knew he would cool down eventually he just needed time. But today he had to leave he couldn’t wait for Eddie to talk to him anymore.

You turn the key walking into the Harrington’s house. You would knock but Nancy and Steve told you, this is as much your home as it is their’s so you come anytime you wanted. You did at least try to announce your arrival though as you never wanted to impose on them. Today was different as the pair knew you were coming to watch their three-year-old Rosie, while Nancy was at work and Steve took Dustin to college.

Steve was in the living room on the phone looking worried, tapping his foot rapidly, he looked up at you and slammed the phone back into the receiver. “I was trying to call you”. You look at your watch confused “am I late?” he shakes his head. “No it's just Nancy got in a car accident-”. You felt nerves fill your body, the same expression of worry on your face as his. “Is she okay?”. He nods slightly “they said it's just a slight concussion, and a few cuts but they need to keep her a few hours for observations”. As soon as you heard those words relief started to wash away the anxiety. You were still slightly upset that she was hurt but you were glad it wasn't anything serious. But you knew Steve all too well how he panicked about the people he loved, it was understandable with everything he had been through. “What are you waiting here for? Go. I've got Rosie as long as you need”. He hugs you, then grabs his jacket and keys.

You felt as if you were forgetting something like an annoying scratch you couldn't itch. Scratching away at your brain. Dustin. You almost forgot the reason you came to watch Rosie in the first place. “Should I ring Dustin and let him know?”. Steve opened the front door “no it's fine, I've already rang, Eddie is taking him”. You nod. Hoping he doesn't see you cringe at the mention of your ex’s name.

Beep. Beep. Dustin looked outside the window to see his friend. Well with how Eddie had been avoiding him he wasn't sure what their relationship was. At least now he would get a chance to talk to the headstrong man before he went to college. Eddie showed no sign that he was getting out of the car, which made Dustin worry he would have to move all of the boxes to his van by himself. He didn’t have many as he tried to keep the packing light, since it was a shared dorm room. But they were still heavy boxes, and at least five of them. Plus a suitcase. Maybe this was Eddie’s way of punishing him.

Dustin bent down to get the first box which was full of engineering books, his knees made a clicking sound on the way down. It hurt a bit but he powered through exiting the front door over to Eddie’s car. Only now the man wasn’t in the front seat he was standing by the back of the van with a cigarette in his mouth. He pulled the box from Dustin’s hand and put it in the trunk. Dustin thanked the man but he still said nothing, he just nodded to show he had heard him. Eddie walked over to Dustin’s house and started to retrieve the boxes. Keeping the cigarettes lit and in his mouth. Now and then using his hand to pull it out to tap the ash. It felt like a slap in the face for Dustin who had tried so hard to get Eddie to quit, and maybe that was why Eddie was doing it, another form of punishment. The reality was he smoking because he was stressed, and the slight burn to his throat was enough to ease the thought even for a second.

When all the bags were secured in the back of the van they set off. The tension could be cut with a knife. Eddie didn’t hate Dustin, he was just scared that he was losing him to you as well, which had no real logic behind it. In fact with how Eddie had been ignoring his friend, he was causing the problem himself. Having enough of the awkward tension Dustin decided to be the bigger person, “so how’s the bar?” Eddie nods “good”. Eddie wanted to hit himself why was he being so awkward it’s like recently he couldn’t get rid of his foul mood. Since you had come back a dark cloud had formed over his life.

He still didn’t understand if you could come back now why couldn’t you come back before? Maybe then you both could have fixed things. “We really need to get you a car, can’t have me and Harrington being your chauffeurs forever” he tries to joke but the tone of his voice doesn’t show that. Dustin agrees; thankful to hear Eddie’s voice even if he wasn’t a cheery one. It was better than the silent treatment.

Dustin was going to use this time stuck in a car with Eddie to his advantage. The worse that could happen is he wouldn’t talk to him again, with him going to college it was now or never. “About that night at Steve’s-“ Eddie turns his radio up to ignore the conversation. For years everyone had avoided talking about you, now he would have to get used to hearing your name again. However, nothing could prepare him for the hurt just a name could cause. Dustin lowered the radio “trust me I know you don’t wanna hear about her but the reality is she’s here now. So wouldn’t it be better to be able to vent or ask any questions to someone you trust?”. Dustin was always too smart for his own good, of course, what he was saying was right, not that Eddie wanted to admit that. Dustin had been the only person that had seen him break down about it and he never told anyone. I guess that’s what hurt him the most that night at Harrington’s, Dustin had seen how hurt he was about this, but from the looks of it seemed like he and you were still friends it didn’t make sense.

He banged on Dustin’s door again and again until he got an answer. The young boy answered, still in his pjs as it was three in the morning. He came to the door quickly scared someone had happened with the upside down again. What he didn’t expect to see was Eddie with bloodshot eyes, panicked. Before he had time to ask questions Eddie was speaking. “Do you know where she is?”. Shit, maybe it was the upside-down Dustin thought. “We fought, she couldn’t have just left like that, that’s not what people do. Do they?”. Dustin couldn’t understand fully what was happening but he knew it was about you, he had never seen Eddie looking like this, he looked worse than when he was accused of murder. “Eddie why don’t you come inside, we can figure this out together”. Tears started to pour from Eddie’s eyes so many that he felt like he was choking on them.

“I don’t get it” Eddie mutters under his breath if it wasn’t for the tight conforms of the van Dustin might have not heard it. “Which part?”. Eddie pulls the van to a stop at a red light and looks over at his younger friend “all of it”. There is quietness in the car. Dustin doesn’t know what to say. It wasn’t a question so he isn’t sure how to answer, or even if there was a right answer. There wasn't a book to help him explain all of this or if there was he hadn't found it yet. Eddie was sick of the silence and glad for the green light so he doesn't have to look at Dustin when he speaks. “What happened?” Dustin sighs “I didn’t expect you to come, I was trying to warn-“. Eddie grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. “That’s not what I mean”. Dustin didn’t want to betray your trust but Eddie was his best friend so he was in an awkward situation. “I don’t know.” The man took his eyes off the road for a second to glare at his friend “bullshit”. Even with his eyes back on the road, Dustin was still scared.

