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#but if she did - because I feel like I always will- I’m glad she chose to get them anyway
anqelically · 2 months
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જ⁀➴ FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME
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SUMMARY. under a sky filled with stars, you and giyuu tomioka make your feelings clear for each other
WARNINGS. 1.4k words, giyuu x shinazugawa!reader, fluff
a diary entry of the “mono no aware” series !
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“it’s not like you to want to meet this late.”
“apologies, were you asleep?”
“i was actually tossing and turning in bed, so i’m glad you asked to meet. was there something you wanted to talk about?”
giyuu tomioka sighed at your question. yes, there was something gnawing at his mind. though, the man didn’t want to confess that the very thing causing him worry was you, who only seemed concerned for his well-being.
dreams are rare for giyuu, and that’s because when his mind conjures something in his sleep, it isn't always so happy. you appeared in his sleep this time, and that lovely dream of his quickly turned into a nightmare.
he remembered the ghostly feeling of holding your hand, and the next, you trying to bite his face off. you turned into a demon in his dream, and it was when he imagined himself taking his sword and decapitating your head that it turned into a nightmare.
a gust of wind suddenly blew, causing you to hug your figure. you were rubbing your arms when giyuu let out another breath and walked closer to you. without saying anything, he threw his haori over your shoulders. he stood less than an arm’s length away from you when the shine in your eyes caught his attention. he shifted his weight onto one foot.
“don’t die, y/n.”
you stared at him strangely. although giyuu’s words were quite straightforward, they only left you confused. did he send his crow all the way to you as a warning, and then come to your estate himself just to say those three words? if so, you wondered what prompted him to say something that could’ve waited until the next morning.
“is there something i should know?” you asked, itching for an answer. “are you… are you actually leaving the corps, giyuu-kun?”
ever since his participation in the final selection, giyuu never thought that he was worthy of being a demon slayer. you remembered the day he told you about his late friend sabito, whom he trained with until the final selection. it wasn’t too long ago, maybe a month since he told you. the young boy had saved plenty of the other slayers and not a single life was taken, except for his. the only one to die then was sabito.
even as one of the highest-ranking demon slayers, giyuu thought that sabito would’ve been a much better water hashira than him. if only he had lived, then maybe the man who stood before you would’ve been him and not the black-haired boy.
giyuu was plagued with survivor’s guilt, and you couldn’t help but relate. the thought of your younger siblings dying before you did was always a punch to your gut. giyuu didn’t know you felt the same as he did until then, and as sad as it was, it felt like it only brought the two of you closer.
“i really hope you rethink your decision,” you continued after his face grew slightly confused. “you’ve worked hard to become as strong as you are, and you leaving would be a huge loss to the corps.”
“do you really think that?”
“of course,” you nodded, sure. your ears grew warm as you turned your gaze to the stars, “i also know that if you left, i’d miss you every day. it won’t be the same without you.”
his heart skipped a beat at your reply. although you thought his words were a farewell, he only meant it as a warning. giyuu cared about you much more than he let on, and seeing you hurt in such a way, even if it was all just a nightmare, reminded him of such.
“i’d miss you too,” he admitted. “that’s why… i won’t leave the corps, not unless you come with me.”
your eyes widened. what did leaving the corps have to do with you? you thought about it for a moment before you spoke again, “why me?”
“when you’re by my side, things feel easier.”
“that’s- giyuu-kun, do you perhaps-“
“giyuu,” he corrected you. “please call me giyuu.”
you took his hand, “giyuu, please correct me if i’m mistaken, but do you… have feelings for me? if i’m reading into things wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.”
ah, you actually hit the nail right on the head. although you didn’t notice it, the tips of giyuu’s ears turned pink as he held your fingers with your own. he didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to be an expert in romance to know what he meant. your heart raced as you inched closer to him.
giyuu’s actions spoke louder than words. the first time you met him on the way to your first hashira meeting, you realized that fact quickly. you were navigating your way to the ubuyashiki estate when you became lost. giyuu had been walking some distance behind you for a few minutes when you stopped in your tracks.
‘which way should i go?’ you thought.
as you tried to decide which way to go, giyuu passed you. he didn’t spare you a glance as he continued ahead. since you noticed that his uniform had gold buttons like your own, you knew that he was also a hashira and that he was your best hope of finding the estate.
you followed giyuu, though you made sure to distance yourself to not make it obvious. but at every turn, after you ran to catch up and not lose him, he waited for you. after you turned the corner he had, the black-haired boy trudged ahead towards the next turn he’d wait for you at.
part of you wanted to believe it was just a coincidence that he happened to make a turn within your sight, but when you arrived at the meeting you quickly realized he was doing that on purpose.
“the master has been waiting,” gyomei, who was kneeling, commented when you and giyuu arrived. “it is unusual for you to be this late, tomioka.”
you then put the pieces together as you got down on one knee as well. you didn’t just happen to see him make every turn, giyuu had been waiting for you to follow. you felt yourself grow warm in embarrassment when you realized that he knew you were lost but pretended he didn’t.
it was difficult to tell because giyuu was no talker, but he was kind. since he helped you find your way, you felt obligated to thank him, and that was part of the reason why you started to talk to him in the first place, other than the fact you were curious about him and it would only be best to get along with someone you’d fight alongside.
it began with small talk when you passed each other, but quickly grew into longer conversations that took place even outside of work. all the time you began to spend with him developed your current feelings. your curiosity about the black-haired boy grew into genuine affection over the past 2 years, and you had completely fallen for him. and now, underneath the moon’s light, you realized he felt the same.
everything felt right when you moved your lips closer to his and connected them. giyuu cupped your cheek with his left hand and held your waist with his right before he leaned into you. your lips moved against each other with a nearly intoxicating hunger that would’ve consumed you whole if you didn’t pull away.
“giyuu,” you breathlessly whispered.
he pressed his forehead against yours and hummed, finally confessing, “i want to be yours, y/n. and if you allow me, i’d want for you to only be mine.”
his blue eyes met yours fiercely, and you didn’t bother resisting. you gave in immediately, nodding happily before pulling him in for another kiss. you threw your arms over his shoulders as he snaked his own arms around your waist, his haori falling to the ground without either of you noticing.
“this nearly feels like a dream,” you murmured.
“i hope not,” a faint smile adorned his lips. “when i dream of something, it doesn’t last very long. i don’t want this,” he intertwined his fingers with yours, “to end.”
“well then, we best not let it.” you fought back your own smile as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, “i don’t want this to end either. so, if you allow me, i’d love to be yours.”
giyuu’s lips then curled further as he stared at you in adoration, “yeah, i like the sound of that.”
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this entry’s taisho secret— ever since you and giyuu have gotten together, whenever he misses you and is unable to talk or speak to you for some reason, such as being on a mission, he takes a look at the stars and remembers your shared confession. the thought warms his heart and helps him get through the time he spends missing you
signed on 07/20/2024 | other diary entries
• have any questions? feel free to write a letter to my inbox !
@aureatchi @piichuu @queenof3ferrets @todorokies @staygoldsquatchling02 @luffy0s @egoistars @soleelia @kazunish @ravencrow1995 @koraarchives
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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Writers who use imitative harmony + the movement of their language to evoke meaning are so great to re-read once you’ve learnt this language, if you’ve read them in translation before, it feels like the best reward. I’m reading Annie Proulx in the original for the first time, and so much of her writing style was just not salvageable by French translators (< my condolences), because she intertwines sound with meaning so often, at least in Close Range, and French just doesn’t sound the same! so by translating the meaning you’ll sacrifice a lot of the style... It reminds me of a haunted house book in French that also made me think “haha RIP translators” because it made great use of sound—a lot of “u / eu / ou” to create a sort of sinister howling effect in some sentences, and one sentence about a closed door used “i” and “rr” sounds to give an ominous “creaking open” sensation without actually opening the door in the text...
This kind of thing always makes me reflect despairingly on how many authors I’ll never get to appreciate fully as I can’t read them in the original, but I’m glad to re-discover Annie Proulx at any rate! I mean compare the sound of a phrase like “a hundred dirt road shortcuts” to the French “des centaines de raccourcis, des routes de terre”... First of all the English phrase sounds clippety-cloppy, it sounds like hooves on a dirt road in a way that’s very hard to preserve in a language without syllable stress, but also the French language demands that you turn it into ‘a hundred of shortcurts of roads of dirt’, so it’s best to dilute it into two phrases, and you just lose the clippedness. It sounds less tight, more leisurely.
Same for the phrase “the tawny plain still grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts” vs. “la plaine fauve encore marquée des ornières laissées par les chariots des pèlerins.” That’s a 54% expansion ratio and once again you turn the tight clippedness of ‘grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts’ into ‘grooved with the ruts left by the wagons of the pilgrims.’ You just can’t avoid it, French words have to hold hands in a long procession rather than being stacked like pancakes on top of one another. And sometimes it makes for lovely stylistic effects too (*), but it doesn’t fit the style of a text like this one, which uses rhythm and sound in a very un-French way—rhythmicality in French tends to rely on long flowy phrasings rather than the potholed ruggedness this story demands. (I saw a NY Times article describe it as Annie Proulx “mining the ore of language out of a gritty Wyoming rockscape”)
The rhythm of this whole bit is so neat, you can snap your fingers along with it: “hard orange dawn, the world smoking, snaking dust devils on bare dirt, heat boiling out of the sun until the paint on the truck hood curled, ragged webs of dry rain that never hit the ground, through small-town traffic and stock on the road, band of horses in morning fog...”
The French version is not finger-snapping material but you can tell the translator did her very best to preserve the author’s intention by creating interesting rhythms in French as well. For “hard orange dawn” she could have kept close to the original with, say, “la dureté orange de l’aube” but instead she chose to turn ‘hard’ into a four-syllable adjective (éblouissante / blinding) to end up with a noticeable rhythm—“les aubes orange, éblouissantes,” one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four (and she made ‘dawn’ plural for the same reason.) She wasn’t able to preserve the g/r alliteration of “GRooved with pilGRim waGon Ruts” (although her translated phrase also has a lot of R’s) but she did preserve the ‘sss’ alliteration of “Smoking Snaking duSt” (“pouSSière Serpentant Sur le Sol”). Even with languages as close as French and English, for every stylistic effect you can save you have to sacrifice a few, or replace them with opposite effects which align better with your language’s notions of literary style (like with the orange dawn bit, doubling the length of a tight phrase so it can sound rhythmical).
You can tell all throughout the book that a lot of thought and care went into respecting Annie Proulx’s writing choices and you still end up with sentences that sound and move so differently. You get to see the limit of translation when authors fully lean on their language’s syntax and melody to help convey meaning, like poets do!
(*) Re: English stacking words and French linking them—this reminds me of an essay I read by an English translator of Proust who despaired of this difference in the opposite direction—saying some long, descriptive phrases in Proust with articles & prepositions linking words, and commas linking phrases with regularity, read like telling the beads of a rosary. And the sensation (or a lot of it) had to be sacrificed because English just does not use as many linking words as French, information is conveyed in a more economical way, so a lot of these sentences with a hypnotic rhythm like “the A, of the B, of the C, whereby the D, of the E, on an F” were often not achievable with English syntax or created redundancy (e.g. having to use ‘that’ or ‘which’ 5 times when French used different tool words). But he said he did try to form sentences that had this continuity, and meditative quality.
I don’t have a conclusion to this post other than to say something precious will be lost if human translation is replaced by AI translation, because literary translation involves creativity and ambiguity and aesthetic considerations and a dimension of instinctual feeling for your own language and the original style, and I don’t think any amount of data and processing power and artificial neural networks will yield the flavour of literary quality that emerges from human sensibility and care, from someone reading a sentence and thinking “this feels like hooves clippety-clopping down a dirt road” or “this feels like rolling the beads of a rosary” and starting from there...
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diapydemon · 3 months
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“Hi sweetie,” she waved from the library steps, “I’m so glad you could make it to our little study date.”
“W-well,” I blushed, flustered at her flirtatious wording, “I wouldn’t miss it.”
It was true; I would never ever miss this. I’m still surprised that the prettiest girl in my biology class asked me to study with her.
Firstly, I was surprised because we hadn’t really talked outside of a few passing words, and I knew she was out of my league, so I mostly tried to mind my own business.
Secondly, I was surprised because I knew she didn’t need my help studying. While I was no academic slouch, she would usually score insanely high on the quizzes and tests. There were only a handful of times I scored higher than her throughout the semester. I guess she took the upcoming final seriously.
“So you ready to lock in and hit the books?” She offered a gentle smile that made me blush at its tenderness.
“Mhmmm,” is all I could squeak out.
“I know we’re just going to ace this final together, sweetie!”
Her energy was infectious, and I couldn’t help but grin —even through the sweetly condescending pet names that I —honestly— didn’t mind at all.
We didn’t need to walk far to find a secluded spot in the library; despite it being finals season, our ‘date’ was happening late enough into the night that the library was more or less abandoned.
As she sat down at a table of her choosing, I grunted as I heaved my heavy backpack off of my shoulders.
“That must be one heavy bag,” she raised her eyebrow in a gently inquisitive manner, “What’s in it? Must be full of textbooks… or maybe something else…?”
She offered the last question as if trying to imply something. I blushed, knowing full well what was actually in my backpack, but I chose to ignore the implication. There was no way she knew; no need to be nervous.
“Yep,” I chuckled nervously, “So many textbooks.”
“Uh-huh… right,” the corners of her lips tucked into a barely perceptible frown, “Well, let’s get started with studying then.”
I did have textbooks in my bag, but they weren’t the only items in my bag. I also had a couple spare diaper changes.
I liked to wear diapers for as long as I remembered. There was something about them that just drove me crazy: the security, the vulnerability, the… cuteness. It all just made me feel deliciously small and little.
When I moved away to college and eventually got my own room, I decided to start wearing diapers full time. After all, why not — they made me happy, and I was living alone now anyway.
That’s all well and good, but you’re probably wondering why I would risk compromising hanging out with the hottest girl in my biology class by wearing on this date? Well… while I wouldn’t say I’m not potty trained anymore, I definitely am not totally 100% as potty trained as I used to be before I started wearing diapers 24/7.
So I chose to go the better safe than sorry route and continue wearing diapers for this study session.
I was ripped from my nervous inner dialogue by a seemingly innocuous question about the cell cycle.
I’d be lying if I said I was really focused on studying after that. My thoughts were consumed by the gorgeous girl in front of me; she was flirtatious yet condescending, and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. Not that I wasn’t enjoying her company.
I was once again distracted from my thoughts when I heard her pencil gently drop to the table.
I looked up from my own notes to meet her eyes. She was sniffing the air curiously, as if trying to place a certain smell that had no business among the well curated library.
I blushed. I hadn’t had an accident… had I?? I squished my thighs together and felt clearly soggy padding between them. I guess I hadn’t noticed while being distracted by studying and flirting.
I just needed to calm down. If I just focused and acted like nothing was wrong, she wouldn’t—
“Do you need a change, sweetie?”
My whole world shattered with that simple question, asked as if it was as innocent as asking to borrow a pen.
“Uhh-uhh,” I stammered, “I d-don’t know what you’re—“
“Sweetie,” she giggled, “I know you’re in diapers. The bulk is obvious if you know what to look for. I also know that your bag isn’t bulging at the seams from just textbooks; I imagine you have a few spare diapers in there. I also know that it smells just a little bit like pee, and the culprit is sitting right across from me. Isn’t that right mister?”
Tears started to well in my eyes. I didn’t expect this, and I honestly wasn’t prepared for it. Why would she want to hang out with me if she knew?
“I uhmm— why??”
“Hey, hey… save those alligator tears, okay?”
She gave me the same tender smile she’d worn all night that somehow seemed to portray generous understanding and vigorous curiosity simultaneously.
“I knew you were in diapers before I asked you out on this date,” she reached across the table to wipe a tear from my cheek, “I really don’t mind —in fact, it’s the whole reason I asked you out.”
“R-really?” I asked between tears.
“Yep,” she assured, “I think littles like yourself are just so cute, and I’ve been dying to find a little of my own to care for.”
“O-oh,” I blinked, astonished at the scenario unfolding before me.
“Plus, I think you’re pretty cute…” she blushed.
“T-thanks.”
“So how about I change your diaper, and we get back to studying. Then, if you like, we can get coffee —or hot chocolate for you I guess— sometime after this? What do you say?”
“O-okay.”
Because the library was so deserted, she asserted that it would be fine to change my diaper right on the table. She gently unzipped my shorts and pulled them around one ankle.
“Ahhhww sweetie,” her eyes softened, “these turtle diapers are just adorable! Do you like turtles?”
“Y-yes mommy…”
The title felt strange on my tongue; not unpleasant, and she seemed to beam down at me for using it.
“Can you hold your shirt up for mommy?”
I nodded before holding it with my mouth.
“You’re so cute,” Mommy giggled, “I just know we’re going to have a great time together!”
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As Always, all characters depicted are 18+
Credit to @ah-bagels for the image
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softestqueeen · 6 months
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slipping and gliding pt. 2
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pairing:  natasha romanoff x afab!reader
summary: After what happened in the showers, you and Nat make a quick exit to move your fooling around to somewhere else…
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! smut, car sex, cunnilingus, inexperienced reader, shy reader, slight dom!nat, fingering
wordcount: 1208 words
a/n: i’m sorry it took so long, but i’m finally back with part 2! only took me like 100 years to write. I’m sorry I’ve been so inactive lately, but new things are in progress… Enjoy <3
part 1
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The two of you went back to your stuff and said quick goodbyes to everyone. Of course everyone wanted to persuade you to stay, but you were able to talk yourself out of it, claiming that you didn’t feel well, and that Nat would take you home.
But she wouldn’t take you home. Yet.
The two of you got into Nat’s care before driving off. The sun stood high as the two of you speeded down the highway.
You thought that Nat was gonna take you home and then maybe take you again on the bed. But when you noticed that she missed the exit that actually led to the tower, you frowned.
“Where are we going Nat?”, you questioned her, unsure about what to think of this.
“Patience love, you’ll see.”, she told you while putting her unoccupied hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. At the new pet name, you could feel a blush creeping up your neck to your cheeks and the short skirt you wore allowed Nat to directly touch your skin.
You decided to not question it anymore and just wait and see where you would end up.
After a few minutes, it turned out that Nat brought you to a… deserted parking lot? Very romantic. It didn’t seem scary, because on one side it was still light out and on the other you had Nat, who would never let anything happen to you.
Nat parked in the middle of the concrete area, locked the doors, and stopped the engine. She took the key out of the ignition, throwing it lazily into the centre console.
With every passing moment you could feel your arousal building, the anticipation of what’s to come pure torture.
Nat’s car was quite spacious now that you took a look at your surroundings. You could comfortably stretch out your legs and the seat could almost fit you two times.
The redhead leaned forward to your seat and with a skilful motion leaned back your seat, so you were almost laying down now. The sudden change in position mad a giggle escape your lips. It quieted down though, once Nat climbed on top of you, now covering your body with hers.
She sent you a little smile before leaning down and connecting her lips with yours after what felt like ages, though your little shower innuendo had not even been an hour ago. She didn’t waste any time and slipped her tongue into your mouth, exploring like it was the first time.
Her mouth slowly started to wander over your cheek, to your neck and then your cleavage. In this moment you were glad that you chose to wear a little crop top, which made you tits look amazing.
“Can I take it off?”, Nat asked while tugging at the edge of your shirt, but you were already nodding frantically before she even managed to finish her question. She helped you out of it, leaving you with no bra and only your skirt on.
The redhead leaned back a bit, admiring your now exposed body with a new kind of hunger in her eyes. Even though she had just seen it, she still couldn’t believe that you were real. After snapping out of her thoughts she attached her lips to your breast, taking her time with her caresses and giving both breasts even attention, before sucking one of your nipples into her mouth. She repeated her earlier actions almost identically, but that did not mean that you enjoyed it any less.
Her mouth always felt amazing on you, and you feared that every second her mouth or hands were not touching you, you’re going to miss that feeling. For now, though, you would just enjoy the moment and the sight of her on top of you.
Once she felt like she had worshipped your breasts enough she started to litter your stomach with wet open-mouthed kiss, making you shudder.
She hooked her fingers into your skirt and pulled down your skirt, removing your panties with them. Afterwards she slid down into the footwell, now kneeling between you spread legs. In her new position she continued her way down your body, leaving out your pussy, teasing you and starting to kiss along your thighs.
You started squirming underneath her intense attention, but Nat was quick to grab your thighs and spread you legs a little further.
Slowly, she was now nearing your pussy again and you could already feel her heavy breaths against your heat.
“I’ll eat you out now, sweetheart. That all right with you?”, she asked you and you were able to breathe out a weak ‘yes please’ and that was all it took for Nat.
She connected her tongue with your wet pussy and licked a stripe up your slit, making you moan and writhe underneath her. Tightening her grip on your thighs and holding you down she started to explore you, this time with her mouth and tongue rather than her fingers.
The redhead got lost in the taste of you, teasing you by circling your hole with her tongue before moving on again. It didn’t take long for her to have some mercy on you though, as she wanted to hear what other noises would come out of you.
She started to circle your clit, making you throw your head back. One of your hands found it’s way into her hair while loud moans were leaving your lips. Nat was working you so well, her tongue moving from your hole to your clit and then back again. She was driving you insane in the best ways possible.
You could slowly start to feel that coil in your stomach tighten and voiced so much, but the redhead just started to eat you out more vigorously. The noises the two of you made could have been straight out of a porn movie, the moans and whines escaping your lips, the obscene sounds of Nat’s tongue lapping at your folds.
She took one hand off your thigh and started to circle your entrance with one of her fingers while she was circling your clit only with the tip of her tongue. The new sensation drove you mad, and you were so so close.
When she then slipped one of her fingers into your tight hole you were done for. You tightened your grip on her hair and came with a shout of her name. Nat slowed down but still worked you through your orgasm, her finger massaging your inner walls while her tongue was moving over your swollen lips.
Once you released her hair and got your breathing under control again the redhead pulled away from you. You could see your slick covering here lips and chin. Not being able to control yourself you leaned forward and connected your lips with hers, tasting your own arousal on her tongue.
With one hand on her hip, you guided her back onto the seat, so she was practically lying on top of you. Your other hand started to grope her body before you pulled away from her lips.
“Now, let me return your favour!”, you told her sheepishly and she could only smile before you connected your lips again.
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a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen
taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa
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beautysamour · 1 year
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Your beauty never ever scared me
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Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader
Summary: figuring out you were a descendant of the darkling messed up everything. with all the backlash you received because of this, your self esteem takes a blow. the company of a certain prince causes you to realize that you aren’t the monster you began to think you were.
warnings: some angst but this has a happy ending
a/n: the nikolai brain rot is real 😔🫶 enjoy! Also this is set before it’s revealed that mal is the third amplifier.
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No. No, Baghra was wrong. You knew who you were and who your family was, she was wrong.
You’ve been going over the pieces of dialogue you had with Baghra ever since the sun set in your bed- well one of the palace’ bed. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of being related to him, to sharing his blood, his power.
To having any connection with the darkling.
You were never discovered by the grisha as a kid. Whenever the testers came by, your parents would give you a small cut somewhere on your body that could easily be hidden and at the time you didn’t think much of it- because you could barely remember them doing that.
You never had a good relationship with your parents so you didn’t think anything of it when they’d hurt you. It was just normal.
You never necessarily feared grisha, but you always feared the Fold and by extension, the power of the darkling. To think that all it would take for the Fold to get worse was to piss him off.
And piss him off you did.
During his little demonstration with Alina in the Fold, he tried to get you to join him thinking that you knew. That interaction finally made sense to you.
Feeling your head start to hurt and feeling even worse after realizing what’s in your blood, you turn off the lights in your room and go to bed.
