#finally she had a successful date thank god

[deathbypufferfish]

GET IT GIRL GET IT GIRL GET IT GIRL

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up and Insecurity | Chan

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

The evening at Chan’s apartment was lively, filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You were mingling with the group, enjoying the company of friends and Chan’s younger sister, Hannah. She had flown in to help celebrate her older brother's success, and make a much needed visit to finally meet the object of Chris's utmost attention.

You guys had immediately hit it off, Hannah already talking about the wedding preparations- although Chris had yet to propose, since you had only been dating for around six months. Although, you both were for certain going to spend the rest of your lives together.

Needless to say the night had started off pleasantly, and continued to be pleasant until Chris made an unsuspecting comment.

As the evening had progressed, Chan and Hannah began reminiscing about their childhood and their close family bond to you. You wanted to know as much about Chan's family as possible, since Hannah had been the only one you had met so far. Chan was in high spirits as he talked about their family’s recent vacation and how close-knit they all were.

You listened to both of them, admiring the way they smiled the same and how they both had love and adoration pouring out of them as they spoke about their family.

Hannah then turned to you, and smiled.

"So Y/N, do you have any siblings?"

You opened your mouth to speak but Chan interupted, wanting to tell his sister all about his s/o.

"Y/N has siblings but they rarely ever talk about them. Matter of fact for the longest time I thought they were an only child." Chan said with a laugh. “Honestly, I never hear much about any of Y/N’s family,”

The casual delivery of Chan’s comment hit you hard. It felt like a sharp dismissal of your own family dynamics, and you couldn’t help but feel that your family was being trivialized or ignored. Your relationship with your siblings had always been a source of insecurity for you, and hearing Chan’s remark made those feelings painfully real.

You knew he intended to play it off as a joke; that he would never purposefully taske a low blow at your familial bonds- especially considering you didn't ever talk about your family, so he had no way of knowing just how much his words weighed.

Hannah laughed slightly and then looked over at you cautiosuly as you took a sip out of your wine glass. Chan was about to say something but Jeongin ran over excitedly with Felix, rambling on about something that Chris just had to come and see.

You took this as an opportunity to extract yourself from the conversation using the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom, feeling a wave of hurt wash over you. You needed to escape the situation and process the sting of Chan’s words, so you found a quiet corner in the apartment, away from the group.

Hannah, noticing your sudden withdrawal and sensing the discomfort, followed tentatively.

"Y/N?" She asked quietly. You looked up and smiled, silently thanking God that you hadn't shed any tears because that would have been extremely embarrassing.

"Hi Hannah." You said, trying to keep your voice even.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit...upset at what my brother said." She squeezed in next to you in the love seat you were occupying.

"I'm okay."

"You're lying." Hannah says blatantly, looking at you with a pointed look. "I'm not exactly sure what sturck a nerve, but just know my brither is dumb. He's a guy and you know guys do idiotic things sometimes." She says with a sigh. "But...if you want we can talk about it."

You swallowed and felt at ease with Hannah, which was strange considering you had just met a few hours ago. But you knew you could trust her.

"It's just...he's right about me never talking about my family. I...you know I just figured maybe he would have assumed my relationship with them was strained considering I don't bring them up often or especially considering that I moved away from them in the first place? Like...I don't know...it just...kinda sucked to hear him make that kind of joke?"

You continued ranting to Hannah and she listened attentively, while on the other side of the apartment Chris was searching for you.

"Minho have you seen Y/N or Hannah?" He asked the slightly younger member, who shrugged.

He made his way over towards the formal living room and saw you and Hannah talking animatedly.

He smiled to himself, happy that you were getting along so well with your soon-to-be future sister-in-law.

But that happiness immediately washed away when he saw you were crying.

He rushed over to you without a second thought, kneeling down in front of you.

"Baby, what's wrong? What happened?"

Hannah looked at her brother with a pointed look. "You can be rather dense big bro." She said sarcastically.

Chan looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Hannah took a deep breath, her tone careful. "The comment you made about Y/N’s family—saying it’s almost like they don’t even have a family—could be seen as dismissive. Saying things like that might make someone - in this case Y/N - feel like their family isn’t valued or important."

Chan’s face showed a mix of confusion and realization. “I didn’t mean to be hurtful. I was just commenting on our own family experiences and made a joke...”

Hannah nodded. “I understand, but sometimes comments like that can come across as more critical than intended. Comments like that might make someone feel like their family doesn’t measure up to ours.” Hannah looked at you, as you looked at Chris. "Which is nonsense. Because everyone's familial dynamics are different. You just have to take the time to understand the differences." Hannah wraps her arms around you, laying her head on your shoulder. "And Y/N will make our family even greater."

Chan’s expression shifted to one of regret as he turned to look at you. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, he gently took your hand. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize my words would come across that way. I never meant to suggest that your family isn’t important or that you don’t have strong connections. Although...I don't know about your family connections. I never asked and I'm horrible for that. I'm so sorry love.”

