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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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come pick me up.

part one to do you think i have forgotten (about you)

summary: it had always been you and eddie. but one night and a whole lotta unexplored feelings leave you both reeling and you’re not sure if it ever really was you and eddie.

a/n: ermm this is so so long i’m so sorry already LOL i’ve had it in the drafts for so long but i reread it n rlly liked it so i wanna post hehe! side note: there are ZERO pictures of eddie not in that fuckin hellfire shirt D: i can’t have a grown man wearing that now …

loosely based off of the cook/freddie/effy storyline from skins uk if you’ve seen it you’ll know.,,, they’re like in their early twenties n it’s set sometime in the 90s ish tho it’s not rlly mentioned

no use of y/n! smut, 18+. this is more so stevexreader than eddie but they do have a relationship of sorts n it’s a lil’ complicated.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the sound of a high pitched alarm screaming jolts you awake. still partially in last nights clothes, the grubby feel of makeup on your face. leg slung over eddie’s torso.

you groan, shoving his arm as he’s still very much asleep, ‘shut up,’ grimacing as the noise continues.

he mumbles something, wildly slapping his arm about to turn off the damn thing.

you run a hand over your face, remnants of your black eyeliner on your hand. that horrid taste in your mouth only found after a night of drinking. which seemed to be just about every night at the moment.

‘why’d you set an alarm, you freak?’ rolling over onto your stomach, perched on your elbows, watching as his eyes slowly open, obviously feeling as shit as you did.

‘i have- had class, you freak,’ he grumbles, looking up at you from the pillow, curly hair fanned out around him.

you scoff, ‘like you were gonna go,’ attempting to rub the rest of your mascara off, sure you looked similar to a wild raccoon.

he hums in response, shuffling under the covers to tangle his leg with your yours, ‘you gonna sort this out for me?’ referring to the obvious morning glory tenting the blanket.

‘you gonna ask nicely?’ you respond, snarling at his crudeness.

whatever he was about to say was interrupted with a knock at the door, ‘we’re coming in, you have five seconds to not be naked,’ robin’s voice echoes.

you look up as robin walks into the room, hand over her eyes until steve gives her a small nudge, indicating the coast is clear, ‘oh good-,’ she sniffs, ‘it smells like weed and sex in here, you’re fucking disgusting.’

‘thanks for reminding me,’ eddie leans over, retrieving the half-smoked spliff from last night and lighting the end.

steve’s eyes are firmly on yours, kinda sad and defeated. he had that same look on his face whenever you and eddie were together, which was often.

you’d sort of always had this.. thing with steve. encapsulated by his presence. there was always something unspoken between you and you were never sure if it was because he hated you or not. small glances and touches that seemed to linger just a bit too long.

you’d sorta taken his best friend from him at one point, coming between their friendship suddenly and with no warning.

steve was intrigued by you too. this mystical, unobtainable persona you presented to the world. something he couldn’t crack. just couldn’t quite understand it.

‘we’re getting breakfast, i was going to ask if you wanted to join but i assume that won’t be happening,’ she raises her eyebrows, noticing your severely hungover state.

they liked to party too, just clearly not as much as you and eddie. both of you had no understanding of when to call it a night, egging each other on til the point of no return.

‘i think we’ll give that a miss,’ eddie’s answers for the both of you. steve’s eyes immediately look down, suddenly interesting in the burn marks in eddie’s carpet.

you’d actually met steve first, on the first day of classes in freshmen year. you went over to a sheepish steve, who looked slightly scared, and obviously lost. offering him the directions to his room.

he’d smiled back, introducing himself to you on the way. appreciative of your kindness. you probably wouldn’t have helped if he didn’t look like that, but still, it was nice.

that’s when eddie had bounded over, all hair and denim. loudly taking over your conversation, introducing himself with a smirk, hand already creeping onto your lower back. that’s when steve had nodded towards him and informed you of their already established friendship.

you weren’t really sure when it became you and eddie. well, it wasn’t. not officially. god, you didn’t want official. he was fun to fuck and even better to party with. maybe the fact he dealt had been a factor in solidifying your strange relationship. maybe not.

robin rolls her eyes, ‘right, well you boring fucks can rot in bed all day, suit yourselves,’ ushering steve out of the door, slamming it behind her.

you blink, hating this awful, guilty feeling steve always left in your stomach. you’d tear a guy like him to shreds, maybe it was for the best.

whatever self-wallowing, steve-centric thoughts you had are interrupted when eddie’s arm snakes around your back, pulling you onto him.

‘i still need a little assistance here,’ he grins from beneath you, running his hand down your back, firmly grasping your exposed ass as you clamber on top properly.

you try your damn hardest to push the reflecting image of steve from your mind. though it doesn’t quite work until eddie’s calloused palm softly taps against your cheek, ‘anyone in there?’

you frown, returning the playful slap as you grind mindlessly against him, his fingers digging into the pliant skin of your ass.

‘you can do that again.’

eddie hadn’t shut up about his birthday for weeks. you’d all planned to go to the same bar you went to most weekends, except this time everyone had to go and he got to be centre of attention.

he’d been pissing you off all night. obviously far too drunk, jaw clenching from the copious amounts of shit he’d sniffed. hanging from your shoulder, speaking over you and splashing beer down your top as he slurred through his words.

‘i think we’re gonna head home,’ steve speaks up when you exit the bar, eddie already looking for the next place.

‘whaat? you’re fucking boring,’ he pokes a finger into steve’s chest, far too intoxicated, ‘you’re staying out, right?’ he looks over to jonathan, argyle and nancy who also shared an apartment not far from yours.

‘nah man.. it’s late, it’s been fun though,’ jonathan shrugs as nancy finds a taxi to take them home.

‘fuuuck you guys are really ditching me on my birthday? at least you won’t let me down,’ his arm hooks around your shoulder, yanking you into him.

you pull back, which wasn’t particularly hard in his state, ‘get off of me.. can i get a ride with you?’ looking over at steve, his hands cautiously poking out of his pockets.

he nods sheepishly as eddie practically erupts, ‘it’s my fucking birthday, and you fucking losers are going home?’ he’s screeching, throwing his arms around, making a royal scene in the middle of the street.

robin finds a cab willing to take the group of you home, calling you over to the yellow vehicle, ‘eddie let’s just go home, it’s late,’ attempting to coax him into going with you. you’d deal with his shit in the privacy of his bedroom.

he laughs, turning away from you and walking up the dimly lit street, ‘you.. you can get fucked,’ he slurs, disappearing into a nearby bar.

steve stands at the cab door, watching as you frown at eddie’s back. internally deciding whether to give in and follow him or to leave like you’d originally planned.

you let out an exasperated sigh, ‘he can go fuck himself,’ you spit as you slide into the back of the cab. steve follows, shutting the door behind him, flashing you a small cautious look as the cab pulls off.

you collapse onto the sofa the second you set foot in the apartment. completely at your wits end with eddie and his the way he spoke to you.

‘i’m going to bed,’ robin announces, slinking into her own room, leaving steve to awkwardly linger in the living room.

you didn’t want to worry about eddie. he was a grown man who could definitely handle his own. besides, why should you when he’d explicitly told you to fuck off?

steve clears his throat before taking the empty seat beside you, ‘he didn’t mean it.. it’s just drunk talking,’ he nods, attempting to reassure you.

it wasn’t as if you were really upset about it all. more so annoyed that you’d let him treat you that way. continually. over and over again.

whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you had started to wear thin. there were only so many times you could put up with his shit before it got tired.

eddie could be a horrible drunk. it wasn’t often but when that version of him came out you’d prefer to be far far from it. he was cruel with his words, venomous as they rolled off his tongue. then you’d get into a screaming match and then either end up hate-fucking or you’d just both never bring it up again.

‘no, he did,’ you sigh, kicking the shoes from your feet with a thud, ‘i don’t care.. really.’

‘right,’ he nods, not totally believing you, ‘y’wanna smoke?’

a small smile creeps onto your face as he reaches for the small black box eddie kept on the table, pulling out a small baggie of weed, something eddie definitely wouldn’t miss. he didn’t even need your reply, beginning to roll up.

perhaps you’d smoked a little too much, sputtering on the final toke of your second or third spliff before handing it back to steve. he sits on the other side, an awful lot closer than he’d been originally.

it was quiet, but comfortable. not awkward at all.

‘y’know..’ he speaks up, looking over at you, ‘actually.. nah,’ changing his mind almost immediately.

‘no.. what? what were you gonna say?’ you furrow your brows, vision hazy, the room full of grey smoke.

he sort of chuckles to himself, stubbing the end of the joint out in the glass ashtray before looking at you again, ‘it’s stupid,’ he warns.

‘even better.. tell me,’ you nod, encouraging him to go on.

he pauses for a moment, a tiny smile on his pink lips, ‘i always thought.. well, that you and me were gonna end up together, i thought you liked me for the longest time,’ shaking his head as he looks down.

your heart thuds. a mixture of your high and the unidentifiable emotion coursing through your veins. there was no questions to being with eddie. it was simple, sex and parties. no complicated feelings involved.

but within a second, steve had completely changed everything. a feeling you’d suppressed since your situationship with eddie had started. completely convinced that the odd relationship you had with steve was just because you were banging his best friend.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t know you felt like that..’ you manage to get out quietly, watching as he slowly stands up, he doesn’t look at you once. too ashamed, embarrassed that he’d just admitted everything to you so easily.

‘well, now you know,’ he says quietly before disappearing into his room.

you linger on the couch for a moment. unsure of what to think of anything he’d just said. whether you should knock on his door and tell him you’d felt the same or just go off to your own room and wait for eddie to crawl in.

it wasn’t as if you felt nothing at all for eddie. you did, of course. but you didn’t love him. not the way you maybe should’ve. not the way you felt about steve, his gentle nature and soft caramel tinted eyes.

you stand from the couch, feet taking control as you walk to his door. a small slither of orange light peaking from underneath. raising your fist to knock but stopping, arguing with yourself. this couldn’t be a good idea.

before you can even convince yourself to knock, the door opens. steve stands on the other side, his own chest heaving as your eyes meet.

‘i-,’ he croaks, but you cut him off with your lips, pulling back just as quickly as you’d moved forwards.

you stare at him for a few moments, swallowing all the courage you’d just worked up.

‘..now you know,’ giving him a meek smile before walking back to your room. you lean back against the door, heart beating a million miles an hour.

a repetitive banging sound forces you awake in the morning. hissing as the sounds of an extremely dramatic moan get louder. high-pitched and obviously put on.

it takes a moment for you to realise just where the noise is coming from. eddie’s room backs onto yours. the headboard colliding with the wall at an alarming pace.

you stumble out of bed, throwing on an old dirty sweater and groggily making your way into the living room.

steve sits slumped over the table, looking particularly miserable this morning. despite what had happened last night. you wondered if he’d told robin who sat scowling at the door. steam practically coming out of her ears.

her eyes widen as you appear in the doorway, rubbing the residual sleep from your eyes, eyes flitting between your frame and the wooden door.

‘well shit, i was about to cuss you out,’ she remarks, astonished that you were stood in front of her.

steve’s whole face brightens when he realises you’re stood in front of him and not in the room making those god-awful, oscar worthy noises.

‘if that’s not you.. who the fuck is in there?’ robin gasps, now utterly bemused by the entire situation.

you shrug, choosing the seat opposite steve, making brief eye contact and flashing him a small smile. would he bring up last night? or was it never to be spoken about again?

relief is written all over his face. obviously under the impression that you’d made up with eddie at some point in the night. not once checking that you were in your room.

‘jesus christ i’m gonna kill him,’ robin fumes, sipping on a mug of coffee. her eyes are narrowed, attempting to set the room ablaze with her mind.

‘it won’t last long,’ you add, reaching over to steal a slice of steve’s buttered toast. he lets you, obviously. letting out a soft snort at your joke.

‘nothing is that good,’ robin shakes her head.

the noises quieten, a shrill giggle coming from the hallway as a scantily clad blonde appears in the doorway, closely followed by eddie, sporting a pair of boxers that hid absolutely nothing.

‘that way,’ he groans, guiding the smiling woman away towards the bathroom. his eyes momentarily meeting yours, total venom behind his glare.

robin jumps up, splashing coffee over the floor, ‘don’t you dare think about fucking in my bathroom,’ she warns, chasing after the odd couple.

you can hear an altercation as presumably eddie slams the bathroom door on robin, her fists pounding against the wood, hollering about her new bath mat.

steve glances at you, searching your face for any type of reaction. he doesn't find anything, instead you smile softly as robin re-enters the room, cursing at the bastard freak. she grabs her bag, slinging it onto her shoulder before stomping over to the door.

'i'm going out, let me know when he's done with his weird exhibitionist routine,' slamming the door as she exits, the poorly built walls shaking as she does.

there's a faint sound of running water, obviously coming from the bathroom, closely followed by a series of questionable grunts and groans. you choose to try and block it out, though engaging in conversation with steve at this very moment seemed almost too awkward.

'did you tell robin?' you pipe up, playing with your fingernails as you just about meet his gaze.

'uh.. yeah,' he grimaces slightly, 'i-i just thought.. well i thought that was you this morning, i was.. confused,' apologetic for his blunder.

you nod, 'i don't care.. i just wanna prepare for the inevitable grilling i'm gonna get,' chuckling in an attempt to ease the tension. it works as his lips curl into a small, playing with the discarded crusts on his plate.

the god-awful noises from the bathroom worsen and your eyes are pulled from steve, looking towards the cause. perhaps this was eddie's way of making you jealous. revenge for choosing to go home and not put up with his drunken assholery.

you’re sat tracing patterns into the velvet fabric of the sofa, practically shaking as you wait for steve to get back from campus.

he was your friend for fuck sake. why was this so nerve wracking? ask him to hang out, if he says no then so be it. you’ll deal with the awkwardness of your shared kiss alongside eddie’s misguided anger.

he’s later than you’d expected. becoming far too engrossed in the random soap opera on the tv when he does eventually get back. almost forgetting about what you’d got yourself so worked up over.

‘hey,’ waving his fingers as he comes in.

christ, he almost seemed more nervous than you were.

‘hey,’ not wanting to jump down his throat the second he walked in the door, turning the tv off and running your palms down the sofa.

‘spoken to eddie?’ he asks curiously, slinging his bag from his shoulder and slumping down next to you on the couch.

‘nah.. he went out this morning and hasn’t been back,’ you shrug, wishing that he wouldn’t have just bought that prick up.

he nods, looking down at his jeans, finding a loose thread to play with.

‘would yo-,’

‘d’ya wanna-,’

you both start at the same time, stopping to let him continue except he’d done the same thing. sitting in the silence for a brief moment.

you chuckle nervously, ‘sorry, what were you saying?’

‘i was just gonna ask if you wanted to.. maybe do something tonight? if- if you’re not busy,’ shrugging it off, trying his hardest to play it cool.

‘oh,’ laughing softly, the pair of you were like nervy teenagers, comical, ‘i was gonna ask you the same thing.. yeah i’d love to.’

steve grins, transported back to freshman year of high school, trying to find the gall to ask tammy thompson to the fucking movies. it all seemed so childish, innocent, the way you melted around each other.

‘okay.. i’ll get changed, give me five,’ he nods, leaping from the sofa and speeding off to his room.

you bite down onto your bottom lip, trying to contain your smile. kicking yourself for the adolescent excitement it gave you.

the bar was packed for a wednesday night, steve shouldering his way through the crowd with you following closely behind. not brave enough to cling onto his hand, wrapping your fingers around his forearm instead.

‘jesus christ,’ he exclaims when he finds a spot just about big enough for you both to stand. you were close. closer than you’d ever been. at least in public.

you hold onto the glass bottle he’d passed you from the bar, ‘d’ya wanna go somewhere else?’

‘what?’ he shouts, the music too loud to hear you properly.

you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear, the feeling makes your heart pound, ‘you wanna go somewhere else?’

placing his hand on your arm so he could shout back, the mixture of his cologne and beer filling your nose. it was intoxicating, making your head giddy.

‘i’m good if you are,’ wisps of his hair sweeping against your cheek.

you nod, beaming up at him as you take a swig of the harsh beer. the crowd seemingly disappearing from around you as his eyes focus on you, his own smile overcoming his face.

okay, perhaps you’d had a little too much to drink. but a little dutch confidence never hurt anyone.

you’re definitely not complaining when you grab his hand on the way out of the bar, quickly intertwining your fingers as he weaves his way to the door. still as packed as when you’d got there.

you giggle as he trips over the step coming into the bar, sending you flying into his back as he regains his balance.

his hand is quick to steady you, resting on your waist. the street light illuminating the gleam of his eyes, slightly glossy from the multiple beers he’d sunk inside.

a drunk student roars past you, snapping you out of the moment, steve’s hand still lingering on your waist. something that would’ve never happened if he were sober.

‘shall we go home?’ you ask, not breaking from his gaze.

he nods, moving his hand to offer it out for you to grab. leading you over to an empty cab, leaning through the front window to talk to the driver.

the drive home is heavy with tension. sitting in silence as steve makes polite conversation with the driver, fingers still wrapped around yours. heart thumping as you near your street.

the apartment dark and silent when you get in, the only light coming from the old fairy lights robin had hung around the room. there’s no hesitation, your hands grabbing his cheeks, smashing your lips to his the second the front door closes.

it takes a moment for him to realise what was happening, hands quickly finding solace on the small of your back when it clicks properly. it’s greedy and desperate, tongue sliding into his mouth, wanting to touch every inch of him.

hands sliding down his chest, grabbing at the fabric, his leg slotting between yours, guiding you backwards. straight into the coffee table with a bang.

you spring apart, eyeing eddie’s room cautiously, saying a silent prayer and hoping he didn’t come out.

steve’s eager to resume, eyes hungry as they flit between eddie’s door and your face.

you pull back completely, taking your lip between your teeth and hooking your finger around his pinky, leading the way to his bedroom. it was the furthest away from eddie’s and made the most sense.

he shuts the door gently, flicking the small bedside lamp on, illuminating the obvious tent in his jeans. your mouth falling open at the sight of it, rubbing your thighs together to try and satiate the growing throbbing.

you’re quick to resume the kiss, moving on him swiftly, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. he collapses backwards onto the bed, your body falling on top of his chest, hands caressing his cheeks.

the next moment you find yourself underneath steve, pressed into the mattress as he holds himself above you. eager hands finding the short hem of your skirt and sliding underneath on the soft skin of your thighs. you had never seen him move with such confidence before, normally a little shy in the way he carried himself.

his finger hooks into the waistband of your lacy panties, tugging them down to your thighs. his growing erection digging into your core with every movement. moaning into his mouth when his finger begins circling your sensitive clit. this had definitely killed any and all assumptions that he was a virgin.

it’s as if he had been waiting for this very moment for his entire life, sliding his fingers between your folds and into your already soaking hole, your mouth falling from his as your head rolls back onto the pillow.