He knew he had to tell the truth but even he didn’t know that. He only knew what Steve revealed while drunk one night. “She- ”, Eddie didn’t want to be lied to anymore he needed the truth, maybe it would help the nightmares. “I honestly don’t know much”. Eddie’s nostrils flared, as he sighed. “Please don’t lie to me”. Dustin couldn’t bare to look at his friend so he looked out the window “I’m not, all I know is she had… I don’t know…. A breakdown or something… it was bound to happen to one of us… you know what this place can do to you, so she ran and I don’t exactly blame her. She seems so much better… but whenever you or the upside-down or Hawkins was mentioned I could see this pain behind her eyes. I knew that look well, I’d seen it in the mirror but it seemed worse for her.”

Eddie felt like a knife had been pierced through his chest, you were suffering and he didn’t even notice. Was it after the fight? Before? Had the fight pushed you over the edge? If only you would had talked to him maybe he could have helped. Why did you have to be so difficult? Maybe he was the difficult one. Maybe if he would have talked to you more, you wouldn't have ran. For years he had convinced himself you had abandoned him, you were the bad guy but maybe it was always more complex than that.

It had been a couple of hours since you had heard from Steve, despite him saying it wasn't severe, with the lack of communication you had started to worry. You were also not sure what to tell Rosie, so you tried different ways to distract her. Watching her favourite film, the little mermaid on repeat. Have a tea party, baking and now your least favourite game question time with a 3-year-old. It was at moments like this you could tell who her mother was. She had started with the easy question favourite colour? favourite princess? The best my little pony? Who was your Favourite 3-year-old? Now she had started on the more hard-hitting questions and it's not like you could avoid answering, because she would pester you with ‘why’ until she got a response.

“Do you have a husband?” you shake your head, surprised she could say such a big word and even more surprised by the question. “no, do you think I need one?”. The little girl considered the question “ it would make you happy”. There were a lot of layers to the girl's question and even more with her response. You wanted to tell the girl you didn't need a man to be happy but she was three and obsessed with Disney princesses, you weren't sure she would understand. So you poke her sides to tickle her and tell her “I get to spend time with my favourite person, I'm very happy”. The girl pout and shakes her head. “Not like mommy and daddy”. You smile, not wanting to get into your need to be single with a child. In fact, you didn't want to admit out loud that you were scared to be in a relationship, that deep down you never got over- no you could not think that. “Well that's because mommy and daddy are like prince charming and Cinderella. I'm like the fairy godmother. The fairy godmother is happy to help others and doesn't have a husband”.

The girl crosses her arms, and pouts her lips more. She looked adorable, but she didn't look in the mood to be told that. “No you are a princess, not a fairy godmother” she stated like a fact that you should know. The truth is it had been so long since you felt special that it felt weird for someone to describe you this way. The compliment from a three-year-old meant an awful lot to you, more than you would like to admit.

A week before the events that led to Eddie being accused of murder, you had been feeling super unwell. You weren't sure what was wrong with you, maybe it had something to do with your missed period but you were too scared to find out. You were lying on Eddie's bed not wanting to move. He had assumed you were about to get your period as this is how you would usually act during that time, so he got all of your comfort snacks. You groaned when he turned on the light. “I'm sorry princess, but I brought snacks does that make up for it”. You grumble “it depends on the snack” he hands the bag over to you, which is filled with your favourites, you root through it “I guess you're forgiven”. You spot a red shiny package, you read the writing ‘ring pop’.

Pulling it out you show it to him “you better not be proposing when I feel like death” he shakes his head, “no when I propose I promise it will be the cheesy thing ever, that has ever happened. The more embarrassing for you, the better”. You fake laugh at him, but aren't able to wipe the smile off your face at the thought of your future together. “I guess it's kind of a promise that one day you will be my wife...I like the sound of that, my wife” “ he gets on the bed with you pulling you into his chest. Eddie Munson was truly the sweetest boy around. Maybe having a child would be too bad if you had him holding your hand through it.

You gesture to yourself up and down “you sure you want to make a promise that like that when I look like this?” he nudges your knee teasingly “well you know what they say for better... Or worse”. You playfully hit his arm pretending to be annoyed. “Well, now I'm definitely not sharing my snacks with you.”

You nod choosing to agree with the girl to hopefully move her on to the next question. “Why you not live here before?” oh God maybe the relationship question was better. “Because I lived in England”. The girl looks confused “why?” you smile. How could you decide anything that happened to a small child when it was confusing enough for you to understand? “Because I didn't want my aunt to be alone”. You knew what word was going to come from Rosie's mouth next “why?”

“Because- umm” you had begun to speak out of instinct but you didn't know what to say. “Mummy says you were sad. I missed you. made daddy sad, and me sad”. Don't cry. Whatever you don't cry. You are grown-up, you have to stay strong. Rosie was smart for her age but there was still a world of hurt you wanted to protect her from. You lift her onto your lap hugging her “I'm sorry, sometimes being a grown-up is hard. And we have to be a little mean to be happy”. Before she could say the same phrase you spoke again “because life isn't always far but it can be amazing when it wants to be”. The girl didn't speak again she just pondered the words not completely understanding but wanting to show she was a big enough girl to get it. You could see a frown forming on her face, so you gently rubbed it away. “Don't worry, it's confusing for grown up too”.

The front door opened bringing an end to the conversation you two were having. The girl jumped off your lap running to her parents. She cuddles Nancy’s leg. You follow behind, thankful to see your friend only with a few scratches. You hug her too, quickly and carefully to not get in the way or kick Rosie. “That’s not far you can't look that pretty after a car accident”. She pushes you away. “Ha ha very funny”. You shake your head “I'm not joking” you look down at the little girl “see I told you, your mommy was Cinderella”. Steve straightens his back and pretends to flex his muscles “does that make me prince charming?” he made it too easy sometimes. “No, that makes you the pumpkin”.