You looked at him, your voice trembling with emotion. “You're not horrible Chris. Don't say that. It’s not entirely your fault, I never open up about my family. I’ve always struggled with feeling like my family dynamics and the way my family functions aren’t as great as others’, and hearing that made me feel even more isolated. Even if it's true-”

Chris's face hardenened. "Its not true Y/N. Just because you're family may not be close, doesn't mean that they should be minimized to nothing by stupid comments like the one I made. And...family isn't always blood you know?" You smiled at the accent he had when saying "know". It was something that had made you melt for him so quickly after meeting him, and to this day still made your stomach flutter. "You have me, you have the guys, and now you Hannah." He said motioning to his younger sister, who looked up at you with a smile, still clinging on to you.

Chan’s face softened with genuine remorse. "I’m truly sorry for making you feel this way. My comment was thoughtless, and I should have been more aware of how it might affect you. Your family is important, and I never meant to belittle your experiences." Chan continued; his voice filled with sincerity. "I want you to know that I care about you and your family. I’ll be more mindful of my words in the future to ensure I don’t hurt you. And if it's okay with you I'd love to learn more so I can at least begin to understand."

Chan pulled you into a gentle hug, his embrace comforting. “You’re not lacking in any way. We all have different family experiences, and that doesn’t make yours any less significant. I’m here for you, and I value you and your family.”

The evening ended on a more positive note, with Chan’s apology helping to mend the rift caused by his thoughtless comment. Hannah’s intervention had been crucial in bringing the impact of his words to light, and her support was deeply appreciated.

Which you vocalized.

Along with Hannah's vocalization of Chris's idiocy.

"You can be such an idiot Chris." Hannah stated later on in the evening. The rest of the guys had gone home and it was just you, Hannah and Chris in his apartment.

You sat on the couch, waiting for your boyfriend to come back with some snacks for an all nighter cartoon marathon of Hannah's accord.

As the theme song of Adventure Time played in the background Hannah gave up on helping her brother set snacks on the coffee table and decided to come cuddle next to you on the couch.

Chris just looked in shock as his sister placed her back up against your shoulder, and kicked her feet out taking up the majority of the couch, causing Chan to squeeze in between you and the arm of the sofa.

Hannah mindlessly munched on snacks as the show played, her attention completely encapsulated with it, but Chris completely focused on his annoyance.

"Hannah you do realize that Y/N is my partner right?" He said with a huff, as you cuddled into him with a chuckle.

Hannah shrugged. "Yeah, but I could easily steal Y/N from you, I have so much rizz you can't even fathom it." She said without so much as a blink of an eye.

Chris huffed once more. "Y/N would never leave me for you."

Hannah snorted. "Never say never, Chris."

Chan looked at you as you smiled.

"You wouldn't leave me for Hannah would you jagiya?" He whispered quietly, thinking his sister was too engrossed with Jake making bacon pancakes to hear your hushed conversations.

"Never." You said quietly, pecking him on the lips.

Hannah held back the ogre-ish gag she wanted to give to tease you two, and instead smiled.

Silently agreeing with her brother that they had the best family dynamic.

Especially when you'd be joining it one day too.

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[headfarintheclouds]

Kenji Sato As A Boyfriend HC

I finally had some time to sit down and write something TuT Hope you'll like it :D If there is any Gramma mistakes I apologize, English is not my first language ToT

Ken would put you first no matter the situation. Sure he loves Baseball and all, but if you got hurt or sick he would totally skip practice or the game to be with you. Even if you insist on him leaving, after all Mina is more than capable of taking care of you.

Before getting together with him you lived in a normal apartment near the city center. But after the news of you dating spread out Kenji swooped in and all but made you live with him in his mansion. His reason being, that he wanted to keep you save from the journalists and Kaiju's but deep down you knew he was waiting for the opportunity to have you for himself 24/7.

If you don't speak Japanese he will teach you. He finds it absolutely adorable whenever you try to pronounce an especially hard word. Your accent makes it so much more endearing for him.

He has multitude of nicknames for you. There is rarely time when he uses your real name when addressing you. Baby girl, Princess and Doll are definitely his favorite ones. If he's feeling especially sappy he'll call you Darling or Beautiful.

He's clingy. Not overly so, but he tends to hover over you or hold your hand whenever the two of you were in public. At first you thought he liked the PDA and you weren't wrong, but the hand holding was purely because he was scared. "I know it's stupid, but I always have this irrational fear of your disappearing like my mom did. And I can't function without you by my side, princess."

Ken is a great cook ! He would totally make you breakfast in bed after his morning training session. Dinner made by him was a rare treat you learned to enjoy, after all he was juggling being a baseball star and a superhero. Not to mention he was an adopted daddy to a very adorable Kaiju living underneath your guys' house.

Speaking of Emi. If you thought she was a daddy's girl you are solely mistaken, because as soon as you enter the room she looses all interest in Ken all together. Of course she still adores him, but you are by far her favorite human ! She chirps and claps her hands in excitement whenever you enter the base. I melts Ken's heart whenever he sees the two of you interacting with one another. He has so many photos of you and Emi saved on his phone !