‘oh my god,’ a breathy moan escaping from your lips as his fingers pump in and out, his other hand causing a dip in the pillow next to your head.

his fingers slip out of you and begin to unbuckle his belt, barely getting them down and around his legs before his cock springs up. bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, mouth hung open as your peer down between your bodies.

your shirt is pulled off over your head so quickly you weren’t sure if you had blinked, landing on the floor alongside his with a soft thunk.

you draw your eyes back up to meet his once more, ‘you’re sure?’ he reaffirms, pupils dilated, wetting his lips with his pink tongue.

‘so sure,’ nodding encouragingly underneath him, readjusting your legs to loosely wrap around his torso. you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

he returns the nod, positioning himself at your sopping entrance and without breaking eye contact he slides in with a sharp intake of breath. you can’t contain the whimper that collects in your throat, the stretch of his cock taking you by surprise. the sting felt good, like he was always supposed to be there between your legs.

he’s still, waiting for your encouragement to move. you give it in the form of a squeeze on the back of his neck, clinging on to the skin as his hips move slowly. low, hungry grunts roll from his lips, the bed frame creaking in time with his thrusts.

‘fuck,’ you breathe out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth acutely aware that eddie was only a few doors away and could definitely hear the happenings in the room. even if you could manage to stifle yourself, the undeniable sounds of skin against skin would expose you.

‘is that- is that good?’ steve mumbles, moving slow but hitting deep, nudging against your soft spot, already hurtling you towards your orgasm.

‘jesus christ.. yes, yes,’ beginning to buck your hips back against him, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. finger nails leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as tears prick in your eyes.

steve groans as his heavy balls slap against the back of your thighs, pushing himself fully inside, ‘i’m not.. hmph.. not gonna last long,’ arm beginning to buckle with the weight of him.

you clench around him as your high topples over at his words, burying your face into the pillow next to you. unable to withhold the high pitched wail from leaving your mouth, barely managing to muffle the sound.

his rhythm falters, hips slamming into yours for the last few desperate pumps before he pulls himself out. thick ropes of cum spurting out and onto his hand. and the bed. and your thigh. crying out as his chest heaves above you.

‘holy shit,’ his arm gives way and he ends up next to you on the mattress, panting for air as he reaches for a dirty shirt on the floor, using the first thing he could find to clean off his hand.

you turn your head to face him, a lazy smile on your face as he offers the shirt out to you, mouthing a small sorry.

he throws it to the other side of the room, running a hand over his damp face, ‘i uh.. i last way longer normally,’ bashful and doubting his performance. it was only because it was you.

‘steve,’ you smile, grabbing his blanket to pull over your body, ‘don’t do that,’ seeing the shy boy from once before, you much preferred the steve from earlier.. confident and sure of himself.

‘yeah.. sorry,’ his lips curling into a soft smile, turning his body towards yours, arm snaking out to pull you closer, clammy palm resting on the small of your back.

you giggle quietly in response, settling in to your new position, sharing the blanket with him.

your eyes don’t leave each other’s as he begins to babble about something from the bar, clinging onto your skin as if you were somehow going to slip away.

you hadn’t even realised that you’d fallen asleep in steve’s room.

so when eddie comes in unannounced in the early morning, you thank your lucky stars that you’re facing the wall with steve’s body hiding yours. shoving your face into the pillow to hide yourself, hair sprawled around you, helping your case.

‘yo.. bro,’ he whispers, stepping into the room and over a pile of clothes, ‘good night?’ he cocks his eyebrow at steve as he turns around, glaring at the interruption.

‘uh.. yeah yeah,’ steve panics, realising what eddie had walked into and the chaos that’d ensue if he figured it out, his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

‘sounded like it,’ eddie chuckles, shaking his boot to rid it of the discarded shirt on the floor, ‘look, have you got ten bucks? i can give it back tomorrow,’ he bargains, smiling at steve.

‘yeah.. yeah, my wallet’s on the desk,’ steve nods towards the desk, adjusting himself to make sure he was covering you when eddie stomps over to the desk.

ten dollars was a worthy sacrifice to not have to deal with eddie’s temper tantrum in the morning. it wasn’t like he’d never find out. just not now.

‘thanks bro.. i’ll get it back to you tomorrow, hey,’ eddie rubs his stubbly face, ‘d’you know if dickhead’s in? i knocked but, uh.. no answer,’ quite obviously referring to you.

you have to resist the urge to sit up and cuss him out.

‘uhh.. no, no idea sorry,’ steve shakes his head apologetically, lying through his teeth.

‘alright well, have fun,’ wiggling his eyebrows as he exits, closing the door softly.

you exhale when the door clicks shut, though you stay in the same position, not entirely convinced he’s not stood outside the door listening.

‘don’t speak,’ you mouth to steve, who looks wearily at you until the front door closes and you fully turn to face him.

‘jesus christ,’ you breathe, ‘he doesn’t knock?’

‘usually he does.. i bet he wanted to see who was in here,’ his arm twitches, unsure of whether to keep clinging on to your waist or to remove it.

‘i mean,’ you shrug, ‘he’ll found out eventually, right?’ it was inevitable, especially as you were living together.

‘i s’pose.. you don’t care?’ taken aback by your nonchalance towards the situation.

‘not really.. i just don’t think he needs to know, not yet,’ you croak, he had literally just banged another chick practically right in front of you. any guilt you may have felt about the situation had disappeared.

‘yeah,’ he gives you a tired smile, nuzzling his head into the pillow, all soft and sweet.

‘i dunno about you but i’m going back to sleep, until at least lunch,’ your hand running along the curve of his bicep, mere inches away from each other.

he hums in response, his lingering arm pulling your waist closer, eyes drooping as sleep takes over.

you’re awoken again by the slam of the front door, robin leaving for work. letting steve know that everyone in the apartment could hear your late night activities.

steve grumbles, complaining about her heavy-handedness. you leer over at the alarm clock, wanting to get out of steve’s room before eddie gets back from work, making sure there were no possible chances of awkward questions this afternoon.

‘shit,’ you hiss, climbing over his still half-asleep body and grabbing whatever t-shirt you could find, pulling it on over your head, ‘eddie’s back in like five.. i’m gonna get out of here now, saves the aggro..,’ slipping into your discarded underwear.

‘right.. good idea,’ he mumbles, one arm folded underneath his pillow as he comes to fully.

you sprint out of there and into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal when eddie strolls through the door, whistling some tune to himself. he glances at you before taking a seat at the cluttered dining table.

you don’t say a word, discarding your plan to sit at the table and instead tucking in to your cereal on the counter, pretending to read some flyer.

‘where were you last night?’ he asks, leaning back on the chair to get a full view of you, ‘i knocked on your door but..’ narrowing his eyes.

‘i was probably fuckin’ asleep,’ shoving another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, making brief eye contact with the man.

he squints, trying to figure out why that shirt was so fucking familiar. was it his? were you wearing his shirt in some weird goading way?

steve emerges from his room, shirtless and running a hand from his messy hair. eddie’s eyes flit between the shirt and steve. cogs slowly turning in his brain.

no. no the shirt wasn’t his.

it was the fucking shirt he’d kicked off of his foot when he’d stormed into steve’s room this morning. same boring design printed on the front.

on you.

from steve’s floor.

the night after steve had, very loudly, had a female friend over.

you’re oblivious, focussing on your bowl of soggy cornflakes as steve clatters around behind you. making his own bowl. neither of you looking at each other, making everything ten times more obvious.

‘you’re fuckin’ joking,’ he loudly proclaims, standing from the table, nearly sending the chair flying backwards.

your head shoots up, confused by what he had seemingly angered himself over now, ‘what?’ eyebrows knitted together as he storms over, mouth hung open in disbelief.

‘you fucked him?’ jabbing his finger at steve, ‘my best friend?’ arms flying around in anger.

you look to steve for some help, eddie positively fuming, his jaw clenched at your lack of an answer. in fact, your reaction, or lack thereof, had only solidified everything.

‘no,’ you eventually croak, ‘i- we-, that wasn’t me,’ stuttering for some excuse, though you know he didn’t buy a word of it.

eddie’s face twists up in a mix of anger and hurt, eyes glossing over as his lips tremble, ‘eddie-,’ steve begins, cut off as eddie storms out of the tiny kitchen, grabbing his wallet from the table and pausing when he opens the front door.

‘you deserve each other,’ he snarls before disappearing, shaking the walls with his violent slam of the door.

you stare at steve in silent disbelief, dropping the spoon into your discarded bowl. you’d predicted his reaction to go something along the lines of that, just not expecting it so soon. hoping to have prepared a solid speech in the meantime.

‘shit.’

‘it’s okay.. h-he was gonna find out eventually.. he’ll calm down,’ steve tries to soothe you, well aware that eddie held onto his anger, let it simmered until it all bubbled over and some poor soul got the brunt of months of rage.

you want to feel bad, feel guilty but when steve’s hand sits on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, it vanishes. his chestnut eyes providing a sense of comfort you’d never felt before.

you were used to eddie being out. missing in action for days on end. but by the fourth day of him not coming back to the apartment, the pit in your stomach starts to worsen.

the guilt had caught up to you, as if you were the one who had shoved him out of the door. you had, in a metaphorical sense.

the first few days were, nice. though you felt worse for even feeling that. but, you’d been hanging out with steve more. it was different to before, getting to know his personal quirks, the things that made him tick. something you would’ve brushed off before.

you were friends, sure. you hadn’t really had the opportunity to get to know him like this before. it would’ve felt like some sort of betrayal to eddie. even though in some ways the way it had come about now was much worse.

on the fifth day, you’re sat on the couch with steve. picking the hangnail from your finger, wincing as it started to bleed.

‘d’you think he might’ve gone home?’ you ask, looking up at steve who was spaced out next to you.

they were from the same small town, had started out sharing classes in high school and had since been friends. admittedly growing apart when you’d come into the picture. you’d heard stories from the others about how close they used to be, never apart, according to jonathan.

‘i dunno.. he hates hawkins,’ steve shrugs, seeing the worry spread across your face, ‘but i could call his uncle? see if he’s there?’

you nod, thumb in your mouth trying to pull off more of the sore skin. he gets up to grab his phone, already dialling the number when he comes back into the room.

‘hey! wayne.. it’s steve- yeah yeah, i’m good man.. i was just wondering if eddie was there? oh no, uh- well.. we haven’t heard from him in a few days, y’know what he’s like… sure, thanks man,’ clicking the button and ending the call.

he looks over at you, a pitying look on his face as he shakes his head no.

‘i’m sure he’s alright.. he’s dramatic, you know that,’ he collapses onto the couch, this time closer than before, nudging your elbow with a weak smile.

you were well versed with eddie’s dramatic personality. having dealt with his temper tantrums and storm outs for years now. though, it had never seemed this bad before.

realistically, you knew he was probably crashing on a friend’s sofa. overstaying his welcome and partying too much. he was likely coming down from some insane party as you sat thinking about him.

‘i just.. feel bad,’ you whisper, leaning into steve’s side. his arm reaches around to your shoulder, rubbing softly against your arm.

‘i know..i do too,’ he admits, you and eddie hadn’t been a romantic thing. not even really a thing, if you were being honest. it was sex and partying, getting completely trashed and using each other in an attempt to fill the void inside of you both.

but steve and eddie had been friends for years now. they’d argued over the stupidest shit but never something like a girl. steve had had to genuinely weigh up whether his friendship with eddie was worth losing.

if eddie couldn’t get over it, would steve be able to repress his feelings for you? or would he be fine with losing eddie if it meant that you were together?

when robin gets back from work, she narrows her eyes at the two of you curled up against each other, ‘is this gonna be a regular thing?’

‘would you have a problem with it if it was?’ you ask, watching as she dumps her back and slumps on the empty seat.

‘oh no, i’m just thinking about how much peace and quiet i’ll get if you and eddie aren’t screaming at each other every day,’ kicking her doc martens from her feet and leaning into the cushions.

‘if he comes back,’ you remind her.

she hadn’t really seemed too fazed when he’d stormed out. thankful for no more early morning wake up calls from his wooden bed frame. but you can tell that even she was beginning to feel at least a tiny bit worried.

‘he still not called?’

you shake your head, ‘no one’s seen him, he’s not home.. i guess we’ve just gotta wait til he’s calmed down,’ shrugging, more so trying to convince yourself rather than her.

no matter what, eddie had a special place in your heart. even if it wasn’t love in the romantic sense, there was too much there to disregard that. he was your best friend at one point, how could you?

it’s another five days of fretting and concern before you hear a word from him. your phone rings in the middle of the night and you sit up, feeling along the nightstand for the buzzing plastic. an unrecognised number.

‘hello?’ you speak into the receiver.

steve stirs, waking up at the sound of your voice. admittedly, you’d been sleeping in his bed. sharing kisses and late-night chats about just about everything. it all felt very quick, but just right. like now that’d you’d both realised that you could have this, that anything other than this felt wrong.

‘hi,’ eddie’s voice rings out, recognisable even through the phone.

‘eddie? you’re okay? where are you?’ you babble, steve sits up at the mention of his name.

‘i’m uh- with my dad, i just, listen.. i need you to bring me some shit.. we’re going away and i’ve got nothing with me,’ his voice crackles and you can hear him shift around in the payphone box.

‘what? you’re going where? where are you?’ baffled, unsure if you were still asleep and not understanding him.

‘away, i’m staying in porter.. look, can you do it?’

‘eddie that’s-,’ but you stop yourself, ‘yeah, sure.. when?’

‘tomorrow, i just need some clothes, my watch and my savings.. they’re under my mattress.. tiny box, you’ll see it,’ he rushes, running out of minutes.

‘o-okay, where shall i meet you? i don’t know it well,’ you garble, nodding at steve when he mouths a confused porters?

‘little bar called sam’s.. i’ll be in there, i’ve gotta go, this thing’s running out,’ he sighs, muttering a small, ‘thank you,’ before the line goes dead.

‘he’s at the fucking beach.. wants me to drop some shit for him.. he said he’s with his dad? i-i thought his dad left..?’

‘he did,’ steve looks puzzled, taking the phone from your clutch and looking at the withheld number, trying to figure out if he could call it back, ‘he left years ago..’

eddie’s smile falters when he notices that you’d bought steve and robin along. steve dropping your hand the second his eyes meet eddie’s.

‘what the fuck are you doing here?’ the chair scraping the wooden floor as he stands abruptly.

the man you can only assume is his dad looks over, gripping onto the beer bottle, eyes flitting between his son and your trio.

‘eddie.. i asked them to, we wanted to know if you were okay,’ your voice shakes, frowning when he scowls at you. you’ve pissed him off, again.

‘i called you because i trusted you, not him,’ he spits, walking over to where you were stood by the door, ‘where’s my shit?’

‘it’s in the car,’ quickly coming up with a lie, trying to keep him talking for as long as possible, ‘i need to talk to you.. before you.. leave,’ you pout, trying to get him away from his dad.

‘about?’ he hits back harshly, still upset that you’d even dared to bring steve along.

‘about.. everything,’ you exhale shakily, ‘give me five minutes, please.’

he looks back at his dad who checks his watch before shrugging. he couldn’t give a less of a shit as long he got this promised money.

‘fine,’ he says through gritted teeth, storming past a gormless steve and robin and exiting the restaurant.

you glance at steve before following him out, not sure how much longer you could convince him you’d bought everything he’d asked for.

he’s already lighting up a cigarette when you reach the street, perched against the windowsill in days-old clothes. he looked a mess. even worse than his usual gritty self. eye-bags and a sunken face to match.

you breathe out, how do you even start a conversation like this? sorry i fucked your best friend but i actually really like him was probably not the best way to go about it.

‘i’m sorry,’ seemed like the best place to start, ‘it wasn’t fair to you.. what i- we did.. i can’t tell you how shit it makes me feel.. to know that i hurt you.’

he blows the smoke out of his mouth, expressionless, ‘okay.’

is that it? after his great big performance that was all he could say?

‘what?’

‘i said, okay.. what d’you expect me to do? start crying and begging you to love me?’ scoffing as he takes a long draw of the cigarette. his eyes cold, merciless as he glares at you.

‘you ran away.. made everyone worried sick about you.. and all you can say is okay?’

he shrugs, ‘i’m over it.. you’re welcome to each other,’ stubbing the cigarette out on the brick wall, stepping closer to you.

your mouth opens and shuts, flabbergasted by his stinking attitude, ‘shout at me, scream.. fuck- hit me if you want to.. stop pretending like you don’t care.. because i know you eddie munson and i know you do.’

his eyes narrow, intimidating as he towers above, ‘i don’t give a shit, you’re only upset because you want me to.. that’s too bad,’ his adam’s apple bobs, a tell-tale sign that he was lying.

your eyes search his for anything. a glimmer of weakness.

but his eyes are stern, emotionless as his brows thread together.

the door to the bar creaks open and his dad stomps out, muttering to himself, ‘c’mon son, let’s get the fuck out of here,’ replacing eddie’s spot on the windowless ledge and lighting his own cigarette.

he doesn’t break eye contact, ‘i’m gonna take a leak and then i want my shit,’ jaw tense as he barges through the door.

you squeeze your eyes shut, biting onto your bottom lip before cricking your neck. that hadn’t gone exactly to plan. now what the fuck were you gonna do when he realised you hadn’t brought the one thing he’d asked for.

‘i know what women like you do,’ his dad speaks up, taking a long drag on the cigarette, ‘you don’t get to fuck up his life and then happily move on.’

eyes springing open when you realise he’s talking to you, ‘what the fuck did you just say?’

he laughs, a deep belly-laugh, ‘you heard.’

you’d love to smash the smug look from his dirty face. knock his head into the brick wall and drag eddie kicking and screaming back to steve’s cat whether he liked it or not.

‘women like me? the only person who cares enough to drive all the way out to this shithole to save your son? is that what you meant?’ stepping up towards him, as if you were even capable of doing anything.