Eddie and Dustin had been stuck in the car for an hour and a half, since the unexpected reveal, they hadn't said much. Or at least Eddie hadn't heard much, all he could think about was you. Which wasn't a change as you had been all he thought about since you came back, but these thoughts came with new feelings, guilt, and confusion. They finally pulled to a stop outside the dorms. Dustin was about to get out when Eddie put his hand out to stop him. “What should I do?”. Dustin shrugs “I don't think they are any answer for that, you are two broken people. I'm not sure even one of you can fix that, but maybe being nicer would be a start”.

Eddie nods, “when did you get so smart?”. Dustin smiled, the Eddie he knew and loved was there, even if it was only briefly. “I'm surprised I haven't lost brain cells being friends with you”. The man laughed, he couldn't even pretend to care about the insult. The thing is no matter if they bicker or fight the two were brothers nothing would change that. And only now the realisation was kicking in that Eddie had been so stubborn about feeling betrayed, that he had missed the time he could have spent enjoying his best friend's last weeks in town before he moved. Of course, he wasn't far and they would still talk. But he wonders how many problems he would solve if he should stop being so stubborn, believing he was always right when he never had any of the answers.

Taglist

@sidthedollface2 @chonkzombie @mxcheese

@ariacraigggg @chickennug90 @nope-thanks

@rockautumnfanfic @foreveranexpatsposts

@secretdryrose @munsonzzgf @ashlynnkennedy

@violetsandroses8 @sashaphantomhive

@r-a-d-i-O-n-O-w-h-e-r-e @emma77645

@aysheashea @supernatural-1983 @cutiecusp

@1paire2vans @anonymousstoryteller2000

@harrys-tittie @hsmygolden @gretavankleep37

@mmalemanipulator @brxkenartt @ly17

@micheledawn1975

#Spotify #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x yn #older eddie munson #stranger things imagines #stranger things

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fallingforel · 1 year ago

Note

Louis and 70 pls 💗💗💗

A/N good morning, afternoon and evening (have to cover all bases because who knows where people may be in the world its evening for me loves 🫶) of course I would be glad to write this for you (sorry it took me so long to get round to it) on with the showww. OH and I'm gonna make you part of 1d in this hehhehe

PROMPT 70:“I don’t want you… I need you.”

Words: 1,094

warnings: mentions of death via car accident, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sick, mentions of sex its a generally fluff piece though so hope you enjoy.

Life was great at the moment, I was living life to the heights I'd never thought I'd get to 3 years ago when I was a little 19 year old who just lost both parents in a car crash to a teenage drunk driver who knew no better than what I did at that age, I performed on the x-factor stage after my mum told me to "chase your dreams sweetheart" getting me to where I am now. In a band with 5 boys we love performing every night recording our albums and I get to do it with my best friends in tow.

"So. If you guys didn't know. One of our band members has a birthday tomorrow, but we're not playing a show tomorrow. So can you make this show extra special for us? Her family couldn't be here tonight, because they're in better places. So can you make her feel superrr loved for us?" Louis asked the crowd that we were performing to in stockholm tonight. They screamed back.

"You know I think I see a sign over there that says Y/n we love you, we can be your family, there's another one that says We love you y/n happy birthday. There's another one that says I love Y/n more than free wifi. Wow Y/n you are getting the love tonight" Louis said making the crowd scream loud at that part.

"I think we should sing Happy Birthday to Y/n don't you think?" Harry asks which earns multiple yeses from the boys and screams erupting from the crowd and a shake of the head from me.

"okay okay. 3, 2, 1"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR Y/N HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU"

"I think that's the loudest happy birthday I've ever had. Thank you. Now time for one of our fans favourites this is teenage dirtbag"

⋆｡°✩

Running off the stage on our Very high high.

"LOUIS!!!" "Y/n, Love you did so great" Is all he says before he's pulling me into a very big hug and swooping me up into the air and then finally putting me down and letting go after much protest on his behalf but me saying I can't breathe did the job

"Thank you for that happy birthday. It was honestly the most love I've ever felt from one of our shows." "yeah well it was all for you and you did it. Happy birthday love" "thank you Louis" Is all I say before I'm pulling him into a hug again in which he wraps his arms around my torso and placing chaste kisses on top of my head.

"And you mean to tell me they aren't together?" Niall speaks up from beside Harry where they are both watching Louis and I from the wall just a few feet out of earshot. But I still heard it. "Yes we are very much not together."

⋆｡°✩

Louis and I decided to go out to celebrate my birthday, wanting to bring in my 22nd birthday with me. As I had no-one to have a phone call from so Louis decided to take my mind off of it and go celebrate. The other boys were too tired to celebrate I don't blame them so it was just Louis and I

"Lou it's getting late its like 3, we should probably get back. I'm gonna spew my guts if i drink another drop" "yeah that's probably wise me too, come on then dove" "That's a new one?" "yeah, they represent peace and that's what you've always shown. Even when you found out who hit your parents when you racked up the money, you were so calm, you were the one to apologise when you saw how guilty it felt. If that was my mum in the car I'd be saying all kinds of nasty shit to the driver who killed her. Guess that's what I like about ya, dove" "thanks lou but they also represent innocence and purity and I'm none of those two things am I lou?" "No I suppose your not but you do have a pure soul and I guess that is what matters the most" "alright stop with the spirituality mr donny. and lets get back to the tour bus I'm exhausted"

⋆｡°✩

we get back in and I sit at the kitchen table nursing a whiskey and louis looks at me funny

"what?" "thought you were gonna spew if you drank another drop of alcohol?" "thats different." "how?" "whiskey I can drink slowly, you made me literally DOWN shots" "thats the thing about you that makes me love you Y/n" I just burst out laughing because it wasn't true, the guy I liked had been crushing on ever since 2010 at the first group auditions stage liked me back. "yeah okay" "no I'm being deadly serious" "you're drunk lou. Go to bed" "No, I'm being deadly serious Y/n." "You just want me because your drunk Louis, I'm being serious" "and I'm being serious when I say I want you. Actually no fuck that, I don’t want you… I need you." "Louis you have to mean it because I am not going down that hole of where we mess about like silly fucking teenagers because we're past that point, being teenagers I mean we're fucking adults" "As serious as a heart attack, I love you darling" I jump into his arms where he drowns me into a heavy snog, "Fuck lou. I love you too."