He loves to see you in his clothes, especially with his jersey on. He still has an old one from the time he played for Dodgers and you use it as a nightie. It's comfortable ! And it does things to him too... God the first time you put it on. Let's just say you couldn't walk for a day or two after ;)

We all know Kenji is rich-rich. So it's no surprise he buys you expensive gifts all the time. You once mentioned that you liked a specific car, and guess what ? The week after that there was a new shiny (dream car) in your favorite color, parked outside the mansion. After that incident you stopped mentioning things you liked or wanted to buy in fear of him going bankrupt. He told Mina to hack your Amazon Wishlist and bought you all of the items just to spite you.

If you work or study he will support you every step of the way. Just like you support him during his games. If you are a university student he will sit down with you and ask you some questions, help you study and keep an eye on you. He wants you to be successful yes, but you still need to sleep and eat !

Kenji likes to mess with you in his Ultraman form, much to his fathers disapproval. Whenever he takes care of Emi he has to transform, and he uses every opportunity to pluck you from the ground and place you on his shoulder. The first time he did it you screamed like a banshee making poor baby Emi jump in fright. Thank God she doesn't really speak human language, you would die of shame if she repeated any of the words you called Kenji that time.

After a year of being together he'll start carrying a small velvet box around. And inside would a ring his father proposed to his mother with, something she gave him long time ago. He would wait patiently, looking for the best way and time to pop the question. But until then he'll enjoy your company and make more memories with you and Emi by his side :)

I hope ya'll liked it ! I feel really good about this one ngl :D GOD I LOVE THIS MAN !

[jflemings]

— loose lips sink ships

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2

synopsis: after portland play seattle, janine accidentally tells you that jessie had been with her ex olivia for most of college after you’d been told that they only dated for a couple of months.

warnings: a lil angst, trust issues (kinda)

a/n: for the sake of the fic, olivia athens is jessie’s ex. took inspo from an ask i got a lil while back

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you were looking to break the deadlock when it happened.

one minute the ball was leaving your feet and the next you were on the ground clutching your nose as blood pooled in your hand. you’d gotten an elbow to the nose as you ran up the wing, looking to find sophia who wasn’t too far in front of you.

the tackle had been clean for the most part. it wasn’t mistimed, or malicious, the midfielder had just thrown her elbow back into face after you’d passed it. her foot had hooked around your left ankle as she’d tried to get in front of you and you’d grabbed the back of her jersey. it had been a complete accident. nevertheless, it ended with the two of you on your respective benches, you nursing a hopefully not broken nose and her a badly twisted ankle.

jessie was by your side in an instant when you fell to your knees and leant over into a foetal position, one hand on your shoulder whilst the other tried to gently grasp your hand away from your face. the look of worry in her eyes was enough for you to know that it was bad, or at least that it looked like it was. she’d grimaced when she saw all the blood and soph had gasped from where she was standing behind your girlfriend.

now you hold an ice pack to your nose as you watch both teams shake hands and come off the pitch. portland had won and while you assumed that some form of celebration was in order, you knew that you weren’t going to go.

“swollen face really suits you” janine quips as she walks over to you “she got you good”

you roll your eyes and pull the ice pack off your face briefly “not good enough to break it, thank god” you say stuffily “we got the three points and i’m walking away not needing surgery so i’d say that’s a pretty successful day in the office”

the older canadian nods “i take it you’re not coming out with us?”

“unless you want me to walk around with a cold compress on my face the whole time, no” you deadpan “it’s not a very attractive look”

“i don’t think jessie would mind” she muses with a playful smirk “she doesn’t care what you look like”

“that makes one of us”

janine rolls her eyes and sits beside you, tapping your knee affectionately “kinda funny that jessie’s ex is the one that elbowed you” she says as she half laughs.

you furrow your brows and have the sudden realisation that you don’t actually know where jessie is since she hadn’t come over to you after the final whistle. you scan the area, craning your neck to try to get a better look when you spot her in a sea of deep blue. you spot her easily in portland red and expect her to be talking to jordyn or quinn, but instead find her chatting with olivia athens.

she’s standing over her as olivia sits on the bench. jessie’s hand sits delicately on her shoulder as the two of them talk and laugh in their own little bubble.

the sight of it makes you feel weird.

you tilt your head in confusion “she dated athens?” you question.

“yeah, for most of college. you didn’t know?”

you while your head around to janine, pulling the ice off your face to reveal your swollen nose. she grimaces at the sight before seeing your shocked expression.

“most of college? what does that mean?”

“…that they dated for two and a half years before she moved to london” she answers slowly “you seriously didn’t know?”

“no, i knew that she dated someone in college for a couple of months. not that she dated someone for two and a half years!” you huff

realisation dawns on janine rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to guilt as she thinks over what she’s just said to you. she punches her mouth “jess told you they were only together for a couple of months?”

“and that they’d broken up way before she moved to chelsea”

the canadian suddenly can’t look you in the eye. she attempts to divert her attention elsewhere, trying to find a way out of this conversation before you smack her on the leg.

“janine” you say sternly.

she relents with a sigh “they broke up because of the distance. they both thought it would be better if they split because olivia was going to be playing in the states and they didn’t want— where are you going!?” she cuts herself off abruptly as you stand and make your way towards the tunnel.