‘you came to rub it in.. flaunting in with pretty boy there,’ his lips snarl, ‘pathetic really, shouldn’t have bothered.’

eddie comes back out, robin and steve trailing behind, trying to converse with him but being completely blanked, ‘where’s my shit then?’

‘uh.. steve’s car,’ beckoning to where you’d parked somewhere in the distance.

steve flashes you a worried look knowing damn well there was nothing eddie could want in his car. luckily eddie doesn’t pick up on it and instead starts walking in the direction you’d motioned, expecting you all to follow.

‘why’re you in such a hurry?’ you call out from behind, trying desperately to bide time. he was certain to flip his shit the second you reached the car and he figured you’d lied to him.

‘because i want to get the fuck out of here,’ he snaps back, charging on ahead.

you walk in silence to steve’s car, nervously glancing over at steve as eddie and his disgusting pig of a father walk on ahead. steve reaches over and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze though it doesn’t really do much.

eddie’s spots the car first, striding over and peering into the windows, ‘where’s my shit then?’ turning to glare at you with a disgusted look on his face.

your mouth opens and closes, no viable excuse coming to mind, ‘eddie.. i didn’t bring anything-,’ swallowing as you gain some slight confidence, ‘i’m not letting you go with him.’

his dad completely flips, turning to his son, ‘you’re fucking useless, you know that? how the fuck d’you manage to mess this one up?’ practically foaming at the mouth.

‘dad i told her! this isn’t my fault.. we can still go.. i’ll find the cash somewhere,’ his eyes pleading with the estranged man, he had shrunk back into a scared little boy right before your eyes.

his father shoves him away, snarling at his son, ‘you think i actually want to go anywhere with you? my colossal fuck up of a son? you’re dreaming,’ positively fuming.

‘but.. dad,’ he’s almost begging now, regressing back to the night he watched his father walk out on his mom, feeling the heartache all over again.

steve steps up, getting closer to the pair, ‘you should go,’ placing his hand on the man’s arm.

he jerks his arm from steve’s grip, scoffing at you all, ‘don’t bother trying to find me again.. i don’t wanna know,’ poking his sausage finger into eddie’s chest before pulling himself away and trundling off back to the bar you’d met in.

your eyes immediately turn to eddie who was watching the man leave for the second time, tears pricking in his eyes. your chest pangs with hurt, you’d never meant for it to happen like this.

eddie speeds off in the opposite direction and you have to pull on steve’s arm to stop him from going after the boy, ‘he’ll come.. just.. give him a few minutes,’ nodding reassuringly.

steve sighs before turning to face you, ‘okay, you should go anyway.’

‘yeah.’

deciding that it had probably been enough time, you follow eddie’s path and eventually find him perched on a crumbling stoke wall, aggressively wiping his cheeks when he spots you walking over.

you sit in the empty spot next to him, staring down at the grey concrete. not wanting to break the silence and potentially piss him off more.

‘fuck,’ eddie finally breathes, sniffing and wiping his nose on his filthy sleeve. he clearly hadn’t showered in days and you wonder what on earth they could’ve possibly been doing.

‘i’m sorry,’ you croak. you weren’t just sorry for not allowing him to run off with that wretched man but for the fact that you and steve had quite obviously betrayed him.

you hear him swallow and then a rustling from his pocket. looking up to find him with a cigarette hanging onto his lip. he offers the box out to you, as he usually would.

delicately taking one from the pack and placing it in your mouth, waiting patiently for the lighter.

you sit smoking your cigarettes in the calming silence for a few minutes. gazing out at the horizon, the sky awash with all sorts of moody greys. fitting.

‘are you coming home?’ you ask quietly, standing from the wall with your hands shoved in your pockets.

eddie exhales, his eyes closing briefly before he stands, ‘yeah.. yeah let’s go,’ admitting defeat as he lets go of his dad forever, ready to put an end to his reckless escapade.

robin and steve are leaning against his car when you walk back. there had been a silent agreement to not mention it. just get in the car and go.

you sat in the back with eddie, watching as he stares out of the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. you move over into the middle seat, resting your head against his shoulder.

things would be alright.

things had been actually sorta alright. eddie had seemingly come to terms with you and steve becoming a thing. at least, if he hadn’t, he’d been keeping it to himself.

you tried to keep things respectable of course, jumping apart when he’d enter the room or going off to your own room and creeping into steve’s when eddie had gone to bed. but he wasn’t stupid. and you knew he wasn’t stupid. it just seemed better than rubbing it in his face.

things were completely different with steve and you’d felt a sense of pressure that hadn’t been present with eddie. steve was soft and kind but you couldn’t be so laidback about everything with him.

when you’d disappear at parties to split a bag with someone, he’d want to know. or when you were upset and stressed out, he’d want to know why, how he could help.

which was fair enough, obviously. it was just different. before, eddie would offer some generic advice and a spliff and be done with it. now, you were expected to actually address your issues head-on, not just bury them with sex and drink.

finals week had been harsh on all of you. the apartment in disarray as you were all working overtime to save your grade and not get kicked out of college.

you’d, perhaps a bit unfairly, taken your stress out on steve. arguing with him about menial shit that you didn’t really care about, just finding any excuse to shout and push him away.

he’d sit there and take it, offering sensible solutions and trying to resolve whatever bullshit you’d made up that day. a stark difference to eddie who would’ve screamed straight back at you.

come friday night, you’d all finished exams, sitting around the table when eddie swanned in, flapping some flyer for a party, going on about how you should all go.

‘we’re finished, free,’ he argued, pleading his case to the three of you.

robin flat-out refused, said she needed to sleep for a solid week and then she’d be ready to party. steve umm’d and ahh’d, settling on staying in but he was down to go out tomorrow.

‘i’ll go,’ you speak up, eyeing eddie from across the table, you hadn’t hung out alone yet. this would be a new feat.

‘alright,’ he shrugs, looking at steve for his permission or straight up denial of you two going alone.

steve just nods, ‘alright, call me if you need anything,’ glancing at you with an assured smile.

he wasn’t worried. not really. you’d shown him plenty of times that you loved him even despite your incessant attempts to push him away. even in the bad arguments, he’d kept his cool and waited for you to come to him, keeping everything on your terms.

you’re nervous though. you and eddie partying together had never been a good idea, egging each other on, getting utterly trashed just because he’d dare you to.

not tonight. you swore to yourself before leaving. pressing a tender kiss on steve’s lips, leaving traces of your sticky lipgloss behind.

eddie’s pov

it’s a little after midnight when steve gets a phone call from eddie, asking him to come and pick you up. still waking up as he walks across campus, passing countless drunk students as he finds the thumping party.

you’re incoherent on the couch, steve’s eyebrows raising expectedly as he walks into the room. eddie stood to the side watching as your arms instinctively wrap around steve’s neck. even in your drunken stupor you went straight to steve.

it fucking stings.

he looks on worriedly as steve hoists you from the couch, ‘hey man.. uh, she said some pretty weird things tonight, i dunno.. i don’t think she’s okay,’ recalling your earlier slurred words.

you hadn’t meant to, but you’d spilled everything to eddie. a tequila fuelled rant about how steve was so perfect and how bad you felt that you just weren’t. how you didn’t know how to stop pushing him away, even when you didn’t want to.

steve nods, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know you were on this self-destructive warpath. he just wasn’t sure how to tell you that you didn’t need to do this without sounding like a dick.

your arms lazily flop around his neck, laying your head against his chest as he carried you bridal style through the party and right across campus back to your apartment. eddie trailing behind in silence.

‘thanks.. for calling me,’ steve smiles as he nudges his bedroom door open just as eddie was about to disappear into his own room.

‘course,’ he nods, melancholy as he watches your fingers curl around steve’s jacket, pulling him down onto the bed with you, babbling a chorus of steve’s and love you’s as his door closes.

cursing himself for never being that soft with you. never providing that level of safety.

he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. at some point he hears you tumble out of steve’s room, rushing to the bathroom and subsequently throwing up into the toilet. debating whether to hop out of his own bed and help.

but then the padding of steve’s feet make their way through the hallway, his soft voice helping you brush your teeth and get cleaned up. eddie’s assistance was unnecessary. damn, he wouldn’t have a clue what to even do.

on the occasions that you’d thrown up in the morning, eddie would’ve led in bed and laughed. called you a pussy and waited for you to crawl back to bed in a mood. he wasn’t gentle like steve. that shit came as a second nature to him but to eddie? not a touch of it.

he even hears the soft kiss he gives you on the way back to his room, your appreciative little murmur and the click of his door shutting again.

and he wants to kick himself. scream and cry and throw a tantrum because in an ideal world, that would’ve been him.

but he can’t blame you, no matter how much he tried. it’s his fault he’s such a colossal fuck up. not yours. not steve’s. his.

he eventually gives up and moves to the couch, not getting much luck at sleeping in his bed. the suns rising when he hears snippets of your hushed conversation.

it didn’t sound angry. or even upset. just barely audible speaking’s about your feelings.

‘i know.. i don’t mean to,’ he can hear, a twinge of sadness in your tone.

‘you don’t need to.. not with me,’ steve mumbles and the blankets rustle, snapping him out of his trance.

he can hear small i love you’s and the sound of lips smacking. but then your muffled breathy moans start and the bile rises in his throat. undeniably he knew what was going on in there, everything being confirmed by the rhythmic creaking of the mattress.

and he knows what you look like. he can see it. feel it. hell, he lived for it at one point

pushes himself from the sofa and straight out of the door. not wanting to hear a second more.

you don’t feel as bad as expected in the morning, rough but not as bad as you should be feeling.

robin’s now ready to celebrate, steve agreeing and you almost want to hurl at the mention of going out. eddie sits in silence at the end of the table, he’d been pretty strange this morning and you’d wondered if you said something to upset him last night.

you could vaguely recall the self-pitying spiel you’d forced him to listen to. physically cringing at the fact you’d started crying and wailing about steve to him.

robin suggests having some people over, just a small thing with close friends. maybe if everyone was up for it you could all go out afterwards. that you could agree to.

she rounds the troops, calling the friend you all shared. who all agreed to get there at eight. something small and casual she repeats down the phone.

there’s a few tag-alongs, people you’d met briefly at parties or friends of friends who had been dragged along. so it wasn’t the small gathering you’d pictured with just the gang. but it was okay.

the speaker being turned to max and the living room full of people. everyone in high spirits because finals had finished and were relatively confident that they’d at least scraped a pass.

you edge through the crowd, waking over to steve who was splayed out on the couch, spliff hanging from his fingers. he grins when he sees you, opening his arms.

‘hey pretty girl,’ beckoning for you to climb onto his lap, arms snug around your waist as he passes the spliff to you, still giggling at his pet name.

eddie glowers from behind the couch, huffing before pushing himself up and storming into the kitchen. he hadn’t realised how much he’d already drank, liquor coursing through his veins.

‘watch it,’ someone exclaims when eddie barges into their arm, subsequently spilling his beer onto the boys shirt.

eddie sees red. turning to the boy and snarling as he shoves his chest, sending him to the floor.

‘what the fuck did you say?’ grabbing the boy by the collar before smashing his fist into the side of the poor boys face.

steve hears the commotion, leering over the sofa to see what the fuck was even going on. he shoves you off of his lap, running to go and grab eddie from on top of this boy.

you finally see what everyone had crowded around, watching as eddie’s fist pummels into his now bloody face. only easing when steve grabs onto his arms, gasping for breath as he’s thrown back into reality. realisation setting in about what he’d just down.

people rush to the unconscious boy, somebody screaming to call an ambulance. the music cuts out harshly, silence echoing around the room as you stare at eddie, wide-eyed. terrified.

you’d never seen him like this. so brutal, covered in someone else’s blood. his chest falls and rises, staring back at you with an equally as horrified expression. steve is saying something to him but it’s not registering. a ringing in his ears as the world crashed and burned around him.

the police turn up alongside the ambulance crew. taking statements from whoever hadn’t left and eventually cuffing eddie. muttering about crazy fucking kids and quite forcefully pulling him from the apartment.

his eyes lingering on yours as he’s guided out. steve’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. you’re still in disbelief, tears welling in your eyes as you remember how unforgiving and downright cruel he’d been.

‘you wanna go to bed?’ steve asks, chest vibrating with his low voice. fingers combing through your hair, in your own corner of the living room as robin and nancy attempt to clean the floor.

jonathan and argyle are picking up tiny shards of glass, not an ounce of conversation between them. all still reeling from eddie’s outburst. you were sure he was going to jail, there wasn’t any way he could possibly wriggle out of this one.

‘we should-,’ the words getting caught in your throat, ‘we need to help clean,’ pulling back to look at the state of the room, discarded cups and splatters of alcohol on the walls.

‘we’re nearly done.. you should go to bed,’ robin nods, wringing the cloth out into the sink.

even they had come to the conclusion that this was something to do with you. you and steve in particular. the way eddie’s eyes had locked onto you the second steve had pulled him off of the boy.

you knew it. he’d been frosty and unusual with you all morning. with everyone in fact.

eddie emerges from his room for the first time in days. looking worse for wear and feeling just as shit. the tag on his ankle restricting him from leaving the apartment freely.

he peers down at the blinking red light, mentally cursing the plastic as he drags his feet along the carpet. he can hear you and steve chatting quietly, not really able to make out what was being said.

not expecting you both to be sprawled out on the couch, your leg draped over his waist as your delicate fingers combed through his hair. the last few days had been so bleak, that he couldn’t really find it in himself to hate that you were sharing these moments with steve.

he sighs loudly, hoping to let you know he’d entered the room. not wanted to be involuntarily including in whatever may have happened next.

you sit up slightly, gazing at him stood behind the kitchen counter, ‘hey,’ it’s quiet, but he hears it. almost deciding to ignore until he remembers how much you’d doted on him and helped him recently.

‘hi,’ but he doesn’t look back, staring into the empty fridge, waiting for something to materialise. but it doesn’t.

‘when’s your court date?’

the words sear in his ear, an unwelcome subject.

‘next tuesday,’ deciding upon a swig of milk straight from the carton, not exactly the five-course meal he was hoping for.

‘okay well, we were.. we’re gonna come, y’know.. for support,’ your eyes are unrelenting, following him around the kitchen.

‘don’t bother, i’m pleading innocent,’ completely monotonous in his response.

he’d already argued with the state provided lawyer about this. a shoddy man who could not care less whether eddie went down or not, just wanting to cash his cheque at the end of it all.

the balding man had called him stupid, ‘there are multiple witnesses.. plead guilty and they’ll probably pity you n’ slap you with some community service or summit.. don’t be stupid son.’

you scoff, using steve’s chest as leverage as you sit up properly, ‘you’re joking? right?’

his eyes finally meet yours, thumping his fists on the marble counter, ‘i am innocent,’ no one could understand where he was coming from, not even the man who was being paid to at least pretend to care and understand.

‘you beat the shit out of him, eddie.. you broke his fucking jaw,’ your eyes are wide, looking at him like he’s an idiot- which he was, but not about this.

‘i was provoked, self defence,’ he says in all serious. he was frustrated, lashed out but at the end of it all, the guy had bashed him first.

‘wh- because he accidentally knocked into you? you really must be fucking stupid.. what are you thinking?’

eddie notices steve, or what he could see of him, tense up, obviously not wanting to anger the violent monster eddie had become in so many people’s eyes.

‘it’s my choice.. i was fucking provoked, saw some stupid shit.. that’s not my fault,’ relinquishing the blame to you.

in his eyes, if he hadn’t seen the disgusting display of affection, he probably wouldn’t have fucked up that boy. but he had, and that wasn’t his fault. so how was he guilty?

‘you’re ridiculous.. i actually can’t believe you,’ your eyes full of disappointment.

the way your face falls, eyes narrowed and sharp as knives makes his heart twist. genuine hurt flashed on your face. almost paralleling the horrified expression you’d held as he was cuffed and dragged away.

‘it’s my decision, i wouldn’t expect you to know a thing about what it’s like to be me,’ kicking the fridge door closed with a loud thump.

you disappear from his sight, flopping back down onto steve’s chest with an exasperated sigh. he rolls his eyes before stomping off into his bedroom. his mood probably wouldn’t be so terrible if he could just leave this godforsaken apartment.

actually, why shouldn’t he? if you were so certain that he was going to jail anyway, what harm was there in going out? fuck it.

so he gets dressed, pulling his denim jacket on and spritzing himself with aftershave. he’d worry about the tag later, surely one of his buddies would have something to hack it off with. hopefully with minimal damage to his leg.

you don’t even look up from steve’s eyes when he comes back out, having had enough of his idiotic attitude for the day.

‘woah, where are you go-,’ steve starts before being cut off with the front door shutting, he was gone, without so much of a look back.

jogging down the stairs and out of this suffocating hellhole.

it doesn’t take long for the police to show up, banging their fists on the door and red in the face with anger.

they grilled you and steve for what felt like hours. making sure you hadn’t helped in his escape. tearing his room apart for some sort of clue to where he’d gone.

‘we found the tag at a location not far from here.. could anyone be hiding him? he’s in serious trouble.. we need anything you’ve got,’ the officer pleads, frustrated with having to deal with this bullshit on a thursday night. you don’t blame him.

you shake your head, ‘no.. i-i mean, there’s a few bars down on main but our friends aren’t stupid enough to help him.’

any previous feelings of worry had disappeared, replaced with frustration. you weren’t prepared to spend your whole life trying to find eddie every time he decided to run away. he so obviously didn’t give a shit about what you thought, it was a waste of energy at this point.

the officer sighs, ‘right, well you let us know if he gets in contact or comes back here,’ rummaging in his pocket for a small bit of card, ‘that’s my personal number.. call me straight away.’

you nod, thumbing the glossy card and flopping back onto the couch. steve shows them out, closing the door softly after they leave. he gives you a look, full of pity. he doesn’t say a thing but you know what he’s thinking.

‘i’m done,’ holding your hands up, ‘he can get himself out of this one.. i don’t care anymore,’ surrendering completely.

he nods, looking as just as tired as you felt. sometimes you forget that this isn’t just between you and eddie, steve is right in the middle of it all too, staying quiet and holding back for eddie’s sake.

you’d tried to be courteous and thoughtful with eddie. pulling away from steve when he’d enter the room, trying not to be so overly affectionate in front of him. you felt like maybe you owed him that for how you’d gone about it, but why?

not once had he ever shown interest in being with you romantically, he was the one that’d explicitly said that you and him were friends with some added benefits. screw him.