⋆｡°✩

Last night was one of the best nights ever somehow after everything I ended up in Louis' bunk, the reminder of that was Louis kissing my shoulderbone waking me up from my post-sex slumber "Louis, You seen Y/n" Harry shouts from outside Louis' bunk which earns a giggle from me, ultimately making louis clamping his hand over my mouth. "NAH MATE, HAVEN'T SEEN HER SINCE WE GOT IN LAST NIGHT" I lick his hand that is covering my mouth "DID YOU JUST LICK MY FUCKING HAND!" "Lou who have you got in there?" which makes harry open the bunk, meeting eyes with the both of us "HOLY FUCK. Y/N AND LOUIS FUCKED." which makes the remainder of the boys (excluding louis.) scream from their respectful places on the bus "FINALLY WAS ABOUT FUCKING TIME" and then ultimately zayn says "SHIT NOW WE HAVE TO DEAL WITH THEM FUCKING LIKE RABBITS"

⋆｡°✩

lets just say that night in stockholm lead to a certain song on four with the same place name, that I wrote.

⋆｡°✩

end.

#louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson #6thmemberof1d #one direction x reader #one direction #harry styles #liam payne #zayn malik #niall horan #louis tomlinson fluff #one direction fluff

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thesplendidspiderweaver · 4 months ago

Text

Just your friendly neighborhood menace!!

(This is a spiderverse rp account.)

I’m Spider-Weaver! But most spider-people just call me Weaver. I’m 19 years old and I live in New York.

Any pronouns but They/Them is the most accurate

Only Spider People allowed below the cut

My name is Carmen. I go to Cornell University and I’m a bioengineering major. I got my powers in a lab accident at an internship with my best friend Collie. We both got bitten by different spiders.

I don’t know why there were so many radioactive spiders in one location, but I’ve been investigating the sponsor of the lab, Luther Brown. I have reason to believe that he is a supervillain. (He’s rich)

Anyway, this has been my audition for spider-society?? Please let me in! G’bye!!

Ooc: so I have a whole notes page for this character that I made years ago so I’m just gonna copypaste it here so yall have more context

Weaver

The Splendid Spider-Weaver

Origin

Weaver was an arachnologists intern to make money during their junior year in college. They worked alongside their best friend, Collie. The lab was in the middle of a top secret experiment exposing different types of spiders to radiation to try and identify the kind of spider that bit the original spider-man and therefore discover some of his weaknesses.

When spider-man learned about it, he enacted a virtual attack to corrupt the data. This, however, caused a panic in the lab, leading to a few of the spiders escaping.

One of the many bit Weaver. This particular spider was a Splendid Dwarf Spider.

Weaver, after discovering what had happened, started to investigate the lab and it’s funders. Namely, Luther Brown, a shady young man with a strange obsession with spider-man.

Abilities

Weavers super abilities are limited, but enough.

The webs they produce aren’t the normal “spider-man” webs and are rather cotton like Sheet Webs. Though they are still sticky, they can’t shoot out in strings like the original Spider-man’s can. Weavers webs are used mainly for sticking, securing, and padding. (Weaver is quite a bit smaller than their suit suggests, but the stuffing of web makes it much safer for them to fight and be places that are high up.)

Weaver does have a healing factor, though it is weak.

They have minimal super strength, limited to the weight of a standard car.

Weaver’s main ability, however, is psychic. When the spider bit Weaver, their vision split into four, making it quite a headache for them to see anything. In their normal day attire, they have a pair of glasses designed to stifle the other three sights. In their suit, however, they have eyes built in to effectively split the sights into different paths that feed a computer interface and interpret the signals. This gives Weaver thermal vision, and mind reading capabilities. The last sight that Weaver gained from the spider was something that Weaver considered to be a person’s “vibe.” With this information, they were able to code a system to identify the vibe and hypnotize people. Keep in mind that hypnosis only works with getting people to do things they aren’t opposed to doing.

Weaver also excretes toxic jelly from their fingertips involuntarily that can cause people to pass out.

Core beliefs

Nemesis

Weavers nemesis is the aforementioned Luther Brown. A rich, straight, cis, white boy that has way more power and money than he could ever earn. He was born into a billionaire family and uses insider trading to game the stock market and only get richer. He is a Viola player, and though he is very talented, most of his orchestra positions and solos were bought rather than earned. He has followers by the barrel that seek out information for him. As previously mentioned, he has a strange obsession with Spider-man rooted in admiration and jealousy.

His alter ego is known as the recluse. A cannibal that leaves viola music playing at every crime scene he makes. He tends to leave the victims head at the crime scene as well.

He gained his abilities from being bitten by the brown recluse spider at the lab. He did this on purpose to gain similar abilities to Spider-Man however slightly stronger so that Recluse could capture him of so desired.

Recluse, though well known and feared to the civilians, is under no investigation by the police and never appears in official news. Though the crimes are reported, the offender remains nameless despite having a name. This is because Luther Brown has paid off the police to not investigate these mysterious murders.

Possible dialogue

Recluse: You know, Collie will die

Weaver(pissed): now is not the time to be threatening me

Recluse: it’s not a threat. It’s a prediction. All spider-men have had a caretaker figure die, and yours is Collie.

Weaver: good thing I’m not a spider-man then

Recluse(smug): then what are you?

Weaver: Spider-Weaver

Recluse: many spider-men have had different names

Weaver: I’m not a man

Recluse: then what ARE you?