“shower” you say shortly, not daring to look at jessie as you pass her on your way.

you staunch into change rooms and grab your shower bag and your clothes before making your way to the showers. everyone was still outside mingling but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your teammates started to trickle in so you took the opportunity as it presented itself and basked in the quiet.

you immediately turn on the hot water and let it steam slightly before ridding yourself of your soiled kit, stepping in and relaxing once you feel the water run down your back. you go through your shower routine almost dazed, the thought of jessie purposefully lying to you lingering in the back of your mind.

when jessie made the move to chelsea you were playing at manchester city with janine. she had insisted that the two of you meet and quickly introduced you to the younger canadian at a small get together at her place.

jessie had made an immediate impression on you. she was a little awkward, yes, but once the two of you got talking you quickly realised that she was incredibly smart and funny. the pair of you spent the whole night chatting and getting to know eachother before exchanging numbers with the promise of meeting up without janine.

a friendship quickly blossomed and you found yourself harbouring secret romantic feelings for the canadian. you kept them under wraps relatively well until janine and lauren hemp spotted you smiling at your phone a little too wide, leaving them to all but squeeze the information out of you. janine promised to keep your secret and to not do any meddling on the condition that you at least tried to make a move.

you, of course, had protested immediately until she started listing off reasons why it was a good idea, accidentally letting it slip that your feelings weren’t one sided in her rushed rant. you did what she wanted and asked jessie out with no mention of the fact that her best friend had been the one to out her secret.

when the topic of past relationships came up jessie had explicitly said that she had dated one person through college and that it had only been for a couple of months, claiming that the two of them really were just better as friends. she told you that they had dated in the beginning of her second last year, that it wasn’t anything serious, and that they had broken up long before chelsea came knocking.

your relationship grew and eventually you decided that it was time to leave the wsl. portland had made each of you an offer that you couldn’t refuse, so the two of you packed up your lives in london and crossed the pond.

replaying that conversation in your head feels like a slap in the face. jessie, to your knowledge, had never lied to you or withheld the truth in anyway, so to find out that she hadn’t been completely honest with you in the very beginning of your relationship had you running hot.

the two of you weren’t a secret in the footballing world, but you knew that it wasn’t something that was well known. the two of you had chosen to let fans speculate about the nature of your relationship whilst being honest with those around you, it was just easier that way.

you didn’t know if olivia knew you were together, or if she knew that jessie was even in a relationship. you didn’t know if they kept in contact, if they still knew eachother well, or if jessie had even thought about her before she clocked you in the nose.

you just didn’t know.

voices interrupt your train of thought and you quickly turn off the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off and getting changed in hopes that your teammates will be too distracted with themselves to notice you slipping out. as you go to leave to go back to your cubby, you catch janine’s guilty eye. she smiles apologetically at you before turning to get in her own shower, leaving you to what you were doing.

jessie pretty much runs into you on the way to her shower, steadying the two of you as your shoulders collide. her hand squeezes your bicep as she smiles and looks at your nose.

“it’s not broken” you say “it looked worse than what it is”

your girlfriend breathes a relieved sigh “thank god for that” she says as she grabs your jaw gently, moving your head so she can look at your whole face properly “you’re pretty swollen” she observes.

you take your face out of her hand “yeah. i just need to ice it on and off and take it easy and i’ll be fine” you say almost emotionless “nothing to worry about”

the canadian tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying you. even with your nose she didn’t expect you to be so down, your stoic attitude catching her a bit off guard. even if you got injured you were still known to at least attempt to crack a smile if it wasn’t serious. she recalls a time when you had sprained your knee during a city vs chelsea match; you were obviously distraught and in pain when you went down but by the time the game was over you were managing to smile and just be grateful that you hadn’t done your ACL.

your girlfriend squints “are you okay?”

“aside from the nose? yeah, fine.” you say as you pass her.

jessie’s quick to grab your hand and pull you back, her voice minimising to a whisper “y/n” she says

“i’m fine jessie” you falsely assure as you take your hand back “just tired”

she lets you go without much protest, her eyes following you until you’re out of her sight. her mouth flattens into a line and she shakes her head, gripping her jeans and t-shirt tightly as she makes her way to the shower.

janine watches the interaction from across the room and feels the overwhelming urge to go after you, or to at least explain to jessie, but she knows that she’s run her mouth enough for one day.

you walk into your shared apartment and immediately drop your things onto the kitchen bench whilst you raid your freeze for a bag of frozen peas. jessie trails behind cautiously. the car ride had been pretty much silent despite her best efforts to make conversation, leaving her feeling like there was something else that was wrong with you.

she watches you place the peas on your face and close your eyes with a sigh. she’s unsure how to bring up the obvious tension between the two of you, especially since your patience seems to be wearing thin already. she doesn’t like to fight with you but she also doesn’t like feeling the need to walk on eggshells.

she leans her forearms on the kitchen counter “babe” she says into the silence “what’s up? you’ve been frosty since after the game”