“I hope I’m not ruining your day too much, sweetheart.”
Nikolai woke you up early this morning and asked for you to accompany him on a horse ride, “just for fun.” he said.
You knew better though, Nikolai never batted an eye at you since you boarded his- sturmhond-, ship. Alina was always more interesting. You knew that you were respected once you got the palace though, Tolya continuously singed out praises of your name to the army.
You knew that people in the palace had no problem with your presence, until now. Until people learned that you were grisha. Not everyone knows you’re related to the Darkling however, only a few people know.
Including Nikolai.
So you knew better. You knew that the only reason why you were with him right now is because he was told to keep an eye on you, to supervise you. You were now considered to be scum, as you were grisha.
“Wasn’t planning on doing much today, so I’m fine.”
You heard a soft snicker come from Nikolai’ direction but chose to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path in front of you two.
“Right,” he says with a slight grin on his face, “I’m glad, I’d never want to ruin a pretty girls’ mood.” From your peripheral you could see Nikolai observing you, looking for a reaction. He’s use to the normal flush of the cheeks and a stutter through a sentence, but you had no reaction to hearing him call you pretty. He had a rather flirty personality so his words meant nothing to you.
You remained silent hoping he would drop the conversation. You didn’t have anything against Nikolai, you actually really liked him. You could tell that he was going to be the king that Ravka needs.
But there was too much on your mind for you to be able to have small talk.
Nikolai suddenly let out a distressed sigh, “I have a meeting to get to sweetheart, if Vasily wasn’t getting on my back every hour of the day I would’ve stayed all day out here with you,” he pulls the reigns on his horse and turns towards the palaces’ direction, “let’s go back?” He gives you a small guilty smile and tilts his head resembling a puppy begging for a treat.
You nod feeing glad that you’ll be able to fully indulge in your thoughts and pull the reigns on your horse, riding back to the palace.
“She’s a monster!”
Nikolai was tempted to raise his voice, he and Vasily have been at it for the past hour. Yesterday, news got out that you were grisha- the soldiers gossip- and Vasily immediately told Nikolai that he should make you leave. Nikolai fought back against that idea and to get Vasily to shut up for at least a day about you, he agreed to “spy” on you.
“Nothing has changed, she’s still the same person Tolya constantly praised, and that you wanted as your bride.”
Nikolai did not want to have this conversation again. You were still the same girl he met on the ship, the two of you may have not interacted as much but he still saw you.
You were nothing like the Darkling and he had no problem reminding his brother of how infatuated he was with you.
“That was before I realized she was his kin, a monster just like him!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, finding it harder to control his raising temper. Vasily paced around his room, repeatedly mumbling out curses in the remembrance of previously touching you.
He was disgusted and he, like many other people in the palace, wanted you gone. He stopped pacing when Nikolai straightened his back before getting up from his chair and walking to the door of the room, indicating that this little meeting was over. “Nikolai,” Vasily called out in a strained voice, “Think about the people.”
Nikolai felt his body freeze. Think about the people. Oh, he was thinking about the people. You were no threat, maybe to your enemies but not his people. Not wanting to lash out at his brother, Nikolai took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Good night, brother,” he decides to say. He faces his body towards him and while still trying to keep his composure, he sends his brother a sharp glare with eyes filled with pure irritation, “I will not change my mind.”
You pressed your head further into your pillow trying to block out the obnoxious knocks that were coming from your door. Who could possibly already be in need of your presence?
After a few more seconds of the continuous knocks getting more aggressive and louder, you gave in to the persistent demands for you to open the door and got up.
“It’s really quite early,” you said through loose lips. You abruptly finished your sentence, a slight feeling of panic rushing into your body. Nikolai Lantsov. He was here again, the people must be getting more weary of you if he felt the need to visit you again.
You didn’t bother fixing up your hair or straightening out your evening wear before opening the door and you greatly regretted not doing so at the moment, you dropped your shoulders feeling embarrassed that he saw you in an unprofessional state.
He put on a slight smile in attempt to charm you, which he succeeded at, you internally pushed away that feeling of giddiness and straightened your posture waiting for him to speak.
“Yes it is quite early, that’s why I came here,” his eyes trail down your body and back up to your eyes before outstretching an arm, “breakfast?”
“Uh,” you stutter out, “sure, just let me…clean myself up.” You awkwardly moved your gaze from him trying to avoid how awkward this situation was as you closed your door- his was mid sentence in saying of course he’ll wait- but your door closed before he was able to finish.
You sat down in the chair that was in front of a middle sized mirror just above the table. You stared at your reflection for a few seconds before bringing your hands up to cover your face and curling your body into yourself. You much prefer not having the Prince’ attention.
It’s been a little over three months since Nikolai invited you for breakfast and you’ve begun to question his actual intentions.
He comes to your room each morning and invites you for breakfast and shares most of his hours with you, but all of these hangouts tend to follow your own terms.
If you wanted to go back to your room, Nikolai would simply walk you to your room, kiss the back of your hand, and continue his day without you. Usually you’d be the one to reach out to him during these days if you decided you wanted to be outside your room again.
You almost forgot that he had a duty as being a prince and that you were related to their current number one enemy. And you almost forgot that people still feared grisha. Almost.
People talk and rumors spread fast, you and Nikolai weren’t invisible whenever you two walked around the palace grounds. Inevitably people began to gossip.
Nikolai was always with you, he spoke of finding a bride openly around you which has caused some people to theorize about your relationship with him. The most common theory was that you were using him, that you used your grisha powers as a threat against him, that you would hurt the people if he did not enter a romantic relationship with you.
You tried to block them out. Nikolai never brought those rumors up so you assumed he just never heard them, well you weren’t going to be the one to tell him about it. What if he hears them then realizes that they might be right, that he was an idiot for ever letting his guard down around you.
As much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t deny the way your heart would race every morning, every time he knocked on your door and offered his arm. Every time he’d invite you into his personal quarters and give you that stupid smile paired with a tilt of his head that made you want to do anything he’d ask of you.
He made you feel like you weren’t a monster, that you weren’t a threat. You didn’t want to loose his trust, and you didn’t want to loose him. The amount of trust he has put in you threw you in for a loop, you’ve been constantly arguing with yourself over whether or not he’s being genuine or is still keeping an eye on you.
You couldn’t fault him if he was just doing this to keep an eye on you still, the Darkling has been visiting you, just like he was been with Alina.
“Sweetheart?”
You immediately tore your eyes away from the food in front of you after hearing his voice. In front of you; Nikolai was leaning slightly forward his eyebrows furrowed giving his face a worried expression.
“Yes?” You replied. You don’t know how long it’s been since you zoned out, but when you pick up your silver ware to put some of the food in your mouth it was cold.
Nikolai let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding, “Did you hear what I said?”
Shit.
You opened your mouth to say a lie, yes, but you knew that he’d immediately call your bluff. He was observant, too observant sometimes. He had a talent for reading people.
“No,” you decided to say, “sorry, I zoned out.”
He leaned back in his chair and relaxed his eyebrows, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been telling you about my day and you zone out? Do I really not matter to you?” He whines.
Nikolai had a thing for theatrics, especially when it was to tease someone. Seeing that you had no regret in your gaze towards him, he lets out another breath and gives in to the smile he was holding back.
“That’s alright, this means that I can spend more time with you.” His wholesome smile now turning into a flirtatious grin, he puts his forearms on the table and leans closer to your face, “I do quite enjoy your company anyways.” His smile slightly drops as his eyes also fall to your lips then back to your eyes.
Lately you two have been having more moments like this, where the two of you fall into moments like these where Nikolai’ flirting feels more genuine.
The one thing that hasn’t changed throughout these few months of you two hanging out was that you knew better. Flirting was a regular thing for Nikolai, and because of that you let out a laugh causing Nikolai to lean back; seeming to now be avoiding your gaze.
“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me? The big bad grisha,” you tease. You felt a little disappointed at seeing that he was avoiding your gaze, Nikolai wasn’t the type to back away from flirting. You lean forward on the table, “Saints Nikolai, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.”
Taking your teasing tone as a dare, he returned his gaze to you and leaned forward on the table coming dangerously close to your face. This time you were taken aback, and ever the observer, he saw. He accompanied his smug expression with a smirk, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.” His voice turned into a whisper as he finished his sentence.
He waited for you to do something. He wanted to see how long you’d last, for what exactly, well only Nikolai really knows that.
You counted your heartbeats, and three heartbeats later Nikolai dropped his gaze and turned his head as he let out a snicker, “Just messing around princess,” he straightened his back and got out of his seat, “we leave before sundown.”
You watched as he left the dining area, a little confused at what he meant about leaving before sundown but then you remembered; the mission.
“Shit.”
“Nikolai,” you called out to him as you walked into his tent, “why is my tent all the way on the other side of camp?”
This mission really wasn’t that dangerous compared to everything else that was going on but you didn’t want to gamble Nikolai’ life, since he was a prince.
“Good evening to you to sweetheart,” he said in a lighthearted tone before putting down the letter in his hand, “can’t keep your mind off of me?”
He was right, you couldn’t.
You let out a scoff slightly annoyed, “What if you get attacked? And I’m all the way on the other side of camp- I wouldn’t be able to help!”
Mirroring his actions earlier in the day, his refused to meet your gaze as he leaned back in his chair. “If I were to get attacked, you’d be safe. I have people with me- fighters who’ll be able to protect me if I somehow am not able to protect myself. You don’t need to worry.”
You exhaled as you felt yourself deflate. You wanted to say more but you knew that it wouldn’t matter once the conversation ended. All you would’ve succeeded at was creating some unnecessary tension between the two of you, with you being annoyed, which Nikolai thought was already out of character with you getting upset about something so small, and Nikolai being busy.
You glanced back at him before turning around to leave his tent, resembling a toddler who got upset after hearing they couldn’t get a toy they wanted.
Hearing your footsteps get further away, Nikolai lifted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head and picking up the letter again.
Nikolai lifted his head from his desk as soon as he heard a deafening scream, immediately on high alert and running out of his tent. The first thing that greeted Nikolai were soldiers running. Tents were on fire and the once peaceful camp was now overwhelmed with chaos.
Instead of his first thought being to get his people out of this ambushed camp, which was his second, he wanted to get to you. Now he regretted putting your tent on the other side of camp, now he had no idea where you were or if you were ok.
He started running to your side of the camp before getting blocked by a drüskelle-
“Desjenet!” yelled out the drüskelle. Nikolai began to reach out for his sword but made no action to take it out yet. “I’m not grisha-“
“But you protect them,” seethed out the drüskelle, “you are an enemy if you protect them.”
Not leaving anytime for Nikolai to respond, the drüskelle lunged forward but was never able to make contact with Nikolai. The man began to sway before falling apart. His head, upper body, and lower body all disconnect from each other as he falls to the ground, a dark wisp of smoke fading into the air as he does.
Nikolai didn’t take much time looking at the corpse in front of him when he heard another scream, forcing him to look up and see who was responsible for the death.
You. There you are standing in front of him, seemingly frozen in place and regret immediately floods into your veins. You just killed some using his power. You looked up at Nikolai and suddenly felt the need to throw up. So much to not wanting him to see you as a monster.
Nikolai, remembering that someone screamed, moved his gaze to the soldier a few feet away from you who had seemed to have seen you kill a man using the Darkling’ power. “Monster…” the soldier whimpered out before running away.
Nikolai had the urge to curse out his soldier but swallowed that urge down, the camp was still on fire and the two of you needed to get out. He ran over to you and grabbed you by the arm. “Are you alright,” he asks. You avoid his gaze. When you don’t answer he begins to start running, with his hand still on your arm dragging you through the camp, trying to find a horse.
He felt you stiffen and he felt you resist your urge to pull away from him. He wanted to look back at you, to talk to you face to face and assure himself that you’re alright but he decides against it. You guys will talk once you get back to the little palace.
You’ve been in Nikolai’ personal quarters before but you’ve never been on his bed. You’re sure your thoughts would’ve been completely incoherent if you weren’t so caught up about using the cut.
Saints, you were truly a monster.
Nikolai entered the room, he was checking up with his soldiers and making sure everyone or at least most of the people who were at the camp came back here. If there were any that didn’t, a rescue squad was already sent out.
You didn’t bother to look at Nikolai as he sat down on the edge of his bed next to you. You couldn’t look at him, you didn’t even want him to speak. You couldn’t bare to hear him call you a monster-
“Are you alright,” he says instead.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckles. You thought you’d never hear that again, you never he thought he’d bring you back to the palace.
“I’m alright. Now, are you going to give me an answer?”
You don’t give him an answer for a few seconds. Then suddenly the confusion become to hard to contain, “Why did you bring me back here?”
He turns his head to you and tilts it, now being the confused one, “You’re one of my soldiers, why would I not?”
“Because I’m a monster!” You blurt out. You don’t get why he cared, and now you’re really questioning if he was just spying on you the entire time or not, it seems like he was not.
“I’m not just a grisha Nikolai, I’m related to the enemy, I used to his power to kill someone right in front of you! Now everyone in the palace knows I’m related to him, all the soldiers are weary of me and it makes it even worse that I’m close to you. You’re reputation is getting corrupted because you’ve been seen with me.”
He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on you and lets you continue.
“The people think I’m- that I’m using my power to manipulate you and seeing how you had no reaction to me using the cut, they might come to some stupid conclusion that you’re actually conspiring with the enemy-“
“Y/N.” He finally interrupts, “Is that what’s been on your mind for these past few months?”
The last time he called you by your name was when he was Sturmhond. Hearing him call you by your name succeeded at making your heart ache even more.
“Yes,” you say, “so I don’t understand why I’m still here.”
You turn your head to meet his eyes and regret it immediately. The amount of intensity in his eyes is enough to make you choke on your saliva.
“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. You can’t figure out if he’s trying to change the topic or maybe you just smell that bad. Maybe changing the topic is what you needed before you end up having a full on mental break down in front of him.
“Ok,” you whisper. Nikolai gets up and walks to his bathroom, soon you hear the sound of water entering his bathtub. Noticing that you didn’t follow him, Nikolai sticks his head out of his bathroom and gestures you to come into his bathroom.
Even though the atmosphere was rather uncomfortable, you still…liked him. So being invited into such a personal space still managed to make you shy.
Nikolai is leaning against his bathtub when you enter his bathroom. Hearing you enter, Nikolai lifts his head up to look at you then glances at your face, your hair, and your body before getting up to give you some alone time.
Getting a random surge of boldness you grab his hand and keep him in place. He turns his head to look at you and tilts his head in confusion, once again resembling a puppy.
“Can you…stay,” you cringe internally after hearing those words come out and avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush. You hear a cough, as if someone was trying to stifle a laugh.
“Ok.”
You’re thankful that he doesn’t tease you for asking him to stay, the atmosphere is still rather uncomfortable for that.
He keeps his back turned to give you some privacy as you undress. Once you finish undressing, you fold your clothes and tuck them into a corner that you were sure wouldn’t get wet.
You cleared your throat once you fully got into the tub, “You can turn around now.”
From your peripheral, you see Nikolai sit down on a stool that was right next to his bathtub. “Do you need help cleaning yourself?” He asks.
You should’ve shaken your head because you’re fully capable of cleaning yourself, but you couldn’t fight back the giddiness in you that manifested at the thought of a physically intimate moment with Nikolai. So you nod.
Nikolai picks up a small towel and rubs it on a bar of soap before putting it on your body. You hoped he wasn’t able to see your red face as you flushed even more when he started moving the towel.
“You aren’t a monster.” He says instead once again, “You haven’t changed at all,” you turned your head to look at him but he didn’t meet your eyes, his eyes focused on your body as he cleaned it. “You’re still the same girl that boarded Sturmhond’ ship. You’re still caring, and thoughtful. You still overthink and stress too much on what other people think of you, but you’re also confident at the same time. You know your worth and you simply want to make sure other people do to.” He moves you hair out of the way as he moves the towel to the back of your neck.
“Actually maybe you aren’t the same girl I met. But you’re not to blame for that.” You didn’t think it was possible but your heartbeat began to thump even harder at feeling his hand, even though it was separated by a towel, on your neck. Oh, and also by his words. You didn’t think he noticed you that much when he was Sturmhond.
Suddenly he looked up and you looked away.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-
“You aren’t the Darkling. You saved me. Well I mean, drüskelle are strong, I admit, but they wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”
You could hear the grin on his face, it was attempt to lighten the mood, to see if you felt better.
“You’re power doesn’t determine what you are, Y/N, how you use it determines that. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t used it unjustly.” He curled his index finger under your chin and put his thumb on your chin to turn your head, so you’d finally be looking at him. “Don’t let your fear of your power determine your worth.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you got lost in his eyes. Yes, you were listening to him and it made your heart ache in a good way at hearing his words, but feeling his touch made it difficult to concentrate.
“Ok,” you whispered. You looked down, fully processing his words. You weren’t a monster. You weren’t a monster.
You weren’t a monster.
Noticing the sides of your lips slowly lift, Nikolai felt a small smile form on his face and lets go of your face. He failed to see how the sides of your lips slightly went down.
Feeling that the atmosphere felt more light, you attempted to make a joke, “Well, are you just going to sit there?”
“Hm?” Nikolai raises an eyebrow at your question. Did you want him out…?
“You’re not going to join me?”
Without missing a beat, Nikolai speaks up, “Do you want me to?” It wasn’t meant to be teasing, but it easily came off as such.
Fully expecting Nikolai to say something a little more…bold, his nonchalant yet teasing question caused you to look away from him, again, feeling embarrassed at your bold “joke.”
Nikolai lets out a laugh that makes you swoon. Saints, the affect this man had on you was embarrassing.
“Saints Y/N, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.” He says, mirroring your previous conversation.
You turn your head back at him and take a moment to figure out what you want to say in return, you decide to say something you’ve heard before. Leaning slightly towards him but still managing to cover your cleavage, you say, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.”
Nikolai freezes completely, not sure how to react to that. Yes, he wants you to commit, he wants you, but do you want him? He’s sure that he’s been interpreting your feelings as romantic correct, but he still had that thought of just maybe, maybe he was wrong.
Nikolai was never one to back off from a challenge however, so he leans forward and rests his forearms of his knees; leaning in closer to your face, “Yes,” he says, “I do.”
He brings one his hands up to the side of your face and cups it, leaning in closer but leaving enough room to still be able to back away if he was reading this all wrong. He looks into your eyes and practically pleads for your approval, for you to let him kiss you.
When all you do is lean closer, Nikolai fully closes the distance and connects his lips with yours.
As one could expect from a kiss with Nikolai, it was passionate and loving and deep. You could feel how deep his feelings for you ran and you could feel all of his feelings. Growing impatient, for some reason, Nikolai grabbed the back of you neck to deepen the kiss. He brought his other hand up to your bottom lip and brushed it down. Realizing what he wanted, you opened your mouth and to your surprise; Nikolai whined into the kiss.
Finding it funny that Nikolai was a whiner, you began to laugh. It started with small giggles but then turned into actual laughs causing Nikolai to pull away and slightly deadpan at you.
When you didn’t stop laughing, Nikolai leaned back and let out a sigh, opting to just let you finish laughing.
“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t take you as a whiner,” you say before you burst out laughing again.
Nikolai continued to watch you laugh with a slightly annoyed, but adoring, expression before brushing your hair out of your face. “You know, you never answered my question.”
You wipe fake tears out of your eyes as you try to calm down, “huh?”
“When I asked if you wanted me to commit to you, you never gave me an answer.”
“I think my answer is quite obvious now.” You let out a soft laugh before Nikolai spoke again.
“Yes well, I want to hear it.” Nikolai leans forwards again but not as close as before, just close enough to where he could you whisper yell, “I want to hear that you want me.” He finishes with a slight smirk.
You look away from him, getting flustered again. He really wanted to hear you profess your feelings for him, huh.
As you were getting flustered you remembered that Nikolai was a whiner. As much as you wanted Nikolai, he was arguably more desperate for you. So why not tease him a little more?
You leaned forward again, not bothering to cover your cleavage anymore, and pressed your lips onto his, but not necessarily kissing him. “Alright my prince,” you whisper out. The smirk on his lips immediately drop as he tries to kiss you again but then you pull away, and before he could whine again, you leaned forward again. “I want you to commit to me. I want you.” Nikolai could barely focus at feeling your lips brush onto his, feeling as if he didn’t kiss you right here right now, he’d go crazy.
Feeling smug, you pull away from him to which he immediately follows. He puts his hand on the back of your neck once again and pulls you forward, connecting your lips again.
He groaned this time at the feeling of your lips on his.
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taintedcigs · 1 year
Text
GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader
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CHAPTER THREE: I’LL SWIM DOWN, WOULD YOU?
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✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane. (wc: 6.7k+)
✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, fluff!, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, reader is sad but also mad </3, mention of bruises from an ab*sive relationship (in the past)
✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader
✦ authors note — im so glad you guys are liking this series !! feel free to chat with me in the asks and sorry for the cliffhanger >:( also not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! and sorry for the twisted sister slander eddie said it not me!
series masterlist | series playlist
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It was late, really fucking late. Something you missed noticing while you were taking your supposed one hour sobbing nap. 
Your gaze gravitated toward the window, fingers fluttering to adjust the comfortable, frilly black dress you had casually slipped into moments earlier. But now, it made you feel stupid, like you were trying too hard, your mind was telling you that no matter which pretty dress you chose, he’d never want you. 
He wanted her now.
Your attention diverted toward the glove compartment, fighting the urge to yank it open, wishing those The Cure tapes could fall on your lap now. 
The uncomfortable silence between the two of you was starting to sink in now, accompanied by the Beastie Boys blasting through Eddie’s speakers. And you knew he was doing it on purpose because he knew you couldn’t resist, automatically making you hum along to it while he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel, the two of you perfectly in sync with the beat, and it shouldn’t bring such a silly smile to your face, but it does. 
“So, uh…” He started off, eyes still on the road, he couldn’t afford to look at you, you looked breathtakingly pretty; the soft glow of the dashboard light highlighted your features, and with that goddamn black dress on you, Eddie was sure he was fully enamored by you.
“I’m–I’m sorry about the whole Chrissy thing,” He muttered, gaze avoiding yours. “It just kind of happened, but–she changed, she really changed.” 
“She–she told me how sorry she was about the whole Billy thing,” You gulped physically at the name, biting your lips nervously.
It didn’t fucking matter how sorry she was now, Chrissy was supposed to be your friend. You already had a hard time trusting people but you gave Chrissy that chance, you opened your heart to her, and you let her in, but she decided to stomp on it and chewed your trust in the cruelest way possible.
“I would’ve never talked to her if she hadn’t.” He avoided your gaze again.
“Cool… and you gathered that in what? A week?” You muttered angrily. 
Eddie fell silent at that, he didn’t know what to say next, he knew he was in the wrong, and he was desperate to fix it now.
“No, no I– just,” he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this, Eddie,” you snapped, head turning towards the view of the window, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line in an attempt to hold the words you wanted to say. 
You’re jealous—so incredibly jealous that it seeps through your skin. You wonder if he can tell, if he can see through you like he always did. 
“We’re not together,” He muttered embarrassedly. Chrissy seemed nice, but Eddie knew that she wasn’t you. Sure, Chrissy was pretty, but her face couldn’t make the gloomiest person in the world grin like yours did. And she was funny, but she could never make him nearly choke on his drink the way you always did. And he knew she could never, ever make him feel in a way you did. 
He was acutely aware of how awful that sounded, but he wasn’t trying to use her in any way; he was just trying to move on, but with you here, it was fucking impossible. You would always be his priority. No matter what happened between the two of you, if you even so much as glanced his way, he'd drop everything and come running. And that’s what scared him, that’s what made him act so unlike him toward you today because it was terrifying how much he truly wanted you.