‘you hungry? i wanna get out of here,’ pushing yourself from the couch and throwing your arms around steve’s waist, cheek squished against his chest.

‘i could eat,’ returning the hug, swaying slightly as his hands roam around your back.

eddie’s pov

eddie checks his phone for the umpteenth time.

no new notifications

he was anticipating at least something from you by now. hell, even a pathetic hi would’ve sufficed. the man wasn’t dumb, choosing to hole himself up in gareth’s basement with a six-pack rather than hitting the main spots.

he questions whether the dinghy, dark basement was any better than the confines of the room he’d escaped. supposing that you and steve weren’t next door, anything would be better.

he debates just calling you first. curious to know why you hadn’t called. maybe after the next beer. or maybe now. fuck it, it’s already dialling.

it rings and rings, becoming increasingly concerned with your well-being.

‘what?’ your voice rings out after the fifth or sixth ring.

he’s taken aback, ‘hello to you too,’ taking another swig of beer, his knees pulled up to his chest.

‘what d’you want?’

christ. you really weren’t falling for it this time.

‘nothin’.. just expected to hear from you by now, that’s all.’

he can hear the eye roll through the phone, your tiny almost inaudible little tut, ‘i’m not saving you this time.’

‘i didn’t ask you to.’

‘so why’d you call then? i’m busy.’

‘you with steve?’ he doesn’t even know why he asked, of course you were.

‘yeah, i am.. is that what you wanted to hear? or were you hoping i was out searching for you with the police?’

ouch. you’d called him out. figured out his silly game and threw it straight back in his face.

‘i didn’t- you just had to rub it in, didn’t you?’ anger rising in his throat, ‘you always do.’

‘you think i’m doing this to make you jealous? this isn’t about you anymore.. you need to get over yourself,’ you sigh, empathetic about the harsh words that’d just spilled out, ‘i love him, eddie.. you’re gonna have to deal with that.’

and with that the phone clicks. you’d hung up. you had hung up on him, no grovelling or pleading for him to come back home. that was it. the harsh truth and now he had to just sit with it.

his head falls back against the cold brick, staring up at the damp covered ceiling, weighing up his options. he knew he’d fucked up. best case scenario, he’d get a couple extra months on his sentence. worst case, they’d throw the book at him for wasting their time.. not to mention the already hefty sentence for the assault.

you had completely and utterly exhausted yourself trying to support him and even you had had enough. he only had himself to blame for that. maybe jail would be a good thing? he could get his head straight.. get over you, maybe even find some purpose in his life.

he pulls another beer from the pack, cracking it open and taking a long swig. exhaling as the bitter liquid seeps down his throat. there was only one way out of this fucked situation and he knew that.

eddie perks up when he hears your key in the door, sat on the couch for what seemed like hours waiting for you both to get back.

your face drops the instant you see him, gripping onto steve’s hand as you walk into the dimly lit living room.

eddie stands, holding up his hands, ‘i’m gonna hand myself in.. i just-,’ he exhales deeply, ‘i wanted to say goodbye,’ jaw tense as he looms between you and steve.

‘you are? do you want me to call the sheriff? i- he gave me his number..’

‘no, no.. i’m gonna go down there.. it’s easier,’ eddie motions towards the door, shaking his head.

you stand dumbfounded for a second before nodding slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, ‘it’s the right thing to do..’ the lump in your throat growing as you look back at the pathetic man in front of you.

steve gives him a weak smile, patting his hand on your arm. there’s a brief moment of silence. the three of you all staring back at one another in awe of the fucked up mess you’d wound up in.

‘c’mere,’ steve motions to eddie, walking over to the boy with arms outstretched. he pulls him into a bear hug, clapping his palm on eddie’s back.

from the look on eddie’s face squished against steve’s shoulder you can tell he needed it, ‘i’ll miss you man..’ he breathes into his best friend’s sweater.

‘we’ll come and visit.. you’re not getting rid of me that easy,’ his laugh is shaky as he pulls away, smiling proudly at his friend.

you stand slightly behind steve, watching on with tears brimming in your eyes. even though steve had tried to reassure you, you couldn’t help but feel so guilty that this had ultimately all happened because of you.

eddie walks over slowly, throwing his arms around your body, gripping his fingers into your arms knowing that this may very well be the last time he ever got to hold you like this.

your arms cling around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest, ‘i’m proud of you..’ was all you managed to croak out, tears wetting his dirty t-shirt.

he sniffs, swallowing the lump in his throat, ‘thank you.. for everything,’ because truly, you were the only person to never give up on him, even if he had made it incredibly difficult for you.

you lift your head off of his chest, staring up at him with sodden cheeks, bottom lip quivering as you let go of him. both physically and emotionally.

he puffs his cheeks out, wiping his face with the back of his hand before clearing his throat and nodding at the pair of you, ‘you take care of her..’ eyebrow raised.

‘aye aye captain,’ steve gives him a tight lipped smile and a half-assed salute, watching as the man he had grown up with walked out of the apartment, head held high and a newfound spring in his step.

the end of the beginning.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #steve harrington smut

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crystlizabeth · 1 year ago

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You belong to me..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Shadow!femreader

Summery: she may have been a shadow and worked for graves but when your commanders friendliness becomes a bit to touchy it’s a problem, you don’t touch pretty things that belong to Simon Riley.

Warnings: possessiveness, unprotected sex, jealousy, praising, mentions of blood, not proofread

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon hated watching those shadows touch you, even if it was ‘friendly’. You smiled at every praise that left Graves lips of how you did such a good job, the pat to your back to low for Simon’s liking and the way he let his hand drag as he walked away. Simon couldn’t help but wonder how Graves was towards you when nobody was around, even if he was your commander your superior he wasn’t allowed to touch you like that. Simon clenched his fist as you stood there soon turning towards him, your gaze different a look a smile that was only meant for him displayed on your pretty face.

A sweet face that he’d have buried in a pillow tears go pleasure running down you face. You saw the way his eyes watched you his dark eyes hooded dangerously staring you down. Price catching Simon’s attention was the only thing that made him look away from you, one last glance towards you before following Price.

Even with that gold ring on your finger signafying that you where his, the last name on your Files no longer yours but his. It wouldn’t be enough he wanted you to himself he had begged price multiple times to call a transfer of you to 141 but Graves always declined because you worked for the United States, the Shadows you belonged to Graves.

But jealousy gets the best of everyone right?

Simons hands grabbing the side of Phillips vest slamming him against the wall, “what crawled up your ass and died Lieutenant.” Graves groaned.

“Why is it you always find your hands on my wife.” Simon spoke his face close to Phillips, his voice dark.

An ugly smirk appeared on Phillips face the cocky twat only shrugged his shoulders a short reply “She’s nice, a good asset to me. She is a good asset.”

That right there if he could without geting put away for life would have taken his knife and silt Phillips throat, carving the commander inside out and feed it to his Shadows and Shepherd himself. Instead Ghost fist connected to his face, more than once, enough to leave blood on his hands and the shirt he wore. He let go of Graves letting him slide down the wall, “if you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands to yourself and mouth shut.” Simon spike lowly leaning down to make eye contact with him.

“I don’t see what she sees in you…” Phillip coughed wiping the blood from his nose.

Simon stayed silent, he didn’t need to answer that because you saw him for him he didn’t have to explain what you saw in him to someone who’s been wanting you to themselves. “I’ll give her the world a safe home and face to look at… your really think she’ll stick around you forever, please. I see her more day out of the year you do why do you think I decline those transfers from your captain. Just to spite you and help her forget you.” Phillip said blood dripping from his toothy smile.

Simon was fuming, his knuckles splitting even more from clenching them. Who did graves think he was? You stuck around someone like that, even bleeding and in pain graves still chose to test his limits.

One punch after another Simon was on top of him graves of course fighting back but a man’s rage was different few more punches and he stopped. Phillip was still alive he was gonna leave him there to rot nobody would believe him he was a traitor staying in UK soil this was bound to happen. And even then Simon had proof that it was just self defense.

Grabbing Philips hair making him look up at Him “Ya listen here, stay the fuck off my wife she can work for your or you’ll be smart and start a transfer. But may god help you if you lay a finger on her again.” Simon spoke harshly finishing by pushing Graves against the wall.

The click of your door opening startled you awake, but the figure that stood in the hall light that poured into your room made you less tense. “Simon..you can be in here..” your voice groggy, your eyes scanning over him at yuh turn your light on. He was covered in blood his mask held in his left hand as he looked at you.

You quickly got you closing your door pushing him to the bed sitting him down “who did this to you.. Simon.” You spoke lifting the bloody shirt off his head his blond hair sticking up.

“It’s not mine.”

It’s not his? Who’s was it then, who pushed him over the edge just enough. Was he gonna get in trouble for this, arrested. “Love stop the worrying..” he spoke breaking you out of your thoughts his large hands pulling you towards him.

He pulled you in close sitting you in his lap your thighs falling around his waist, the feeling of his hands grabbing your face made you wince a bit the feeling of dried blood on his hands made you cringe.

“You belong to me..” he spoke his dark eyes penetrating yours. “You belong to me.” His words stern and harsh.

“Say it.”

“I belong to you Simon.” You spoke his hands falling down your face his hands finding the bottom of your shirt lifting it over your head. You could feel the tension radiating of his skin, he was gonna take his stress and the rest of his anger out on you.

“Good girl, say it again, tell me I’m allowed to have you as I please.” He spoke his lips kissing your neck.

You obeyed “ I belong you you Simon, take me. Have me I’m yours.”

His lips met your kissing you so hungrily he was here to remind you who you belonged to. His hand grabbed the band if your panties pulling his hand back harshly snapping them at the pulling them if you your bare cunt exposed to his trousers. He lifted you up dropping your body on the the mattress as he undid his pants, quickly finding himself on top of you.

“Are you sure.”

“Take me Simon, I’m yours.”

That’s all he needed to hear, his fat head spreading your wet folds apart as he pushing into you. It’s been a minute since he’s been in you but your walls always seemed to mold around him so nicely, those gorgeous sounds you made slipping from your lips as he started moving.

The sound of skin slapping as he fucked into your poor cunt, you drooled for him. He knew how to make a mess out of you, your nails digging into his back as he bullied your pretty pussy. Even with every hard thrust he loved you so well, kissing you so tenderly as your cried out to him. You soft whimpers pleading for him drive him crazy this is how he knew you where his, his to destroy, his to love.

Your finger tangled his his blonde curls tugging on them as he made love to you cradling your head your knees pressed to your chest, he felt every inch of you. “Please don’t stop Si, god please don’t stop.” You cried out.

He didn’t the tightness of your walls staring to clamp around him was enough to bring him to his edge the moans that escaped your lips was enough to make him cum knowing that he made you this way. Your body folded into a mating press as you came on his fat cock. Your pleds for him to cum in you, that you wanted him to fill you marking you as his once again make you need him for days after. His thick seed filling up your puffy cunt, his white nut spilling out the sides as he fucked it into you.

“Common take it, yeah atta girl fucking take it.” He growled pumping in and out of you your nails digging into his biceps the feeling of his thick nut filling you making your eyes roll back.

His cock still in you as he sat up letting your legs fall down your chest falling up and down heavily, your body glistening from sweat. You were gonna be walking funny the next morning that’s for sure, “I didn’t hurt you right?” He asks his calluses hands gliding up and down your torso.

You shook your head no, “good..” he said leaning down kissing your lips tenderly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up yeah..”

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon smut!! I have a Johnny one coming sooner or later!!

#ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x black reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley cod #ghost x black reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #x black reader #black fem reader #phillip graves

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

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No Need To Ask

Chapter Eight - The Wedding

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

2.1K words

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It was the night before the wedding and Y/N was crying into her pillow. It was a mixture of fear and regret. Oscar had been trying his best to comfort her but he’d suddenly disappeared, walking out of the room without a word.

Y/N cried just a little bit harder when Oscar disappeared. He didn’t come back right away, making Y/N feel worse.

And then there was a knock on the door. Y/N didn’t want to answer it at first. She kept quiet, stopping her crying in hopes that the person would go away. “Y/N, it’s me,” came a familiar voice in a loud enough whisper that Y/N could hear him. “My arms are full, can you let me in?”

Y/N jumped up from her bed. She wiped away her tears and pulled open her bedroom door, allowing Oscar to walk back into the room. Oscar hurried in, his arms full of… beer. He dumped the beer onto the bed, careful not to smash the bottle together.

“Oscar, what the hell are you doing?” Y/N asked through a strained laugh.

Oscar picked up one of the beers and pulled a bottle opener from his pocket. “You’re getting married tomorrow so we’re going to have a bit of fun with your last few hours as a single woman.” He passed Y/N the open beer and opened one for himself.

They clinked their glasses together and Oscar put his phone on the dresser as it played music.

Y/N and Oscar got incredibly drunk that night. They danced around the room, spinning each other and busting out their most embarrassing moves. Y/N and Oscar stood on top of her bed, drunkenly trying to recreate the scene from The Breakfast Club. It had them falling on top of each other in fits of laughter.

When they woke up in the morning glass bottles littered the floor. The rug in front of her bed was stained with beer and Oscar was laying beside her, fully clothed. They both were, still fully dressed.

As soon as Y/N opened her eyes she had a pounding headache. Maybe it was the curtains that were still open, maybe it was the pounding at the door.

Oh shit, the pounding at the door. “Despierta, niña estúpida!” Came Mrs Sainz voice.

Y/N was out of bed in an instant. She grabbed a hold of Oscar’s jacket, shaking him awake. “Oscar, get up!” She hissed, dragging him out of the bed.

A groggy Oscar woke up. “Hey,” he said slowly, trying his best not to trip over bottles as he moved to the other side of the room.

“Straighten up and try to pretend you haven’t spent the night in here, okay?”

Oscar nodded. He tucked in his shirt, straightened up his tie and sat at the vanity. He gave Y/N a quick thumbs up and she pulled open the door.

“You are late! Late to your own wedding!” Shouted Mrs Sainz as she pulled Y/N out of the room. Y/N went willingly, but she didn’t have much of a choice. “You smell like alcohol and you look like shit,” she said as she pushed Y/N into the bathroom. “Wash up and sort yourself out,” she commanded. And pulled the door shut, trapping Y/N in there alone.

She looked in the mirror. It only showed a view of herself from the shoulders up. She really did look like shit, tired and clearly hungover. She blinked slowly and ran her hands through her knotted hair, trying to somehow brush through it.

Slowly, Y/N took off her clothes. Her head was still pounding, still in so much pain, as she peeled off her beer-stained shirt. It reeked, so much that she was heaving into the toilet.

It took her a good minute to get the shower running. She waited for the steam to start forming before she climbed in.

The water was scolding. It had Y/N jumping away and eagerly reaching for the cold tap. Before she knew it, the water was freezing. It took her several attempts to get it just right.

Y/N stood under the water far longer than she should have. She soaked it in (literally), the feeling of the water on her skin. It was wonderful, but the heat wasn’t making her head any better.

She took her time rubbing the shampoo into her scalp. While she was running the loofa over her body, there was a knock on the door. “Hurry up!” Shouted Mrs Sainz. “Don’t get pruney!”

Y/N rushed the rest of her shower. She turned off the water and climbed out, wrapping the towel around her body. Gathering up her clothes Y/N held them tight to her chest as she pulled open the bathroom door, coming face to face with Mrs Sainz.

There was nothing more humiliating than being forced to walk down to the parlour in nothing but a towel. Mrs Sainz passed Y/N’s dirty clothes to a maid and pushed open the door to the parlour, letting her inside.

The curtains had been pulled closed, including the one in front of the door. There were people already inside of the parlour, a team ready to do Y/N’s hair and makeup. A dress was hanging up on the back of the door, one that Y/N had tried on yesterday.

The bodice was tightfitting, with the soft, tulle skirt looser. The entirety of the dress had white floral patterns sewn into it, vines and leaves going around the bottom of the skirt and trailing up to the bodice. There seemed to be no sleeves, but they were there, the only parts visible being the floral patterns that would trail down her arms.

“Sit,” commanded Mrs Sainz.

Y/N sat, still clutching the towel as a team women set about doing her hair. They dried her hair and brushed through it, styling it intricately (I don’t want to properly describe the hair here, so this one is for your imagination).

Y/N was in there for a good hour while her hair was being done. Mrs Sainz had disappeared while Y/N was sat there, reappearing shortly with a glass of water and two white tablets. “For the hangover,” she said, almost kindly.

Gratefully, Y/N took the tablets and swallowed them along with the water. She sat patiently, quietly as the makeup team set to work.

And then it was time for Y/N to get changed into her dress. She stood, covering herself up as her towel was taken away. The same team of ladies helped her into the dress, zipping up the back.

Y/N sat at the vanity, staring at herself. She looked beautiful, she couldn’t deny. Y/N only ever thought she’d look like this one the day she’d marry the man she loved. But instead, she was marrying for business. “Here,” came Mrs Sainz voice.

Turning around, Y/N saw her holding out a box. Inside of the box was a pair of delicate earrings, shaped like small, dangling vines with a gorgeous stone on the end of each of them. “Wow,” she whispered, her fingers gently touching the velvet box. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“This is not a marriage of love, but maybe one day it will be,” said Mrs Sainz, finally showing some compassion. “If I had the choice, my son would be marrying for love, but that isn’t how things would in our world. I hope for my son’s sake that you can find it in yourself to love him.”

“Thank you,” muttered Y/N. “I hope so too.”

Y/N waited in the parlour as guests arrived at the church. Carlos was already there, talking to the other sons in mafia families. He spoke to Charles, whose brother Lorenzo was currently the head of the family, and Max, whose father was a ruthless tyrant. Max wasn’t though. He’d been forced to grow up too soon and was now letting his childish side out while he could, before he had to take over the Verstappen family.

After an hour of waiting, Carlos’ giggling sisters came into the parlour. They said something to their mother in Spanish, who subsequently turned to Y/N. “The car has arrived,” she said.

This was it. She was getting married.

But then Y/N remembered something. “What about Oscar?” She asked suddenly, looking back towards the stairs as she was escorted out of the parlour, holding up her skirts.

Mrs Sainz cleared her throat. “Your… friend will not be joining us for the ceremony,” she said.

“But-”

“He may join us at the reception,” she said and pushed Y/N along, towards the front of the house.