“i got an elbow to the face jess” you sass “i’d say that’s a reason to be frosty”

jessie rolls her eyes “that’s not what i meant”

you wave her off quickly and release a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of some of the tension “i’m tired and i’m sore, jess, that’s all. seriously”

“okay…” she says slowly “i was going to go out with the team but—”

“no, go” you cut her off as you place the bag of frozen vegetables on the bench “have fun, i’ll be fine”

she stands up straight and runs her hand over the back of her neck “are you sure? because if you don’t want me to i won’t”

the truth was that you kind of didn’t want her to go. you knew that while jordyn and quinn would be there, olivia probably would be too. you heard a few of your teammates say that some of the seattle girls were going to join your team for drinks, and you weren’t too keen on having your girlfriend’s ex hanging around without you there.

it was stupid. really, it was. jessie adored you and you trusted her immensely, but knowing that she had told you something that wasn’t true in the beginning of your relationship had planted small seeds of doubt. you were left wondering what else she could’ve possibly lied to you about, and how it would affect your relationship if any of it was made known to you now.

your need to keep the peace overrides the need to find out the truth. “i’m sure. tell jords and quinny that i say hi” you say softly, walking around the bench and placing a soft hand to her cheek.

she leans into you and kisses the palm of your hand before you walk to your living room and turning on the tv, hoping to find something to take your mind off of everything.

jessie, on the other hand, goes straight to your bedroom to start to get ready. you can hear your wardrobe doors and drawers open and close as she looks for what she wants to wear before she walks out and past you to go to your laundry dressed in just a plain shirt, boxes and socks “have you seen my light wash jeans, babe?”

“which ones, you’ve got a million pairs” you ask as you flick through your streaming services.

jessie goes through dirty and clean laundry as she answers you loudly “the more loose fitted ones. i wore them last week to dinner with sinc and janine”

“bottom left drawer under your dark blue ones”

she’s quick to rush back into your bedroom and grab them, stumbling back into the hallway as she puts one leg on. you watch her struggle before she does up her fly and comes back over to you, kissing your cheek firmly “sam and soph are coming to get me, i won’t be home late and i’ll call a cab if i need to” she says into your skin, kissing you again.

you shake your head “i can come get you”

she brushes your hair back “no, it’s okay. you just try to get that swelling to go down. i promise i’ll only be a few hours”

all you can do is nod as you watch her grab her things and walk out the door, the pit of doubt only growing in your stomach as she shuts it behind her.

[angelfrombeneth]

THE HOTEL - A . DONALDSON

Sexual Content Ahead

Art Donaldson x Fem!Chubby Gymnast Reader

Summary: The US Open wasn't just a tennis event, it was a dating pool and you were definitely successful this year.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, use of Y/N, P in V, Art is a munch, Art and Y/N yearning for one another

Note: If you have any suggestions for ANY sort of fic, do send me an ask. I do check them 💗

US OPEN 2006

Tashi had her final today. You were extremely excited. You had taken time off training to visit her. She didn't know you were coming and she was going to be so stoked.

You and Tashi have been friends for 13 years, both of you growing up together at such a young age. You watched her ease into the tennis scene to become the amazing player she is now. Likewise for you, she had watched you grow as a gymnast and the excitement you both had when you got scouted for the Olympic team in 2004, as you began training towards the next Olympics which was 2008.

Both of you bonded over your love for your own sport. Both of you dipping into eachothers sport and helping eachother train.

You walked into the area Tashi's mother said she'd be. You smiled, walking past the many rushing tennis managers and people. You didn't understand much about the logistics behind it.

Your low rise white shorts, clinging to your figure as you sported the matching cropped jumper and wore your bikini top below. It was a very hot day conveniently and you being a fashion obsessed girl, you had many outfits. Your belly button piercing shining with the sun that peak through the windows within the hallway as you stalked closer to the room she was in.

You knocked on the door, clutching your bag as you smiled.

'One minute!'

You heard, as you hear clamoring on the otherside of the door.

You watched as the door flung open to reveal your best friend as you smiled brightly at her.

"Y/N! YOU CAME!" She squealed jumping forward and hugging you tightly.

"Of course I would!" You hugged her back smiling as you both pulled away. "This is the fucking US Open, of course I'd come to see your final".

"I was worried you'd be too caught up and I didn't want to bother you" She smiled as she ushered you into the room.

You shut the door behind you, smiling as you sat upon a free chair, crossing your legs. "Tashi you never bother me. Your like a sister to me of course I'm going to support you. You are always there for me"

She smiled, sighing as she sat back in her chair. "God, its not that I'm nervous. I'll definitely win" You chuckled as that comment. "I'm just... I don't know, I don't want to let people down"

"Tashi. Shush. You are literally amazing, you have a fanbase already. You are going to do amazing" You smiled at her.

"Thanks Y/N. God, how have you been! How's training been?"

"Its been great, I'm really getting into the rhythm of everything especially because the Olympics are so close now only 2 years. I'm definitely nervous but I'll be prepared" She smiled at you, her eyes glistening as she watched you speak with such excitement about your sport.

"Any boys" She smirked, raising her brow.

"Don't be silly, I'd never date a gymnast, can't mix work and pleasure" You both laughed. "What about you? Any boys?"