You glared at him now, a second warning to shut him up, and he was quick to press his lips tight together. 
He huffed. “Look, how about we just… start over?” You finally plucked up the courage to face him again. With the warm breeze of summer nights in Hawkins having its full effect as it rustled through the open car windows, you could see his hopeful eyes.  
“Let’s just put it all behind us, you know… wipe the slate clean.” Your interest peaked with that; both of you had fucked up already, and if there was any way to survive the next five days with him and not be a burden to both Jonathan and Nancy, this was the perfect solution.
“Because I really don’t want us to have this weirdness over this whole wedding weekend- uhh… five day thing.” Shit. Was he actually reading your mind?
“Me neither.” You agreed in a mumble.
“Yeah?” Eddie asked with that pretty grin stuck on his lips. God, it was infectious, and his hopeful question fluttered your heart, you could feel yourself soften. Maybe this could work.
“So, uh- can we be… civil?” His voice was wavering, visibly nervous. 
You could put the whole Chrissy thing behind you for now, couldn’t you? At least until your next inevitable encounter with her. Maybe that was selfish, but you wanted to spend time with him; you wanted him all for yourself, just for a few hours, without any third person meddling their way in, so you nodded furiously. 
“Friends?” He offered, his hand extending to shake yours.
And even though that word fucking hurt, that’s all you could afford with him, too. You didn’t want to reopen the old wounds, at least not yet, and you were more than ready to settle for being friends with him for now. If it meant you could talk to him or be near him, you would do anything.
“Friends.” You agreed, hand harshly shaking his as you squinted your eyes jokingly. 
“They talked some sense into you, didn’t they?” You squinted.
“Nancy?” You asked with a slight smirk.
“Dustin and Jonathan, actually.”
“Dustin told me I was in the wrong with the whole Chrissy thing,” Eddie muttered as he stole a glance at you before he focused on the road again.  You fought hard to shrug off the smug smile on your lips; just the image of both Dustin and Jonathan telling Eddie off filled you with glee. “I swear that little shit is more mature than any of us.” You added.
“Don’t I know it?” He breathed, making you giggle. 
“So, where exactly are we headed to? Because I’m tired of seeing trees everywhere, and I’m starting to think you’re going to kidnap me.” You muttered with a narrowed gaze, attempting to ease the tension.
“You can’t tell?” He huffed, a little smile tugging at his lips at your joke. 
“Nuh-uh.” 
“You’re getting rusty, sweetheart.” You scoffed at that, eyeing the road quickly so you could tell him off. 
Once he passed by Mirkwood, you knew exactly where he was headed. A squeal escaped your lips childishly. “Oh my god!” 
The community pool. 
The two of you had snuck in at least a hundred times before. Even Chief Hopper had gotten tired of dragging both of your drunk asses off the pool. 
He couldn’t help the way his lips fully etched into a grin now, he had missed that genuine smile on your face and that childish squeal. 
“Eddie!” You squealed again when he finally neared, mouth stood agape. 
“Are we going in?” You asked excitedly. It was boggling your mind how quickly he melted your defenses. 
Before letting him nod, you spoke up again. “Ahh, shit! If I had known, I’d put on a bathing suit,” you huffed, causing Eddie to snort lightly. 
Your eyes drifted toward his features now; he looked… so happy, and that goddamn grin on his lips—why did he have to be so pretty? 
“What?” You muttered, feeling almost shy under his gaze now. 
He used to look at you like that a lot, like you meant something to him, like you were the most important thing in his life. And it felt so good to have that back, to see those deep brown eyes glimmer again.
There was another deep pause, as if he were debating whether or not he should let you know how much it truly meant that you were here. How much he had missed you. How much he missed that graceful curve of your lips as it stretched to a sugary smile, missed the way your eyes sparkled childishly when something excited you. 
“Nothing… uh- I just... I’m glad that-uhh you’re back,” he muttered, shaking his head, a strand of curly hair falling on his forehead.
He wanted nothing more than to feel just a graze of your touch, he had wanted to wrap his arms around your frame the whole day; he wanted you to sweep his curls off his forehead as you threw him a giggle, that angelic sound filling the space. 
And oh, how he missed your presence. He missed the way you filled the space around him, filling him with warmth and making him feel alive. But his thoughts remained unspoken; instead, he settled for a simple, “I missed you.” 
He held your gaze, tracing the contours of your face and memorizing every feature; he wanted each and every part of you etched into his brain, just because he didn’t know if you would leave again; he couldn’t handle forgetting your features, not again.
“I missed you, too,” you murmured, voice low when you could barely let the words out. There was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability he only showed through it, and you returned it.
That impalpable silence was interrupted as he shook his head. “Let’s go, before you start getting in your head about getting in the pool with your clothes,” he teased, parking the car before he rushed off to your side. 
“M’lady,” He bowed dramatically when he opened the door for you, extending his hand, you took it with a giggle. “Such a gentleman!” You exclaimed, hands shaky when his grazed against yours. 
If Nancy and Jonathan could see the two of you now, their heads would probably explode, considering how both of you had been fluctuating between hot and cold the entire day.
“How are we even gonna get in?” You asked with a shrug, trying to keep up with him. 
He looked at you like he took offense to your question. “The old way, duh.” He shrugged carelessly, before he led the way. 
As you approached the silver metal fence, your heart skipped a beat, it had been so long since you had last done this, and when it loomed before you now, you had to physically gulp. “You scared or somethin’?” Eddie whispered in your ear with a sly grin, making you slightly jump. “N-no,” You muttered. 
"Then, do you wanna do the honors, sweetheart?” He asked with a wink, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. With a deep inhale you nodded, placing your hands on the cold, textured metal of the fence. Once you fully braced yourself, Eddie hoisted you with a strong push, you probably would’ve been more anxious if you weren’t distracted by the fact that Eddie’s calloused hands were grazing against your waist. 
You cursed at the loss of touch when you made it to the top, and with a disappointed sigh, you swung your leg over the fence, carefully climbing down to the other side. 
You watched him almost jump over it with no hesitation, and now you were concerned with how much this had turned you on. Shit, shit, shit. Why did he have to be so fucking attractive in everything he did?
“Jesus Christ, you’d think they would’ve made this more secure by now,” you muttered with a giggle in an attempt to shut up your dirty thoughts about him, hands stretching out to dust your dress off before you followed him toward the pool. 
The poolside area was the first thing that caught your attention. Maybe it was the stupid deja-vu but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by everything. The pool lights created a cool ambiance that was kissed by the moonlight cascading on them. Each ripple of the water’s surface carried around the awful scent of sunscreen and chlorine; each sight of this goddamn place took you down memory lane. 
“You want one?” Eddie’s voice caught your attention when he plopped into an empty lounge chair, his hand fishing out a poorly rolled joint—which was probably just squished from being in his pocket all day.  
You nodded, mind still spiraling from the fact that you were here, with him. “Our spot, remember?” He muttered, hand signaling toward his side so you could sit down next to him. 
You hummed in agreement, before you shyly sat down next to him. “Here, let me.” You muttered, pulling the dragon lighter from the pocket of your jacket. 
His eyes almost widened again at the sight of that lighter, a tense silence overtook the space while you helped him light the joint sitting on his lips. “Uhh, t-thanks,” He muttered awkwardly. 
The two of you basked in that uncomfortable silence before Eddie finally turned toward you. “Is it just me or does this feel fuckin’ awkward again?” He took another long drag from the joint, breathing out before he turned to pass it to you, a nervous look crossing his features. 
And it makes you feel comfortable, that nervous breath you were holding in for so long finally slips out. “Thank god, because I thought I was goin’ crazy,” You murmured, happily accepting the joint as you placed it on your lips. 
“I-I just… I know a lot of shit happened between us, and I know we can’t fully pretend it never happened, but, this… this feels so nice.” You admit, gaze avoiding him. 
“It’s like, we used to have so much fun, we could do all this crazy shit and not give a single fuck. Do you even remember how many times Hopper escorted us out of here?” You asked with a slight smirk.
Eddie bit back on his tongue, he wanted to tell you that it was your fault. Wanted to remind you that the two of you could have been having fun all this time if you hadn’t just left him like that. 
But a clean slate is what he promised you, even though it was so fucking hard not to be bitter when he knew how much it hurt, because you had no clue how much you leaving him did a number on him. He had to pick on his own wounds, just so he wouldn’t reopen yours, just so you would talk to him again. 
He shook his head with a slight chuckle. “He really hated us, didn’t he?” 
“Oh, totally,” You muttered, head falling more toward his direction with a giggle. “Do you remember that time he chased us around here?” You almost gasped at the memory. 
“Shit!” He joined in on your laughter; his eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “How could I fucking forget?” He coughed out the drag he was holding in. 
"His stupid hat fell in the water," He recalled with a mischievous glint in his eyes, you giggled again leaning in closer, shoulders brushed against his, and both of your chuckles intertwined now. Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke up again "and he tried to get it. And then, oh my god..." You paused for dramatic effect, biting your lip to hold back more laughter.
"He slipped," he continued, with another chuckle, "face first into the pool!" Your laughter erupted louder as the memory replayed in your minds. And it felt so nice to have that genuine bond again. It gave you this sort of hope that whatever the two of you had, maybe it could withstand you leaving him; maybe it could withstand Chrissy, and the time and distance spent apart. 
And you so wanted to believe it, because this had genuinely been the happiest the two of you had ever been in the last five years.
Once both of your laughter died off, you took a deep breath, hand reaching out for the joint as you tapped on his fingers to pass it to you. You sucked on it until it numbed your mind, causing you to break the comfortable silence with your train of thought. “I still can’t believe they are getting married,” You breathed.
“Hmmm?” Eddie responded carelessly.
"I mean, I know they're literally like soulmates," you continued, "and I always knew they'd eventually get married. But isn't it too soon? Aren't we still too young for all of this?"
Eddie turned his gaze toward you, looking at you with his brows pinched together. "Why wait?" He asked, curiosity took over his features as he studied your face.
“If you have met the ‘love of your life’ and all that bullshit, and you knew you’d want to spend the rest of your life with them…” You shifted your position, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him more closely. “Wouldn’t you want to do that as soon as possible?” 
You considered his words for a moment before you spoke. “But how could anyone be… sure?” A hint of uncertainty was wavering in your tone. 
“What if they wake up one day and decide they're not in love anymore? Or they suddenly want completely different things in life? Or, oh god, what if they betray each other?"
His brows pinched together. “Oh, Pinky…” He shook his head.
“What?” You asked, your voice laced with curiosity.
“You still do that?” Eddie asked disapprovingly.
“Do what?” You retorted, sounding slightly defensive.
“You don’t trust anyone or anything, just so you don't get hurt,” he muttered.
“You nitpick every single part of something good... always trying to sabotage it because you’d rather ruin it than lose it,” Eddie explained with a concerned look on his face, and you hated it. You hated that he knew you so well, that he knew you by heart.  
“I do not do that!” You protested.
“Are you actually gonna tell me you never did that?” He gently prodded, tilting his head slightly as he regarded you with an all-knowing look.
You hesitated, your defenses crumbling just a bit. “Okay, maybe like one time, Munson,” you admitted with a reluctant squint of your eyes.
“You’re so afraid of losing something you love that you refuse to love anything,” He muttered, not realizing his concern had hit a nerve.
“But it doesn’t work like that. Love is not supposed to be that complicated.” He continued with a whisper, your gaze drifting away as you fiddled with your fingers, because he was right. 
“Why do you assume being loved by someone would ever be so hard?” Eddie realized he had truly hit a nerve and immediately regretted it. He could see the pain flash in your eyes—that familiar hurt you carried with you. You shook it off—a defense mechanism you had perfected over the years.
You found it too difficult to believe that someone could ever truly love you. And he knew that; he hated that he couldn’t tell you how much he loved every fucking part of you and how much he loved you for being you. You didn’t need to try for him; you didn’t need to do anything. You could just exist, and he’d still love you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when you had left him. 
And he knew he couldn’t apologize for his words because you’d just brush it off, you’d just close off on him more and more, and he didn’t want to ruin this in any way. 
Desperate to shift the mood, Eddie changed the subject, opting for a game of questions just so he could distract you. By the time the two of you had started passing around the second joint and had gotten over thousands of questions, you were seated near the pool now, knees grazing each other as your feet dangled into the water.
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you initiated the next question, “Favorite color?” You asked with a soft giggle.
Eddie responded with a playful tilt of his head, "That has to be the lamest question, ever," he quipped.
You gasped animatedly, pretending to be offended by his comment. "Oh, really?"
"Well then, Munson, do you have a better one up your sleeve?" Your eyes squinted in a playful challenge.
Eddie, puffed out his cheeks as he wrestled with his thoughts to come up with a question. After a moment, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “I’ve got one,” He muttered playfully.  
 “Saddest song you’ve ever heard?” Eddie inquired.
You let out a groan of mock exasperation, your shoulders slumping dramatically. "Oh, come on! How am I supposed to answer that?"
Eddie leaned back casually on his elbows. "Well, I already have mine," he shrugged.
“Really?” You huffed, “I need like an hour,” You muttered, causing Eddie to give you a look.
“Okay, fine, fine!” You sighed audibly, racking your brain.
“Oh, oh!” You shot up quickly, splashing your feet in the water, when you finally thought of something, “can I name two?” Eddie raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Two? Now you've got my attention, princess." He winked teasingly.
You leaned back on your elbows. "Uhhh… Here Comes a Regular or… Wango Tango."
Eddie couldn't help but snort at the unexpected combination. "What?" he chuckled. “I can understand Here Comes a Regular, but Wango Tango? Really?” He gave you that puzzled look again. 
“Okay, okay, before you judge!” You squinted your eyes. “Hear me out, because it has a story.” You said. 
“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” you admitted, noticing Eddie's raised eyebrows and intensified curiosity.
“What? Why?” He questioned. “Because I never told you about this before, and I feel like it’s just gonna drag our mood down,” you murmured, biting your lip nervously, as Eddie’s eagerness peaked further.
“Are you kidding? You absolutely have to tell me now!” Eddie demanded softly.  
“I mean, are you sure? It’s just a stupid story, and I don’t even know if it matters now—” You began to waver, failing to notice the intensity of Eddie's interest.
“Pinky, please.” He interrupted with a tilt of his head, his voice filled with an urgency to know. You nodded hesitantly.
"So, uhh, you remember how he used to uhh- drove me and Max to school every week?" He nodded, his muscles tensing as he understood who you were referring to. “I think it was another tough week for him, and we had already been fighting a lot," you began, tone laced with a hint of exasperation.
"I think that’s why he was on the edge again, like he was ready to explode at any moment," you continued, gaze avoiding him and fixed on the shimmering water of the pool.  "W-we were in the car, and you- you were driving like two cars in front of us.” Your eyes squinted as you recalled the details animatedly, and Eddie listened curiously, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of emotions.
“I think that like ticked him off or somethin’.” You shrugged, your voice wavering. “He started going on and on about you and he was already mad about us hanging out too much,” you stuttered and Eddie's jaw clenched as he listened, his eyes flashing with anger on your behalf.
“He threw me a look that I knew was nothing but trouble," you huffed with an ironic chuckle, but Eddie's expression remained stern, and you were starting to realize how dumb of a decision telling this story was, but it was too late now. 
“So then he, uhh- he started laughing all weirdly and following you, and I could just feel my blood boil, you know?” You went on, your eyes narrowing at the memory.
"I was telling him to stop, uhh, repeatedly, but he just… he just ignored me and sang that stupid song, tapping along to the rhythm.” Your lips curled with disgust at the thought.
“And oh god, Max just sunk into her seat, and that just made me go absolutely insane, Eddie!” 
“He was getting so close to you, like so close. And I-I knew you had no clue because I knew how loud you liked listening to your music in Aurora,” you muttered with a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood, but Eddie didn’t focus on your joke; he could feel his insides burning with that familiar rage and the need to protect you.
“I don’t- I don’t even know what came over me, and I-I just drove the car off the road." You breathed. “And I know that’s… that’s horrible because Max was there too but I had no other idea and I was scared,” you admitted, biting your lips to hold all of your emotions inside of you as you took a deep breath.
“And I wanted to keep you safe,” you murmured, and Eddie’s heart almost stopped at that. The guilt of you being hurt because of him weighed in on him now. And he wanted nothing more than to go back in time and beat the shit out of that douchebag, again.  
“And I just remember that look on Max’s face… that pure terror, and while all of that was happening… fucking Wango Tango was playing.” You couldn’t help the exasperated chuckle that left your lips. 
You finally looked up at Eddie again, realizing how much you had unloaded on him. "What?" he asked, dumbfounded.
“H-he did what?” He stuttered in fury; you could see it in the way he scrunched his brows together.  
“Shit… I don’t know what I was thinking; I really shouldn’t have told you this when we were having a good time-” You shook your head, sighing. “I just… right before I left Nancy’s, I-I saw that Camaro and that song has been stuck in my mind and it’s the first thing I could think of." You rambled quickly; you had never opened up this much about Billy before, and you were starting to regret it because you didn’t want him to pity you. 
“God, I must sound so annoying but I swear I’m not saying any of this to make you pity me or anything-”
“No, no, that’s not it.” He interrupted with a shake of his head. “I would never think that, are you kidding?” His hand sat on your knee for reassurance.
“No… no, I just wish... Why didn’t you just tell me?” He spoke to you in a gentle tone, but you could see his jaw clench. 
“I-I don’t know, I was scared, Eddie, and I didn’t want to drag you into my bullshit,” You murmured, gulping when you looked down at his fingertips gently caressing your skin. Your emotions were all over the place, his one touch just calmed you down, all of your worries vanishing in mere seconds. 
“Are you kidding?” He asked softly. “I-If I had known, I would’ve done something a lot sooner, Pinky, I used to think he was just a shitty boyfriend, If I had known how he was-I swear, I swear, I would’ve never let him hurt you.” His voice was desperate as he leaned in closer, gaze never leaving yours. 
“I should’ve fuckin’ known,” he mumbled under his breath, he wanted to punch himself for not seeing it quicker, not seeing him sucking the light out of you, the way you flinched around him, and, oh god, the random bruises. 
He was stupid. So fucking stupid. 
“Don’t say that!” You protested. “I was the one who kept it a secret, it’s not your fault, in any way,” you muttered, your thigh grazing against his.
“Eddie, you quite literally saved me,” you whispered, a graceful smile adorning your lips.
His eyes drifted toward you again, gaze locking with yours.
“Look, I don’t give a shit what happens between us, you can always, always tell me anything, okay? Any fucking thing.” Eddie reassured, with a soft tone.
You nodded, the smile that formed on your face was genuine, you really appreciated each of his words. Whatever happened between the two of you didn’t matter—Chrissy, you leaving him in LA, the fight at Nancy's—none of it fucking mattered. Eddie was still here for you, and you were going to do everything you could to make sure you wouldn’t lose him ever again. 
"Anything?" you asked, seeking confirmation. Eddie didn't hesitate. He nodded in affirmation, his gaze soft and unwavering. "Anything."
“Oh, good! Because I’ve been dying to let you know how much of a dork you look like in your own band’s shirt,” you said with a slight smirk playing on your face.  
Eddie raised his brows gleefully, and a grin overtook his features once again. "Oh, I'm so getting you for that one," he muttered, his fingers quick to graze against your sides. Once you realized what he was up to, you tried to get away, but it was too late. 
He started tickling you relentlessly while you squirmed and wriggled under his touch, trying to catch your breath between giggles. 
"Okay, wait—stop, stop!" You managed to speak, your voice coming out in gasps as you pleaded for a momentary break. Eddie finally relented, his fingers retreating as you caught your breath.
"You still haven't told me yours!" you exclaimed between your chuckles, trying to catch your breath and eager to distract him from tickling you again.
“Ahh shit,” he muttered with a chuckle. “Now I really don’t want to tell you mine, because it’s gonna sound so petty and childish.”
“Nuh-uh!” You protested. “You absolutely have to after all the shit I told you!” You encouraged. 
“Fine,” he muttered. “Leader of the Pack by Twisted Sisters,” he huffed, his face souring.
“What? Why?” You asked with a baffled look.
“Because, I waited for that album for two years, and the moment I listened to that song, I wanted to die.” His hand daggered through his chest dramatically, making you huff.
“A bit dramatic, don't you think?” Your brows pinched together playfully.
“No, I'm serious Pinky. That album was pure garbage, I swear I got teary over it.” You giggled slightly.
“No, but I love that!” you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up immediately.
“Love what? That awful song?” He asked with a scoff.
“No, you dumbass,” you huffed, rolling your eyes dramatically at him.
“I love that a record can make you feel so many different emotions, you know?” you mused. “Anyone can listen to it, and they can have so many different stories, it’s super fascinating to me.”
Your gaze shifted toward the pool’s rippling water. “That’s one of the things I love about working in a record shop—people have so many different stories and feelings regarding music and it’s just..." You muttered. “I don’t know I think it’s great that just one thing can make everyone feel something different, it’s like a secret language that speaks uniquely to everyone, you know?”
Eddie nodded, leaning closer to you now. “That is kinda… inspiring,” Eddie hummed as he pondered for a minute, and that piqued your curiosity. “Hold on a second,” he said, holding up a finger as you watched him reach into his pocket.
A worn notebook was sprawled on his lap, and once you leaned closer, you realized it was the ‘promise’ notebook. Your eyes widened as you tried to catch a glimpse of what he was scribbling inside. "What are you doing?" you asked, a mischievous giggle escaping your lips, but he playfully blocked your view.
"That's going in the notebook!" he exclaimed, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. 
“Nuh-uh,” you disapproved. “That was so lame.” You shook your head embarrassedly.
"No, it was quite touching, actually," Eddie replied with his head still buried in the notebook.
“So you just write down everything like that?” You asked with your head tilted.
“Pretty much,” he shrugged. “I just scribble down anything that feels important to me.” A smile etched on your lips at that. 
“And then sometimes, if I’m lucky, and I mean very very lucky, these thousand notes can turn into a song,” he hummed excitedly.
“Can I see them?” You asked with a hopeful look.
“No way!” He chuckled.
“What?” You exclaimed. “I should be like the only person who has access to that!” You huffed with your arms crossed across your chest.
“And why would that be, princess?” He pinched his brows together, teasing you.
“Uh, maybe because I gave you that notebook, asshole?” You retorted animatedly, teasing him back. 
He contemplated for a moment before he spoke. “Okay, how about this…” He mocked a thinking face, piquing your curiosity. “You go in the water with me… and I’ll give you a note,” he offered. 
Your gaze drifted toward the cold water. You always hated going to the pool without your bathing suit, and he knew that, but you so wanted those notes. 
“Just one?” You squinted your gaze. 
Eddie sighed dramatically. "Fine, I can give you one paper with notes on both sides," he conceded. You nodded frantically. “Deal!” You exclaimed, holding out your hand for him to shake it. 
“But one more thing,” He spoke up again causing you to groan. “You can only read it once you get home,” he mute. 
“Fine, is that all of your conditions, Munson?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow.  He mocked a thinking face again. “Pretty much, yeah,” he replied with a sly smirk.
“Okay, okay. Then I’ll go in the pool with you.” 
“You promise?” 
“Yeah,” you muttered. 
“Pinky promise?” He asked with a grin, and you rolled your eyes. Elbowing him playfully at his joke “Jerk,” you muttered under your breath. 
“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low. “What?” You inquired.
“Close your eyes so I can pick a note, and put it in your pocket.” He shrugged, and you obliged with a huff. 
You could hear him whipping through the notes, cursing as he debated which one he wanted you to see. 