With her heart beating erratically, Y/N sat in the white car. She watched as the Spanish countryside passed as they headed towards the church. The church where Carlos was waiting. The church where her brother was. The church where Oscar wasn’t.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Before Y/N knew it they had pulled up to the church. It was beautifully decorated, with two thick rows of white flowers starting at the door and running along the pews. The church was huge, with large stained-glass windows depicting religious scenes. The stained-glass windows didn’t allow for much light into the church, so large candles, dripping with wax were in every free space.

And Carlos. Y/N could just see him at the altar. He wore a simple black suit and what looked like a bowtie, but she couldn’t tell from this distance.

Lando stood outside of the church. He waited for Y/N to climb out of the car, a sad smile on his face. “Hey there, Y/N,” he said softly.

Y/N ran to her brother. She couldn’t stop herself. She’d been missing him like crazy while in Spain, it felt unreal to have him there with her. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she mumbled, trying not to press her face into his shoulder, trying her best not to mess up her makeup.

“Where’s Oscar?” He asked, looking behind her. He’d expected to see the Australian climbing out of the car after her. But the car was empty and no sign of Oscar. If anything had happened to him, Mark was going to kill him.

But Y/N didn’t get a chance to answer. Mrs Sainz cleared her throat and, almost like it was a cue, the organ started up. “Ready?” Asked Lando as he looped his arm through Y/N’s.

Mrs Sainz rushed forward to take her seat beside her husband. Carlos’ sisters took their place in front of them, giggling to themselves about something Y/N couldn’t understand as they walked forward.

The moment they took their first step, that was it. That was the beginning of Y/N’s wedding. She looked at her brother, but he couldn’t look at her, focused forward as they began walking.

The organ grew louder as they walked further and further into the church. Y/N could feel eyes on her as she took slow, small steps, trying to delay the inevitable. “You got this this,” Lando whispered to her. “You can do this.”

But Y/N couldn’t reply. If she tried, she could have choked up and broke down in the middle of the church.

Before they knew it, Y/N was at the altar. Lando went to let go of her, but Y/N held tight. “Please, no,” she squeaked, but Lando pulled away from her and took his seat with the few men he was allowed to bring. Lewis Hamilton, who sat behind him, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as the ceremony began.

The ceremony was in Spanish. Y/N had no idea what was being said, but she kept her focus on Carlos. Undeniably handsome Carlos. The man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought as she looked into his brown eyes.

Y/N didn’t know when she was supposed to say ‘I do’, and it had her heart racing. But she found herself looking to Carlos for some sort of cue. He said his part, and then prompted Y/N, quietly translating what the priest was saying. “Do you, Y/N, take Carlos to be your wedded husband,” he said quietly, keeping his gaze on her. “To cherish in friendship and love today, for as long as you both shall live. To honour him, comfort him and to keep him for better or worse, for richer or poor, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?” He recited.

Y/N used the small translation Mrs Sainz had taught her. “Si Quiero,” she answered almost timidly.

It was as simple as that. She was a married woman.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1

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likirahub99outfitstees · 5 months ago

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Welldone iPhone Cases, Kid's T-shirts, Baseball T-shirts, Coffee Mugs, and Many More visit the shop now and grab the discounts.

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sahrma · 1 year ago

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Pillow Perfection: Unveiling the Top Picks in the UK

Discover Pillow Perfection with our curated selection of the top picks in the UK! Elevate your sleep experience with pillows designed for ultimate comfort and support. Our collection features a blend of luxurious materials, innovative designs, and the latest in sleep technology.

#the best pillows uk

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smashing-teacups · 2 months ago

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My very dear friend (who is so grumpy that J&C hijacked her brain again when she wanted a break 🤣) @theawkwardterrier tagged me in an invite to share a section of one of my WIPs. So hey, how about a peek at an upcoming chapter of Atonement? 👀

______

In the second month, they began their respective job searches in earnest.

On that particular front, Claire had an undeniable advantage: there was a terrible nursing shortage throughout the UK, and more job postings than she knew what to do with. She had enough experience to be accepted at practically every bedside position, and so she had the ability to be selective.

A very fortunate state to find herself in, she found out rather quickly, as there were a number of positions that… well, positions she wasn’t sure she would be best suited for anymore.

Wound care, for example, was definitely out. Just reading the vague clinical expectations under the first post made her snap her laptop shut, her skin chilled and mind numb. She held Jamie from behind later that night, tears soaking her pillow as she traced the scars that had once been open flesh. The memories were as vivid as if she were living them all over again; she could see the snake of saturated pink gauze she’d pulled out of his back by the meter, watch her gloved hand depress a syringe of morphine into his IV, hear her own murmurs of reassurance as she reached wrist-deep into the cavernous wounds to begin packing them again…

So, no. Nothing with wound care.

Anything on a neurology floor was likewise out of the question. The prospect of monitoring an EEG took her right back to the endless days and nights when those incomprehensible squiggling lines were burned into her retinas, watching for any change that might signify a seizure. The ICUs in general were out for that same reason. Just the sounds alone — the non-stop beeping of monitors and IVs, the whoosh of the ventilator and hiss of suction equipment—

She couldn’t.

Her damned glass face as she scrolled the job boards must have told her husband far more than she ever would have said aloud; it didn’t take long before she woke to find a folded newspaper on the kitchen table alongside her morning coffee. Circled once, with a question mark beside it, was an advertisement from a local primary care office in town, seeking a clinic nurse.

Claire looked over the top of the paper to find Jamie watching her apprehensively, as though unsure if he’d overstepped. The moment she caught his eye, he dropped his gaze and blew on his steaming coffee. “It’d be quieter than ye’re used to,” he said around a careful sip, “but somethin’ to consider, mebbe.”

Softening with tenderness, she reached for his hand across the table. “No, it’s—it’s a good thought. Thank you. Maybe I need the quiet, I don’t know.” With a sigh, she smoothed her free hand over her face and back into her hair. “That’s just it, I don’t… I don’t know what it is I want any more.” Peering up at her husband through her lashes, she admitted with a self-deprecating smile, “Suppose I’ve just been hoping I’ll know it when I see it.”

Returning the smile so that his soft morning eyes crinkled with it, Jamie brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’m sure you will. The right job’ll find ye when it’s meant to, Sassenach. I know it.”

#smashingteacups #atonement #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #wee preview

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lumosandnoxwriting · 8 months ago

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Never Let Go || George Weasley

Title: Never Let Go Pairing: George x Reader Summary: Turns out building a family isn’t as easy as George thought it would be. A/N: part 2 to dad!george x nanny!reader! Though it’s not so much nanny!reader anymore as it’s more like stepmom!reader but whatever! Hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome/appreciated! <3

It’s no surprise that George finds them in the backyard.

Summer is finally in full swing in the UK, and he knows Y/N likes to have Remi out in the fresh air as much as possible. The almost two year old has them on their toes, and spending the day out in the garden, running through the grass seems to be the only way to ensure Remi falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. And George really does mean an actual pillow, since they recently upgraded the crib in her room to a toddler bed.

He has no idea where the time has gone.

He had hoped to sneak up on them, considering the fact that it’s the middle of the day on Tuesday and he’s supposed to be at work. But when he steps out onto the back porch he isn’t met with the sight of Y/N and Remi kicking a ball back and forth or blowing bubbles. No, the scene he walks in on is much more precious.

Y/N is laying in the hammock, one foot on the ground to slowly rock it back and forth while Remi lays on top of her chest, fast asleep. They’ve got matching white sundresses on, a gift for Mother’s Day from Molly. He figures Y/N is asleep too, but when the deck stairs creak under his weight her eyes open and a bright grin takes over her face.

“George,” she breathes, voice quiet so as to not wake their toddler. “You’re home early.”

“I missed my girls and I’ve been jealous of all the fun you two have been having together,” George explains as he approaches. “Besides, Fred has been having so much fun torturing the interns he won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

Y/N giggles and pats the empty netting beside her. “Here, come join us.” When George gives Remi a weary glance, she waves away his concerns. “She’s out cold and probably will be for another hour, Sandra next door’s St. Bernard chased her around the yard for over an hour this morning.”

George rounds the hammock, carefully easing himself down next to the girls so he doesn’t flip them. He lays down on his side facing Y/N, propping his head up with one hand while the other rests on Remi’s bum, just below where Y/N’s own hand is. He leans in and kisses his daughter’s messy curls, before placing one on his girlfriend’s temple.

He can’t believe that it’s been almost eighteen months since that day at the brownstone, when he opened up his front door to meet his new nanny only to fall head over heels in love with her instead. It’s hard to believe how much has changed in such a short time.

For starters he sold that stupid brownstone that he loved so much. As Remi got older it was clear his bachelor pad was not easily converted into a family home, and the pathetic stretch of grass he called a back yard was insufficient for his sweet summer child who loved running barefoot in the grass. Plus with Y/N in their lives, the possibility of someday growing their family was always in the back of George’s mind and a London townhome was barely big enough for the three of them.

So with a great return on his investment and a little dipping into his savings, George was able to buy a large family home in one of the uppity neighborhoods on the outskirts of London. Sure his commute every day is hell, but they’ve got a backyard big enough for them to add a dog or two, the best schools in the country are just a short walk away, and there’s plenty of room in case they decide to add to their family one day.

Which is something George hopes happens soon, one of the biggest changes that has happened since Y/N came into their lives. Before Remi George had a hard time imagining himself settling down, getting married and having some kids, and whenever he did it was far into the future by at least ten years. Once Remi was dropped into his lap that outlook had changed, but he always figured it would be just him and his daughter, something he was totally okay with.

Falling in love with Y/N totally changed all of those plans.

He didn’t want a life that was just him and Remi. He wanted one that included Y/N and the love and light she brings with her, with as many kids as she wants to give him. And he didn’t want that life years from now anymore, he wanted it as soon as she would allow him to stick a ring on her finger.

Hence the diamond ring tucked away in the safe at work. George doesn’t think she’s quite there yet, but as soon as she is he’ll be down on one knee and making her his wife.

But by far the biggest change that’s happened is the fact that he no longer has a nanny. Because now Y/N is a stay at home mum. So far that change has certainly been the most difficult, and it’s all thanks to the stubborn girl laying next to him.

Once their relationship became romantic George knew Y/N could no longer be his nanny. Simply for the fact that it felt wrong to hand her a paycheck on Friday morning only to have her underneath him in bed that night. Besides, once that line had been crossed they both considered Remi to be their daughter, not just George’s and he certainly wouldn’t pay his wife or the mother of his child to take care of them.

So he had proposed two possible paths to Y/N.

The first being that he would stop paying her to watch Remi, and in turn George would take over all financial responsibility in their home. His money would become their money, and George would take care of all of their bills while she stayed at home and took care of the house and Remi.

Y/N had flat out told him no. Which aggravated him and made him fall even more in love with her. But George had understood her response once she had explained that of course she considers Remi her daughter, the fact of the matter is she really isn’t Remi’s mum, and she’d feel weird taking on a role without having felt like she really earned it. Which George thought was total bullshit, he understood her point of view, but he thought it was bullshit.

Which led him to propose the second path. Y/N would no longer be Remi’s nanny, giving her the ability to seek a new, day time position with another family. She of course would still live at home with them, and George would find a new nanny to look after Remi during the day while they were both at work.

He figured that would be the perfect solution. Y/N would still be making her own money while getting to be with him and Remi, Remi would have still have that one on one care George wanted for her and he no longer had to pay his girlfriend to hang out with their kid.

Except her response to this proposition was the same as the first. Hell no.

Which had pissed George off to no end. He was trying to find a solution that would make their family work and keep all of them happy, and his sweet, stubborn girl shot him down. Twice. His anger had abated when during one of their arguments Y/N explained that the thought of another woman being in their home taking care of their daughter made her absolutely sick to her stomach. Because how the fuck could George be mad at her for being jealous at the thought of someone else being with Remi.

So for months George kept signing Y/N’s paychecks and they kept fighting about how best to handle things moving forward. And George uses the term fighting very loosely, considering the fact it was more him trying to convince Y/N to let him take care of her and her saying no.

It wasn’t until they moved into the new house, and their neighbor Sandra slapped George across the face and yelled about him being a dirty cheater, did they finally come to an agreement.

Because when Y/N took Remi to the park down the road she’d introduced herself as Remi’s nanny to the neighborhood moms and nannies that were there with their kids. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that they started to notice that when Remi called her Mama she never corrected her, and on the weekends it was always George and “the nanny” taking Remi to the park together and they always seemed to be so close.

So when Sandra saw them kiss in the driveway before George went off to work it seemed to confirm the neighborhood gossip that had been going around for weeks: George Weasley was screwing his nanny and was going to replace Remi’s biological mother with her.

Which explains why Sandra, a woman George had barely spoken to at that point, assaulted and confronted him on his own property. Thankfully Y/N had been able to calm Sandra down, and after awkwardly explaining to her that Y/N was both Remi’s nanny and George’s girlfriend and that there was no other woman involved, the rumor mill dried up and everything went back to normal.

But Y/N felt so terrible that she agreed to quit her job as Remi’s nanny, with the stipulation that George let her work a job that still allowed her to be home with their little girl during the day. So now she works for a few families in the neighborhood as a nanny part time, that way whether she’s working or not Y/N is still Remi’s full time caretaker and she can contribute to the house with her own money.

“Whatcha thinking about?” YN murmurs after they’ve been sitting in silence for a bit.

“You, Remi, life,” George answers simply.

“I can’t believe she’s almost two,” Y/N says wistfully, slowly rubbing Remi’s back. “I feel like just yesterday she was learning to crawl and asking for more juice by throwing her empty sippy cup at me,” she pauses as they both laugh. “Now she runs circles around me and says please and thank you.”

“It’s hard to believe that she used to be that tiny, fragile baby I found on my doorstep.”

Y/N stiffens next to him, just like she always does whenever Remi’s biological mother or how Remi came to be in George’s life is mentioned. She’s never even met the woman, but Y/N feels nothing but hatred towards her purely because of how carelessly she abandoned her little girl. There’s also a little jealousy there too, because as Remi gets older it is apparent that looks wise, she takes after the woman who provided the other half of her DNA, giving Remi a connection to her that Y/N will never have. She will love Remi with her whole heart until the moment she takes her last breath, but she will never be the woman that gave her life.

“Even though I hate the way she came into your life,” Y/N starts, tilting her head back so she can look up at George. “I’m really fucking glad she did.”

“Me too, baby,” George agrees, leaning in to kiss Y/N softly. “Me too.”

“What are the ethical and legal implications for fucking an intern?” Fred asks suddenly, making all of the men groan. “Hypothetically, of course.”

Every month the Weasley brothers get together for a guys night. They play poker, drink beer and just catch up with each other. They’re at Bill’s tonight, in a shed out in the garden that he converted into a man cave. It’s a full house tonight, with George, Fred, Ron, Bill, Charlie and Ginny’s fiancé Harry all in attendance, and all of them are looking at Fred with disappointment.

“Fred, you shouldn’t have fucked an intern,” Bill scolds, forever the responsible eldest brother.

“Hey, I never said I did. I said hypothetically speaking,” Fred points out. “And I’m a little hurt by all of the judgment boys. Georgie over here fucked his employee and all of you congratulated him. Not fair.”

George rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his beer. “First of all, fuck face, if you talk about my future wife like that ever again I’ll knock you on your ass. Second of all, what happened with Y/N and I is completely different than whatever you plan on doing with one of our interns.”

“Oh please brother, enlighten me,” Fred snaps.

“Well for one I’m not nearly a decade older than her,” George responds, narrowing his eyes as he glares at his brother. “Not to mention the second things turned romantic I tried to fire her, not my fault Y/N is the most stubborn woman on the planet. Any intern you hump and dump will still be our employee for at least two more months. And fraternization in that manner can certainly be construed as sexual harassment, which could end in a horrible, very public lawsuit that will ruin the company we worked so hard to build. Me kissing Y/N ended in a very happy, healthy, romantic relationship. We are not the same.”

Fred is silent for a few moments, and George is almost certain he’s gotten through to his twin. Until the other man opens his mouth.

“So what you’re saying is I should wait until August, once their internship has ended, to fuck them?”

“I need another fucking drink,” George grumbles, pushing away from the table before he heads towards the little bar Bill has set up in the corner. He drowns out the conversation Ron has started, since it’s mainly focused on which intern Fred has his eye on, so he’s surprised when Bill slides up next to him.

“Hey. I’ve got that number you asked Fleur for,” Bill murmurs, holding out a piece of paper for George to take.

He gives it a quick glance, noting it’s nothing but a phone number, no name or identifying information, before he slips it into his pocket. “Thanks man, I appreciate it.” Both the number Bill has given him and his discretion in how he chose to give it to him.

Because George isn’t one hundred percent certain what he’s doing is legal, and the less people that know about it the better.

It feels kind of silly, scolding Fred about ethics and legal ramifications when George finds himself in a similar position, but his motivation has nothing to do with getting his dick wet, so he feels like his pursuit is at least a little justified.

Six months ago he had his lawyer start looking into what’s legally required for Y/N to be able to adopt Remi once they get married. He knows it kills her that the only claim she has to Remi is the one in her heart and George wants to make sure that she has the legal rights to their daughter as well.

Unfortunately for George, the answer was far from simple. Because when Emily, Remi’s biological mother, dropped her on his doorstep there was no documentation that she was officially terminating her rights. Meaning that even though George has been her sole legal guardian for nearly 24 months at any moment in time Emily can reappear, demand custody and have it granted. It also means that Y/N can’t legally become Remi’s mother.

His lawyer had spent a few months trying to dig up any information, in the hopes that Emily had filed the paperwork to terminate her rights and they just didn’t know about it. When that search turned up empty their focus pivoted, and George had his attorney find out how to contact Emily, hoping that they could get her to agree to meet and come in to sign her rights away.

But so far every attempt has failed. Either the numbers his lawyer finds are out of service or no one returns their call. Places of employment claim to have no employees under that name and every address is outdated. It’s been months since their search began and they still have nothing.

Luckily for George his sister-in-law knows some interesting people. He doesn’t want or need to know why Fleur has the number for a private investigator who has a knack for hacking, he’s just thankful that she does.

Because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his family.

But the blurred lines between right and wrong keep him from telling Y/N about the information Bill passed along to him when she asks him how boy’s night went as he slips into bed beside her that night. That way if this all ends up blowing up in his face George will be the only one hurt in the process.

At least he hopes.

The little family Y/N pulled together started on an unsuspecting Monday morning.