Weaver: a communist

Recluse(getting annoyed): what’s in your pants?

Weaver(rifling through their pockets): I got some doubloons, uhhh, a mint, you could use that, and I got this (flips him off)

Recluse: >:(

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months ago

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From Hell to Home to Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

Warning for some sexual situations. I don't go into detail because I suck at smut. But still, I shall slap a 18+ MINORS DNI on this chapter.

@emen-98 @1lostsoul0fishbowl @vulpixsworld

Prologue . . . Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

December turned into January, before long it was March. Would it really be a a couple more months that Chrissy and Eddie would celebrate their one year anniversary? Chrissy gasped with realization, and she nearly dropped the cup cake she brought over for Eddie. She had been in the hospital when Nancy and Steve were supposed to celebrate their one year anniversary. Ooh, maybe they could celebrate together when the time came. That idea could wait until later. She pushed open the front door of the Munson trailer.

"You should really lock the door, Wayne," Chrissy said.

"Why would people bother? We don't have anything worth stealing," Wayne asked without looking up from his gardening magazine.

"Uncle Wayne, you and Eddie are worth stealing!" Chrissy exclaimed.

"You are sweeter than pumpkin pie, darling," Wayne said.

"How's your leg?" Chrissy asked.

A few weeks ago, Wayne had gotten into a car accident and broken his leg. The truck was in the shop, and Eddie was working his ass off to pay the bills. It had sucked because it had meant taking a break from school as Eddie was now working at Thatcher's Tire, the plant, as well as dealing drugs. Chrissy helped out whenever she could, and without Eddie looking. He insisted he was fine, but Chrissy would hide money inside the couch and also under Eddie's dresser. When she would help Wayne with the laundry, she would sneak bills from Surfer Boy into Eddie's pants.

"It's getting better every day," Wayne said. "Are those for Eddie? I thought Eddie didn't want to make a big deal for his birthday?"

"It's just a cupcake and a teddy bear, Uncle Wayne," Chrissy said innocently.

"I don't believe you, sweetheart," Wayne said, chuckling.

"You should never believe a witch, Uncle Wayne," Eddie's voice came from the hallway. "My love!"

Sleepily, Eddie bent down and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her neck. Chrissy laughed and wrapped her arms around him as best she could, nuzzling her cheek against his hair. Eddie pulled back and looked at her.

"How are you doing?" Chrissy asked.

"I feel absolutely good today. I finally had a day off today, and was able to sleep in," Eddie sighed. "What are you doing here on this wonderful morrow of March the Twelveth. . .an absolute boring day of no importance?"

"You know damn well it's your birthday, Eddie," Chrissy said. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Well, I wasn't going to say it," Eddie said, kissing her. "I get a cupcake and a teddy bear? A teddy bear wearing a cheerleading uniform and has their own little wooden guitar?! Holy shit, how did you do that?"

"I know a guy who widdles," Chrissy said.

"You know a guy who widdles?" Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes. I know a guy."

"You know a guy?"

"Eddie!"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, son," Wayne said.

"You're right. You're absolutely right! Thank you, I love - Goddamnit, it's Argyle! Argyle widdles!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his forehead.

"I love you. What do you want to do for your birthday?" Chrissy asked.

"You don't have anything planned?" Eddie asked.

"No, not until tonight," Chrissy said.

"Oh, good. Do you think we can just lay in bed and do nothing?" Eddie said. "I really feel like doing nothing with you."

"It's your day, babe," Chrissy said.

"No pants?"

"No pants."

"Eddie!" Wayne yelled.

"I said I was going to do nothing, Uncle Wayne! Chrissy is not nothing!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Do you want me to read to you?" Chrissy asked.

"Ooh! Can you do the voices?" He pleaded.

"Yes, Eddie, I can do the voices," she laughed.

"You read, and I'll just keep pretending like you're not helping out financially," Eddie grinned.

"You know?" She asked. "You're not mad?"

"At you just trying to help? Never," Eddie said and booped her nose before dragging her into his room. "Now, what are we going to name this gal?"

He held the teddy bear fondly and Chrissy grinned.

"Well, I like Teddy Henderson," Chrissy said. "But it's your bear."

"I love it!" Eddie said. "And fair since Peggy has my last name."

With Teddy clutched firmly in his arms, Eddie crawled into his bed with Chrissy after they shrugged off their pants. He opened the cupcake box and watched as Chrissy dug under his bed to grab a book. The first one she had grabbed was the Hobbit. She knew him so well. Chrissy settled against the headrest and began to read. After finishing the cupcake, that he occasionally fed to Chrissy as well, Eddie laid down on her chest as she read as he clutched Teddy.

"I could live here forever," Eddie said.

"In this trailer?" Chrissy asked.

"God, no, on top of your heart," Eddie scoffed and smiled. "It seems like a nice place to live."

Chrissy smiled and pushed his bangs back to kiss his forehead. She was so keeping him. They both ended up drifting off and taking a nap until lunchtime. Chrissy insisted on getting up and making lunch for all three of them. Wayne was still in his cast, and it was Eddie's birthday. After lunch, they all gathered in the living room. Eddie was wedged between Chrissy and Wayne with no way to get free as Wayne opened up Eddie's baby book. He did this every year on Eddie's birthday. He pretended like he was embarrassed by it, but Chrissy knew he actually loved it. Wayne closed the book when he showed Chrissy the last picture.

"I'm proud of you, boy," Wayne said.

"You tell me that every year," Eddie muttered. "Why?"

"Because you always find the strength to get back up when you've fallen," Wayne said. "And you always do better."

"It's because of you, my friends, and Chrissy," Eddie said.

"Not all of it, son, don't sell yourself short," Wayne said.

"I don't think I'm going to graduate this year, Uncle Wayne," Eddie frowned.

"Well, that's due to unforeseen circumstances," Wayne said.

"And because of Principal Kissmyass," Eddie said.

"Kissenger," Chrissy and Wayne corrected.