She shook her head. "You know what my Dads like. No ones good enough for me"

"He's not wrong" You shrugged.

Tashi rolled her eyes, a light chuckle leaves her lips as she looked to the clock. "I like this" She smiled leaning forward and touching the velvet material of your shorts.

"Thank you! It's actually something they got made for the team" You turned around, revealing a tiny embroidered logo on the back of the jacket 'TEAM US'

"Ooo love it. I need one of these" She smiled.

You peered to the clock, smiling as you stood up, grabbing your bag. "I'm going to get to the stands. You'll do great out there" You smiled, your hand upon her shoulder as you leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"Oh I know" She smirked at you.

"That's my girl!" You cheered, as you opened the door, waving at her before making your way out towards the court.

It was a very hot day today, extremely hot. The sun was beating down on you like you were in hell and being burt alive. Perfect weather for tanning you definitely thought multiple times.

You made your way to the stands, smiling at Tashi's family as you waved to them. Opting to sit closer to the centre of the court to watch the whole game play out. You took your place, settling your legs over one another and your bag in your lap as you pulled your hair up and clipped it with your clear claw clip.

You closed your eyes, sighing as you leaned back slightly, basking in the gentle beat of the sun as you pulled your sunglasses down. Tapping your foot against the air as your flip flop slipped up and down on your foot but perfectly balanced so it never fell off.

You relaxed, enjoying the beat of the sun but you felt a shadow cast over you. A pair of shadows.

You opened your eyes and pulled up your sunglasses as you looked at the two men stood above you.

"Are you Y/N Y/L?" The brunette one spoke.

"Yes" You smiled.

"I told you!-" He turned to his blonde friend as they both sat next to you.

"Its a pleasure to meet you. I'm not a huge gymnastics fan, but you are amazing at what you do and we'll obviously your Tashi's best friend" The brunette said.

"Tashi fans, I see" You smirked, sitting up as you looked to the two of them. "Do you want to sit?"

The blonde's face looked shocked while the brunette smirked, the two quickly sitting beside you.

"Wow. You really are an angel" The blonde one spoke.

"Thanks" You chuckled, a pink hue covered his face as he nibbled at his lip, looking down.

"So your both here to watch Tashi?"

The brunette nodded. "He's never seen her play and I was telling him he needs to. She's like the hottest woman alive" He blurts out, pointing to his friend, which made you chuckle.

Before the blonde could protest, the announcers voice filled the stadium. His eyes were focused on you as you turned to look at the court watching as Tashi's competitor entered.

"Whats it like?"

You turned your head to look at him. "Whats what like? Being friends with Tashi?"

"No, being an Olympian"

You were taken back. Most people who were into tennis would ask you what's it like being friends with Tashi. Not asking much about you. It didn't bother you because they shared a common interest - Tennis. But sometimes it did irk you.

"Oh- Its um.. its really amazing. Its such a blessing I'm very grateful" You smiled. He smiled at you, as both of you turned to watch the court as the crowd roared as Tashi walked out.

You focused on the game. Watching as Tashi darted across the court. She was truly amazing at what she does. You could hear mumbles from beside you from the two boys which made you chuckle. The way their eyes never left Tashi. Little did you know, the blonde took any chance to glance at you.

"COME ONNN!" Tashi screamed as she hit the winner. The scream didn't startle you as it had become a tradition whenever Tashi wins. You smiled brightly, clapping. You knew she'd win.

Her eyes darted to the stands as she found you, smiling to you as you picked up your hand and waved.

You smiled, sighing as you stood up. The two boys beside you staring up at you. The blonde's eyes never left your face, the way his gaze held on your features was mesmerising. Whereas the brunette, his gaze faltered as he glanced up and down, checking you out.

"Will I see you boys later at the Adidas party?" You smiled down as them.

"Um I d-"

"Yes! We will see you there!" The brunette cut off his friend as he nudged the boy.

"Great, I look forward to it" You gazed at the blonde, nibbling on the corner of your lip as you smiled at him. "See you later" You shimmied past the boys.

You skipped down the stairs, towards Tashi's family greeting them as you arrived.

ADIDAS AFTER PARTY

You and Tashi were dancing together. You two were big party girls, you planned to go to college together and live the party girl life - but with you getting scouted you wouldn't go to college but Tashi vowed she would. You would visit and you two would party hard together.

Tashi wore a beautiful strapless blue dress, as her hair hung low on her shoulders as she twirled around in the Royal blue.

You wore a little black dress, probably not entirely appropriate but you were always the slightly more scandalous one when it came to outfits.

"We've got some admirers" Tashi smirked, as she twirled you round as your eyes locked upon the two boys from earlier. You span back around, smiling at her as the two of you danced very raunchy upon one another. "I saw them sat with you at my match, the blonde one seems to be enamoured"

"He's so fucking cute Tashi, I can't get over it" You smirked, turning around and pushing your ass against Tashi's front as you slowly dropped to the floor and got back up so effortlessly. "The brunette one fucks with you. Alot"

"He's definitely my type. Seems very assertive" She smirked. You laughed as she took your hand and pulled you over to the seating at the side.