So it makes sense that it all starts to fall apart on one too.

“What did you forget this time?” Y/N teases as she pulls open the front door. George only left for work a few minutes ago, and after a weekend at home with their family it’s pretty typical for him to get on the road only to have to turn around to retrieve something he forgot. But the smile fades from her face when she realizes George isn’t the one who rang the bell, but a beautiful brunette woman.

A beautiful brunette woman who has soft curls falling down her back and a face shape that she would recognize anywhere considering the fact that she presses a kiss to that same arched brow every single night.

Nope, Remi’s Father is not standing on the porch - her Mother is.

The woman, Emily, smiles at Y/N either oblivious to the distress on her face or she simply does not care enough to react to it. “Is George home?”

“N-no,” Y/N stutters out, too stunned to say anything else. “He’s at work.”

Emily shakes her head, looking Y/N up and down in a way that’s anything but friendly. “Ah, you must be the nanny then.”

The way she says nanny creates a pit in Y/N’s stomach, and it takes all of her strength not to flinch. Because how fucking dare this woman who abandoned her child show up years later and be anything but thankful and appreciative for the woman who picked up her slack.

“Is there something I can help you with, Emily?” she asks after taking a moment to compose herself.

Because as much as she wants to give this woman a piece of her mind, Remi is just in the other room, and she has to keep her head on straight to make sure no harm comes to her daughter. No matter what this horrid woman thinks of Y/N, Remi is hers, and she’d do anything to keep that little girl safe.

If Emily is surprised to be recognized it doesn’t show on her face. She pulls a card out of her pocket, offering it to Y/N. “No, George will know why I was here. Have him give me a call.”

Y/N isn’t in control of her body as she reaches a shaky hand out and takes the proffered card, her mind numb. She watches as Emily turns on her heel and walks away without a care in the world. Like she didn’t just blow up Y/N’s life.

Because why the hell would George know why Emily came by the house?

And why the fuck doesn’t she?

George knows something is wrong the second he walks through the door that night.

Usually the house is filled with noise, Y/N almost always has music playing in the background as she cooks dinner and the sounds of her and Remi laughing echoes off the walls. But tonight when he swings the door open, his mouth opening to shout a greeting he’s met with dead silence.

He’s immediately on edge, worried something has happened to his girls.

“Y/N?” he calls out, voice frantic. “Where are you?”

He searches the bottom floor, switching between calling out for Y/N and Remi, his anxiety heightening each time he goes unanswered. His palms are sweating and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack when he heads upstairs, his body moving without really being aware of where it’s going.

All George knows is that something is wrong and he needs to find Y/N and Remi before he loses his mind.

Finally he swings open Remi’s bedroom door and he takes his first deep breath in what feels like hours. Because Y/N is standing there, her back to the door as she gazes out the window. Her shoulders stiffen, so George knows she’s aware of his presence, but she doesn’t turn when he murmurs her name. It’s then that he finally notices a lack of their daughter, and the packed duffle bag sitting on the floor next to Y/N.

“Where’s Remi?”

“At Bill and Fleur’s,” Y/N answers, her voice flat as she still refuses to look at George.

Her lack of emotion and just general shitty behavior does nothing but piss George off, which is why his words come out sharper than he intends them to. “Y/N what the fuck is going on?”

She finally turns to look at George then, and her appearance has him stifling a gasp. While no tears fall from her eyes, they’re rimmed with red and slightly puffy - a tell-tale sign that she’s spent a good chunk of the day crying. Her body is stiff, her arms crossed like she needs to protect herself. And her eyes, those eyes that George loves so much, are filled with one emotion: betrayal.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

That isn’t what George expected her to say, and he feels a little lame that he doesn’t immediately have a response.

“Maybe you can start by telling me why the fuck, Emily showed up at our house today looking for you, and when I said you weren’t home she just left her number, claiming that you would know exactly why she was here.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

George’s stomach is in knots and he feels like he’s going to throw up. He should have told Y/N that he was looking for Emily, he feels like such an idiot for keeping that from her. His lawyer has called several of her friends and family members to try and get a hold of her, of course one of them was sure to tell Emily George was looking for her. So it really isn’t a surprise that she decided to track him down instead.

Well at least, not a surprise to him. And why should Y/N have been expecting Emily to show up at their door after no contact for almost two years? He really, really fucked up.

“Baby, wait, it’s not what it looks like,” George starts to explain, taking a step towards her.

But Y/N takes a step back, holding up her hand to cut him off. “Really? Because it looks like you went behind my back and sought out the biological mother of the child you claim to be ours, after she abandoned her on a front porch no less.”

Fuck, it sounds even worse when she puts it like that.

“Please, just let me explain,” George pleads.

But Y/N just shakes her head. “The time for you to explain would have been before any of this shit started.” She picks her bag up and tears start to well in her eyes. “I need a second George, to think about things. To think about what Emily being back around means for me and us and this family. Fleur and Bill are going to keep Remi for tonight, and Sandra agreed to watch her while you’re at work for the next few days.”

As she walks out of the room Y/N pauses next to George. “Emily’s number is on the counter in the kitchen. You better have a damn good reason for needing it.”

George stands there alone in the middle of Remi’s bedroom until he hears the front door click shut behind Y/N. It’s only when he’s sure he’s alone does he allow himself to break down: tears rolling down his cheeks as he falls to his knees.

He thought keeping this secret was going to ensure Y/N felt secure in their family, but now it looks like he may have lost her for good.

Y/N plasters a fake smile on her face, not needing all of their friends and family to know how torn up her insides are. Because of course, the weekend after George’s betrayal is Remi’s second birthday, and despite the fact that they’re still not speaking and she’s still not sure where her place in their family is anymore Y/N will always show up for Remi. She’s already had one mother walk out, and Y/N is not about to be another. Emily’s reappearance be damned Y/N loves that little girl, and she’ll happily suffer in silence if it keeps a smile on her daughter’s face.

Despite George’s best efforts, she’s managed to stay away from him so far. Of course they need to have a conversation about what happened, but the middle of their backyard while celebrating their daughter’s birthday is not the time or the place. So she’s kept close to Remi, reveling in the feel of holding her tiny hand as the toddler dragged her around the yard to all of the different activities they have set up.

She’s standing outside the bounce house, watching Remi tumble around with her friends and her Uncle Fred, chatting with one of the Mum’s when she feels his presence behind her. The warmth of his body seeps into her skin, and Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as the scent of his cologne washes over her. Despite all of her hurt and her anger this week without George has been torture, and she’s afraid to admit how good it feels to be near him again.

“Hi,” he greets, leaning in to murmur in her ear. “I’m really fucking happy to see you. I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”

The other Mum gives her a cheeky wink before wandering off, clearly thinking Y/N and George are reconnecting during a quiet moment of a hectic day. Her stomach drops, both in fear and excitement.

“It’s our daughter’s birthday, George,” Y/N responds once she’s composed herself, eyes reopening as she takes a deep breath. “If you think I’d miss it just because I’m pissed at you, you don’t know anything about me. I’m not Emily.”

Regret slaps George in the face, and he kicks himself for being so stupid. He hasn’t been able to think straight since Monday night, when he came home and his whole world fell apart. Life without Y/N is bleak, and if it weren’t for the little girl giggling wildly as she has fun with her friends, George is sure he would have given up by now.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot,” he apologizes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Remi hasn’t been sleeping at night because she misses you and I haven’t been sleeping at night because I miss you and I feel so fucking terrible about everything and I can barely breathe let alone think straight.”

He pauses, taking a second to get his shit together.

“Of course I knew you would show up today, your love for Remi has always come first. That’s what I love most about you, how fiercely you love the people you care about.”

Y/N simply nods, to over run with emotion to trust her voice to come out clear and even. Knowing that Remi has been struggling during this time absolutely kills her, and she hates that she has brought her even an ounce of pain. But at least she’s young, and if this really is it for this relationship, Remi will never remember Y/N and the love and loss her brief stint in her life caused.

That’s a thought Y/N has had many times over this past week, and it’s just as heart wrenching to think about as it was the first time. Remi will never remember Y/N, but she’ll spend the rest of her life loving and missing that little girl.

“Can we talk tonight?” George pleads. “I want to explain everything to you, like I should have done on Monday. Or rather even before that night. And if you still want to walk away from this relationship after that I will let you go. But please know that you will always be a part of Remi’s life, whether you and I are together or not. Remi may have come from Emily, but you are her Mother and you always will be.”

George walks away then, and Y/N furiously wipes at the tears leaking down her cheeks before anyone has the chance to notice.

Y/N decides to hear George out.

Because even though her heart is hurting and she feels like her trust has been broken, just being in his presence today has made her feel the most normal she has all week. Being by his side while they held Remi and everyone gathered around to sing her happy birthday just felt right, like she was just where she was supposed to be. There is no doubt in her mind that George is the love of her life, and Y/N knows deep down that she’ll always regret not fighting for their relationship. And when George had assured her that no matter their relationship status Y/N would always be in Remi’s life, she figured she had nothing to lose by sitting down and hearing George’s side of things.

Plus, sticking around until the last partygoers made their way out means she gets to put Remi to bed for the first time in almost a week.

Which is where she is now, laying on her side in Remi’s bed with the little girl snuggled up against her. They’ve just finished reading her favorite book ‘I love you to the moon and back’ and now Y/N is slowly stroking her soft curls as she watches Remi’s eyes flutter open and closed and she fights off sleep.

“Mama miss me?” Remi’s sweet voice mumbles, and it makes Y/N’s heart break.

She leans in, pressing her lips against Remi’s forehead. “Mama missed you so much, baby.”

“Miss Mama,” Remi agrees, her lips smacking together as she tries to stay awake. “Love you Mama.”

“I love you too, Rem-Dog. More than you’ll ever know,” Y/N promises. That reassurance must make Remi feel safe enough to fall asleep, and Y/N watches as her eyes finally flutter closed and once her daughter’s breaths have evened out she presses one more kiss to Remi’s forehead before extracting herself from the bed.

“Goodnight, baby,” she murmurs, taking a second to tuck the covers tightly over Remi’s body. She heads towards the door, taking one more look over her shoulder before she closes it behind her. Taking a deep breath Y/N steals herself, preparing for whatever conversation is awaiting her downstairs.

George nearly jumps out of his seat when Y/N comes down the stairs, furiously wiping the sweat from his palms on his trousers. He gestures towards the seat across from him, giving her a small smile. “Sit, please.”

Once she’s seated across from him George sits down too, awkwardly fidgeting in his chair. He crosses and uncrosses his legs several times, his hands wringing together as he tries to figure out where to start.

“Thank you for staying and agreeing to hear me out.”

Y/N gives a curt nod. “I’m not making any promises here, George. But I at least owe it to myself and our family to sit here and listen to what you have to say.”

She watches as George grabs a thick manilla envelope off the chair next to him, waiting with bated breath as he slides a document out of it. He places it on the table, slowly sliding it towards her so that she can see what it is.

Y/N takes a moment to read, her eyes scanning the words over and over again so there’s no doubt in her mind what she’s looking at. As the information soaks in, tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, and she presses a hand to her trembling lips.

“George these are,” she starts, eyes finally flicking up to meet him.

“Adoption papers,” George confirms with a nod. “I told you earlier that no matter what happens between us you’ll always be Remi’s Mum, so I figured this would be a good place to start. That way once this conversation is done you can be free to feel however you want to feel, and not make a decision based on your love for Remi. I love you, Y/N, and I want us to be a family. But I understand that you might not feel that way anymore. So all you have to do is sign on the places that are marked, I already did, file these with the court and Remi will legally be yours too.”

“George, I,” Y/N stumbles, unable to find the words. This is the last thing she imagined George would say to her. And she knows now that whatever awful things she thought George was doing behind her back were nothing more than her insecurities speaking out.

When Emily showed up on their porch it surprised Y/N to her core, and all of those negative thoughts she’s had about feeling like she could never measure up to Remi’s biological mother came rushing back to the forefront of her mind; only made worse by the fact that George had seemingly been trying to get in contact with Emily behind her back.

But sitting here, now, with George offering her a permanent place in Remi’s life even if she doesn’t want one in his - she knows. She knows that this is all just some stupid misunderstanding and she nearly let the best thing that’s ever happened to her slip away.

“What about Emily?” Y/N asks, voice shaking. “I mean, isn’t she technically still Remi’s Mother like, legally?” she clarifies. She remembers when they had to register Remi at their new pediatrician after they moved, and they needed her birth certificate for her file. Y/N had noticed that Emily was still listed there, and when she googled what that meant that night, she found out it meant Emily hadn’t ever signed her rights away, so she still, legally, had a claim to their daughter.

“She signed her rights away,” George explains, a small smile forming on his face when Y/N’s jaw drops. “That’s why she showed up that day. My lawyer has been trying to hunt her down for months, and she must have heard I was looking for her.”

“And she signed them away?” Y/N asks, still in disbelief. “Just like that?”

George nods before launching into the story of what happened.

“You’re a hard woman to track down,” Martin, George’s attorney, jokes as Emily and her attorney take seats at the conference table across from them. But the smile is wiped from his face when George gives him a glare.

This is not the time for joking. He’s barely been functioning since Y/N walked out two nights ago, and he just wants to get this shit over with so he can come clean to her and get on his knees to beg for forgiveness. And at least with Emily out of the way, even if Y/N doesn’t want to take him back she can still adopt Remi. He will deal with shared custody and watching Y/N fall in love with someone else as long as it means his girls are together and happy.

“That’s what happens when you don’t want to be found,” Emily replies dryly. Her eyes finally and on George and the smirk that appears on her face makes his stomach turn. “Weasley, long time no see.”

George huffs. “Can we just cut the shit and get this over with? I’d like to get home to my daughter.”

He can’t help but notice that Emily doesn’t react to him claiming Remi as only his, and it just solidifies that going through all this shit was a good decision. Clearly this woman doesn’t give a shit about the little girl they created together, because if he had said something like that in front of Y/N she would have slapped him upside the head and made him sleep on the couch for a week.

“I’m sure she’s doing just fine with the nanny.” Emily’s voice drips with condescension, and it pisses George off even more.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he seethes. “Y/N is not Remi’s nanny, she’s her mother. And she’s a damn good one, which is something you know nothing about, so I’m not going to let you sit here and talk shit about the woman who has stepped up and done what you never had the balls to do.”

The room is silent, George’s words echoing around the room until Emily’s attorney clears his throat.

“Well now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he drawls. “Why are me and my client here?”

“Oh, right.” Martin grabs the manilla envelope sitting on the table, drawing a document out of it. He hands it to Emily’s attorney, giving him a moment to look it over before he speaks again. “We’d like for Emily to relinquish her rights to Remi. It’s been nearly two years since she abandoned the infant, and George would like for his partner to formally adopt their daughter.”

Every second Emily is silent makes George’s stomach sink further and further, and he can feel the bite of his nails digging into his palm from how hard his fists are clenched. Martin had assured George that even if Emily refuses to sign her rights away there were other ways to have them terminated, but it would be a lengthy process. Which George would absolutely not hesitate to pursue, but he wants this done as quickly as possible, which hinges on this right now going the way he wants.

“So I just sign and that’s it? The baby isn’t mine anymore?” Emily finally asks after she’s read the document.

Martin nods in confirmation. “Precisely. If you sign that today I’ll have it filed with the court this afternoon, and you will no longer have any legal rights or ties to Remi.”

“All right, do you have a pen?”

Not even a second of hesitation. The second her attorney puts a pen in her hand Emily is signing, double checking to make sure she hasn’t missed a spot. As soon as she’s satisfied that everything has been taken care of Emily slides the papers back over to Martin, and George feels as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Emily is finally out of the way, and he and Y/N are free to be a family in every way possible.

As long as she still wants him, that is. That part of the plan is still up in the air.

“So, yeah. That was that,” George trails off as his story comes to an end. He sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N as she takes everything in. There’s a few different emotions flitting across their face, but they’re gone before George can tell what they are. Her eyes look at everything in the room except for his face, and he can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not.

“She just signed them away? Just like that?” Y/N finally says, her voice thick with emotion.

“Yep. We were ready to file a lawsuit for abandonment to have them involuntarily terminated but she just picked up a pen and signed them away.”

Y/N shakes her head. “Wow. Fuck her.”

George can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I was pissed at first too, because Remi is fucking amazing and how dare her Mum not realize that and fight to be in her life. But then I realized it doesn’t matter, because Emily isn’t Remi’s Mum and never has been. From the second you walked into our lives you have been her Mum, and the reason why she’s such an amazing little girl is because of you and the love and attention you have shown her. It doesn’t matter that Emily gave Remi half of her DNA, you’ve given Remi everything a real Mother should and that’s what matters.”

She doesn’t even know she’s crying until a few tears drip off of her chin, and Y/N works to quickly wipe them away. Everything George has said just erased every single doubt she’s ever had in her mind. Y/N always felt like Remi and Emily would have some kind of bond due to the fact that they share DNA, but hearing George just now and knowing Emily signed her rights away as if it were nothing proves that it’s all bullshit.

The only woman Remi will ever have that bond with is Y/N, and it has nothing to do with blood.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were looking for Emily, George?” Y/N finally asks. “I would have understood and supported you.”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, for one,” George admits honestly. “When I first talked to Martin about the steps it would take for you to legally adopt Remi I wanted it to be a surprise. I bought a ring and had this whole plan to ask you to officially be a part of this family. But when we found out that Emily hadn’t signed away her rights I decided to keep it to myself. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it wasn’t going to go the way we wanted it to.”

Y/N nods that she understands to encourage George to keep going. It’s actually kind of sweet that George had put so much thought into this whole thing, and she understands why he didn’t say anything. Clearly George was aware of the sore spot Y/N had regarding Emily, and she kind of loves him a bit more for trying to be sensitive to that.

“And then Martin’s search for her was going to shit. Every address we had was old or wrong, every phone number was out of service. Any employer we talked to just said she didn’t work there and any friends or family would ignore us. I was kind of starting to get a little desperate,” he admits sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “So I talked to Fleur and got the contact information for a guy with a, um, special set of skills.”

That gets Y/N curious. “What kind of skills?”

“Hacking, mostly,” George mumbles. “And I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that whatever he was going to do was totally legal, and I figured the less you knew about that the better. If it was all going to go to shit we both couldn’t be in jail. Remi would be left to Fred and we all know how that would end up.”