“Your eyes still closed?” He asked, his voice still gentle. You nodded with a huff, trying to appear annoyed when your excitement was building with each passing second.
“‘Kay,” he mumbled, and you could feel his hands grazing you as he stuffed the note in the pocket of your jacket. 
“You can open them,” he said as soon as he was finished. 
“All done?” You muttered, cheeks still embarrassingly heating after you just felt a graze of his touch. He nodded with a grin. 
“Now it’s your turn,” he teased, fingers pointing toward the pool. 
Giving him an annoyed glare, you sucked in a shuddering breath. You glanced around at the pool again, the illuminating lights created a cosy atmosphere that truly warmed you, but you knew the chilly water would give you a rude awakening. 
Your trembling fingers slid your coat off your shoulders, tossing it aside as your feet splashed around the water. It was cold, and you looked back at Eddie with a pout. “We’re going to catch a cold,” you whined. 
Eddie huffed in mock annoyance, his impatience evident. "For the love of God, just go in," he exclaimed. You faced the pool again, feet still swishing around in the water. The more time you took, the closer you could feel Eddie’s silhouette behind you, and you knew if you didn’t go in soon, he was going to intervene. 
Your fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of your dress as you contemplated your decision once again. But before you could make up your mind, a sudden and unexpected push from Eddie left you in shock. Without warning, you were propelled dramatically into the pool, the water enveloping you with a cold, exhilarating rush. You emerged almost as soon as you fell in, sputtering and laughing, your dress clinging to your body and your hair plastered to your face.
“You asshole! I knew you would do that,” you exclaimed with a chuckle. 
You dived in once, fixing your hair after you emerged again. Your head tilting to see that sly smirk on his lips. “Jerk,” you muttered again. 
“Oh, you’ll live,” he mocked.
You extended your hand toward him with a pout, and he had a baffled look on his face. “Help me up, please,” you whined, shaking your hand further to convince him, but he could see that mischievous glint in your eyes.
Eddie squinted at you playfully, his head cocked in mock suspicion. “You think I’m fallin’ for that?” Your scoff only elicited a roll of his eyes. “You pushed me in, dumbass! The least you could do is pull me up." You protested, your hand waving in the air, waiting for him to fall into your trap. 
“Nah,” he shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips. You continued to whine, your hand still reaching out to him.
“Eddie, I’m serious, it’s super cold, and this dress is suffocating me!” You argued, the slight desperation in your voice making him feel for you. Eddie hesitated for a moment. That soft, innocent look in your eyes and the sweet pout on your lips were more than enough to convince him. If only he weren't as hopelessly infatuated with you, he might have resisted longer.
With a deep sigh, he extended his hand toward yours, taking it in a firm grip. “Fine, but if you try to pull me down, I swear to god-”
Before he could finish his threat, you swiftly pulled him toward you, yanking him off balance and into the water with a resounding splash.
Giggles erupted from your lips. “Too late!” you declared triumphantly, a wide grin adorning your face.
As you watched him resurface, he gave his head a good shake, water droplets flew around as his chuckles filled the air, and he couldn't help but praise you with a playful smirk. “You're good,” he admitted, the characteristic dimples on his cheeks making an appearance. You returned his compliment with a warm smile. “I know.”
Eddie felt dizzy; a flood of feelings hit him all at once when he looked at you again. He tried to divert his eyes away from you—from your smooth skin, from the sweet curve of your lips, from the way your brows pinched together when you giggled so sweetly. But he couldn’t.
Those innocent, big eyes that had a slight bit of mischievous glint in them—the way you fluttered your eyelashes at him whenever you teased him—it was all too fucking much for him.
Don’t look at her, Eddie. He tried to remind himself, but it was useless.
God, you really were beautiful. 
He shouldn’t be any closer to you, but he couldn’t fucking help it. 
When he swam closer, the laughter in the air had fully died down; there was only tension—so much tension that you could hear your own heart rate picking up. 
The water around you seemed to shimmer the closer he got to you, caging you between him and the edge of the pool. You gulped physically when you felt the concrete hit your back; he had you cornered. 
Each second stretched into hours now, and all the two of you did was gaze into each other's eyes, speaking a language without any words being spoken. 
He couldn’t help it when his gaze drooped down to your glossy lips, they looked so kissable that Eddie was about to lose his mind. You opened your mouth to speak but it was of no use, no words dared to come out of it. 
You watched in awe as his hands grazed against your cheek first, then he tucked that one strand of hair behind your ears. You could feel his breath fanning against your cheeks—that same speechless expression on his face that mirrored yours.  
Eddie was sure you had this unexplainable, tight hold on his heart. He had never, ever felt so completely possessed by someone before. You completely invaded his mind in a way that he struggled to put into words.
His calloused hands hooked behind your back as he inched you a little bit closer.  Your heart was pounding inside your ribcage, and your eyes were following his every movement. The second his forehead came to rest against yours, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut. 
“Look at me.” He whispered all huskily, and you were sure you had never heard him filled with this much desire.  
You didn’t dare to open your eyes, standing still and even afraid to let out that gasp you’ve been holding on to for far too long. 
Was this all real?
Was he actually going to kiss you?
406 notes · View notes
psylocke142 · 2 months
Text
Night of fireworks
Jihyo x fem!reader
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synopsis: Colorful lights began to erupt into the night sky. You felt as if your heart burst along with each explosion in the sky. Dreading the end of the festival. This is the last summer you will spend with Jihyo before you part ways.
w/c: 1.8k
warnings: none(?); maybe some angst; goodbyes; definitely some angst
a/n: i was surprised with the results of my first fic(?), not sure what to call it. thank you if you read that and left a like or reblog <3.  i was expecting nothing tbh so i was so happy to see it do better than i expected.
i was listening to Night of Fireworks by Xdinary Heroes and was inspired to write this work. i chose jihyo because i've been missing her zone & one spark era lately. DMs and asks are open. i’m still new to writing so any suggestions or comments are appreciated. apologies for any errors.
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Jihyo looked beautiful today. She always did, but today you felt mesmerized by her. Even with the lack of light outside, as the sun had already set, Jihyo seemed to glow in your eyes.
“Come on y/n, don’t get lost.”
Your hand was grasped by Jihyo’s, pulling you along to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Jihyo looked back towards you. Blinding smile crossing her features, making her glow even more.
Your mushy thoughts and gazing were suddenly interrupted.
“There you guys are, we’ve been looking for you two everywhere.” Nayeon huffed.
“These two have been running my pockets wanting to play every festival game.” She continued. The culprits, Momo and Sana, happily ate away at a huge bucket of cotton candy. Which was also bought with Nayeon’s money. No remorse in their eyes.
Mina just silently greeted you two with a smile and waved as Nayeon clung to her arm in defeat.
“Please tell them that these games are rigged for you to lose money trying to win stupid stuffed toys!” the eldest whined.
It was the end of summer, which meant that the city’s annual summer festival was in place. The six of you had decided to come to this year’s festival. You were all still adjusting to the adult world; the youngest of your group just finishing university, others securing new jobs, and the rest of you were piled with work. This left little room for your friends to hang out like before. There were still a few of you missing tonight.
Jeongyeon and Tzuyu couldn’t make it, the vet center they’re working at had them stay for the night shift. They explained that some of the animals get jumpy with fireworks, so they were quick to oblige. Chaeyoung and Dahyun volunteered to stay behind with them to help, expressing concern over their friends being left out. Really they just wanted to play with the puppies and kittens all night.
Your group of friends sought a night of enjoyment and unwinding. The girls were all glad to be able to have found time to gather and spend together. Jihyo was particularly delighted that majority of your group could make it. Wanting to see your girlfriend even more happy you had a plan. Tonight every wish Jihyo had was your command.
Jihyo wanted funnel cake?
You bought her some.
Jihyo wanted to go on the bumper carts?
You teamed up to annoy Nayeon by cornering her and continuously crashed into her cart.
Jihyo wanted a ‘stupid stuffed toy’?
You played the festival games until you won her a cute stuffed elephant.
Much to Nayeon’s dismay. Momo and Sana gave her puppy eyes and promised to treat her to dinner if she won them something. She relented of course. Surprisingly, or not, Mina won a medium-sized panda on her second attempt of the ring toss.
Despite being able to enjoy the festival and being with your friends, there was a gnawing feeling eating away at you. It would creep up on you throughout the night. Not letting you stray too far from the reality of tonight. A reminder of the ticking timer in your chest.
This summer festival would be the last you get to spend with Jihyo.
Jihyo had gotten a promotion. Said promotion was a significant milestone in her career, as she was still a rookie in her office, only having worked for her company for two years. This was a chance she couldn’t turn down, it would be unwise to do so.
However, there was a major downside to this promising opportunity. It required her to relocate. Jihyo had to move to the company’s prestigious headquarters — in Paris. She would be moving to a beautiful and alluring city while gaining valuable experience for her work, but it also meant she had to leave her current life behind. Her friends, family, and you.
Jihyo didn’t mind the idea of starting fresh in a new country. Her ambitiousness and work ethic would make that a smooth process. What weighed heavily in both her heart and mind, was what it meant for the two of you.
Despite your willingness to move to Paris and follow your girlfriend, she protested. You had just secured a job with your dream company a couple months ago. Following Jihyo meant giving up the job you dedicated your blood, sweat, and tears for. That was something Jihyo couldn’t allow. The memory of you jumping in joy when you landed the job fresh in mind. She couldn’t take that away from you by asking you to leave with her. Hesitantly you obeyed Jihyo, not wanting to further upset her or cause any more turmoil.
Uncertainty filled your hearts. Fear of what the distance, different time zones, and unforeseeable changes would make of your relationship. So you both reluctantly agreed to not let it reach to a point of no return. Not wanting to taint the beautiful relationship you cultivated throughout the years.
To set aside the worries and stress, Jihyo invited the group to the summer festival. Afterall, this would probably be the last time she gets to hang out with everyone for a while.
Jihyo’s main reason for coming to the summer festival was to see the firework show with you. She wanted to spend a memorable night with you before the end.
As you prepared to leave to watch the show, Jihyo said her goodbyes to your friends. Both sides making promises of keeping in touch.
The conversations between Jihyo and the girls made your heart clench, knowing that you were going to have a similar talk later that night. Taking in the fact that you would have a different goodbye than your friends. One more permanent.
Once again Jihyo was leading you, hand in hers, to a vacant park that would have a nice view of the firework show. Once again, you just cherished the sight of her.
As you sat down on the grass, waiting for the firework show to start, you realized that the night was ending. Without thinking you held onto Jihyo’s hand tighter. In response, the shorter girl placed herself between your legs. She wrapped your arms around her as she leaned herself into your front.
The distant crowd began to applaud and cheer as the countdown for the show began.
Colorful lights began to erupt into the night sky. You felt your chest constrict tightly with each explosion that fired into the sky. Dreading the end of the festival.
You looked up into the sky, at the fireworks.
Then you looked at Jihyo.
Her face was tilted upwards looking at the sky. Big round eyes reflecting the colorful lights. Soft black hair cascading down her profile in slight waves. Mouth slightly agape and forming a bright smile. Face expressing momentary awe and joy. You couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of love for the girl in your arms — the girl who held your heart.
Fireworks were nowhere close to shooting stars that you could wish upon. Still, you hoped that they could grant you just one wish. You gazed at the fireworks and you prayed to the explosive colors in the sky. To let you stay here forever, with Jihyo.
As the build up for the grand finale of the firework show began, you felt your heart’s timer begin to run out. The night was over. You held Jihyo tighter. Buried your head onto her shoulder. Trying to ingrain this moment into your brain.
Before the final fireworks went off Jihyo stood up unraveling herself from your warm embrace. Her back towards you.
“y/n…”
“it’s time.”
You hesitated to stand up. Not quite ready for what was to come.
You thought that maybe it was just you who felt devastated to have to say goodbye. Until Jihyo turned around and lifted her head to look at you. There were tears that had already fallen from her eyes and new ones that threatened to fall. She ignored her tears and just smiled at you.
Jihyo grabbed both of your hands to hold in hers. She observed your face intently. Slowly nearing towards you. She closed the small distance between you. Lips meeting in a gentle but desperate need to be together.
Her hands came up to caress your face but stopped when she felt the tears that ran down your cheeks. Tears that you hadn’t realized had fallen. Jihyo pulled back and wiped away your tears.
“This is what’s best, right Jihyo?” you muttered. Suddenly unsure of what you had both agreed upon. Not quite set on letting each other go. Not set on saying goodbye.
“Yes,” Jihyo quietly replied as her hands roamed your shoulders. Her body pushing against your front to be as close as possible. To savor your touch for these last few moments.
“I love you Ji,”
“I always will.” you whispered as you moved a strand of Jihyo’s hair to tuck behind her ear. Your other hand finding her waist to hold.
“So will I, y/n/n. I love you too.”
Jihyo pushed herself even deeper into your hold, enveloping you in a hug. You reciprocated her actions. Filling as many gaps between your bodies as you could.
The remaining fireworks shot upwards into a final explosion. Finally the ticking timer in your heart went off. Heart bursting alongside the lights in the sky.
Without hesitating you brought your lips to your lover’s. You emitted all the love you felt for Jihyo into the kiss. Your last kiss.
As the fireworks began to fade, you both pulled away. Jihyo brought her hands to yours. You stared down at the connected limbs. Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes. You willed yourself not to cry as you looked up. You wanted these last moments with Jihyo to be as clear as crystal.
The girl before you still glowed in the dark night. She looked stunning, angelic even, despite the tears in her eyes. Those round mesmerizing eyes held something scenic, a view filled with sadness and love. Far more captivating than any shooting star or firework show.
Thousands of unspoken thoughts were behind both of your eyes. Thoughts that you were able to comprehend without either of you having to voice them.
Jihyo gently let go of your hand, her fingers softly lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The inevitable end of the festival has come and so has the conclusion of your time.
You felt yourself wanting to reach out, to hold her hand tighter as her fingers began to slip away, a last attempt at grasping this fleeting moment that you wished could last forever. The look in her eyes pleaded for you to not make this any more difficult than it already was. A mixture of sadness and adoration. Your own gaze reflected Jihyo’s. A shared understanding; this parting, though painful, was necessary.
Jihyo was the first to speak.
“Goodbye, baby” she solemnly drawled.
“Goodbye, love” you returned.
Still rooted in the same spot, you watched the love of your life walk away. Tears now freely falling. Heart in ashes.
The night of fireworks is over.
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ivestas · 2 years
Note
Thank you for writing my request, I loved it!! I have another idea but it's a deeper subject so I understand not everyone is comfortable with writing about it. Could you write about a younger reader and the team see self harm wounds and scars while they were injured or while they were changing? (Something along those lines) and what they would do/ react? Xx
what is most precious to you?
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Summary: The 141 discover a part of you that you’d wanted to bury.
Tags: TW s/elf harm scars + sui/cide and talk of it, please read carefully/don't read if this topic triggers you, platonic!141 x medic!fem!reader, reader implied to be mentally ill, younger!reader, descriptions of blood and injury, canon typical violence, soap + ghost focused, unedited
Word count: 1.5k
Notes: im glad u enjoyed the previous req anon! i hope I'm able to do this req justice too 🫡
You’d been a part of the 141 long enough for the others to know and trust you.
An esteemed medic that knew medicine and all things fixing like the back of her hand, despite your age—it was a natural skill, it seemed. Your hands were always so damn fast with a gauze—hell, even a dirty rag you’d make use of in an instant. 
You were just good. Reliable. Consistent. Seemingly just a normal young lady whose only eccentricity was the job she chose to be: a medic for a merc group. 
Soap often liked to joke about that normalcy that clung onto you. 
“Bet when you’re on leave you work a 9 to 5 and sleep right at 8. I’m right, aren’t I?”
You snorted. “No, I’d sleep at 9.” 
“Ohhhhh, daring! Don’t be too crazy! Ya might just lose a leg!” 
Even Ghost would sometimes jump in, adding his own joke occasionally. 
“Should I get you a planner for your birthday? A nice, minimalist one with neutral stickers to match.”
You’d scoff and jab back, whether it be at Ghost’s mask or Soap’s current and past hair-styles.
But they never gave you a tough time about it—they were glad that one of them was able to blend back to civvy life with ease. 
Price even said it was his favorite trait—”sometimes, you need the practicality and mindset of a normal lady to get shit done.”
“Thanks?” 
The guys all had a similar image of what your childhood was like: middle-class, parents all stiff-like and old-timey, your favorite hobbies probably were things like football or reading, things like that. 
However, that image shattered during a post-mission intermission. 
Things went wrong, completely askew—the enemies were clearly prepared for the attack, because landmines were everywhere and the area was crawling with hostiles.
It was a resounding loss—many casualties, wounded, etc. 
You could hardly keep up, trying to patch up as many as possible, even when the sky rained of bullets and the air tasted thickly of gunpowder and death. It was like a place between purgatory and hell, a constant flow of shouts, screams, explosions.
It was too late for you to noticed a bullet grazed your arm; it was deep enough to be visible, but luckily it wasn’t aimed low enough for it to shoot into your arm. 
You had ignored the wound—in your mind, it only made sense to focus on the soldiers who were fighting for their lives and riddled with bullet wounds. 
So you just did that: focus on them. 
But, due to the constant movement and strain, the graze only worsened, almost tearing. The adrenaline numbed the pain, but you knew it was gonna hurt like a bitch soon enough. 
Luckily though, Ghost shouted in your ear through the comms. 
“Bravo-1, retreat!—fuckin’ hell—everyone, retreat!”  
You did just that—retreat. 
Huffing and puffing, you were quick to run to the distant chopper you recognized as the 141′s. A haze of sand was the only saving grace as it covered you from the enemies direct line of sight.
Soap pulled you into the helicopter with a quick grab of your wrist, completely unaware of the graze that arm sustained. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, feeling the skin tear just a little more. 
The entrance of the helicopter shut, and with both of you heaving, the plane finally shot back into the air, rocking back and forth the slightest bit. The sound of bullets slowly melted away into harsh whirring and mechanical buzz. 
You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling sharply before you got up, arm still bleeding. 
But, strangely, you felt it drip along your arm and into your hand, running along your finger—ah, it should’ve been obvious, the sleeve of your wounded arm had completely torn. 
You lifted the arm, examining the wound. 
Scars of varying sizes, textures, and freshness—some having strange bubbly dots, others consisting of messy lines. Some of the fresher scars had torn a little, causing thin lines or red to rise. 
Your blood ran cold. You glance up, hoping—praying—that Soap didn’t see, or even understand the implications. 
But you could see he was staring, the cogs in his mind slowly snapping together. 
You put your arm away to your side, hiding it from his view. 
“Lass—“
“I need a medkit. We have one on the plane?” 
You loathed the look of sadness, of pity that shone in his eyes, pulled at the muscles of his face. 
Don’t. Stop.
I’m not weak. Don’t—I’m not weak! 
A chorus of words, feelings, of palpable dark was what filled your mind now. Insecurity, self-hatred, all of it—you’d been working on it, trying to regulate, to reason with the miasma that had taken ahold of your consciousness.
But, fuck, you’ve revealed it to Soap of all people—he felt bad, didn’t he? Disgusted? Worried? He was gonna tell Price, wasn’t he? That your unfit for the 141, that—
A hand rested on the top of your shoulder.
“Can I patch you up?” Soap asked softly. 
You grit your teeth. Moving away from his hand, you shook your head, glaring at the floor. A small splatter of blood was there. “I can fix it myself.” 
You expected—wanted—him to berate you. 
But he didn’t. He was kind. 
“Sure, kid. I’ll just get ya the med kit—stay put.” 
Another wave of shame rocked you. You sat on one of the small seats connected to the walls of the heli, rubbing away the small bits of dried blood. 
Consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t hear Soap murmuring to Ghost. 
“The kid—she, ah...” He ran a finger along his wrist. “Catch my drift?” 
“Cutting herself?” Ghost said bluntly. 
“Sometimes I wish you had a little more tact, L.T.” 
Ghost ignored him. “They fresh or old?”
“Both,” he sighed, grabbing a med kit from one of the plane’s various compartments. “What’re we supposed to do? Don’t wanna scare off the kid, but don’t wanna leave her on her own devices hacking away at ‘erself!” 
Ghost grabbed the kit from his hands. “I’ll handle this. You sit down—go near the Captain. Try to leave us some privacy.” 
Hesitantly, Soap nodded. “Work your magic, sir.” 
Ghost made his way to the other end of the helicopter where you were. You were hunched over your wound, a deep frown on your face. It’s uncharacteristic, but he knew it was a part of yourself you’d prefer to be shrouded in dark. Suffering wasn’t a nice look, was it?
But it was human. Denying your own right to feel it—it made Ghost frown too.
He sat beside you, kit in his hand. You had finally looked up then, alarmed. 
“Gimme your arm, kid.” 
You opened your mouth.
“Not leavin’ till I patch your arm up, so don’t even try.” 
Shamefully, you lifted your arm slowly. 
He took it with gentle but firm hands, a thumb running along a faint scar. 
Ghost opened the kit haphazardly with another hand. 
“When I was your age—maybe a little younger—couldn’t find much meaning in everything.”
He lifted his hand from your arm and grabbed alcohol and a small cotton rag. Dampening the rag with alcohol, he drew it to your arm, rubbing away the excess blood and cleaning the wounds. You didn’t make any noise, only breathing raggedly. 
“The suffering was pointless, in my eyes; thought, ‘this isn’t bloody fair’. Born in a shitty house with a shitter father, food hardly ever on the table, my mind deteriorating, and the world cast in deep gray.”
You nodded. 
Ghost grabbed a bandage gauze, unravelling it and wrapping it gently around the graze and the scars. It was calming, watching him work away, even if the wrapping was a little clumsy. 
“The harsh reality came a little while later, and it’s that people like me—us—we gotta work hard for shit to change. That this weight forced upon us, it’s only we that can shed it off. It’s still not fair—frankly, suicide is easier. Thought of doing it for the longest time... But...” 
He shook his head. “In my eyes, it’s a coward’s way out. We should never die by our own hands—there’s always something to live for.”
“What are you living for?” 
“Mmmm.... For tomorrow’s pint.” 
You laughed. 
He grabbed a safety pin and pinned the end of the gauze. “...now, I know it’s ‘silly’ to say, but you know we’re here for you?—the 141′s got your back, kid—how about this, let’s make a deal.”
“Yeah?” 
“You ever have the urge to cut yer arm, you come straight to me, or the others. They’ll listen. They care.”
They care.  
It’s weird, but hearing the words said out loud, it hit you. 
They really care. 
You took in a shaky breath. “Thank... you.” 
“It’s no problem at all, kid. Stay strong.”
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wandering-feather · 1 year
Text
I’m Glad I Chose Nevermore
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Larissa Weems X Fem Reader
No minors!
Warnings: Smut. Oral and fingering. Angst. Comfort.
You arrived at Nermore as the Vice Principal. You had so much hope for the new job. But the Principal of Nevermore wants nothing to do with you.
Enemies to Lovers
Sitting at your desk in your office you frown at the email that you just received from the School Board of Nevermore. You have been the Vice Principal at Nevermore for 6 months and you're already getting in trouble. Not that it was entirely your fault. It all started when you applied for a teaching position at Nevermore. You wanted to get away from the city and decided to turn over a job at a prestigious school in New York City to teach students who you believed you could truly help. The board who gets the applications first decided to contact you directly and not pass the application to the Principal. With your experience they asked if you would be interested in a new position they were creating; the Vice Principal. They explained how the past year many things happened and that it would help the school out. You decided to accept the offer because again you believed you would be helping.