"You're going to get there. You're more determined than any of us Munsons ever were," Wayne said. "And you've been working really hard. . .we see it, maybe not to them, but to us. Happy birthday, my boy. I love you."

Eddie sniffled as Wayne pressed a kiss into his hair. He buried his head into Wayne's chest and let him hold him. Chrissy watched them fondly, her heart swelling at the sight. After that, they all cuddled up against Wayne and watched MASH reruns. It was a good birthday for all of them, especially Wayne, since he couldn't get Eddie anything or do anything because of his leg. Chrissy knew that Eddie appreciated him being there more than anything that Wayne could have gotten him. Eventually, it was time for Chrissy's evening plans for Eddie.

"Are you sure you're going to be fine by yourself?" Eddie asked Wayne.

"I'll be fine, boy! Go on and celebrate with your sweetheart," Wayne replied.

"I mean, are you really sure?" Eddie asked.

"Granny Ecker will be coming by to check on me. You don't need to worry," Wayne said.

"But - "

The door front door opened, and Ronnie's grandmother came in from behind him. Sometimes, it was a blessing, and sometimes, it was a curse that Eddie now lived across from her in the trailer where Ronnie once lived. She now had easy access to him if she thought he needed a good wack with a spoon.

"You heard your uncle! You need a break from working too hard, and your uncle needs a break from you! Now, get!" Granny said.

"Okay! Fine! I'm going!" Eddie exclaimed as he was pushed out the door by his own girlfriend.

"Have a lovely time, Chrissy!" She called out.

"Thanks, Granny!"

"Why is she nicer to you?!" Eddie asked.

"Because she's cuter than you and not a pain in the ass," Granny said.

"I thought old people were supposed to be deaf," Eddie grumbled.

"I heard that!"

"She's not wrong, though," Eddie said as he held out his hand to help her into the van. "You are definitely cuter than me."

"I beg to differ," Chrissy giggled.

"Now, where are you taking me?" Eddie asked.

"The Hideout," she said.

"The Hideout?" He asked as he started the van. "Alright, I'm trusting you, Henderson."

Chrissy giggled as she yanked him by the hand, pulling him towards the bar. He kept looking doubtfully at her. She pulled him inside, outright laughing at the look on his face. His mouth hung open.

"You're going to catch flies," Chrissy said.

"This place looks a lot cleaner than when I left it," Eddie said. "Holy shit, it actually looks like she could serve customers in this place!"

"Yeah," Steve said as he popped up from behind the bar with a grin. "She made us work our asses off to clean up the place in exchange for letting us use it for our party."

"Stevie!" Eddie cackled delightfully.

Steve hopped over the bar, looking just as happy to see him.

"Eddie!" Steve yelled and pulled him into a hug. "Oh, fuck, I missed you! I haven't seen you since you started to work."

"I'm quitting tomorrow," Eddie sighed. "God, your hair smells just as good as I remember it."

Nancy came out from the storage room to join Chrissy in staring at their boyfriends.

"So when do you think they'll be leaving us for each other?" Nancy asked.

"If not tonight, then tomorrow," Chrissy giggled. "They'll definitely be making out by the end of the night."

"That would be so tragic," Nancy said sarcastically and giggled with Chrissy.

Steve and Eddie broke away from the hug to glare mockingly at their girlfriends.

"Yeah, no, we're definitely leaving you tonight," Steve said as he secured an arm around Eddie's waist.

"They just don't understand us, baby," Eddie said.

Nancy laughed and pulled Steve out of Eddie's arms, yanking him into her own.

"You're mine, asshole," she said and kissed him harshly.

Steve broke the kiss, laughing. He brushed his nose up against her.

"So jealous," he giggled and kissed her softly.

Chrissy grinned at them, glad they finally found their footing. It wasn't perfect, but they found their way back to each other, and they were continuously working on bettering their relationship. Steve was still on the basketball team, but he had quit the swim team, and he wasn't going to do baseball this year. He was currently looking for a part-time job. Nancy had managed to join the paper when Chrissy had been in her coma, and she had missed Steve buying Nancy a fedora. Nancy wouldn't stop bragging about it or about the fact that Steve was now growing out his chest hair.

"So, Nancy would definitely kick our asses if we stole her boyfriend," Eddie whispered. "Noted."

Chrissy giggled and slapped his chest. She pulled him further into the bar, leading him towards the back with the stage. Black, white, and red streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner was hung up behind the bar along with Eddie's mugshot that she had gotten from Hopper when he had arrested him a while back when he first started dealing. The charges had been dropped, though, when the evidence mysteriously disappeared. According to Eddie, he had smoked it with Hopper. It was strange to think he was now dealing to her uncle, but Eddie was also now dealing to his own uncle, so maybe it was fair. The others were gathered around the stage: Argyle, Robin, Jonathan, and Heather, who had brought Tina. Gareth was standing next to them as well. Meanwhile, Jeff and Frankie were on stage setting up with two others hidden in shadow.

"Is Corroded Coffin playing tonight?" Eddie frowned. "I haven't practiced with them in weeks."

"You won't be playing tonight," Chrissy said.

"Eddie, man, happy birthday!" Argyle exclaimed and wrapped him in a bear hug.

"Thanks, brochacho," Eddie grinned, and Argyle laughed. "Oh, and thank you so much for Teddy's little guitar. She loves it."

"Aw, so the bear has a name?" Argyle asked.

"Yes, she and Peggy are lesbians," Eddie said.

"They are?" Chrissy asked.

"Don't you think?" Eddie asked.

"They are," Chrissy agreed.

"Nice," Argyle said.

"Well, Teddy definitely needs to have a sleepover with Peggy one night and soon," Chrissy whispered in his ear.

"Definitely," Eddie giggled.

He hugged Jonathan, Robin, Heather, and even Tina just as tightly as he hugged Argyle. Tina grinned as Heather elbowed her.

"Told ya he ain't so bad," Heather grinned. "And even he shares your theories that we aren't alone in the universe."

"If there are a million different species living on this Earth, then why can't there be a trillion more species out there in the rest of the universe?" Eddie asked.