The pair of you sat and watched as the boys gravitated towards you both.

"You were amazing- I'm P-"

"I know who you are" Tashi smiled. You looked at her, confused because you didn't know who they were. "Fire and Ice right?" Then it all clicked. You had watched them a few times before with Tashi.

"Of course you know us" Patrick laughed.

"So which ones which" You smiled, pointing at the two of them as you leaned into Tashi. Which one was the fire, and which one was the ice. You do wonder.

They both chuckled at the two of you. You couldn't help but notice the way Art's gaze lingered on you even if he was talking to Tashi. She noticed it also.

The four of you engaged in light conversation before you were interupted.

"Tashi, sorry to bother you but we need you for pictures baby" Tashi's dad smiled.

"Sorry guys, hope you enjoy the party though!" Tashi smiled, taking your hand as she pulled you away with her.

The rest of the party went by quite quickly, you and Tashi enjoyed yourselves and you were glad to have been there with her.

You held your heels in your hands as you giggled, walking down the stairs to the house with Tashi in hand.

"I can't believe she had the audacity to even speak to you after doing that" You laughed.

"Hey!-"

You both turned to the voice, noticing Patrick and Art sat on some chairs in the corner. The two of you walked towards the boys.

"Hey? I thought you guys would've went home. You have a final tomorrow" Tashi spoke.

"Oh we both know how it's going to go"

"Its just the juniors"

The two boys spoke over eachother as you and Tashi raised and eyebrow at eachother.

"Do you both smoke?" Patrick asked the pair of you.

"No I can't, because of training" You shook your head

"No, why. Do you two?" Tashi asked as the two nodded.

"Come to the beach with us" Patrick pleaded.

"We really have to get back, but it was nice meeting you boys" Tashi smiled.

"Come to our room. Your in the same hotel as us I'm assuming. We are in room 206" Patrick peered to the both of you. A cigarette hanging from his mouth.

You chuckled, the way Art was so tentatively listening as his gaze pierced yours.

"We have beer-" Patricks only barging chip as he stared at the two of you.

"Goodnight boys" Tashi chuckled, the two of you walking away.

THE HOTEL

You weren't going to go. But the second you both got back you rushed to change into something comfy but also sexy. Tashi was confused by your action but you pleaded her to go. You had to see that blonde again.

"Y/N, he's going to Stanford with me. You can see him again then-"

"No Tash- He was giving me the 'fuck me eyes' I can't let this one slip through the cracks" You snapped. Pulling on the shortest shorts of your life as you slipped your chest into the tightest and most flattering bikini top you had.

Tashi laughed, changing into some shorts and a jacket as she looked at you. "You like him hm"

You nod as you looked at her, pulling your jacket on but stopping the zip so you can perfectly see your breasts.

She shook her head laughing as the pair of you both slipped on a pair of slippers and exited her room.

You both listened as you knocked once more. Hearing the boys scramble behind the door, mumbling to one another as you heard things being thrown around.

The pair of you stood up straight as the door flung open as they both stood infront of you. Your eyes instantly gravitate to Art, stood in his stanford tshirt and shorts.

"Do come in" Patrick ushered the two of you in. You noticed his absence of a shirt as he opted for a more freeing feel. You can't help but think how this is him all over.

The four of you sat on the floor, a lone can of beer in the middle as you and Tashi smiled at the boys.

"So.. how often does this happen" Tashi peered to the two boys.

"What?-" Art questioned

"Going for a pair of best friends. You get one each right" Tashi raised her brow.

"Not as often as you think" Patrick shrugged, opening the can and taking a swig of beer.

"You see, Patrick has a girlfriend"

"I do not" Patrick snapped at Art.

You smirked, amused by the two boys infront of you.

"So you have a girlfriend and what about you." Tashi looked at Art.

"Well Art, he's between ladies" Patrick smirked.

Art instantly hit Patrick, shaking gis head as he peered to you. "Now don't say that. It makes me seem like some sort of- what is it-"

"Player?" You raised your eyebrow.

"Yes that. Which I am not" He grit his teeth towards Patrick.

Tashi continued to talk to the boys. You opted to sit and listen. You couldn't help but let your eyes trail upon Art's figure. The way his muscles peeped from the shirt as you nibbled at your bottom lip. Fuck you were getting hot and bothered just looking at him.

"And he was just sat there.. just covered in it. He looked like a kid who spilt milk all over himself" Patrick laughed.

You were watching Art closely, the way his cheeks tinted pink as he got embarrassed. You were really paying attention to the story - you were too busy checking him out. But you know it was something about jerking off.

You felt movement beside you as Tashi stood up, looking around as she sat upon the bed. Smiling down at the three of you.

"Come" She looked at the group.

"Which one of us-" Art started before Patrick scrambled to her side.

You watched as Art didn't flinch. Didn't move. He sat on the floor still, looking at you. This made you smile. Finally someone who was interested in you.

You stood up, dusting yourself off as you sat upon the bed too, beside Tashi as you took Art's hand pulling him up with you.

You peered to the side, noticing Tashi and Patrick already making out with one another - rather aggressively.