How wrong you were. The board had surprised the Principal, Larissa Weems just a few days before you were to arrive that you would be the new Vice Principal. You could remember your first time meeting her. You could tell she was tense and didn't like you. She didn’t even try to hide it. You knew she did not want you there. You also couldn’t help but see how beautiful she was. You could get lost in her eyes. When she stood you were blown away by her height, her long legs, and her figure. You had to quickly distract yourself from staring at her. You were pretty sure she saw though. She had shown you your office and quarters, handed you the keys and disappeared. That was most likely the longest conversation you ever had. At first you were so naive and thought with time she would come around. That was not the case though if anything it was getting worse.
You were always given meaningless work by her. Many binders of past budgets, curriculum, and whatever else Principal Weems could find littered your office. You felt that you never got anytime with students. Any of your ideas she would instantly shut down. You knew she was not going to stop until you quit. You began to feel hatred towards the woman which confused you because even when she was yelling at you, you couldn't help but to just want to kiss her bright red lips. It was the last straw of your already strained working relationship when she had offered to let you lead the next staff meeting. You thought maybe that things were finally moving the right direction. You prepped the material she gave you and was ready to finally show what you are capable of. However, you quickly learned she had tricked you and she gave you outdated information. You bit your bottom lip so hard as she explained in front of everyone that you should be better prepared for a meeting that she asked you to do over a week ago. You were humiliated, you were done and there was so much tension in the room that you could cut it with a knife.
Now staring at the email explaining that the board has heard of tension between you and Principal Weems. It went on to explain that there was an important meeting where she gave you a chance to show yourself and was not prepared. They were worried that you might not be working out with the current staff and causing issues. They were giving you 90 days to learn how to work with the staff at Nevermore or else they were going to find someone else. You took a deep breath and slammed your computer shut. Standing up you walk quickly out of your office to find the real root of the issue and you find yourself in front of the Principal’s office. You thought about just storming in but that would be unprofessional and get you nowhere. You knocked on the door maybe a little harder then you meant you heard the soft come in.
When you entered the office you saw her smile completely disappear.
“Can I help you, Vice Principal?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Principal Weems, you know why I am here. I’m sure the board has contacted you about me not getting along well at the school.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was you who contacted them”
You saw her smile, she wasn’t even going to deny it. You mentally kick yourself when you think about how you wanted to kiss her.
“It’s my job to look out for the students and this school and if I see an issue I try to fix it.” She was so smug.
“An issue you're causing.” You uncross your arms as she stands up and comes to stand in front of you.
“I would be very careful what you say next.” She sneers in your face.
You take a step back and shake your head. “No I’m done with being treated like someone who is doing something wrong. You have blocked me every time I tried to do something. You won’t even give me the chance to be something good for this school.” You could hear your voice getting louder.
“Maybe that’s because you are not needed here.” She simply said, turning her back to you looking towards the fire. You can see her facade dropping a little.
“I applied for a teaching job and they contacted me about this job. I was hesitant. I never planned to be in administration. I’m not here to take your job. We could have been good colleagues, maybe even friends.” You couldn’t help but think about maybe even more than friends.
Larissa stepped from the fire back in front of you, “you think I would want to be your friend?” She laughed in your face.
You were stunned you couldn’t speak. You didn’t understand how she could be so hateful with you. You watch her with her students and others. She’s so nice and so caring with them. It’s why you know she doesn’t mean these things. Or at least you hope she doesn’t. She’s just scared you're going to take her job.
“You are just miserable and lonely and want to make me feel that way also.” You didn’t mean it. But the words slipped out. You saw the look in her eyes. It was not just anger but hurt. She believed the words you said. You felt bad. This is not how you wanted it to go.
“Get out.” You were frozen in your spot. You knew you messed up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t…”
“Now” you jumped at the louder volume in her voice.
You quickly turned and excited her office. You felt your eyes begin to sting. You knew you shouldn’t have said that. You also knew that she was wrong with what she said. But the look in her eyes she truly believed what you said. You had to fix this. You walked towards your quarters and shut the door. The tears fell as you slid down the door. You should have just stayed in the city.
***
It has now been a month since your argument with Principal Weems. She only spoke to you when she had to. She also didn’t give you any meaningless work but she also didn’t give you anything to do. So you decided to take time and get to know the students. You talked to them, listened to their complaints and what they would see better for the school. You hated what you said to Principal Weems. You couldn’t help but notice she had withdrawn herself some. Today you set up a volleyball net you ordered to get some students outside for a beautiful day. Today was a perfect day with no classes and beautiful weather. You were teaching Enid how to serve and get it over the net when you looked up to see Larissa looking down at you. You could have sworn you saw a smile but now she had a stern look on her face. You couldn't look away. She looked so sad. You said something to her that she truly believed was true. You knew she was wrong for the way she treated you. But it seemed a fact that she was insecure and she felt threatened. You watch as she turns around and heads back into her office and a volleyball hits you in the head.
“I’m so sorry, Vice Principal.” Enid looked at you with scared eyes.
“Don’t worry about it Enid I wasn’t paying attention. Why don’t you all play for now. I have something I need to do.” You waved at them and headed to your quarters.
You showered and changed into some comfortable clothes. You headed to Principal Weems office and knocked. You heard the soft voice telling you to come in. You stepped into her office and found her in front of the fire sitting and sipping on wine.
“Oh it’s you. I thought you were out playing with the students.” She smirked at you.
“I was but I thought it would be time to apologize for what I said a while ago. I should have never said it.” You sighed seeing her take a sip of her wine not looking at you.
“Why apologize, you were only telling the truth.” Her voice sounded so broken. You hated seeing her like this no matter how you have been treated.
“That’s not true, I was upset. I just wanted to be useful for this school to help you. To help these students. I’m not your enemy Larissa.” You didn’t mean to let her first name slip. But sighed with relief when she just looked at you and shrugged.
“Well I don’t need any help. The school was just fine before you showed up.” She said taking a sip again.
“I’m sure it was.” You walked and stood in front of her. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to take your job away from you. I just want to help. I would like to be your friend. You don’t have to feel lonely.”
Larrisa didn’t say anything. This past month she has seen you in a new light. The way you were with the students. You took time to listen to them. To make sure they are okay. She knew what you were saying was true. She stood up and you took a step back. You swallowed. You knew you crossed a line.
“I’m sorry I…” before you could finish your sentence Larissa leaned down and crashed her lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and needy and you moaned into the kiss and gripped at her waist. She pulled back and you wimpred at the loss of touch. Before she could say anything you pushed her back in the chair and climbed into her lap straddling her and kissed her lips. She was surprised at first but wrapped her arms around your waist pulling you closer. You pulled back gasping for air looking into her eyes asking if she was okay with this. Her lips crashed against yours again as she licked your lips. You granted her access and you couldn’t help but buck your hips against hers. You felt her moan into the kiss and you knew you wanted to show her and give her attention. You pulled back and slid off the chair to your knees.
“Larissa I’m going to help you feel good.” You ran your hands up her creamy thighs pushing her dress up to around her waist. You could see her soaking in lacy underwear and smiling at her. You were giving her one last chance to tell you no. To push you away. When she lifted up some you took that as an okay and you hooked your fingers in her underwear sliding them down. You kissed on her thighs as you tossed the underwear to the side.
You looked up at her through hooded eyes. “Just relax Larissa, I got you.”
She nodded and you ran your tongue along her slit. You couldn’t help but moan against her mound at hearing her moan. You circled your tongue along her clit pressing pressure and sucking at the sensitive spot. You listened to her moans to guide you to what she wanted.
“Oh god yes right there don’t stop.” She panted out grabbing your hair pressing you closer to her. You wanted to give her more and slid two fingers inside her curling them. You could feel her thighs tighten around your head and you move your fingers faster. She was trying to muffle her moans as you sucked harder on her clit.
“I’m so close. Yes, just like that.” She cried out bucking her hip lightly against your face.
You looked up at her and pulled back still pumping your fingers. “Just let go Larissa.” You went back to giving attention to her clit. You didn’t want to take your eyes off of her. She was so beautiful right now. You could feel her clinch around your fingers as she cried out orgasiming. You lapped up her cum and slid your fingers out. Looking up at her you sucked your fingers cleaning her off them. She just looked at you with her mouth slightly opened trying to catch her breath.
“Do you feel better?” You asked standing up.
Larissa pushed her dress down. “Yes thank you.”
You smiled down at her sitting there and you wanted to reach out and touch her cheek but that was too intimate.
“It’s okay to let go of control sometimes.” You felt a little shy all of sudden. You wanted this to be about her but you needed to touch yourself to relieve yourself.
“Goodnight Larissa.” You said leaving her office.
You walked back to your room and closed the door. You don’t know if you made things worse. You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. But you enjoyed pleasuring Larissa. You wanted more and you hoped she did too. That night you laid in bed and touched yourself with the same fingers you had inside Larissa moaning her name.
***
Things ended up being a lot better between the two of you after that. You guys spent time together drinking wine in each other's offices. Most times it led to sex. It was rough and needy and felt amazing. You guys got to know each other and became friends. You wanted more but you felt she didn’t. Your 90 day review came and went and you still had your job. You felt like you were doing good for the school.
You were back in your own quarters after spending the evening with Larissa in her office. You could still feel her long fingers pumping inside you hard while she had you bent over her desk. It felt great but it also felt like it was missing something. You wanted to be touched and feel loved. You wanted something more than just sex. You wanted it to be more than just that. You wanted it to be more with Larissa. You felt the tears falling down your cheeks. You knew you had fallen in love with her. You knew when she apologized for how she treated you when you first arrived at Nevermore. However you were just a friend to her. Someone she could use for relaxation. It was just sex for her. You were torn. You needed to stop it for your own good but you didn’t think you could. You would take what you got.
The next night you were in her office as she poured you both a glass of wine. She sat down on the couch next to you handing you yours. She could tell something was wrong, you were quiet and reserved.
“Darling, are you going to tell me what’s got you so quiet tonight?” She asked, placing her hand on your thigh. She could feel you tense and pulled her hand back really concerned now.
“I’m sorry Larissa I guess I’m tired.” You lied. You knew she would see right through you.
“It seems to be more than that. We are friends, you can talk to me.” She said looking at you with concern in her eyes.
You couldn’t lie to her. You had to tell her. “Larissa, am I just sex to you?” You didn’t mean to come out so bluntly.
Larrisa looks at you confused, “no we are friends too. I thought I made that clear.”
You sighed and shook your head, “ no I get that but when we have sex…” you decided to just get to the point. “Larissa I know saying this could ruin everything but I have feelings for you. Feelings that’s beyond friendship. I…. I love you.” You couldn’t look at her, you knew you just messed it all up.
Larrisa just looked at you for a few seconds. “Darling, please look at me.”
You looked up at her and you didn’t see anger in her eyes. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Larissa looked in your eyes and could see the vulnerability in them. You were telling her how you feel laying it on the table. There was no doubt in your eyes. She never thought anyone would look at her like that. She had put up walls to not let her feel that way towards anyone. These past few months you helped build her up to become a stronger person and tear those walls down. You never doubted her even after the way she treated you. Here you sat in front of her, baring your soul and she felt her own heart swell.
“Come here.” She pulled you onto her lap and you straddled her. She ran her finger along your cheek. “Darling it’s more than sex. Let me show you.”
She stood up as you wrapped your legs around her waist and she carried you into her quarters. You had never been here before. You let her kiss you as she made it to her bed and laid you down gently. You looked up at her. Larissa climbed in the bed and on top of you. She kept kissing you and let her hands roam your body. You were lost in her touch and the way she was looking at you. She slowly undressed you, taking her time kissing on your skin. It took longer for you to lay naked underneath her as she let her hands roam your body.
You whimpered when she pulled away. “Patients my darling.”
You watched her as she began to undress herself. She wouldn’t let you help. You then watched as she took her hair down. You have never seen her hair down before she looked like an angel as her curls fell down her back. You reached for her as her lips crashed against yours and her naked skin was flushed up against yours. You have never felt this close to anyone. You spread your legs letting her lay in between them. You could feel her so close. You wanted this for so long. She kissed along your jaw moving her hand down your stomach and above your folds she slid a finger in between them smiling at your gasp. You close your eyes arching your back pressing yourself against her.
“Darling, open your eyes, please look at me.” She smiled when you opened your eyes.
“Larissa, please I need you.” You begged, finally getting your voice.
Larissa smiled again and slid two fingers inside you and moved them slowly. “Keep your eyes on me darling and listen to me.” She kissed your lips as you moaned and nodded.
“You are way more than just sex,” she spoke moving her fingers, “you have made me feel things I never thought I could.” She pressed her palm against your clit, smiling at you as you moaned. “I love you too.”
Your eyes keep looking at hers as she kisses you passionately. “I love you so much. You have made it possible for me to love.”
Her confession pushed you over the edge and you felt your whole body tremble underneath her as you came gripping at her shoulders. “Oh god Larissa, don't stop.” You needed more of her. You couldn’t get enough. You felt her fingers slide out of you and you whimpered as she put them in her mouth.
“You taste amazing.” You almost came again with her words. She began to kiss down your neck taking her time at your chest. She left open kisses along your stomach. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. She began to kiss on your thighs. Your breath caught in your chest as she buried herself in between your legs. She sucked on your clit before running her tongue down your slit and slid her tongue inside you. You put your hand in her hair moaning her name.
“Larissa oh god yes right there.” You arch your back catching her eyes. You could see the love. You were loved back by her and again you felt yourself being pushed over the edge. You kept your eyes on her and she licked you clean of your release. She kissed back up your body and kissed you passionately as you wrapped your arms around her neck.
“Do you still think it’s just sex darling?” She asked, smiling at you, moving some hair out of your face.
“No Larissa, that was amazing. I love you.” You smiled up at her still breathing heavily. Never in a million years did you think this is where you two would be when you first arrived at Nevermore.
Larissa smiles at you and pulls back pulling you into her arms as she laid back. You laid your head on her chest. “You want me to stay?” You asked.
“Of course.” She smiled down at you and you reached up kissing her lips.
“I’m glad I chose Nevermore.” You said as you felt her pull you closer.
“Me too darling.” She ran her fingers along your bare back as your eyes drifted close. She was thankful you didn’t give up on her, that you truly loved her for who she was. She closed her eyes, keeping a hold of you with never planning on letting you go.
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morgana-larkin · 6 months
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Me againnnn lmao I have another request could u do Melissa x reader where reader is normally quiet but someone brought up their special interest and everyone is kinda weirded out coz reader gets so happy and starts talking about it and sharing facts and stuff but no one except Melissa knows reader is autistic and someone says something mean to reader and she gets upset and Melissa comforts reader and also stands up for her (as always no pressure I’m so so so happy! u r the first person that iv come across who writes fics about Melissa and autistic reader I get so happy when I see a notification from u i literally jump up and down with happiness and your fics really help me to accept im autistic coz I’m still trying to come to terms with it anyway hope u r doing well🫶)
OMG YES! Info dumping! I love it. And I’m so glad my fics are helping you. Feel free as well to message me directly if you ever want. So my other obsession besides Lisa Ann Walter, is Doctor Who and Jodie Whittaker, so of course I chose to have the reader talk about her as the Doctor… I regret nothing 😊. I went a little extra at the end but I’m too gay for Melissa to care. Anyway, I enjoyed writing this so thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it! As always, not edited in the slightest.
For everyone, feel free to keep sending me prompts, and I was thinking about writing a one shot about Cheesy as there’s not enough imo. Let me know if I should or not.
Title based off the song from Shrek 3 and the Italian word stronzo means asshole.
Thank You for Letting Me Be Myself
Warnings: someone is mean to reader, reader struggling with having autism(small part)
Words: 2.3k
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You’re sitting in the break room at the table with Barb and Melissa. You get up to get a coffee and when you do you hear someone starting to talk about Doctor Who and you perk up.
You turn around to see Jacob, Mr. Morton and another teacher talking about it. “You guys watch Doctor Who?” You say and they stop talking and look up at you. Normally you’re quiet and don’t really say much as you’re recharging before you go and have to teach your kiddos again.
“Yes, do you watch it?” Jacob asks you and you nod with a big smile. Melissa looks up at you and sees your smile and she can’t help but smile herself. She’s had a crush on you since about 4 months after you started and it’s almost been 9 months that you’re working here.
“Well come here and share your thoughts about it.” Jacob says and you walk over to them, coffee in hand.
“What exactly is your discussion about?” You ask them.
“About the first female doctor, the 13th doctor.” Mr. Morton says and you keep smiling.
“She’s my favourite doctor! Like she’s so enthusiastic and passionate and she just loves everything about what she does! And she’s so funny too, it’s just a joy to watch Jodie play her!” You start and they look at you confused, wondering why you’ve always been quiet but now you’re talkative.
The truth is, you're autistic and the only one that knows is Melissa and she promised not to tell anyone since it’s your secret not hers. You told her because you felt like you kept missing social cues or taking things too literally, so you wanted someone in your corner to help you and she had no problem doing that for you. She looks at you talking so passionately about your favourite show with a smile and heart eyes before going back to her phone, secretly still listening to you.
“And her Tardis is so amazing, oh and her companion’s compliment her so well, and her outfit looks amazing. Did you know that Jodie helped decide on the outfit to support the LGBTQ community since she’s a huge ally. And also…” and you keep going on for about 5 minutes about how much you love the 13th doctor and her era on Doctor Who. Until the other teacher, you don’t know their name, the one Mr. Morton and Jacob were talking too, says something.
“OMG! Would you please shut up!” He says and you quickly shut your mouth. “I preferred it when you didn’t speak at all.” He says, glaring at you. And you look down at the ground, embarrassed before running out of there.
Melissa looked up when he started speaking and is now getting up and walking over to them. “Hey! Don’t talk to her like that. You should count yourself lucky that I won’t contact one of my guys on you.” She says and looks at Jacob. “Why didn’t you say anything?!?” She says to him “or you?” She says to Mr. Morton.
“Sorry Melissa, it all happened so fast.” Mr. Morton says and Jacob nods in agreement.
“You should be ashamed of yourself!” She says to the teacher that was mean to you.
“Hey, we were just sitting here talking about it until she cuts in and starts talking about everything that we weren’t even discussing. And she wouldn’t stop talking.” The teacher says , only making a deeper hole for himself. Melissa glares at him.
“I don’t care what you think! There’s better ways to do that!” She says to him.
“She shouldn’t have talked so much and knew that it was too much.” He says, still trying to defend himself.
“She’s autistic you stronzo!” She yells at him and then realises that she just told your secret and has wide eyes. All 3 of them look at her speechless, now understanding that you got excited and were info dumping and didn’t mean to talk so much. Melissa turns around and walks out of the break room and goes to find you.
She ends up finding you in your classroom crying on your chair, hugging your legs. She knocks on the door, “hey y/n it’s me, just wanted to come check on you.” She tells you.
You get up and unlock the door then open it. Melissa’s heart breaks a bit when she sees you. Eyes puffy, red and watery, tear stained cheeks and red nose from you blowing your nose.
“Oh hun.” She says and you walk back to your chair hugging your legs again. Melissa walks in and closes and locks the door then walks over to your desk. “Hey, he was an ass, he shouldn’t have said that to you.” Melissa tells you and crouches down and you look at her.
“No, he’s right, I was talking too much. I shouldn’t have gotten involved in their conversation. I just got so excited,” you tell her and you sniffle a bit.
“Hun, it’s understandable, I know how much you love Doctor Who. You have nothing to be ashamed about.” She tells you and grabs your hand. “Btw I might have accidentally told them that you’re autistic. As in I told them and called that teacher a stronzo for you.” She tells you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to slip out, I just got angry that he was mean to you.” She says, rubbing your hand with her thumb.
“It’s ok, they would have found out eventually. But this is another reason I don’t engage in conversations, cause I might talk too much.” You tell her. Melissa gets up and opens her arms out.
“Come here.” She tells you and motions to hug her. You put your feet down on the ground and then hug her waist since you’re still sitting in your chair. “Why don’t we go back in there, finish lunch. And then after school you can come to my place and I can make you some food and we can watch whatever you want.” She suggests and you look at her surprised.
“Really?” You ask her and she nods. “I would love that.” You tell her and she smiles. She helps you up and then unlocks the door and opens it for you. You both walk out and she sees you’re nervous about going back. She puts an arm wrapped around your back and her other hand on the arm closes to her and rubs it, providing comfort for you.
You get back in and when you enter everyone stops and looks up at you. Melissa can feel you immediately tense up. “What are all youse looking at?” She says and glares at everyone. Everyone immediately looks back down to their phone or food and continues what they were doing. Melissa leads you back to the table where Barb is and Barb gives you a comforting smile.
The teacher that was mean to you gets up and comes over to you. Melissa sees him coming over and glares at him, almost daring him to hurt you again. He has his head hanging a bit, looking embarrassed and stands beside you and you look up at him.
“Hey y/n, I just wanted to apologize to you. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, I’m sorry.” He tells you and you nod your head at him. You’re too overwhelmed right now and can’t speak. You finish your lunch without saying another word and Melissa keeps glancing at you, worried about you.
You finish up the day quietly. You get the kids to work on their book report so that it’s silent and you don’t have to talk much. At the end of the day, when your last student was picked up you glance over at Melissa down the hall. You taught first grade so your classrooms are close together.
You can’t help but stare at her. She’s bending over and offering one of her students a high five before waving bye to them to go with their parent. You decide to leave now while she’s distracted, you think that maybe it wasn’t the best to get Melissa involved in your situation and shouldn’t have told her you’re autistic. So many people have had to accommodate you or help you and you feel like you should be able to do it yourself now that you’re an adult.
Melissa sees you look at her with a sad expression on your face before leaving. She can’t help but feel like maybe you won’t come over to her place now. When her last student is leaving with their parent a couple minutes later, she practically books it to the parking lot but sees your car is already gone.
She drives home and gets to work on cooking dinner, hoping you’d show. But then she gets a text from you saying that you won’t be able to make it tonight, and she sighs. She researched autism when you told her a few months ago and she knows that when autistic people get overwhelmed, they hide themselves away. She offered for you to come to her place to de-stress with food and tv, so she does the next best thing. After she finished cooking, she packed it into a container, and brought it with her to your place. She went and knocked on your door.
You answered it not too long later with leggings and loose shirt on. “Melissa? What are you doing here?” You ask her.
“Well since you won’t come over to my place, I thought I’d come to you.” She says with a warm smile and you now feel even more guilty for cancelling on her. “I brought over food I made. So either we can eat here or we can go back to my place. Choice is up to you.” She tells you with a shrug. You decide to go to her place and when you get there she gives you your favourite hoodie of hers and you sit on the couch. You’ve been to her place before and you told her that the plastic felt weird to sit on and she removed it the next day so that you’re comfortable when you go there. “Hey, you don’t have to speak but I just want to know that you’re ok.” She says and you nod. She gives you a plate of the food and you see that it’s her spaghetti and meatballs dish. Your favourite food of hers and you smile at her. She joins you on the couch, sitting next to you and then hands you the remote so you can decide what to watch, you decide on Shrek 3.
You watch the movie while eating, with Melissa right next to you, you in her hoodie, and you finally feel like you’re calming down. You put your head on her shoulder after you put your empty plate on the coffee table and she wraps her arm around you. You continue the movie, quoting some of the lines, and when it plays the ending scene with puss and donkey singing thank you, Melissa gets an idea. She guides you up and leads you to the empty space beside her couch and starts dancing with you. When the chorus comes on she sings it to you “I wanna thank you for lettin me be myself…again” She sings and you laugh. When she says the line again, she spins you while singing. The second chorus comes up “come on sing it with me.” She tells you.
The both of you sing it while dancing “I WANNA THANK YOU FOR LETTIN ME BE MYSELF…AGAIN.” You both sing at the top of your lungs. When it ends you’re both laughing and she hugs you.
“Thank you for letting me be myself.” You tell her and she looks at you with a warm smile and places a lock of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek.