Once it’s clear George has said everything he needs to Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a second to just let everything sink in. Obviously George made a few mistakes in the way he went about things, she can’t deny how full her heart feels at his gestures. And it’s clear he feels absolutely terrible about how things came about and he regrets not being honest with her.

“That was really the only reason why you didn’t tell me you were looking for Emily? Because it was supposed to be a surprise and you didn’t want me to know about your potentially illegal activities?”

“I swear,” George promises, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m so sorry I kept it from you and I hurt you. I didn’t mean for that to happen and if I could go back and do things differently I would.”

Y/N nods in understanding. She brushes her fingers over the adoption papers, tapping them twice. “And no matter what happens between us you’ll let me sign these papers and legally become Remi’s Mum?”

“Of course. You’re her Mama, and I know how much you love her and she loves you just the same. We can go to court to figure out custody or we can just do it between us, whatever you want. But I will never stop you from being a part of our daughter’s life.”

“Well, I think I’ve heard everything I need to.” Y/N pushes away from the table, biting her lip to keep from grinning at the dejected look on George’s face. She stands, but instead of heading towards the door like he thinks, Y/N rounds the table, plopping herself right down into his lap.

“You got your chance to speak,” she starts, putting a finger to George’s lips to keep him from saying anything. “And now it’s my turn. I’m sorry too, for acting the way I did that night. Emily showing up shocked me, and brought all of these insecurities and negative thoughts to the forefront of my mind and I went spiraling down this dark path. I knew that there was a rational explanation for Emily being on our porch and I didn’t give you a chance to explain things. For that I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” George responds once she lets him speak. “But just know I’m only saying that to appease you and not because I really think you owe me an apology.” Y/N finally breaks out into a full smile, and George feels the happiest he has all week.

“And you’ll never go behind my back ever again?”

“Never,” George answers honestly, his voice firm.

Before George has the opportunity to realize what’s happening Y/N leans in, pressing their lips together and pouring every emotion she’s felt over their separation into their kiss. George wraps his arms around her waist, absorbing every bit of hurt, pain, anger, longing and love she passes off to him. Even when their kiss breaks he keeps her pressed tightly to his chest, silently telling her that he plans on never letting go again.

“So,” Y/N starts, her voice teasing. “What’s that you said about buying a ring?”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #George Weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #harry potter #Harry Potter au #gw #golden

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jaegeraether · 11 months ago

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 35)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (33)

Masterlist (other parts here)

“Luce..” she cooed, happy to hear that deep, Northumberland voice.

“Little one,” she repeated and YFN could hear her smile. “How was your day?”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she took in her surroundings from her bed. “That’s…a dangerous question. I’ll tell you after but right now, can you please just tell me all about your past few days?” She rolled onto her side and held a pillow close to her body for comfort. “I want to hear everything.”

“Everything, hm? Okay. Well yesterday I woke up in bed with you and I almost stayed. I was so close to stealing your phone and texting Alexia asking for a day off. I know she would have given me one.”

YFN gave a happy hum, wishing she’d stayed but knowing it would have just been delaying the inevitable.

“After my flight I picked my car up from the airport and went home to feed Narla and change. She was a little confused, I think.”

YFN pouted. She didn’t like affecting anything with their relationship, she wanted it to be the opposite of a burden, though she knew it was only one night. She had also hoped that Narla would like her. She was nervous about that, but she’d always had a way with animals.

“Went to training, was teased by the girls...”

“Teased by the girls?”

“Yeah,” she laughed almost embarrassed. “Apparently I’ve been a pain the past week and a few of them said they were happy I was back.”

YFN remembered the not-so-Lucy, Lucy she’d seen in the FC Barca Instagram stories where she had been obviously upset and having to force a little smile for the cameras. Then she pictured Lucy, Lucy. Always a big grin, yelling and enjoying herself at training. She had been so busy the past few days that she hadn’t looked at any social media besides Lumos’.

“Alexia, Kiera and the girls are excited to meet you. Also I think you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve spoken to Ona.”

“Oh?” She asked, surprised at multiple things she’d just said. Alexia Putellas was excited to meet her? Kiera was too? How much did the girls at Barca know about her? Also, “Everything is okay with Ona?”

Lucy hesitated. “She…okay I didn’t speak to her about the relationship between her and I, I just sort of started talking about you a lot…”

YFN groaned as she rolled onto her back. “Luce, that’s not the best way to go about it.”

“I know,” she said, a little stressed. “I just don’t want to hurt her feelings…”

“Has she taken a step back?”

“Yes, but she’s still overly friendly and even let me pick her up for training this morning. I’m thinking maybe I don’t need to have the talk with her.”

“I trust you Luce, whatever you decide is best. Just…protect that relationship, please? You won’t forgive yourself if you go about it the wrong way.”

“I’ll keep an eye on it, little one. I promise. Oh, also security found the footage of my number one fan reaching over the boundary fence to grab my phone when I was meeting fans. She’s banned from the stadium.”

The audacity. She shivered. “But she can still follow you around and go to other stadiums?”

“Yes and no. Technically yes… but Barca have her on their blacklist and also the lawyers have officially drawn up the restraining orders. It was difficult because I need to protect you not just in the UK but in Spain also, and then if we ever travel…”

Her stomach did that weird thing when Lucy mentioned her need to protect her. Protective Lucy. “Thank you, Luce. Really. Thank you. I feel like such a weight has been lifted. Please tell me you also have restraining orders for you?”

“Yes, love, of course. Unfortunately, they’re both just for Kristie though, but I think that’s all we need.”

She nodded, even though she knew Lucy couldn’t see. “She is the instigator. Hopefully she leaves Spain now and leaves you alone…”

“I’d rather she stay in Spain than go anywhere near you,” she almost growled.

YFN hummed again. “And how did your day today go?”

“Today was great! I managed to catch up on sleep. I woke up and took Narla for a walk. The beach is close so we went down to the beach in the morning and had a swim and played in the sand for a bit.”

“She likes the beach?”

“Oh yeah, we’re both beach babies.” She said proudly. “She doesn’t go in the water much but she dipped her body in a bit today. She just loves to run around mainly and dig holes. She digs the holes and I play with the sand she digs out.”

She pictured their day at the beach and Lucy with her sandcastles. “Did you make your sandcastle?”

“Yeah, only a little one but. I only make the big ones when I want to impress you.”

YFN chuckled at Lucy’s attempt at flirting. Her voice changed when she flirted, it became cheeky and smiley. She didn’t realise until now that she could tell that difference over the phone. “I expect big sandcastles from you when I get there.”

“Yes, love. And we love going to the beach most mornings, if you’re up for it.”

“Of course I am! I miss the beaches back home. I’m sure the ones in Spain are much better than the UK ones.”

“What, you don’t like the rough sand, cold weather and brown water? How dare you.”

“Luuuuuuce. You’re killing me here.”

Lucy laughed. “I don’t mean to talk bad about the UK, I just want to give you some incentive to come here. It’s much better.”

“Luce, you’re all the incentive I need. I don’t care if you live in the middle on no where. I want to be where you are.”

There was a happy silence then. A silence where they both appreciated each other and were comforted knowing that the other was just on the other side of that phone. When Lucy spoke next, it was husky with a little emotion. “Also the sunsets are pretty here. They’re not entirely over the water, but I figured we can go down to the beach to watch them and it might remind you of home a little…”

YFN may have mentioned Western Australia and how they were lucky to have their sunsets over the water, though she’d only mentioned it once. Lucy really did listen to everything she had to say. “I can’t wait, Luce. I’m also really excited to meet your friends, and to meet Narla, of course. I hope she likes me.”

“She’s notoriously picky, but I have no doubt she’ll like you because…you’re you.”

YFN bit her lip.

Lucy continued. “Actually speaking of, I need to get her a new toy for when you come. She gets excited and chews a lot with people she likes…”

“Oh, can you wait until I get there, please? I want to help.”

“Okay, love.”

YFN grinned. She put sat up, leaning against the headboard and put her AirPods in to talk to Lucy while she took out her laptop and started doing sneaky things. She listened to Lucy talk about training, her knee, her friends, everything. She could listen to her talk forever.

“Jonatan is starting me for the game.” She said. “We’ve been doing some extra therapy for my knee. It feels good, it’s just the way that it is at this point.”

“Did the massage help?”

“Ah, you have no idea. That released so much tension before bed so it wasn’t as bad as it usually is in the morning. It was amazing, thanks love.”

“Anytime Luce, you know that. I’m happy to help. I’m happy to learn a little more about it if you can teach me, please?”

They’d gone over it before, Lucy showing her when they were a lot fresher into their relationship, however Lucy had a degree and knew an endless amount that she wanted to take on board. Partnerships were about equally giving and receiving to her and she wanted to help Lucy in any way she could. That was her way of loving.

“We can do that.” Lucy agreed. “I also have an ice bath which helps. Are you going to be brave and try it out?”

She could hear the challenge in her voice. “I’ll try it, though I don’t exactly have any muscles that need to be iced.”

Lucy scoffed. “Lies, your muscles may be smaller than mine, but you’re still a strong little Australian. I see those abs.”

“Attempts at abs,” she corrected. She was definitely not an athlete like Lucy, she just always loved to keep herself fit and watch her food intake.

“You’re perfect.”

“Luce, you’re too far away to be complimenting me like that.”

“Getting needy, love?”

“I’m always needy for you.”

“Mmn. Would you like me to help you tonight…?”

She looked at the time. 8pm. That meant it was already 9pm where Lucy was. “Maybe when I get home?”

“You’re not home?”

“I’m in Edinburgh?”

“What?! You listen to me talk about myself and didn’t mention you’re in Scotland?!”

“It’s…a long story.”

“I want to hear all of it, starting from when I saw you. Right now. Go.”

YFN spoke about her days. She spoke about visiting a few of the clubs in London and talking to the management and players. She spoke about her conversation with ‘Joe’ and her request to go to ‘her house’. She spoke about her conversations with Leah at Arsenal and then the random Leah and Jordan interaction at their house. She got a little distracted as she spoke about what Jordan had messaged her, though she had no further update as they’d agreed to talk in person with some take-away and perhaps some alcohol. That was the only time Lucy said anything, she asked if Jordan was okay. Other than that, she was dead silent as she listened to every YFN had to say. The flight, the drive, the estate, Joe, and ‘Joe’. It was impossible to tell Lucy’s thoughts across the phone, especially being as silent as she was, and YFN actually appreciated it. It allowed her to get everything out and describe Catherine from the way she walked to the way she so passionately spoke about and led Lumos.

“So now she’s headed back to London and I have a flight out of here in the morning…which is a good thing really because I need to have a meeting with our team about the new hires.”

She’d sent a very last minute meeting invitation out to the group after Catherine had left, and they’d all agreed to meet in Birmingham tomorrow to discuss the round and the new hires. Management would not have the London office ready until next week.

Lucy was still silent and she was worried they’d been cut off.

“Luce?”

“I’m still here, little one.”

“Are you…mad?”

“No. No, of course not. I’m overwhelmed. I’m proud, obviously, that out of everyone, she chose you. It’s just so hard to believe. I wish we had someone like her help us when I was still new to the sport. This is…fantastic. I’m so happy you told me…”

“You were the one exception she allowed me.”

“I’ll keep it safe, don't you worry. This is unbelievable. I don’t even think I can find words right now. Do you realise now how unique you are?”

“I…I think I’m pretty lucky. I came to this country for a holiday. Now I have the most attractive girlfriend to ever exist, a job where my boss is Catherine, and so many friends from different clubs and countries, I don’t even know where to begin. Oh, and a stalker.”

“I think you’ll find she’s my stalker.”

“I think you’ll find that she’s much more of a me problem than a you problem.”

“Your problems are my problems. She’s just jealous I’m obsessed with you. Also, you think I’m attractive, huh?”

“Argh, you’re relentless, Luce.”

“Sooooo…?”

“Sooooo you know I find you attractive.”

“I know, I just like hearing you say it.”

“You do own a mirror in Spain, right? You’ve seen yourself.”

“I do okay.” YFN could almost feel the shrug through the phone. “I like to think my personality makes up for it.”

“Well that is what I fell for. Your multiple personalities.”

“Multiple…?” She questioned.

“I’ve named them, but that’s just for me.”

“I’ll drag them out of you in Spain.”

“You do have this amazing ability to get anything you want from me.”

Lucy chuckled. “Now times that by a hundred and that’s how you make me feel.”

“We’re one of those disgusting love-sick couples you see in Hallmark movies, aren’t we?”

“No, we’re much more sophisticated than that. Hopeless millennial romantics. No bad dialogue and expected storylines here.”

“You make me really happy, Luce. Thank you again for coming to London. I know you sacrificed a lot of sleep and recovery for that. I…we really needed that.” She’d gotten too into her head. She knew she had, and Lucy had paid the price of that insecurity and she’d managed to also pull some of Lucy’s insecurities out.

“I should have done it sooner.” She admitted. “You and I? We just need to communicate. You can trust me with that part of you…the part you don’t show anyone. And I think I’m learning to trust you with mine also. It’s terrifying, but I’m never going to hide that from you. I know what I want.”

Happy silence again. Lucy was right, as always, but she wasn’t going to admit that. She didn’t need to. They sat in that happy silence for a while longer until YFN looked at the time.

“You should be sleeping, Luce. It’s getting late.”

“I wish you were here.”

“Soon. Cuddle Narla in the meantime and I’ll cuddle a pillow or Dory. I think she needs it anyways.”

Lucy gave a light chuckle. “Jords always needs a cuddle, regardless of if she’s sad.”

“I’m going to suggest she give you a call tomorrow night, okay? I think that’ll be nice.”

“I’d like that. After 6pm though, I have a boxing class after training.”

Ah, Lucy boxing. It should have been illegal.

“I want photos.”

“Oh, I’m planning on posting them online. I fully intend on teasing you until you get here.”

“That’s unfair,” she groaned.

“You in that backless dress was unfair. You in my hoodie at the football matches was unfair.”

She’d seen her in her hoodie? She’d been trying to find her at the games online? YFN was tempted to get on a flight tonight. “I think I need to step up my game…”

It was Lucy’s turn to groan now. “I can’t handle that.”

“Well we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Oh, also, I’m going to a bar with Alexia on Friday…”

“Why does it sound like you’re asking permission?”

“Maybe I am…”

YFN laughed. “You don’t need permission from me, love. But I really do appreciate you telling me instead of finding out other ways. You and Alexia are becoming quite close lately. That’s great!”

“Yeah, she’s been there for me over the past week. We’re getting a lot closer now. She’s also been having a rough time accepting her feelings for someone at the bar, so I’m going with her for support.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you realise that?”

They challenged and teased each other for a bit longer until they called it a night for the sake of sleep. They eventually said their goodnights and unwillingly ended their call with smiles on their faces. Four days.

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #engwnt #lionesses #woso x reader #lucy bronze imagine

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noacfapologyst · 8 months ago

Text

birthday wish - matty healy

(the birthday party; day one)

summary: matty, as his very best, has one of the best birthdays of his life and receives one of the warmest surprises he has ever had, with all the people he loves.

warnings: flufly stuff, sickness mentions. nothing more than this, is tender as well.

a/n: thank to @abiiors and @the1975attheirverybest for organize this incredible project! both are such an angels. the dates do not coincide in reality, so do not expect truthfulness in it, 'cause the tour continues in this universe and there are no haircuts, and also the english is not my first language.

wordcounter: 5,1k

Matty wants you to be with him at the exact time when the clock strikes midnight. It doesn't matter if you're an ocean away, just wait to hear you sing her happy birthday.

He knows that even if he wants you to, you can't come out the door. This shouldn't make him sad because it's something he's been facing for years.

You work for the UK's most influential finance company, and while the insistence on doing the work outside has been almost unbearable, Matty knows that you love being in your office or doing the work in the house where you both live together. God, that sounds good.

Officially he's a year older, and without wanting to touch sentimentality, he just feels tired when he rests his head on the white pillow in the hotel room. He doesn't look at his phone screen for a long time, just think about how you're going through the flu that kept you from coming with him to New York.

In the meantime, you have other plans that doesn't involve fever, soup, and phlegm.

You look at your phone screen, you know it's past 12 in New York, so Matty is oficially 35 years old.

It's four in the morning in England, and once again you confirm how much you hate such an abysmal difference in schedules. You could call him now and tell him you still have the flu, but he'd end up figuring out the trick.

Maybe when it's six o'clock in the morning you can greet him with more credibility.

For now, you finish arranging the house and the final touches before taking the suitcase as you sigh out of the house.

"Honeeeeeeeeey" Matty literally jumps into bed making them both jump. You rub your forehead and he gives you an innocent smile. It's not an argument at all, but he's gone dumb. "Come on, fly with me to York.

"Matty, I can't." You straighten up on the mattress, giving it room to rest its head on your trunk. "I would love to go, but it's impossible." You wrap your fingers around her hair and massage it into circles. You hear him purr like he's been waiting for him all day. "I have a lot of work, we have like fifty new clients or something like that. I can't apart myself from the company, i really sorry."

"I'm not saying you get apart, you still can work through your computer." He turns to see you with a pretty sad look in his features. "I don't want to be annoying, it's just…it will be my birthday. The first with you as my girlfriend."

"Hey, i can't even say how much i'm sorry, but i really do." You grab his right hand and squeeze his, on your way to kiss his head a desperate fit of coughing interrupts you. "Shit, I'm ill."

It doesn't sound so convincing, but if all goes well, an idea begins to form in your head that might consecrate you as bride of the year.

"But hey, babe, I'm going to reward you when you return. I promise." You see him unravel at your touch, watching him as he indulges in sleep. While he is awake closing his eyes, you whisper into his ear. "You're going to have an incredible birthday, Matty."

- - -

Even though spring has been running through London for over a month, the dawn suddenly turns cold. Not only because you got sick in the course of two days, (even if you did it on purpose and forced yourself to sneeze around the corners), but also because everything feels a little tense in your room. Matty's not mad, obviously he knows he can't get you out of the country in the middle of a flu outbreak let alone by force, but he's pretty sad about getting used to the idea of spending his birthday away from you. It's satirical to him, they've officially been together for nine months, but you've spent more birthdays near him than it looks. By chance or fate, they were always in the same bars or pubs where they celebrated their years of life.

What's ironic, too, is that they met after a financial argument. It was 2017, you were relatively new to the company and Dirty Hit needed a safe backing, betting on the company you still work for. At first there were no complaints, until a money leak was triggered and backing the company you basically went to the studio to talk to Jamie in pretty strong terms.