"I totally agree!" Tina exclaimed.

"They're going to be a while," Heather told Chrissy, and she laughed, agreeing with Heather.

After learning about the Upside Down, it only solidified Eddie's theories about aliens. Chrissy believed in aliens, too. It would be stupid not to after everything she went through, but nowhere near as fanatically as Eddie or Tina, apparently. Tina was a tall asian - more specifically, chinese - girl who had been looking to piss off her homophobic parents every chance she got. One of them was throwing parties, and the other was cutting off nearly all her hair and dying it pink. She started spewing things about aliens at the dinner table until it actually became a topic of interest for her, and she also loved the pink hair, so she kept it. Her parents had accepted her lifestyle as a lesbian but hadn't really accepted it. They were just too lazy to do anything about it besides make hurtful comments. It frustrated Tina to no end. Chrissy had gotten to know Tina over the last few weeks while Eddie had been working, and she had hung out with Heather. She had a feeling that Tina would be a welcome addition to their group. After a while, when the band finally finished setting up, the lights flickered on in the back, revealing. . .Dougie and Ronnie!

"Holy shit, Ronnie! Dougie?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Happy birthday, asshole! You didn't think I would miss this, did you?" Ronnie spoke into the microphone. "We have a special guest singing for us tonight. . .Chrissy Henderson. . .come on up!"

Eddie gasped louder than everyone as Chrissy stood and curtsied before hopping up onto the stage. She stood in front of the microphone and looked in Eddie's direction. He placed his hand over his chest, grinning delightfully. His dimples were showing, and his eyes were twinkling more madly than ever before.

"Happy birthday, baby, this is for you. . .my starman," Chrissy said softly.

Eddie pretended to faint and collapsed in Steve's arms. Steve rolled his eyes but held him up as Eddie clutched him tightly, practically sitting in his lap. Eddie gazed at her, his eyes full of love, and she wondered if this was how she looked when Eddie first played. She noted that Jonathan was snapping a picture of the moment, just as he had done that night. The rest of Corroded Coffin started to play, and when it was her time, Chrissy opened her mouth and began to sing.

" . . . Starman waiting in the sky. He'd like to come and meet us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds. There's a starman waiting in the sky. He's told us not to blow it 'cause he knows it's all worthwhile. . ."

As soon as she stopped, Eddie swooped her off the stage and picked her up, whirling her around. Still holding her, Eddie pulled back and smashed his lips to hers. Stars practically exploded in front of her eyes as they kissed, lights overhead, and the music still playing through both of them. . .practically pounding in their veins and in their hearts. Chrissy growled into the kiss, cupping the back of his head and yanking on his curls before wrapping her arms around him. Eddie enveloped his arms around her and pulled her as close as much as he could. God, she wanted to live inside of him. . .touch every part of him. Eddie was crying, tears running down his cheeks as well as her own, and she could taste him now. The lights grew brighter and brighter overhead. . .flickering now. The danced furiously overhead as Chrissy and Eddie kissed, growing and swelling. . .until finally. . .a light bulb exploded overhead. For a moment, it was like she could hear him in her head. Chrissy pulled back, looking at him in amazement. She had never felt that kind of connection with him before, and she wondered what it would be like if they. . .

"What the fuck was that?" Tina asked, staring at the bulb.

"The electricity is goddamn screwy in this place," Bev said. "Maybe we should stick to the stereo for now."

"That's a good idea," Nancy said.

While Tina and the others were distracted, Eddie wiped away the blood from under Chrissy's nose.

"Holy shit," Eddie said.

"I never felt like that before," Chrissy whispered.

"It's like I felt you in my head," Eddie whispered back.

"I wonder what it would be like if. . ." Chrissy trailed off.

"If what?" He asked softy.

". . .if we made love," she finished.

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" He asked.

"Eddie. . ." She said warningly.

"I trust you," Eddie said.

"Yeah, I know. . .it's just. . . I don't want to hurt you," Chrissy said.

"If anything hurts in a very bad way, I'll let you know," Eddie said.

"Alright, but later, we still have your party to attend," Chrissy grinned.

"Ugh, right, that," Eddie groaned.

Once, Corroded Coffin put away their instruments and cranked up the stereo. They joined the rest of them on the dance floor. Robin was happy to dance in Ronnie's arms while Heather did the same with Tina. They jumped apart when they realized that Bev was still there. She scoffed at them and waved her hand.

"Let me tell you something that my own dumbass husband never knew. Men have never been my thing," Bev coughed. "I only married my no good husband so my mama would stop her crying. She just didn't want me to be alone like she was when Daddy died. One thing I regret, though, is never telling her because I think she could have handled it. The point is, I don't give a shit, as long as you're all cleaning this up."

"But you look flattered and blushed when my dad tried to flirt with you," Eddie said.

"Kid. . .I've been around long enough that I know how to blow smoke up a man's ass," Bev said.

Ronnie laughed and pulled Robin back into her arms while Heather did the same with Tina. Eddie shook his head, smiling in amazement, and started dancing wildly with Chrissy. She couldn't help smiling herself. There really was more to Bev than meets the eye. Chrissy and Eddie ended up switching dancing partners halfway through. Eddie danced wildly with Steve while Chrissy danced with Nancy. They switched again after a couple of songs, and then it wasn't long before Eddie was dancing with Ronnie. Chrissy was now dancing with Robin, Nancy with Jonathan, and Argyle with Steve. Jeff and Gareth were dancing together. It looked like Gareth was enjoying it a little too much. It seemed as though he had a crush on the other boy. Frankie was dancing with Heather, while Tina watched him like a hawk in Dougie's arms. All in all, everyone was having fun.

"Oh, God, please tell me Wheeler didn't make that," Eddie gasped as he collapsed at the bar.

Steve and Nancy had stopped dancing early on to head into the back. They had come out a few moments later, carrying a chocolate cake.

"No, she did not," Nancy said. "And the cupcakes I made weren't that bad."