“It’s not a problem hun, it doesn’t matter to me that you’re autistic you know. You just think differently, and that's alright.”
You look in her eyes and you lean forward and kiss her. Melissa kisses you back and moves her hand from your cheek to the back of your head and places her left hand on your waist. You pull back and look at her with a smile.
“You kissed me back.” You say to her and she nods. “Why?”
“Because I like you. I have for a few months now.” She tells you.
“For how long?” You ask her and she thinks about it.
“Around the new year.” And you look at her in shock.
“But that’s after I told you I was autistic.” You tell her, putting the pieces together. “You knew I was autistic and you still like me?” You question her.
“How would you being autistic make me not like you?” She asks you, confused.
“Because I’m different than other people and have struggles because of it.” You tell her like it’s obvious.
“So? Everyone is different in their own way and everyone has their own struggles.” She tells you. “For example, I have trouble letting people in, because of trust issues. And I can have a short temper too.” She says and you look at her with so much love in your eyes. You kiss her again and she doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back.
When the person says “you may kiss the bride” , she doesn’t hesitate to give you a kiss then either. With a huge smile, she brings you closer to her and gives you a kiss, as wife and wife.
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slavicviking · 1 year
Text
Long Jump, Huge Leap
wc: 5k | Pre-Season 3 steddie
[Ao3]
Whoever said Eddie Munson doesn’t like sports is wrong.
One can dislike a candy bar, a type of soda, a likewise mundane thing that comes down to preferences. No, no. What Eddie Munson feels towards sports cannot be condensed into such a simple term. His body itself outright refuses to take part in any sport activity – sweat immediately pooling at his pits and back and ass, legs acting disjointed, arms too long and too weak to do anything of significance, except for maybe making a fool of himself. With that particular element of his P.E. experience helps his mouth which, funnily enough, is the only part of Eddie that runs quicker than anyone, especially its owner, can catch up. Not that the rest of his group feels exceptionally impressed with the skill presented.
Hawkins High doesn’t need a furry mascot for laugh-inducing entertainment when it has Eddie Munson.
“Munson, you’re in Hagan’s team.”
“Oh, for fuck’s-“
“Do not fret, little ol’ Thomas, I sincerely vouch to not dare touch the balls you play with-“
And as the usual song and dance goes, the ball is thrust directly into his stomach.
Several bruises left on his body and ego later Eddie decides it’s simply not worth it, he skips P.E. entirely – avoids it as if it were the ninth circle of Hell. It may as well be, he thinks. Uncle Wayne seems persistent to convince Eddie to try again but after a long and, frankly tiring, conversation the subject is dropped.
Until now.
Eddie stretches out his legs in front of him, the uncomfortable plastic chair digging into his spine and reshaping his already barely-there ass into a flat tire. It’s psychological warfare, it must be, because how else can one explain furniture that defies its primary function so well. Principal Higgins knew well what she did when she chose them to be placed in front of her office. Her own personal little torture chamber.
“The Principal is ready to see you now, Mr. Munson,” the secretary, a pretty blonde in her twenties, tries to smile at him but all that comes out as a result is a grimace stretched thin over her face. It dims further when Eddie stands up making the most noise he possibly could have with the chair sliding across the parquet.
“Sorry,” he says because he is actually sorry. For all his bold persona and jumping on tables, he hates the idea of bothering someone who absolutely does not deserve it. The secretary is nice, he can say that with confidence he’s gained over sitting in that damned red plastic chair too many times to bother counting. He also knows he can be a lot when seated in it – constantly twitching and shifting, mind all too self-aware of the pre-attached uncoordinated body.
Principal Higgins doesn’t look pleased to see him but when does she ever? Eddie personally believes they see each other often enough to be on first-name basis, or at least have this unspoken camaraderie between each other. He thinks the name Margaret would fit her. Tiffany? The only obstacle of their everlasting friendship he can think of is the boundless hatred she has for him. And he has for her.
“Mr. Munson, I’m glad you could join us,” she says, voice syrupy-sweet, so much so it clogs Eddie’s ears for a moment. She has a maroon sweater on today and Eddie thinks it complements the stark bags under her eyes very well. A white blouse ironed to the bone peeks out from underneath it, sleeves rolled up. It’s then that he notices Coach Collins sitting in the chair usually reserved for the culprit’s legal guardian. This is not a usual part of their – Higgins’ and Eddie’s – routine and so it throws him out of the loop a little.
“Please sit,” Higgins points to the only empty seat in her office. Eddie is glad, for what’s it worth, that the chairs here are leagues better than whatever monstrosity his ass still feels the imprint of awaits in the waiting room.
“It wasn’t me,” Eddie says what he always does as he sits down. The Principal doesn’t look any more or less impressed with the line than usual, only letting out a silent sigh.
“Mr. Munson, your attendance ratio in Mr. Collins’ class is abhorrent.”
 Ah. Rough and straight to the point, just the way he likes it.
“I might have missed… a couple of days,” Eddie admits, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. His eyes roam the intricate designs on the carpet. Surprisingly enough they look exactly the same as the last time he’s seen them.
“More like a whole semester, son,” Coach finally decides to take part in this excruciating exchange.
“Normally that amount of missed classes is enough to fail the grade but Mr. Collins was considerate enough to offer you a deal,” Higgins pointedly stares Eddie down as if wanting to force him to slide down to his knees and thank the Coach for the opportunity. As if ‘Mr. Collins’ didn’t turn his head at all the harassment Eddie has faced in his class to begin with.
“Uh-huh.”
“Sport’s Day is coming up. We’d like you to join us this year, Mr. Munson,” she adds, implying she very much would not like him to be there at all but some predestined script requires it. “I believe some teamwork could do you good.”
Yes. Because being stuck with the school’s entire jock population on the football field is somehow better than ten or so of them in a P.E. class. He’s going to die, for sure .
The thing is, he knows they are giving him an excellent out. Sport’s Day is sort-of mandatory, though he’s only attended it once himself. It’s a big event for the school that, in theory, is a great opportunity to let a bit loose and get to know each other. Except, as it often is, a certain part of the Hawkins High population deems themselves as better than others and what should be all fun and games turns puckingly nerve-wracking if you dare to not be pristinely perfect and screw up. Eddie had one attempt in 1982 and hasn’t stick in a foot or arm onto school grounds that day ever since.
“Right,” he says in the end, voice a little strangled. They both clearly take it as him agreeing and, well, he doesn’t really have a choice, does he? Unless he wants to repeat Senior Year again.
He doesn’t.
He really, really doesn’t.
So one full day of excruciating pain it is.
-&-
It’s hot as fucking balls.
The event hasn’t started yet but Eddie can already feel the sweat pooling all over his body. Students stand in small groups all around the yard and it takes him a long while before he spots the Corroded Coffin.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Eddie Munson?”
“Yeah, yeah, yack it up,” he rolls his eyes at Jeff, eyes scanning the area for a semi-hidden smoking spot and finding none. It’s too risky, anyway. He lifts the hem of his shirt to fan himself. “Not like I had a choice.”
They all know about the quote unquote ‘olive branch’ handed out to him by the school but he can feel they’re surprised he decided to follow through with the spectacle anyway.
A long queue forms in the middle of the court, Coach Collins and Jenkins right at the top of it all along with Principle Higgins, each with a jar filled with differently colored strips of material in their hands. Even with no say in the matter, Eddie feels his hand sweating the closer he gets to the harbinger of his doom. Soon enough he will know who is going to make his life hell the next ten or so hours.
“Team yellow,” Collins tells him and gives him the appropriately colored ribbon. Eddie does a apathetic ‘woohoo’ with it before sliding off the side where his new team members reside. He ties the material loosely around his neck because he lives to disrupt the norm. Because fuck Collins.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to go there, dude,” Hawkins’ personal eye-candy, Steve Harrington, tells him upon arrival. Even in this horrid damp weather he keeps smiling for some unknown reason, no strand of hair out of place. He has his basketball uniform on – a simple gray shirt and, oh God, tiny shorts that expose those legs- Eddie snaps his head up so fast he’s surprised it hasn’t cracked and rolled off yet. Perhaps that would be the more merciful solution. A yellow ribbon is residing around Harrington’s sun-kissed bicep.
Great.
“Yeah, well, I’m not a great fan of rules,” he bites, hoping Harrington will just leave him be.
“I know. It’s your whole shtick.” So. That’s a no. Harrington shrugs.
“But sometimes rules are there for a reason,” he says and hooks his finger under the ribbon around Eddie’s neck to tug at it lightly. “To, like, not die.”
However eloquently phrased, Eddie begrudgingly admits – to himself, in his head, never out loud – that there might be a good point hidden somewhere underneath all that hair spray. He wonders if it were Hagan in Harrington’s place would there be a more hands-on approach to this warning. With Eddie being left strangled.
Quite possibly.
He’s not going to test that theory.
“Whatever his majesty wants,” Eddie says as he dutifully unties the yellow ribbon from his neck. And because he never knows when to shut up, he adds, “You don’t have to pretend to be nice, dude. I know me being in your team, like, disrupts your mojo, or whatever.”
Harrington is noticeably not smiling anymore. He doesn’t cross his arms though it looks like he really wants to. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows. It should not be attractive but, alas, Eddie is but a weak man.
“It’s supposed to be fun, man.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Eddie ends up mumbling, feeling out of energy all of a sudden. The queue of students doesn’t seem to be getting any shorter, not that it matters much because all his friends have been scattered throughout all the other teams. He moves to sit on the grass at the edge of their little Yellow group, legs spread out in front of him. The grass is dry under his palms as he leans back, and he wishes he could light an inconspicuous smoke. Even more so when a body slams into him.
“Jesus Christ, what the f-“
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” a girl yelps. “I was trying to tie my shoe but I have, like, no coordination so I kind of fell over you? I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry. Balancing on one leg is so much harder than it looks. Like, honestly, how do cheerleaders even do that thing where they-“
“Whoa, hey, it’s fine,” Eddie jumps in before the girl – Robin Buckley, turns out – faints from lack of air. A yellow ribbon hangs limply off her wrist. Maybe it makes him a bad person but there is a sense of relief knowing he will not be the only ‘uncoordinated’ one on the team. Harrington is going to have an aneurysm for sure.
Robin blinks down at him, lips pulling down in a frown. “Oh, it’s you.”
Okay? Mean.
“Yes?” Whatever imaginary comradery Eddie hoped for seems off the table all of a sudden. Well, that’s a bummer. “Why the long face? Not happy to see a fellow nerd on the team?”
“You stepped on my sandwich last week.”
Ah. Well. That would do it, he supposes. The lunch break speeches… they sometimes get a little intense. Eddie gets a little intense, is what the rest of the Hellfire Club would probably say. Eddie’s shoes have been known to slam face – sole? – first into the best of what the Hawkins High cafeteria had to offer; which is not saying much, to be completely honest.
“My humble apologies,” he tries a little bow and hopes it comes off sincere. Buckley looks less than convinced. Tough crowd, what can he say?
“Alrighty, I think that’s all of us,” Harrington’s overly cheery voice thunders somewhere from above him and Eddie, like a moth drawn to a flame, has no other option but to look up. With his hands power-posed strategically onto his sinfully slim waist and the sun positioned perfectly behind him, Steve Harrington seems to have taken it upon himself to alter Eddie’s brain chemistry, braincells leaving left and right, leaking right through his ears, never to be seen again.
“You’re drooling,” Robin’s monotone informs him from his right and he promptly slams his mouth shut, even though he knows the claim is wildly exaggerated. Buckley may be the best or the worst person he’s ever met – he desperately needs to befriend her.
“First up is the relay-race. We need four people. Anyone up?”
Harrington is met with painful silence and that does dim the cheery smile a little bit. Eddie wonders if that is where the famous King Steve comes out of the hiding, all scary sharp teeth and disregard of basic human decency. He himself stills, for once not wanting to draw any attention to himself, feeling like a student who doesn’t know the correct answer which, not to brag, if you asked Higgins or any other teacher in Hawkins High, is something Eddie excels in. Curiosity, though, is a fickle thing and he’s fallen victim to it more times than he can count, and so when the uncomfortable silence drowns on, Eddie can’t help but take a look around to meet the Team Yellow, so to speak.
Fred Benson peers at him from his thick glasses. A group of scared freshman cower together. There’s a couple of band kids other than Robin Buckley who forgone glaring at the back of Eddie’s head in order to chew on her lip nervously and stare at the ground. Not a jock in sight.
Steve Harrington couldn’t have landed a worse team if he tried. Surprisingly he doesn’t look like he’s about to piss himself over it. Huh.
“Alright, well. I volunteer myself then,” he raises his hand. “That leaves three. Hm? Come on, it’s gonna be fun!”
Eddie can’t help it. He snorts. It’s loud and ugly.
“Well, I guess we have another volunteer,” Harrington preens and Eddie has to see who is idiotic enough to- It’s him, isn’t it? Harrington pulled out the classic teacher move and Eddie fell right into the trap.
“You do not want that, Harrington,” he tells him, trying his best not to show how much the intense eye contact from the jock affects him. It does not. It affects him even less when Steve juts out his bottom lip and tilts his head to the side like a goddamn Golden Retriever.
“Why not?”
“You’re going to lose?”
“It’s not about winning, it’s about teamwork,” Harrington trudges on stubbornly, sounding eerily sincere even while basically quoting every fake-cheery pamphlet in existence. It doesn’t matter how much Eddie tries to convince him it’s a bad idea – a terrible, awful, horrible idea – he doesn’t budge an inch like the stubborn asshole that he is.
“I’ll go last,” he informs Eddie and the other two unfortunate ‘volunteers’ once they reach the track.
“Hey, Harrington,” cuts a familiar voice and there’s Hagan suddenly all up Harrington’s business. “Ready to lose?”
To his credit, all Steve does is raise one eyebrow. “Did Hargrove tell you to come here, or what?”
Eddie appreciates balls on a man, literally and metaphorically, so this cheery but assertive combo is doing things to him that he is not proud of. There is a reason he avoided Steve Harrington for most of high school, and it wasn’t only because of the King Steve jock persona. Eddie may not have a good taste in men but he does have eyes.
“Whatever, man,” Hagan finishes off their little pissing contest in the meantime, strutting right back to Billy, both arms adored by blue ribbons. Harrington’s nostrils flare with each breath before he closes his eyes for a second.  
Eddie isn’t known to make wise choices. One would argue bad decisions run in his blood, screwing things up his very own a generational pattern.
“Uh, you okay, man?”
Harrington’s eyes snap open. Eddie should have never opened his mouth. With Harrington’s intense eyes on him, he feels like Icarus, flying too close to the sun. Steve smiles. Eddie is going to crush and burn any minute now.
“Yeah, sorry,” he keeps his voice light but there’s underlying tension that hasn’t been there before. His eyes appear almost glazed over when he looks over to Billy Hargrove. Eddie’s gut-instinct wants to pin the strange interaction on some jock-code that he is simply not familiar with but that’s not all there is to it. Eddie has fallen victim to the rumor mill many a time during his prolonged high school career and so he tries not to lean into them too much, even when the juicy news of a fight between the former and new king of Hawkins High broke out. One look at Harrington now and he knows, deep down, the impressive shiner on Steve’s face last fall has truthfully been Hargrove’s doing.
Doesn’t matter, really, because Harrington, emanating a true father-at-vacation energy, claps his hands together with too much enthusiasm. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”
Getting the show on the road, so to speak, is Abby, a freshman, who does not at all look very confident. Eddie cannot, for a fact, tell if the time passes too fast or too slow as the whistle toots and Abby is on the go, then Nigel, and then-
Eddie leans forward, bends his knees. Suddenly there’s a weight in his hand. Someone is screaming for him to ‘ go, go, go’ !
And Eddie does what he does best. He runs.
By the halfway point, his lungs are on fire, his legs feel like jello. His hair flies out of his bun and he can barely see but, he muses, he might as well try and actually finish something for once. And it’s not because Steve Harrington happens to be waiting on the other side. But maybe that’s a bonus. Who can tell?
The second his hand touches Harrington’s and passes on the stick, his legs give out from underneath him and he falls on his ass with a deeply unsatisfying thunk .
“Nice job, Munson,” says a blurry hand with a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” he says, or tries to, though it comes out slurred. A big swing of water helps.
“You okay?” Robin leans over him before taking a whiff of L’eau d’Eddie and promptly taking an out.
“Aw, I knew you cared, Buckley.”
“I just don’t want you to hurl all over my shoes,” she simply says.
Somehow they are not last. Eddie doesn’t know whether he helped at all or is it simply the power of Steve Harrington’s godlike legs that did all the heavy-lifting, but they finish off in second place, right after Hagan.
Eddie would never admit it out loud, not under threats of death, but it was…kind of fun. Satisfying.
“Eddie, you were amazing!” Harrington runs up to him, sweat pooling over his forehead and neck and Eddie has to stop himself from offering to lick it off.
“Hu-?”
“You never mentioned you’re this fast!”
“Because I’m not? Have you hit your head on the way here, or-?”
Something weird happens with Harrington’s face for a split second but it’s so quick Eddie doesn’t have the time to properly analyze it before he’s smiling again.  
“Not this time, no,” he forces a chuckle. “But you had fun, right?”
Eddie sighs, flops down on the ground to make it extra dramatic. Eyes closed, he reaches out with his hand to make a tiny gap between his index finger and thumb. “Maybe a little.”
A small laugh rings above him, this time genuine, and he hates how he can feel a lazy grin tug at his lips.
Eddie misses at least one round while he lays on the grass. It’s a blissful fifteen-thirty-forty minutes and he revels in it with every whiff of a colder breeze but by minute forty-two the ground doesn’t seem nearly as comfortable as it used to right after the race. The sun assaults his eyes the moment he opens them and he swiftly sits up, trying to shake off loose twigs and dry grass that have gotten entangled with his hair.
Team Yellow has seen better days. While Eddie lounged in the grass they have become a mass of sweat and red heat-swollen cheeks. Whatever disciplines he’s missed, he is glad he has. They are not last on the leaderboard, though – by what miracle, he cannot figure out.
“Eddie!” Steve Harrington, of course, has been spared the same treatment as his team. Hair slightly whipped by the wind and rosy cheeks, he looks as though he just about stepped out of a salon. A tattered yellow-white-blue volleyball sits against his hip. “Just the guy I was looking for. You willing to give it a try?”
Eddie is not.
Not under any normal-adjacent circumstances anyway but Harrington is, consciously or not, giving him his best rendition of puppy eyes. That and Eddie can feel a heated gaze located on the back of his head coming coach’s way. No matter how tempting, he cannot afford to screw this up.
So, in the driest monotone he can muster, Eddie says, “Been waitin’ for that my whole life.”
“Cool,” is all Harrington says before his achingly warm fingers wrap themselves around Eddie’s wrist and tug him towards the court. Buckley is already standing by the net, sending Eddie a miniscule smile of encouragement when he settles on her left, Harrington just behind him.
“Was worried you were a goner by now,” Gareth calls from the other side of the net, a green ribbon tied to his wrist.
“Nah, you know me, Gare-bear,” he flexes his non-existent biceps. “I'm prime material for the next super athlete.”
Someone – Harrington – chokes and coughs behind him. Eddie refuses to look, contribute to the hot and sticky flush of embarrassment that settles over his organs like slime. He has a reputation to uphold, though, so when Gareth raises his eyebrow, silently asking if he is okay – in this team, with King Steve, here and now – Eddie simply rolls his eyes and conspicuously whispers ‘Little Miss Primadonna’, their little nickname for King Steve back in the day.
He doesn’t like how instead of feeling lighter he just feels sick afterwards.
A resounding whistle starts the first set.
Eddie has forgotten how violent and competitive volleyball can get. He jumps away every time the ball comes anywhere near him, Harrington’s sweaty body miraculously appearing right there and then to save the day. It’s maybe the first time today that he can see blips of annoyance on the jock’s face but then as soon as it appears it smooths out and Steve graces him with yet another smile.
“You don’t have to be afraid of the ball,” Harrington off-handedly tells him in-between sets.
“Yeah, well, you tend to start feeling a little bit wary about it after you’ve been hit in the face a few times,” Eddie can’t help but bite back. Harrington looks sad all of a sudden, as though his friends haven’t been the ones to attempt their best at making Eddie’s face concave. He can’t help but yelp when a hairy mass – Steve’s arm – settles over his back and shoulders.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Harrington teases but there’s a sincere note in his voice. “I won’t let any balls come near you.”
Harrington – blessed, innocent, Harrington – is thankfully too straight to realize the innuendo he accidentally made but Eddie is most definitely not, face red as he mumbles under his breath ‘I mean, some balls are fine.”
Thankfully he does not hear that either.
Steve keeps his promise with surprising accuracy; no volleyball flies anywhere near Eddie and Harrington is always close by. Which should not bring as much comfort to him as it does. Especially considering Eddie still is unable to figure out why – why is Harrington this nice? Why does he care about Eddie at all? Part of him worries it’s all an act, a grand performance by one King Steve, with a grand finale that promises pain and humiliation right at the crescendo.
Nothing happens.
Well, they lose. Spectacularly. One game, then another, then a third one.
Amid this disaster and despite them being the singularly least athletic team possible, Steve Harrington remains an encouraging and patient captain. Not once does he yell or complain when the majority of the team scrambles away from the ball instead of towards it. Surprising, when Harrington has spent years under the wing of Coach Daniels as the Hawkins High very own basketball team captain.
“You’re good at this,” Eddie thinks out loud, promptly pursing his lips because he did not mean to actually say it. It is in particularly bad self-preservation taste to give a jock more ammo.
“I promised,” is all Steve says with a wink. And for a second, a blink-and-you-miss-it, his eyes go up and down along Eddie’s body, and- But that’s impossible. Harrington is not- He wouldn’t have-
It’s a preposterous cherry on the wild-buck cake he’s been offered today. There must have been a ball hurled his way at one point or another, punching him into another dimension that is similar enough yet decidedly feels a little bit off at every step. He’s rooted in his spot like the idiot that he is. What finally breaks him from the self-induced coma is what caused it in the first place - his ears catch the melodic tune of a Harrington laugh and, just like that, from feet above the ground he falls back to Earth, popping like a balloon with a gun.
For all Buckley piss-poor attempts at appearing done with it all, she sure looks chummy with Steve Harrington all of a sudden, and he does with her as well. It was foolish, stupidly childish, to assume the jock’s attention was for Eddie and Eddie alone.
Harrington pulling out his patented charm with Buckley the same way he did a second ago with Eddie feels like a light stab in his chest. What twists it is them looking Eddie’s way, red cheeks and mirth in their eyes, and letting out a short but audible laugh.
“I’m telling you, dingus.”
 “God, shut up,” but Harrington laughs as he says it, even when he elbows Robin right in the boob.
Dead-set on keeping his eyes on the ground, Eddie tries to move past them. He doesn’t get far.
“Hey, Eddie, I’m trying to convince Robin to go for tug of war,” Harrington tells him for some fucking reason.
“No way, dingus.”
“She’s stronger than she looks,” he adds, poking Buckley in the bicep-less arm. “From carrying that tuba around.”
“Trumpet.”
I haul up the amp at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie wants to say – would that impress you?
He’s pathetic. He’s fallen from the high pedestal he self-appointed himself at – above the bullshit popularity contest and suffocating do’s and don’ts of small-town’s high school lore – right at the feet of the walking and breathing representation of everything he resents about how the world works, and-
“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles.
A good smoke is exactly what Eddie needs right now. Fill his being with nothing but puffs of smoke. Students and teachers and even some parents roam around the school grounds but his trusty spot behind the gym is free of the intruders. Two cigarettes in, he refuses to feel sorry for himself any longer.