In the end, there were no dead to bury, everything worked out. What you did bury was your washing soap shirt, thanks to Matty literally spilled his coffee machine on you when you were about to leave. It wasn't a good day for anyone, your folders just fell off and picking them up you bumped into Matty, in a semi-sleeping state with coffee running over your skin and a cheap apology as he opened his eyes surprised enough. Then it just happened for some reason, they both found fun in the same places. It was too many years of seeing each other at nightclubs maybe four times a year, saying hello from afar and going on, until a year and a few months ago they needed an insurance upgrade, which gave you another visit to Dirty Hit, no spilled coffee this time.

Matty asked for your number, then he bought you a drink, and here they are, saying goodbye to each other.

"Hey listen, call my mom if you feel bad or if you need something. At least promise me this." Kiss your head as they both walk towards the front door, you wrapped in a blanket and him between bags and suitcases.

"I'll do." You reassure him with a broad smile. "Stay safe, love you."

"See you soon, love." You and him kiss quickly as he presses his thumb on your cheek. "Love you, too."

"Matty."

"¿Yes"

"You're forgetting something, dude." You unlock your chain with a small white stone hanging, to lock it around her neck later. "Now it's okay." You steal a hug and when they finally part, the taxi comes to the door. "Bye."

"Bye." He greets you with hishand and throws the first accessory he has at hand, his bracelet.

You hate to say goodbye to him when he goes to the airport, and even though you'll see him in two days, you still hate him. You're so used to waking up with him, having its scent all over the house, that when that bubble disappears, you hate what it's created at some point. It hasn't been five minutes and you miss him like you haven't seen him in months.

You squeeze his bracelet. It's their little tradition. Every time one goes on a journey, both exchange accessories in a way to show the other that they are still there even at a distance. You don't remember when it started, but you like the sentimentality of the issue.

Now, of course Matty's right: you'll call Denise. You already have, actually. She's aware of all the deception and she's the one who's most excited about it. He talked to Tom and Louis while you talked to Adam, because he's the least likely to reveal it to your boyfriend. It's not that you don't trust others, it's just that he's wiser for this.

- - -

You touch your head down because actually if you feel sick, maybe you've been too extreme, but you hope it's worth it. Denise calls on your portal with the car horn pulling you out of the trance, you get in the car and when you want to say something else you just fall asleep in the backseat.

Half an hour later, she wakes you up gently rocking you. She's so much like Matty you could cry, you love everything her family is and how you've been treated from the first day you walked through that door. Even if she's your mother-in-law, they get along incredibly well considering how fast they've connected.

"Are you sure about this?" She asks, handing over the car keys and lowering the suitcases from the trunk. "I mean, you look really tired."

"I know, I know. I spend the day thinking if i had everything, and thinking about the gift, and trying to organize the things with Adam, meanwhile i tried to not being colapsed by the numbers." The two laugh, she looks at you with a more relaxed expression and just lets her walls fall down.

"Matty is so lucky to have you." She murmurs with bright eyes and genuine happiness. "I don't know if I've ever met someone capable of getting sick just for surpise his boyfriend in his birthday…on the other side of the world." You think she's about to get emocional when her eyes start stinging, and she notices it. "I get a bit emotional but you know, my son is growing up next to someone who truly loves him, and as a mother you don't know how important it is to know that."

Well, now you'll cry.

"Oh god, I love you Denise." You drop your bags and embrace her with the greatest affection you've ever had. "I'll might cry."

She laughs tenderly. "Keep the tears for the show, darling."

----

The belief that it would be a seven-hour flight (plus the check-in hours, obviously) that would be somewhat exhausting and that it would take time to pass becomes part lie and part truth. You actually have a lot of fun with Denise telling you anecdotes of her life in the span of waiting time to board, you can't lie, but then on the plane you start to get bored after a few hours: you've seen a movie, you've slept, you've saturated your Spotify and you only think about how Matty will be. You feel guilty about the birthday message because you know he'll be worried thinking that something is up, but later you'll ask for forgiveness.

Happy birthdayy Matty. I love you so much, i hope you ́ll always be happy.

This is too short, but i feel totally sick. I'll send you a large text later.

Matty tosses and turns in bed heavily after waking up with that message as his first course. He sighs as he goes to the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror running a hand through his hair. It feels terrible.

Well, you haven't forgotten his birthday, but he feels that you have. Maybe it's not that.

He knows you don't like him smoking too much, but you're not here and it's the only thing keeping him sane so he doesn't yell at you if he's done something wrong. He opens the window and collapses on the balcony floor, a cigarette between his lips. He exhales, he can't believe he's spending the time like that on his birthday.

He feels like he has a dagger stuck somewhere in his body, he feels tense and knows he's not in the bliss mode that someone should have on their birthday. But God, he hates to blame himself and blame you for things.

You've been weird for days, and yes, maybe you're sick, but in the months you´ve been with him you've never been this weird. Overthinking things isn't something he likes or does too much, but now he's debating whether something has happened and you don't want to tell him. He exhales again and relapses into the state of his cuticles, but as a cumpulsive reflex he bites them. Has he done something wrong? Has he crossed any limits? Did you get angry about something he didn't do? Did he forgot your birthday? No, he hasn't forgotten that.

Trata de no permitirse pensar en la pregunta más dolorosa para él: ¿Hay alguien más? ¿Estás cansado de él y de su vida de poca estabilidad? Bueno, en cualquier caso te merecerías algo mejor.

Adam knocks on the door as an answer to problems. He knows he has to take care of him until you make your appearance, but everyone is aware that he may not be in his best mood.

"Hey, birthday boy, how did you wake up?" When Matty opens the door, he hugs him and Adam knows his best friend needs him. "Matty, tell me."

"It's just…No, it's a silly thing." He regrets it fluttering his eyes, but collapses on the bed tiredly. "I'm tired, that's all."

"No, it's not. Something is affecting you, so definitely there is something more than being tired. You dońt have to fake it with me, you know." Adam knows the reason why he is like this, and although he wants to tell him that she's really on her way, he can't.

"It's her, Adam. She ́s been in a distant mode for days, acting strange." He shrugs, Adam sits on the other end of the mattress, sinking it. "Her greeting was a bit cold, or too generic. It's not typycal for her.

Adam feels really bad lying to his friend, he feels like a traitor, and he really struggles to find the right words. "Didn't you tell me she was sick?" He asks, and Matty sighs, nodding. "Should be this."

"yes, but.."

"Listen to me, really." Adam cuts him off and thinks about how much he can take this like this, he can't allow his partner to collapse before the show, much less the surprise. "She loves you, i d on't know the reason for his behavior and I would love to know so I can tell you, but unfortunately I don't know." Guilty, liar. "Despite that, you just turned 35, it's too early for the midlife crisis for a congratulation. The day is not over yet

Matty slurps as he swallows without the strength to continue the conversation, not in this tone at least. He doesn't have any argument to play in his favor and that makes him a little angry.

"You have a birthday show tonight, it will be nice."

- - -

Madison Square Garden will never cease to amaze you and seem practically huge. You do not manage to make the connection between the measures of the venue, it seems much bigger than it is. You have entered more than once, both as a spectator of shows or as you are now, as an accompanist of the band that presents on the day, and still it leaves you breathless how massive it is. Not in your best dreams would you imagine having the chance to tour it.

But, what makes you more sensitive is to hear so many people divided into the branches and sections of the seats and the standing field cheering, shouting and even crying with a euphoric amount of adrenaline in the body by the celestial and pink lights that illuminate the stage, decorated in its scenography representing a house with all the rooms. It's still hard for you to believe that you're dating the lead singer of a band that has mobilized so many people around the world for years. They have come to see the four of them, they have come to hear what is the story they have to tell and to show them their affection and loyalty as they identify themselves in tears in the four chords of their best songs.

In a way you think that's everything a singer expects, and that by the same token, it's the most sincere reason for the fans in front of Matty's birthday. Because even though you don't spend too much time on the floor, you manage to see posters related to her birthday.

The whole Healy family, followed by you, take refuge in George and Adam's dressing rooms, because even if you came out of a cake in Matty's dressing room when the delivery changes, you'd lose the idea you planned. Now, you just hope Matty doesn't find it weird enough that they switched The Birthday Party to Act 3, and Guys is almost after. I wouldn't have to do that, in fact, since it's a pretty emotional and pretty setlist to play on your birthday.

When Matty's nightmare act ends and he descends from the second stage you try to make as little noise as possible next to his dressing room, mainly because you're going to scare him. The one you're scaring is George, but he's covering it up by saying there was a spider in his dressing room. Then with a thumb sign him shows that everything is ready for the next step. When the act of Still at their very best (the last of the show) begins with If you ́re too shy, you get ready, two songs later you have to get the whole audience to see you, but not Matty.

Then, It ́s not living reaches the middle with a consecrated closure between the drums and the guitar. Cheers fill the place. The action then begins when all the screens change focus and signs appear saying that, in front of the people you will see now, keep quiet because it is a surprise for both Matty and the fans. There are confused looks, intertwined, nobody understands anything but they keep singing so as not to show that the screens have changed again.

The crowd wants to go crazy, and some screams escape when it's you who's seen go behind the scenes. For the sake of greater care, you go behind George's drums and ask everyone with your fingers to be silent on the subject. You sit behind the biggest drum and you see it over your head.

There he is, dressed up in his black pants, his white shirt and previously the suit jacket with the pants. His tie's almost untied, and it makes you laugh, you don't think he knows he tied it wrong. The curls fall in front of him out of control due to tiredness and sweat, but you think he's never looked better in years.

"Thanks for coming to see the greatest band in the world, the 1975!" The sticks resonate on the drum, the play of grey lights makes everything a little psychedelic. The crowd bursts into cheers without differentiating the why. "And today it's my birthday, so thank you for coming here. I love you guys."

There's a mixture of exasperated emotions all over the compound. Even you have glassy eyes to see him smile in such a pure way, his place has always been and always will be the stage in front of the fans, when he is freer than ever and where he feels comfortable. This particular show is not just important because of this event, but because in fact, it's the end of the tour. It's emotionally sad, the melancholy is reciprocal in the stadium because nobody knows when there will be a new tour of them.

"Yeah, I know, this is sad. It ́s ironic that my birthday will be the last show of the tour." He grins and laughs showing his teeth to the audience. "But, thanks for being here, is my biggest gift."

So, Matty freaks out when he hears a noise behind him.

"And it's not over yet, friend of mine." Absolutely everyone is surprised to hear George through the microphone resonating in the stadium, Matty doesn't understand what's going on either. "Ladies and gentleman, please everybody look at the screen."

What happens next is the best and the worst that Matty has had in front of him, cataloging it as the worst because when pictures of him appear when he was little with his mother and father, playing guitar or just being a kid, it makes him wiggle and feel like he could really die right there from the excitement. Without looking away, dazzled and uncertain but motivated to keep seeing him, he sits on the edge of the stage.

The atmosphere is automatically warm, but even the noise does not break it. The screen now changes, and begins with a greeting from George, pointing to a picture of when they were 13, how they have grown up so far and how you can't imagine a life without him, then closes Charly telling how much she enjoys talking to him, and how much fun he is in any situation. Then comes Adam, along with Carly, telling how he is the youngest of the group, but how important he is for both of them in their lives. Finally there is Ross, who talks about how fortunate he is to have him as a friend, how proud he is of everything he has accomplished and how much he appreciates his friendship.

Screen in black. Matty takes care of the tears because he suspects it doesn't end there, but his eyes turn to candy, all his factions calm down and he refrains from leaping into the arms of his friends.

You can't tell how many, but suddenly fans appear in the video, talking about how they've saved their lives through the band, the refuge it's for them and how much the band has done in terms of connecting them with their closest friends, and giving them a reason to keep fighting. Everyone laughs when they hear the reactions of the fans appearing in the video, realizing it.

Now yes, everything seems to indicate that it's over. Matty tries to stand up, but something stops him.

Her mother. On the screen.

Satirically, her greeting begins by asking if she thought they had forgotten about her, but without giving any room to react, Louis and Tom appear on the screen, their entire family in one place.

Really, Matty feels like the luckiest person in the world to have so much affection around him, he doesn't know if he deserves it, but he accepts it and feels like the feeling of familiarity and brotherhood envelops his body as his brother and his parents talk about how he's changed everyone's lives, the support he's been in his brother's life, and how the little boy who played the guitar off-tune at four o'clock in the afternoon has become a man made and upright, able to love and defend his people, with a exemplary talent.

Matty blinks, doesn't know how to go on now. He simply knows that he cannot ask for anything else for his life, he is loved by those he loves, and is reciprocated.

The screen lights up for the last time. You and Mayhem.

You look the at George, who cries just like you. He notices your gaze but responds only with a quick smile.

"Hey, honey, this will be short because I hope you know how happy I am to have you in my life." Matty stops controlling the tears, bathes in them, his shirt is full of water right now. So he remembers your message today, and he knows that you were behind all this, no one else would have done it this way otherwise. He sees his dog move his front legs and really misses him: "Happy birthday, I love you more than my words can prove. Thank you for being the most amazing, sweetest human being I've ever met. You're an angel and I love to agree with you." The greeting ends when you send a kiss to the camera, followed by Mayhem's osico in the foreground with a heart, with an M drawn.

The legend of The End stands on top. Everyone has cried, the makeup has gone off but this is the most intimate thing that everyone has experienced today. Everybody's grateful for coming to celebrate Matty.

"Could you please close your eyes?" Adam asks, and Matty is not the one who could say no.

Matty continues sitting, not moving. He can't process everything his head is telling him miles per second. He knows that he can't speak well enough after crying and will only say silly phrases, But it has to. Ross comes to his rescue and has a hand to lift him up. They hug with Matty crying on his shoulder while continuing to repeat that she loves him. Ross pats him on the back and points to Adam on the microphone.

He smells something as smoke, and he's right. Behind the scenes of the three entrances appear his mother, his father and Louis beside him with a rectangular cake with porcelain figures of the little house, and the four figures of the band, with a 35 as a candle.

Ross lets Matty go, and when the distance is unbearable, you're the one who runs to grab his hands when everyone screams to open his eyes. He opens them and finds you embraced to his body more tightly than ever. By inertia, he tightens the grip on your waist without ceasing to hug you. Now neither of us knows who to blame for the water running down the Briton's white shirt.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." You whisper incessantly, as he stabilizes in front of you, trying to get out of the surprise and accepting that you're actually in front of him, it's not a dream, he looks at the cake and cries again. He watches the audience feeling their heart pouring out into their hands. "Happy everything, my love."

He pulls you away from the grip when the birthday song rings out and has the cake in front of him without realizing it, but holds your hand in his fist. He coins it, and he protects it inside him. His smile is sadly short, but he has never had a greater look of genuine love on him than now. His wet eyelids, his face full of dry tears and his eyes glowing like never before. All thanks to you. He looks back at the cake and makes a face of utter surprise when he sees his figure made of porcelain sitting on the piano.

"Hey, that's me!" He's chirping like he's a kid who just ate a paddle he's seen in the store. Its essence is discovered there, that immeasurable happiness that creeps through all present.

He couldn't even think about how much he loves you because everything happens too fast, but he knows that after this he could never leave you. He doesn't know it yet, but this is the moment when Matty would close everything else. After this he would decide that you would be the woman of his life, that he would marry you and that they would have a family. You just kind of signed a sentence saying that he would never let anything happen to you and that if he had to lay down his life for you, he would.

George, Adam and Ross approach Matty as well, along with Polly, John and the rest of the band, all standing in a semicircle in front of the stage. The fire lights up Matty's face who has refused to block the touch of you two. You literally have to whisper his name in his face with a silly smile so he'll let you go and be the only one in the middle of the round.

The flashes of the phones illuminate the scene, there is the same chorus symphony composed of dozens of voices that work at the same time without prior coordination. No, it's not a movie and it's not a dream that someone's going to wake up from, it's really happening.

The fire dissipates, again the sound of clashing palms comforts the place. Denise leaves the cake on the piano and hurls herself at her son. She loves him so much, and is so happy that he can be really happy being who he is. The sequence is quite fast, his family hugs him, then the four hug and the difference in height is noticeable between the four males. Then goes Polly, Jhon and everyone else who's there. The show is delayed for the same reason, but nobody really cares about sacrificing a song to be part of this moment.

He opens his arms towards you and makes you fly through the air for a second before giving you his best Chesire Cat smile. Seize the moment to steal a quick kiss leaving behind the expanse of euphoria that surrounds them. For Matty there really is nothing else right now than him and you on the whole ethereal plane he's met at the age of 35. Fans disappear, the band and their parents too, as long as it merges into you in touch can only feel how they function the same way, being really a single soul trapped between two bodies. God, he's lovesick of the love he has for you, and he could throw it up right now, but surely all he could do is throw up his heart.

The contact ends, and finally he approaches the microphone.

"I really have the greatest persons and the greatest fans in the world. I ́m incredibly glad about it." He runs his hand through his hair and laughs, shedding his last tears. "Saying thanks it wouln ́t be enough, and I could never finish thanking you for all this, but i love each and every one of you, honestly."

Matty grabs his acoustic guitar almost the second he says that. The chords of The birthday party are heard. Everything is extremely special about this song and it is something narrow and deep, there is a truth to count on the song at this moment so charged with sentimentality.

Matty has spent years of his lost life without having a reason to keep him going, floating around while surviving, or trying to. He has come and gone as far as anyone could imagine, has suffered perhaps too much to expose his vulnerability. Indeed, he felt lost in hell during the most unbearably difficult years of his life. He's driven so many people away by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows.

He has alienated so many people by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows that although he may be late for some, he has enough with him. All your friends are here, in the same scene, no matter what that means.

The following of Guys in a much calmer tone makes everyone end up crying, their most personal song as a band. Matty feels the same as before, his friends have been the best thing that's ever happened to him, and they've saved his life thousands and thousands of times. He could not get used to the idea of lose them, because he would crumble without them in his life.

Just like he would do without you.

In the end, Matty makes fun of himself for being so bitter all day. He really had the best birthday of his entire life.

in my head this is a tender idea of how much I would give way to see matty happy, so I hope that was achieved. also, happy birthday weekend matty you are the best.

let me know what you think, also let me know if you want to be on my tag list <3

#matty healy #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #1975 band #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #matty35 #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x oc #birthday matty #i might cry

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