"Well, I wouldn't have called them cupcakes. They were more soup than anything else," Robin said.

"It's okay, you are so good at so many other things," Steve said. "And don't worry, Eddie, I made the cake."

"Thank God," Eddie said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Chrissy watched as everyone sang happy birthday to Eddie like a heavy metal song. He banged his head, laughing joyfully as he did so. He blew out the candles and pretended he was a dragon while he did it. Eddie and Chrissy were, of course, awarded the first two slices of cake. Ronnie sat down next to Eddie and stole a bite of his cake.

"Enjoying your birthday?" Ronnie asked.

"It's the best birthday I ever had. . .well, besides the one for my 9th birthday party and the clown my uncle had hired got arrested," Eddie grinned.

"Oh, shit! Yeah, I remember that," Ronnie laughed. "Okay, that was pretty great. The look on your uncle's face."

"I shouldn't laugh. He tried so hard," Eddie snickered.

"A clown got arrested at a 9 year old's birthday party?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"It's, uh, complicated," Eddie said with a laugh.

Chrissy smiled. It was clearly a fond memory that Ronnie and Eddie shared. She decided to leave it alone.

"You said no gifts, right? Only memories?" Ronnie asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"Well, I think this counts as a memory," Ronnie said. "Granny found it a while back."

She pulled out a framed photo. It was Ronnie and Eddie when they were eight years old. It must have been shortly after they became friends. Ronnie was in her overalls, and she hadn't found the corduroy ball cap she now wore on her head. Eddie was in torn pants and a flannel shirt that was too big for him. His hair was long, almost like it was now. It was before his dad decided to shave it off. She remembered Eddie telling her that he had cried when he had done that. She preferred to wear his hair much like his mom used to wear hers. It made him look less like his dad. Little Ronnie and Eddie were sitting with their backs against a tree. Ronnie was showing him the Hobbit for the first time. Chrissy knew who took the picture. It had been Wayne. He had always loved Ronnie for being Eddie's first real friend and held a special place in his heart for her. Eddie pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. Chrissy looked on, a fond smile on her face.

"We shoo turn his face inoo a game car!" Tina exclaimed, her mouth full of cake.

"Babe, how many times have I asked you not to do that?" Heather asked. "Digusting. Also, no one knows what the hell you just said."

Tina rolled her eyes at her girlfriend and swallowed.

"We should turn this place into a gay bar," Tina said. "Give people a safe place. On the outside, it will still look. . .well, how it does. . .but on the inside, we turn this place around."

"Seeing as this is my bar, shouldn't I be the one deciding on what to do with it?" Bev asked.

"Uh, right, of course," Tina said with wide eyes.

"My piece of crap husband didn't know what to do with it, and so, he left it to me," Bev said. "Hell, I still don't know what to do with it. . .but if some good can be done with it, then I'm in, kid, as long as you have the money for it."

"Oh, I know some investors who will gladly partake," she grinned manically.

"This is the best birthday ever!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Well, we couldn't have gotten here without you, Munson," Tina said. "You and Chrissy. If Chrissy hadn't become friends with you, fell for you, then Heather wouldn't have brought me here tonight."

Chrissy smiled at the thought. Really, it had all started that night at the talent show when they met, and she wound up down the road to her new life. . .to her new family. It's funny where the road takes you, sometimes. She looked at Eddie and knew he was thinking the same thing. She welcomed his kiss and pressed hard against his lips. They pulled away, and Eddie leaned his forehead against hers.

"Let's get out of here," Chrissy whispered.

Eddie grinned and gently pulled her up, wrapping an arm around her before turning to the group.

"Alright, well, my lady love and I must depart. You'll be fine without us, right?" Eddie asked.

Nancy looked at them for a moment and raised a curious eyebrow.

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

"Well, if you must know Nosy Nancy, Chrissy owes me some birthday spankings," Eddie said.

After he said that, Chrissy giggled and slapped his ass. Eddie yelped excitedly.

"That's one," she teased.

They quickly said their goodbyes, and they were almost out the door when Nancy approached them by herself.

"Okay, didn't we recently talk about this? Nance, if you want to join us, then you have to bring your boyfriend," Chrissy said.

"What? No! I mean, I know that. That's not what this is about," Nancy said, blushing. "Are you going to use you know what during sex?"

"Protection?" Eddie asked. "Of course, we are. Who do we look like to you? Ted and Karen? This isn't our first rodeo."

"Okay, they had one pregnancy scare. . ." Nancy trailed off and shook her head. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Nance, they're mine to use, and if I want to use them, then I should get to," Chrissy said.

"I just think you're being reckless with them. You might do something that you might not be able to take back," Nancy said. "Would you really be okay with that?"

"Nancy, do you trust me?" Chrissy asked.

"Of course, I do," Nancy replied.

"I know what I'm doing here. I've been practicing with El, and I've been getting stronger and more in control," Chrissy said.

Nancy sighed. She should know by now that it was pointless to argue with her, right?

"Alright, fine! But don't say that I didn't warn you," Nancy said and stormed off back to Steve.

Eddie and Chrissy walked out, hand in hand, both rather giddy with anticipation. Eddie drove them out to a clearing in the woods where he laid out a blanket for them in the grass. It was there that they freed themselves of their clothes. It felt different than the other times they had done this, and suddenly, Chrissy was nervous.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Eddie said. "I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to."

"I want to do it," Chrissy said. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Freak."

"Witch."

Chrissy pushed him down and climbed on top of him. She never felt so freeing than she did right then. . . naked under the stars with the gentle breeze caressing their skin in a very sensual way. The stars twinkled above them, and the moon shone with them. . .almost as if they were watching them. It only encouraged Chrissy further. She joined with him, feeling every part of him and reaching out with her mind, with her powers, to touch his. She did it, for once not caring about the consequences. . .She heard him in her mind. . .as clear as a bell. . .Eddie spoke to her without moving his lips.

"Chrissy!"

Chapter Twenty-Five

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