He’s not going to dwell on something that was a pipe dream to begin with. Not too long anyway. Whatever. He’s fine.
He is .
Steve seems wary of him when he gets back but he brushes it off as well as he can and gets in line behind Fred Benson instead. It’s long jump time.
“Robin’s pretty cool, right?” comes a voice behind him. Eddie yelps.
“Jesus Christ, warn a guy.”
Steve has the audacity to look a little sheepish, hand going to scratch at the back of his neck. “Sorry, man.”
Silence.
“Turns out we have some things in common,” he says, then. And stares. For a long time.
“Okay?”
What does he want Eddie to say? You have my blessing? Congrats?
Steve looks slightly discouraged from continuing his ventures but seems willing to trudge on, for whatever reason. “Maybe-“
“Munson, you’re up!”
Oh, thank God .
Eddie may not be the fastest or the strongest but he has years of avoiding bullies under his belt. That is to say, if he wants to avoid someone, he will find a way to become, well, not invisible, but unreachable at the least. It does not help that at this point he understands Harrington’s newfound obsession with him even less. Maybe for a second Eddie could have thought that – well, that doesn’t matter.  
By hour eight and with only one event left, Eddie feels pretty confident he’s going to survive the whole thing after all and not even be on the losing team somehow. That is until Coach Jenkins announces the farewell match.
“Dodgeball! Yellow against blue,” and whistles loud and clear, no room for complaints.
It all goes surprisingly well until it doesn’t. Until there’s a ball flying his way. Until he faceplants into next week.
Of course it’s Steve Harrington who insists on patching him up in the nurse’s office. “I’m the captain,” he says before anyone else can offer. Not that they were people scrambling to do so, really.
“I’m sorry,” Harrington adds when an icepack settles on the side of Eddie’s head once they arrive.
“What for? ‘Far as I can tell it wasn’t you who threw that,” Eddie narrows his eyes. “Right?”
“No, of course not, Eddie, I would never-“ Steve stops himself and Eddie wants so badly to point out that he ‘would ever’, in fact he ‘did ever’, but that would be a lie. King Steve never stooped as law as the likes of Tommy Hagan or other low-esteem high school bullies. King Steve was always above it all, too high and mighty to bother with mundane shit such as head shooting a nerd with a basketball in P.E. or offering a swirlie. Doesn’t make it right, doesn’t make him any less of an asshole for standing by and watching it happen.
But Harrington hasn’t been King Steve for a while now, has he?
It’s morally questionable. It’s confusing.
Eddie thinks he might be having a concussion.
“I promised,” Steve says instead, and Eddie is really even more convinced a visit to the ER is going to be necessary because- “That I wouldn’t let any ball come near you.”
Ah.
A strange oath to so stubbornly hang onto all things considered.
While Eddie struggles to find an appropriate response Steve decides to take it upon himself to start cleaning the scraped knee with a feather-light touch and precision that comes as a surprise. A minute stretches into five, into ten, as he works, clearing his throat at the end.
“I’ve been told that I’ve been,” he makes quotation marks in the air. “acting like a weirdo.”
“Ah. Well. Who am I to disagree with the King?” Eddie juts out his bottom lip and Steve snorts. Clamps a hand to his mouth, embarrassed, though a glint in his eyes betrays him.
“What’s so funny, Harrington?”
“Nothing. Just – I really do have a type,” Steve shrugs.
“Women that are probably too good for you?”
“Mmm, that, too, but also,” he grabs one of the loose strands that have escaped Eddie’s bun and twirls it between his fingers. Heat rushes to his ears fast and warm and he can barely make out what Steve says next. But he does and- “Cute pout. Curly hair. Beautiful brown eyes. Super smart.”
Eddie swallows. “Steve.”
“Not ‘Harrington’ anymore?”
“If this is a joke-“
“It’s not,” Steve’s hand quickly links and tugs at his. “I promise it’s not.”
“I’m a little lost, dude, not gonna lie.”
“The whole day, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You’re… pretty, so pretty. And Robin insisted that you like me, too,” Steve slows down, disentangles his hands from Eddie’s. “But – did I misread this? I- Don’t leave me hanging like that, man.”
Eddie can see the growing panic in Steve’s eyes, desperation in his voice. He can’t help it, his mind comes to a shattering halt.
“Wait, hold on, I- You’re being serious?” Steve nods. “Okay, shit. I-uh. Fuck.”
“This was a bad idea, wasn't it?” Steve fists his hand in his hair, making a mess of it and oh, Eddie cannot allow that, not unless he’s the one that- “I’m so sorry, Eddie-“
One hand on a grey shirt, one with rings getting tangled in-between strands of puffy hair, two pair of lips collide for just a split second. Only a quick pause follows before they are reunited again, and again, and-
“Does that mean,” Steve asks, breathless, between peppering kisses. “that you’ll go out with me?”
“Keep the kisses coming and you have yourself a deal.”
Steve leans away and smirks. Eddie can’t help the little embarrassing whine that leaves his lips. “We stopped. Why did we stop?”
“Told you it’s all about teamwork.”
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websterss · 1 year
Text
COMING BACK (2) HAPPY ENDING — ETHAN LANDRY 
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SUMMARY: Sam had given you an ultimatum when it came to Ethan, both choices didn’t feel right to you, so you chose to go along with what felt right. You were glad you had chosen right.
WARNING(S): angst, mentions of killing, mentions of dying, knife wound, fluff ending.
WORD COUNT: 2,451
PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader
A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
PART 1 | PART 2: SAD ENDING
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You didn’t know how long you had waited for. Perhaps a few minutes since he last left the closet. Perhaps more than half an hour. The long-awaited return of Ethan felt like hours. You succumb to the darkness surrounding you. Sliding down one of the walls and waiting. Your eyes glanced around hoping to catch a glimpse of light but the only light you received was from the bottom of the door. The only thing holding you together. The rushed boots and fast swipe of a shadow running past the door had you holding your breath. Not like they knew where you were. In Sam and Tara’s case, you assumed that didn’t work in your favor. If things were to go south which you didn’t doubt would happen, they wouldn’t know where to locate you, possibly thinking you were dead and dying. Some part of you was, knowing how the love of your life had become a stranger to you after revealing himself to you.
The minutes prior to hiding you made you wonder if he’d have really hurt you had you not told him you were pregnant. Would he have plunged the knife into your side where you were once stabbed by Amber? Would he have really ended what you found to be some of the most enjoyable three months together? You weren’t sure and yet you held onto the hope of him coming to get you, to tell you everything was over. So when a shadow neared the closet and swung open the door, your heart picked up and your smile grew, but as you locked eyes with Sam and then with Tara’s, your nightmare began.
“Oh thank god!” Sam rushed forward to cup your face, wiping away tears that fell down your face. “I’m so glad you’re okay! Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?” All you could muster was a shake of your head. Words betraying you.
“Holy shit, he wasn’t lying…” Tara gave you a once-over.
“Where–“ You swallow a knot forming in your throat. “Where is he?” Your voice cracked. “S-Sam? Where is he?”
Sam sighs, glancing back to Tara with a look you couldn’t recognize. Then looked back to you. She stood up, holding her hand out like a mother gesturing for her child to grab a hold of her. You did and allowed her to guide you out of the closet and down the hall where you and Ethan rushed down earlier.
When you came out into the clearing you noticed the mop of hair you loved to mess with. Sam let you go. You had taken cautious steps towards where he was sitting against a display case. When you rounded the case and his head turned towards you tiredly. You gasped and ran forward. Doing so in relief because he was okay. Your knees hit the ground hard. You didn’t mind the pain that started though. You didn’t mind it one bit. You let out a shaky laugh. Your hands holding his red and sweaty face gently.
“H-Hey…” He breathed out tiredly. His eyes doing their best to remain open. His smile only grew upon seeing you. “You’re okay…” He sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I least I’ll know you’ll be….be okay now.” His breath hitched. You teared up again, your eyes furrowing in confusion at the sudden release of his slow intake of air. You give him a once over and when you finally look down where his hand holds his bleeding wound. You gasp. Upon careful inspection, he was stabbed in multiple areas too.
“E-Ethan you’re hurt!” Your breath grew shaky.
“I didn’t know…” You whip your head over to Sam approaching you both. She shakes her head, guilt-ridden over her face.
“What?” Your brows furrow.
“I didn’t think he was telling the truth. I thought he was lying to get us to trust him…I thought you were dead, so I stabbed him!” Sam gestured to the knife still lodged in him. “Then he helped us kill his dad and I didn’t know what to believe anymore! You hunted us down. You were about to kill Y/n, then you help us? What the fuck Ethan!”
“I’m sorry…” He frowns with a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m better…better at following than making the plans. I’m sorry.” He swallows the lump in his throat.
“Sorry ain’t good enough.” Sam frowns.
“Sam he knows…” Your head drops.
She perks up at this. “What? You told him?”
“Yeah…I did.” You look back and met his eyes.
“So he hid you…” She nods, putting together his thought process and trying to make sense of the situation. “What if she wasn’t huh?“ Ethan looks up slowly to meet her gaze. “Would you still have hidden her then?”
He looks over at you. You honestly didn’t want to know what his answer would be. Scared you’d be met with the opposite. “No…” He croaks out. “I-I’m sorry okay. I don’t know what more…you want me to say.” He trails off. His head fell into his shoulder. His eyes closed.
“Hey, no, no. Hey Ethan!” You frantically pat his face hoping he’d come to but he wasn’t responding. “H-Hey…Open your eyes!” You cry out. Lifting his head to be upright. Your teary-eyed vision was blurred. “Hey, open your eyes for me!” You sniffled as you feel for his pulse. It was still there but faint. Your head falls onto his chest sighing in relief but you still grew weary. You pulled back and wiped under your nose. You had a plan and you had to act fast on it.
“What are you doing?” Sam questions you as you start pushing up the black robe up his torso. You lifted the hem up, ripping the cloth so it wouldn’t touch the knife lodged into his side. You push it up and then work on getting his arms out of the holes. When the costume drapes over his neck you carefully hold his neck and take it off him completely. The gloves he wore were next. “Y/n, what are you doing?” Sam cuts in again but doesn’t stop you. You sniffle wiping your nose once more as you rid him of the costume.
“H-He’s not going down for this...” You stand.
“You can’t be serious!” She scoffs.
“I am, burn it!” You toss her the costume and gloves. “He can’t get the help he needs if he’s locked up.”
“Maybe that’s what he needs. To go to jail! He killed our friends!” She solemnly reminds you. You look down closing your eyes. “Anika, Chad!”
“I know! I know that! I know it, okay…please, I just need him to not be incarcerated right now okay? You don’t have to forgive him. Hell, I don’t even think I can.“ Tears fall down your face. You press your hands against your stomach. “I at least would like to not go through this alone without him.” Your blurred vision meets her conflicted expression. She doesn’t know what to do or say. “I don’t know if this makes me fucked up for not wanting him to die or go to jail. I can’t look past what he’s done to us I know that. I know that. Anika was very dear to me. I don’t know if I have the strength to forgive him, but he’s my person. I gave him every piece of myself for months, and he made everything feel like it was all for nothing in a second. A second Sam, he broke me in a second and he’s this baby's father and I hate him for what he’s done. What do I do with that, Sam?” You plea. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” You cup your forehead. “H-He said he wouldn’t have saved me…What the fuck do I do with that?” You point to him.
“You let him go.” Tara cuts in. You meet her somber expression.
“I don’t know if I can…”
“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Sam says. “It’s your call here though.” You meet her gaze. “But the way I see it. There’s really only two ways this can go tonight. You can save him, and let him go, or let him die.” Water brims your waterline as she says this. You look back down to the guy who put you back together and then slammed his fist down on your finished puzzle. All your pieces felt scattered now, with no way of resembling your broken heart. Had it really been two choices this whole time? One of life or one of death. One of love or one of loss. Sam made it seem so easy. Yet this was the hardest choice you’ve ever had to decide on. What was to be was up to you now. You could save him or you could let him go…
-
The ultimatum Sam left you with had taken a huge toll on you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of going through with either decision. The thought of losing him at all didn’t sit right with you. It only made you want to fight for him more, especially now.
“Y/n. Y/n?” You come out of your daze as the hand that waves in front of your face becomes clear. You blink rapidly, shaking your head. “Hey, you okay?”
“Sorry, what?” Your cheeks heat up as Sam shakes her head. 
“You okay? I lost you there for a second.”
“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I was just thinking.”
“Wanna talk about it?” She nudges you.
“No. No not today. I wanna enjoy this day and forget about everything.” Your smile grows as the faint giggles of your little one go in and out of your ears. You and Sam laugh as Ethan chases after her, his hands out like false claws. The growls he emits causes her to scream and run away so as to not be caught by him. When he catches her she squeals as he attacks her with kisses. You lean back on your hands content, as he walks over to you. Sam, having just gotten up to play frisbee with the others.
“Argh!” He takes a playful bite out of her cheek. He falls over the blanket and pretends to faint. 
“Mommy, daddy’s being silly.”
“He is silly.” You giggle as he peers over at her with one eye. Giggles emit from her as she plops on top of his chest. 
“Daddy wake up.” She pokes at his cheeks, a slight pout on her lips.
Ethan lets out a fake yawn and wakes up. “Mmm? What happened?” He looks around, you and Sammy shake your heads at his antics. He sits up and stretches his arms above his head. You sneak a glance at where his shirt rises. His stomach, and a bit of a happy trail peek out. Your staring isn’t lost on him. It’s not long before he’s scooting over to your side, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You hum contently, turning your head to grant him a smile.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mmm?” You furrow your brows. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong?” You chuckle, brushing back his curls with your hand. Your palm slides down to his cheek. Holding him as he stares at you with concern. 
“You’ve been dazing off a lot. It’s got us all worried.” Ethan adverts his gaze to glance at the others playing frisbee. “It’s got me worried. You were like this after Samantha was born, I just want to make sure that whatever you’re going through that you’re not alone and I’m here if you want to ta-”
“Shhh. Hey.” You trace over his bottom lip gently. “I’m okay. I promise. I just get thrown back to that night sometimes. It’s just hard to shake the memories.” You shrug it off. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” He frowns. 
“I’d tell you if something else was bothering me.” You lean in and kiss his cheek.
“Promise.”
“Yes, my love, I promise...” You exaggerate your voice, bursting into fits of giggles, as he rolls his eyes at your antics. Upon the sounds of your laughter, Samantha’s curiosity is peaked as she finds her parents snuggly and close. You both turn as she plops on top of you both causing you to groan.
“Oh ho.” You both groan as you embrace her. “What is Uncle Chad feeding you? You’re getting so big, my love! What happened to my little Sammy? You’re growing up so fast!” You coo, cupping her chubby cheeks. The pout she pulls gnaws at your heartstrings. You and Ethan sit up.
“It was only an ice cream. Uncle Chad told me not to tell you...I’m sorry.”
“What? Oh, baby no. It’s okay. We’re not mad. It’s okay to have sweets, especially today of all days, my birthday girl. We just don’t want your tummy to hurt if you do eat too much okay? We’re not mad at you, baby.” You pull her in and plant a big kiss on her cheeks. Ethan kisses her other cheek. 
“Okay, mommy.” Samantha nods.
“What flavor was it?” Ethan smirks, leaning in as he asks her.
“Chocolate and strawberry.” Her eyes light up.
“Chocolate and strawberry! And you didn’t save me some! Aw, man!” He falls on his back.
“We can go get you one Daddy.” Ethan lifts his head at her suggestion.
“Do I get the double scoops?”
“I-I don’t know...if mommy says it’s okay.” Samantha shrugs. Next thing you know, Ethan meets your gaze with a cheeky smile. 
“What do you say, mommy, can daddy get two scoops?” He pouts at you, fluttering his eyelashes.
“As long as you bring back one for Mommy, then I say it’s okay.” You scrunch your nose, as you poke her stomach playfully. Her giggles have you beaming with joy.
“Yes!” Ethan claps, standing up to full height. Now once again towering over you and Samantha. “Come on Sammy, let’s go.” He extends his hand out for her to take.
“Thank you, mommy!” She kisses you on the lips and takes Ethan’s hands. 
“Muah!” You smile at her.
“Brb. You want a combo right?” He looks down at you on the blanket.
“I’m kind of craving that chocolate and strawberry combo now.” You giggle.
“One chocolate and strawberry ice cream for mommy, coming right up! Argh, you’re so big!” He fake groans as he bends down for Samantha to get on his back. “Stop growing!” He teases, then sprints off to the ice cream cart that was on the other side of the park. 
“You’re silly, daddy!” Samantha chuckles.
“Super silly...” You mutter to yourself as you watch them walk across the grass.
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1whore1gang · 10 months
Text
it’s the little things🤍
hey y’all! this is part 6!!
catch up HERE
sorry this took so long to get out to y’all, been working like crazy and had some writers block, BUT IM HERE TO FEED YALL
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT
MDNI!!!
Taglist: @gaymistakeboi@batw3nch@thedevillovesflowers@almightywdm@ghostslittlegf@sketchyfandomgirl@under-the-dirt@clear-your-mind-and-dream@darkangel4121@vreselia@llemes @stargaliz @rockcollector3000 @nottrosaxx
as always please yell at me if i forgot you!
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You lay in your cot, your body aching from the long days of hard work. You had just gotten back from a shift, your phone ringing as your back hit the fabric. You had super shotty service, so a call coming throigh was a miracle.
“Hey baby, I hope you’re well.” You swiped to answer the call. It was your John.
“Hey honey, just tired as hell.” You chuckled a little as you laid on your side, placing your phone next to you.
“I know you don’t have much time to talk and need your rest but I wanted to not only hear your voice but let you know I met the babysitter today. She cleared the background check and she loves the boys.” You could hear his smile in his voice.
“That’s good.” You replied, your eyes closed as you felt your body relax to his voice.
“She’s young, 19. She’s a spritey thing, lots of energy. She’s bubbly and super great with the boys. Her name is Tia. I think she’ll be good for them, be able to keep up.” He sounded excited, and you were happy he’d found a girl you could trust to watch the boys.
“I’m glad babe, hopefully they don’t chase her away. How much is she charging? Is she staying on base?”
He chuckled, “I’m paying her so don’t you worry about the money doll, as for her, she’s staying in my room. I’m giving my room a deep clean and washing my sheets before I leave.”
“She’s sleeping in your bed?” You opened your eyes at this and propped yourself up on your elbow.
“Yeah, comfier than the couch.” He said it so casually, but it somewhat bothered you that some babysitter was sleeping in his bed before you were. Yes, you chose not to, but it still bothered you, the idea of a much younger woman sleeping in his sheets, using his room for herself. “Baby?”
His voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, but the couch isn’t too bad. I’ve been sleeping on it. I would prefer it over my current situation.” You heard John laugh a little.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be out there before you know it, I’ll make sure you stay comfy and get rested. Tia though-“ He continued to ramble on about how Tia did with the boys and what he thought of her. He spoke about how she’s coming again so he can give her a rundown on everything she’ll need to know, and make sure she doesn’t have any questions. He said he’s going to spend the day with her and the boys so she can get acquainted.
It bothered you a bit. You knew deep down it was nothing, John wouldn’t sleep with a 19 year old, nor would he cheat on you. Right?
“But, I’ll let you go my love, get some rest. I’ll see you in 4 days.” You big your goodbyes as he hung up.
You quickly fell into a deep sleep.
“Lieutenant! Get your ass up and get to your post!!” You woke up to Captain Snyder’s voice booming. “You’ve got 20 minutes until your shift, get moving.”
“Yes sir.” Your voice was hoarse as you arose from the rough cot and threw on the missing pieces of your uniform you didn’t sleep in. Your eyes were heavy as you hobbled to your post, taking the jeep to the embassy.
You noticed your soldiers were in a similar state? you were all starving and restless. Some soldiers had been sent home because of their sickness, being considered critical. You did your best not to push your squad, letting them take breaks and rest up, but more and more were falling ill, including yourself.
Unfortunately, being the leader, you weren’t allowed to go take a break or go rest up to feel healthy. You had to push through and manage, and that had caused you to become a shell of yourself. You had continued to lose weight, lose energy and motivation, even feeling i’ll yourself. You weren’t able to eat from lack of appetite, anything you ate came back up within an hour.
You felt like death, and you were scared for John to see you this way, but he was bringing backup to replace the soldiers who had been rushed to hospitals.
At night while you were watching transports, you dreamed of him getting off that plane, the way his arms would save you from the trouble you’d endured here.
The worst part of this mission though? Captain Snyders team was completely fine. They were all healthy, rested and none of them had fallen ill. They weren’t being pushed like your squad.
There was something fishy here and you couldn’t put your finger on it. You didn’t have the energy to even put thought into it.
You were so close to John’s arrival, only 36 hours until he arrived. You were on duty when you were checking someone into the embassy and you felt your field of vision turn black. You grabbed into Private Frag next to you as you felt yourself begin to collapse.
You woke up 32 hours later. Captain Snyder was in the med tent with you and the nurse. He looked pissed. “Lieutenant, nice of you to join us. What the hell were you thinking?! You have a crew to take care of!”
“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been feeling myself lately.” Your voice came out so quietly, your voice lost somewhere.
“No excuses L.T. You’re here because I recommended you. Your commendable leadership in previous missions was what got you here. Your behavior on this mission has been unacceptable, and therefore you’ve been sentenced to 24 hour duty. You will watch the embassy starting tomorrow at noon, and finishing the following day at noon with no breaks.” You felt your breath catch, there was no way he expected you to do that in your condition. You could barely speak! Barely move!
“Sir, I don’t mean to talk back but-“
“Then don’t speak.” You felt the feeling of crying, but no tears came due to your dehydration. “You are allowed the rest of today to rest, but I want to see you well and alive tomorrow at noon at the embassy’s back entrance to begin your shift. Now, if you excuse me I have to go welcome to incoming squad and Captain Price.”
You sighed at his name, your John was here. You began to breath unevenly, emotion taking over you, but you were too tired to cry. “Sir, if I could just-“
“No Lieutenant. You will not speak any longer. You are to remain silent when I am in your presence. I do not want anymore inexcusable behavior from you and if there is, I will be forced to punish you accordingly.” He was stern as he threw his cap on and exited the tent.
You felt helpless as the nurse shushed you and began to administer more fluids into your IV and tried to give you some food.
A couple of hours later, you were up and walking. You were hardly doing it, but the nurse needed the bed for a soldier who had gotten a stomach parasite while in the desert. You were on your way back to your tent when you saw Captain Snyder.
His cocky smirk made your stomach sink. “Lieutenant! I see your back to your normal self!” He landed a hard pat to your shoulder, making you nearly topple over.
“Sir, please, I really need a couple of days to recover, I’m not well.” You looked up at him with your droopy, sunken in eyes.
He laughed. “You think I’m going to allow you that? I am your superior and you are going to listen to me. You answer to me and take orders from me. If I tell you you’re fine and to fulfill your 24 hour tomorrow, that’s what you do. Clear?”
“Captain, sir, please-“
“I said clear?!” His voice echoed as he shouted in your face, his grip tight on your upper arm.
“Sir-“
“I’m sorry.” You heard a cocky voice fill your ears. “What did you just say?” It was a voice that began to fill your soul with life.
“Captain Price.” Snyder kept his grip on you as he turned. “I was just telling my Lieutenant here-“
“Your Lieutenant?” John chuckled lowly as he slowly stepped closer, foot by foot.
“I am her Captain now, she takes her orders from me.” His grip tightened on you as he straightened himself to stand taller. You whimpered at the brusing grip of his fingers digging into your skin.
John’s laugh brought your eyes up to him. Your knees about gave out at the sight of him. He was in full uniform, his guns hanging from his hip, his boonie cap hanging low on his forehead. “Last time I checked Captain,” He spat the man’s title. “Her vest says 141, so does her file. That makes her my Lieutenant.” John cocked his head to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You are not apart of this mission Price.” Snyder kept his arm on you, almost like his bruises in your arm would claim you as his property.
“Get your hands off my officer before I lay mine on you.” John’s voice was a growl as he threatened Snyder. “Now.”
You felt the fingers dug into your arm slowly release as you wobbled, now standing on your own. You fully faced John, seeing him fully. His gaze softened at your state. “She will only ever take orders from me, her Captain. She will not take anything from your mouth. She is my Lieutenant, and will report to me and only me.” He gently grabbed you as he escorted you to your tent, leaving Captain Snyder speechless.
“Oh Y/N, my dear.” He set you on your cot, coming to sit with you, letting you lean against him. “What is happening here?”
You sniffled as you took in that homey scent of him. The sweet cologne mixed with cigar smoke. He was here, your John was here. “How’re the boys, I miss them.”
“Oh your voice-“ He began to draw circles into your back as he ran his hand through your hair, shushing you. “Don’t talk, save your energy to rest, love. I’m so sorry this is happening.”
You look up at him, staring into his eyes. “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t hesitate to follow your instructions. His lips meet yours briefly, yet the kiss was so full of love and care. “Darling…”
“John?” You said.
“Yes dear?”
“What was that out there?”
“What was what?” He cocked his head, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at you.
“Your Lieutenant?” You smirked, kissing him again.
“You are mine. That man has no right to talk to you that way. Only I can boss you around, only I can order you around. You’re mine.” His eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice a low growl.
“John?” You cooed.
“Yes Y/N?” His eyes were hooded as he looked at you.
“Make me yours.” John flinched forward to kiss you but quickly stopped. “John?”
“I don’t wanna break you. You’re so pretty and you don’t feel well.” His hand caressed your cheek.
“I don’t care, wreck me.”
John’s whole demeanor changed as he roughly captured your lips with his, his hands groping around your body, holding on tightly.
“Look at ya, all needy for me.” John’s voice ran shivers up your spine as his breath tickled against your neck.
His lips left marks all over your neck as he began to rid you of your shirt. “Lemme see ya-“
“John-“ His eyes met yours as you began to breath quicker in anticipation. He looked at you as you nodded and he quickly left you without a shirt or bra.
His hands massaged your breasts as his mouth took home on one of your nipples, sucking and playing with it. His gums of satisfaction caused sparks through your nerves. You let out a few quiet moans, and at that he made it his job to bring more out of you.
He loved that sound and wanted to drink it in, hearing it over and over. You put your hand in his hair as he continue to give your breasts attention, but you needed him elsewhere. You took his wrist in your other hand as you let it to your center. “John, please.” You begged.
His eyes were blown out as he looked up at you, practically ripping your pants off as he took his stance between your legs, his face inches from you. “You’re soaked baby.” Two of his fingers dragged through your folds. “All ready for me aren’t you?”
Those two fingers pressed inside of you, moving around, feeling the way you felt. John let out a moan at the feeling, beginning to scissor his fingers to stretch you out. “Gotta make you comfortable baby.” His fingers then pumped in and out of you slowly as his mouth latched into your clit.
You let out an unholy moan at the pressure. “John!” His name kept leaving your lips along with strings of curses.
“You gonna cum for me doll?” His voice had a hint of teasing to it, having you coming undone so quickly. “Do it, cum around my fingers, all over my mouth.”
And you did. His beard was coated with a glaze as he sat up and began to undo his belt. “Come here sweet thing.”
His thumb guided your chin as you sat up, mouth open and ready for him. “Mmm, that’s a sight.”
“I love you John.” You said with doe eyes, staring up at him from the edge of your cot.
“You’re gonna really love me in a minute baby.” He pulled his boxers down and freed his hard cock, it springing free in front of your eyes.
You stared as he pulled his pants all the way down and discarded his shirt. His cock was large, but it was beautiful. It had a vein running up the bottom of it, curving up slightly and his pink tip was shiny with precum. You licked your lips as your left hand rested on his thigh, your right wrapping around his base.
You heard his breath hitch at the contact and you looked up at him as you took him in your mouth, then locking a stripe up the bottom of his cock. “Fuck baby, yes.”
His hand came to dig into your hair to guide you along him, you sucking and pumping him to absolute ecstasy.
His groans were music to your ears. You continued to keep eye contact as he began to take control little by little. You felt his hand gently push against the back of your head as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat.
You could tell he wanted to fuck your mouth. You pulled off of him with a pop and brought his face close to yours. “John honey?”
“Yes?”
“Do it.” John let out the most gorgeous moan at your words as he stood back to his full height and tightly held your hair. He shoved his dick all the way to the back of your throat, causing a small gag to come out of you.
He was singing your praises as he stayed there. “That’s it baby, relax for me.” He spoke slowly, calmly.
Continuing to take deep breaths, your nose was buried in his hips until he moved, and he moved quickly. His pace was reckless and you could feel a bruise forming at the back of your mouth from his tip abusing it. The sounds and grunts coming out of him were dirty and it made you wet thinking about how his cock would feel inside of you.
Your hands squeezed his thighs as you felt him begin to stutter. “Fuck.”
He grabbed your shoulders as he lifted you up and bent you over the small desk in your tent, quickly shoving himself deep in your pussy. “So fucking tight, mm.”
He paused for a second, breathing through teeth. “Fuck baby, relax a little.”
His thumb rubbed your lower back as he felt you become more comfortable with his size. He bummed as he began to move, slow at first.
He grunted as his arms crossed, hands grabbing your hips to reinforce himself as his hips began to quickly snap against your ass. You were a moaning mess as his balls stimulated your clit. “Fuck! Yes!”
“Who do you belong to?” He said it between grunts and the question caused you to moan in response. “Who’s. Are. You.”
“Yours! I’m all yours John!!” You we’re shouting, the pleasure he was giving you was out of this world.
You felt the coil in your stomach tightening as he continued to plow into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You said, your legs beginning to shake.
“Cum for me darling.” A couple more thrusts and you were a mess under him, your hips were beginning to ache and your legs were jelly.
“I’m close.” He growled lowly, grunts pouring from his mouth as his hips moved sloppily. “In or out?”
You couldn’t even respond as he continued to wreck your insides. “Baby, I need to know.”
“In.”
John released as soon as the word left your mouth, filling you up. His pulled his cock out and quickly shoved two fingers in you, keeping his cum from leaking out. “Look at how pretty you look all fucked out.”
“John…” Your voice made him switch immediately, removing his fingers and swooping you up in his arms as he put you on your cot.
“I’ll be right back, I promise.” John kissed your forehead, leaving the tent.
You laid in the afterglow waiting for him to return, and when he did you began to tear up. He walked in with your favorite pajama pants and one of his hoodies and a towel.
He was dressed in his pajamas as well. He cleaned you up, helping you into the clothes he brought you. “I couldn’t come see my girl and not bring her something from home when I leave.”
He laid down behind you, your back against his chest as he pulled your hair into two braids, out of your face. “I really do love you John.”
“I love you too, and don’t let Snyder get to you. I will take care of it okay? You will be here resting as long as you need before you’re healthy again. I won’t let him mistreat you anymore. You’re my girl.”
You turned to look up at him as he planted a long kiss on your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
You kissed him again before settling in against his chest. “Thank you…”
“Always my love.”
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annwe24 · 5 months
Text
KINDRED serie
LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X READER
Part 1
Summary: The past still haunts him as a painful reminder of being played at love. Even with such opportunity, Lucifer refuses to open up his heart.
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People often say death is the well-deserved eternal rest after a life of hardship. That, unfortunately, has been proven wrong. Hell is like a punch in the face for those who seek escapism in the afterlife, leaving undone business to the living. So why the Hell would sinners be able to redeem themselves in the first place? Lucifer frustratedly thinks to himself. He is totally baffled at the idea. Even, hypothetically at best, they somehow made it into heaven, would they be accepted? However, seeing how determined his daughter is, it would break his heart to not support her only grand goal in life. He hates how he cares enough to awkwardly pour tea into your teacup with a shaky pinky at the moment. Charlie has been pushing him to leave his usual working desk to spend time socializing. It's a bonding exercise, she said. Given how well-mannered you usually are, he is glad she chose you instead of the other sinners. Ah, you. Always so caring, always so polite, always so-
Your Majesty, your tea is getting cold.
Coughing loudly, he drinks all the tea in his cup at once and silently cringes at himself.
Sorry, I’ve been having too many thoughts these days. Many things, you know.
Is there any way I can help? I noticed you’ve been so paranoid lately, I’m just worried but of course! You don't have to agree to that just because I ask you but please don't feel pressured to keep everything to yourself because I know-
Hey, it's alright! I understand your sentiment.
He softly cuts you off seeing that you are getting worked up. You always have this rather odd excitement for helping people. Your kindness stands out too much compared to others, something almost too pure. A question he's been asking himself lately is how did you end up here. It has been fun contemplating the possibilities during his free time, imagining your sweet face distorts into madness. Wait, what? Sweet face?
The fuck is your problem? He knows good people, even a rarity, still exist in this hellhole. Not all good people end up in Heaven, something Lucifer has long accepted. The problem is your goodness is absurd. Ever since your arrival at the hotel, it is clear that you are one of the most eager helpers, going as far as taking Charlie’s exercises almost too seriously. It irritates him to no end how you are so easily exploited.
He noticed many guests at the hotel use you as an errand runner unknowingly from time to time. There is certainly no malicious intent underneath, they themselves don't even realize that. It’s just that you are too easy, too gullible. Angel Dust is one glaring example. He has been known to ask you to fetch him stuff when he is “too fragile and sore due to overwork”. In reality, he sleeps through the afternoon and just gets too lazy. Lucifer can't help but find you suspicious. Afterall, who is going to trust someone in Hell, suffers memory loss, no identity and came to this hotel saying they wanted “a second chance”. He is determined to see through your facade, peeling you out like an onion.
Ouch!
A loud yelp followed by the squeaks of a hundred rubber ducks echo though his mansion. He quickly puts down the boiling kettle and dashes to his room. Piles of rubber ducks scatter across his room with you being the center of it all, dumbfounded. Panic reaches your eyes as you stand up hastily and say small “sorry” over and over. You look like you're about to cry.
Lucifer calmly squeezes through piles of rubber duck to get to you and places an assuring hand on your shoulder:
It’s nothing I can't fix. Here!
With a snap of his finger, the ducks magically fly back into place and the room starts to look like a room fit for a king rather than a depressed single dad. Lucifer is quite pleased with your wide-eye expression. Letting out a sigh, he guides you over to the tea table where you two would spend the rest of the afternoon. This kind of “date” has been going on for a while under the encouragement of Charlie. She is ecstatic to see her father finally be able to find someone to confide in and is a sinner. Although Lucifer can hang around the hotel whenever he feels like it, he prefers somewhere more private and quiet so that no one judges him. He hates being judged. It reminds him of his time in Heaven which he absolutely wants to forget. This is where Hell steps in. The place is literally his playground, albeit a bit grotesque, but at least he is free.
As time flies, the little hangouts between you and him occur more often. It has reached to a point that he finds his mansion eerie without your presence. You are not a talkative person nor a charmer, but you carry yourself with such sweetness that makes him feel peaceful, a warmth he has long forgotten. He wonders if the same happens to you. Do you find yourself incomplete without meeting him at least once a day? He certainly is not a mind reader but a keen observer at the very least. You seem to light up every time you see him, always looking, listening in his direction. He is scared. What if this was all a ploy you set up to get closer to the King, to have some kind of privilege down here? You are first and foremost still a sinner. Although he believes not everyone in Hell is bad, being in Hell means breaking some morals while you were alive. He can't handle another failed relationship. Not right now, not when Lilith still lingers hauntingly in the back of his mind, not when he can break at any moment and Charlie is the only thing that keeps him going. He can't let her get hurt too. She is just as fragile as him after the divorce.
Tonight’s hangout is just the same as every other hangout: comfortable silence. You are rolling on his king-size bed while fidgeting a rubber duck he especially made for you. You have been quite comfortable in his mansion, letting yourself go as if you were at home. As for Lucifer, he is at his working desk as usual. He likes it this way. Lucifer is not a chatter at heart and you are the same. After a while, you decided to break the silence:
What are you making today? You rolled over on the bed to face him.
Oh, just rubber duck, you know.
You have so many already. Why don't you make something new every then and there?
What do you like?
Huh?
What do you like? He asked, turning back to face you.
Well, um… I like stuffed animals? I guess?
Okay, it's a deal then! He said with a toothy grin.
Y-you don't have to!
It's alright. I’m running out of ideas anyways.
Thank you!! You say as you hug the rubber duck.
What am I doing? Lucifer silently thinks to himself.
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tayloralisonswift · 3 months
Text
perhaps my hottest take of all time is that while the himym finale sucked, it did not make sense for barney and robin to be together forever and i like how it ended for barney, even if he did recede to his creepy old ways for a while first. the following is probably gonna be an essay, sorry.
so first of all, the main reason why barney and robin couldn’t be together for the rest of their lives wasn’t even why they ended things (though i suppose you could say in a way barney wanted to settle down somewhere and robin wanted to keep traveling, which is symbolic.) it’s because of children. robin categorically does not want kids, something which is impressed upon us a million times, and it would be out of character for her to randomly want to put aside her career to be a mother. barney, meanwhile, longs for the family he never had. he wants to be a father, ever since his not-a-father’s-day karaoke session, just like he wants his father to be a father to him. at one point when he borrows his brother’s baby, he and ted both agree that they have to wait for the real thing. character-wise, it wouldn’t surprise me if barney wanted to bury this in order to be with robin, but it would feel like an unfinished plot thread. barney was always meant to be a dad. thus, they were ultimately incompatible.
however! that doesn’t mean their marriage was wrong or bad or out of character. when they tell their friends, they stress it was not a failure, just a short marriage, which reminds me of jack gilbert’s poem about divorce which says “everyone forgets that icarus also flew.” i don’t think their relationship was a waste. the love was there! it wasn’t enough and it didn’t change anything but it was there.
so why do i hate the finale then? ted and robin. putting aside their differences and the contradictions there, ted is loyal. ted often sucks a lot, but he is loyal to his friends, and barney is his friend. you cannot tell me that ted would get together with his bro’s ex wife. it’s a literal bro code violation, which we know barney really cares about. it would, essentially, rip their friendship apart. especially because the marriage ended on “the love was there” terms - barney will probably always love robin.
then there’s robin’s characterization post-divorce, where she is regretting ever marrying barney and suggesting that she chose the wrong guy, which is shitty of her. mostly she is whiny about ted finally being happy when there have been so many instances where she could’ve been with ted again and chose not to be. this robin is pathetic. at the very least she’s an awful friend. (like it’s not lily’s fault you miss your ex.)
and tracey deserves better than for robin to usurp her story! tracey’s story matters, it’s the reason we started watching, she is The Mother! another hot take but i can see pros and cons to her dying, mostly cons (because hello, we’ve been waiting all this time and you just kill her off??) but i do think it makes sense narratively that ted would sit down his kids on his own and tell them about their late mother. plus that scene where he runs to her door to have a few extra days with her is probably the most excruciating moment on television. (sorry as if it’s my fault.) but i do agree with the general consensus that killing her off in service of ted and robin was shitty.
in my dream finale, barney and robin are together for longer, maybe five years or so. barney goes back to dating and has his child, including the sweet moment where he says that speech he never thought he’d say. robin travels the world. she comes back to new york and she and barney reconcile enough that the gang gets back together and it’s sort of awkward but they commit to it anyway. tracey does die and ted only loves her until his dying breath, or she doesn’t and they grow old on the front porch together. marshall and lily’s story stays the same except robin is a better friend.
wow i’m so glad i decided to spend my morning writing something no one will read! but if you were reading 1. ily 2. don’t kill me for my hot takes <3
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elisysd · 7 months
Text
2. Square one, my slate is clear
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Masterlist - Previoulsy - Next
Soundtrack: Square One - Caamp
He was relieved to not see you around the paddock in Saudi Arabia. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t have been able to handle your comments on his penalty and probably would have snapped. He was pissed off enough because of that and snapping wouldn’t help him. He didn't need that. Ferrari didn’t need that. Even though his race was okay, he was feeling frustrated. Frustrated over a car that he was trying to push way too much, a team that was not really listening to him, beside Fred with whom he had a very close relationship with and who at times, felt like the only trustworthy person around him.
Once he was done with his duties he finally managed to find his brother, Arthur, in hope of congratulating him for his P8. He hadn’t had the time to see him before his F2 race and he felt a bit guilty about it. He had always made sure he would be there for him no matter what and he couldn't handle letting him down, even if deep down he knew it wouldn’t even cross Arthur’s mind. He met him in the Ferrari’s hospitality as he was talking to their big brother, Lorenzo.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to be there for you.” Charles apologized, taking Arthur in his arms.
“It’s fine. I’m glad, P8 is not that bad and I’ll be able to keep on improving.”
“Still. I promised I would always watch your races and here I am already failing.”
“You’re not failing. You have things going on and places to be. It’s okay, I understand. and I know where to find you if I need you.”
“You know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what.” Charles insisted.
“I know. Maybe there is something you could help me with?”
“Of course. Tell me.”
“I still have to get used to the media and to the interviews. I had a long one with a journalist from French TV and I was so nervous that I think I stuttered a bit.”
Charles saw red. Immediately.
“Did she tell you her name?” he asked, so urgently that it earned him a weird look from both of his brothers.
“Y/N. But, that’s okay, she was very laid back and made sure I was at ease, she was nice. Very nice and she even joked to make me feel better. And she is very pretty.” he added, glancing at Charles who had heard only half of his answer, focused on the fact that you might have tried to play with Arthur.
“You should tell your team to not let her be near you, she has something against me and I don’t want her to get you as leverage to hurt me.”
“Have you heard yourself? She is a journalist, not part of the damn mafia!” Arthur argued in disbelief.
“Still. Be careful.”
“I don’t see how such a cute and nice girl could be so dangerous.” Arthur mumbled as Lorenzo looked at the F1 driver, amused.
“Don’t start to develop a crush on her, you have a girlfriend.”
“She's not my type. She is more yours.” Arthur playfully joked as Charles glared at him.
“Not you too. First Silvia, now you, it has to stop. No girls for me this year, I need to focus on the championship…. and I really mean it. My career first. Ferrari is a sinking ship, I need to be one hundred percent focused on it.”
He chose to ignore the looks on his brothers’ faces. He was serious, dating was out of the equation, he had too much work, too many things to do. He could try casual dating but it was not his thing. So if he had to swear on celibacy for the time being, then so be it. He saw Arthur about to reply but thankfully, Fred had just entered the room, a smile on his face. He patted Charles on the shoulders, briefly congratulated Arthur for his race and asked Lorenzo how he was doing, before announcing that he had planned a little dinner between the team in a nice restaurant to relax and bond after the weekend. Charles was about to say that he was not in the mood to socialize but quickly avoided it when he saw the hard gaze of his team principal. He wouldn’t offer him a way out on this one.
Charles found himself sitting in a very fancy but at the same time intimate setting, next to Carlos, and in a nice and laid back atmosphere. It was nice. He felt like he could finally relax and enjoy himself a little bit. He was joking with Xavi when, from the corner of his eyes he saw a group of people entering the restaurant. It didn’t take long for Charles to notice you immediately, somehow standing out, for a reason he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. And as if you were feeling his eyes on your skin, you turned your head in his direction meeting his blue-green orbs. He saw you raising an eyebrow, almost defying him before nodding your head, in order to greet him. As you were taking your seat, Charles couldn’t help but keep on staring at your figure. You were wearing a tight black dress, your hair in a more elaborate ponytail than the one you were usually wearing in the paddock. Arthur was right, you were pretty. Even more than that if he had to be honest with himself. You were stunning. But he knew that you would be even more if you were not as insufferable.
He felt distracted, more than he should be. Your mere presence was enough to make his skin itching and his legs bouncing. It was stupid, he knew it, it was not like you were about to jump on him to harass him with your questions. But he was suddenly mindful of his movements, of the way he was holding his fork, of the way he was chewing on his steak, of the napkin on his lap and of the weird looks Fred and Andrea were giving him. From the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t help but watch you in a way he hoped was not too obvious. It was just little side glances, here and there. You looked happy, at ease, closer to the portrayal Arthur depicted of you than the one Charles had faced. He looked at the people surrounding you. Jean, Marion… the team that was on the Grand Prix. He knew them well, he was even happy to call Jean his friend. Always there outside of the tracks when he needed someone to talk to. His gaze lingered on you a bit longer than necessary. You were oddly fitting with them. You were laughing, expressing yourself with your hands, a bright smile on your  face, the one that was making your cheeks hurt. You looked younger when you acted like that, he thought. Far away from the ruthless girl he had met and was asking him petty questions. He started to doubt. Maybe, after all, the problem was coming from him, maybe he was somehow responsible for your cold attitude towards him. Maybe he had met you in the past and had acted like an ass to you and that’s why you didn’t seem to be able to give him the time of the day. As if his feet had a mind on their own, he got up and walked to your table. He saw your surprised face when he stood right next to you and didn’t miss the sigh of annoyance you breathed in his direction.
“Charles! We didn’t see you!” Jean exclaimed, putting a hand on the Ferrari driver's shoulder.
“Yeah, I saw you and I was debating on whether or not I should come by. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”
“How are you doing? The penalty was harsh but you managed to race well.”
“Yeah, it was impressive.” Marion admitted.
“Thanks guys. It was a tough race.” he humbly said, his eyes glued to your figure who was suddenly finding your chocolate cake very interesting.
Unfortunately for you, it suddenly seemed quite evident that Charles wasn’t going anywhere. He had suddenly taken a chair and was sitting next to Marion and right beside you. You could still smell his sandalwood aftershave hitting your nostrils. And when you felt his knee slightly brushing yours, you jumped.
“I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s my friend’s birthday tonight and I forgot to call her. Don’t wait for me.” you apologized, almost running away from the table.
Minutes passed and when it became clear that the door would keep on being closed, Charles decided to go searching for you. He went back quickly to his table to gather his things and say goodbyes before going outside. You were there, staring straight ahead of you, not even blinking or flinching when he approached. But Charles didn’t fail to notice the goosebumps on your skin and your slight shiver.
“Are you okay?” he asked, unsure but was met with only silence from your side. “It’s rude to not reply, you know?”
It finally made you look at him, your eyes staring right in his, still silent. Charles started to feel frustrated, he wanted to hear your voice, anything that could break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen down on both of you.
“Feeling less confident without a mic? You can’t hide anymore. It’s you and me, fighting like equals. No cameras, nothing.”
“I didn’t think you were nice.” You finally blurted out, throwing him off of his feet. “You… you have such a polished image, so neat, so…perfect. Never a word higher than the others. Always a nice smile and a word for everyone. So gentlemanly. No one is ever this kind and polite, I thought it was just a facade, that you must hide something. Because, surely, you can’t be that perfect.” You explained and Charles let out a sigh of relief.
“Well… that’s a very sad thought to have. I wonder what kind of assholes you must have met to have this view of the world. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I like to think that I’m a decent human being.”
“You would be surprised by the amount of not so nice people I’ve met these past few years.”
“Yeah?”
“I attract assholes.”
“I’m sure it’s not true.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re here, no?” you half smiled and Charles knew it was an attempt at a joke. A poor one.
“Well, maybe I could show you that not all people are assholes.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” you asked.
“What about starting from scratch?” he explained, extending his hand in your direction. “I’m Charles. What about you?”
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Author's note: There is a little progress. Tiny, baby, little steps, but hey! You seriously didn't think I woud make it easy for them?
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