Art sat beside you, his bottom lip caged in by his teeth as he stared at you. His eyes focused on yours, no wandering gaze at all.

You slid your hand around his neck as you leaned in, placing your lips onto his softly.

Quickly the two of you moulded together. His hand snaked it's way to your hip as he held you softly, pulling you closer. Your legs kicked up and hung over his as the the two of you deepened the kiss.

Your lips, moving against one another. His tongue darting into your mouth as it swirled around. You couldn't help but nip at his lip. The kiss was quick but very passionate. It gave you butterflies to say the least.

He pulled away, pushing your hair aside as he sucked on your neck. His lips suctioned to the skin as he kissed down it. Leaving slight red marks peppered across your neck as you softly sighed. A light moan leaving your lips.

Your eyes trailed to Tashi as she peered to you, smirking as she basically controlled Patrick's every movement.

Your gaze didn't linger long as Art nipped at your ear, causing you to let out a soft yelp as he tugged as it, before pulling away.

You stared at one another, lips plump, swallowen and covered in eachothers saliva as you panted softly.

Tashi clasped her hands together loudly standing up as she looked at you. "We should get going"

You looked at her, slightly dazed as Art's hand softly interlocked with yours. You stood up, standing beside Tashi

"But what about your number-" Patrick spoke.

"You'll have to guess" Tashi smiled. You looked at Art, a silent exchange before you and Tashi exited the room.

You hated Tashi for cutting that short. You wanted him. You wanted to run back and have more. Take him where he stood but Tashi said the wait would make him want you more.

During the night, you got up, slipping out of the room quietly as you walked down the hall. You found yourself yet again outside room 206.

You knocked on the door, instantly regretting it and going to turn around to run off, but the door opened.

"Y/N?" Art looked at you. His hair slightly disheaved like he had been sleeping. The room pitch black behind him.

"Oh- You were sleeping I'm sorry. I just- Had to see you" You toyed with your fingers.

A breathy chuckle, left his mouth as his hand touched yours as he smiled at you. "God you are truly breath taking" He sighed, his hands fit on your hips as he pulled you closer, his lips landing on yours once more.

It was rough and passionate, but still pleasurable. Your arms made its way around his neck as you pulled him closer. Your tongue toying with his as the kiss became sloppy and needier.

Art backed up into the room, as you kicked the door shut behind you. Darkness engulfing the two of you. You both chuckled as you navigated your way to the bed, feeling around for any sort of object as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

You fell back against the plush of the bed, breaking the kiss as you peered up at him. It was dark but you could still see just how perfect he was. You peered to the side to notice a sleeping Patrick beside you as you looked back to Art.

"Don't be too loud" He smirked, lifting you up and throwing you down higher up the bed. He crawled ontop of you, caging you in as you both smiled at one another.

"Do you get off on this? Your friend being right there?" You whispered, your arm around his neck as you pulled his closer to you.

"I'm not going to wake him up and kick him out. Took him ages to finally get to sleep he was jerking off for hours after you both left" He whispered back. You chuckled, as your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it off as you pulled him in, kissing him once again.

Art pulled away, stripping himself of his clothes as he kneeled before you in just his boxers. You quickly stripped yourself of your shorts and jacket, throwing them across the room as you tugged on the knot of your bikini top letting it drop off.

"Fuck-" Art bit his lip, pulling the bikini off you as he left it sprawled on the bed beside the two of you. His lips travelling down your body, sucking and nipping at the skin. Leaving countless of marks but due to the darkness you wouldnt know till morning.

Art gripped your plush thighs tightly, groaning as he lowered his face between your legs. His mouth, sucking the fat of your thighs as he definitely left dark hickeys between them. His groans as he nipped at the flesh. Your hands found its way into his hair as you tugged at it, biting your lip to suppress your moan.

"You make me so fucking hard.." He groaned, kissing your lower stomach as he bit your panties, pulling them down with his teeth. "Fuck me.. you are sculpted by a goddess..." His hands found its way to your plush stomach, kneading the flesh as he licked his lips.

Art's lips trailed up your thigh, kissing and nipping at the skin as he tugged your panties off and dropped them to the floor.

You stared down at him, biting your lip as you saw his silhouettes move within the dark. He stared up at you, as his head perfectly positioned infront of your core, smiling as his lip sucked under his teeth as a slightly blush crept onto your cheeks.

"Mhmm.. You ready?" He smiled at you, that gorgeous golden retriever type smile. Art had you in his fucking clutches and you were melting, melting badly for this boy.

You nodded, rendered speechless by his movements. A light chuckle left his lips before he dove in - his tongue lapping over your folds as you threw your head back and reached to grip at his hair - gasping.

"H-holy fuck-" You croaked out a whisper as your back arched against the bed, your hair tugging at his locks but pushing him futher into you.

His tongue worked magic on you, swirling over your folds, diving into places that haven't yet been touched. You have never felt this way before, not even your hand could do this.

You were constantly taking long gasps of air as you whined quietly. Art's large pale hands, reached round both your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh harshly as he continued to devour on you.

You couldn't think, the way he was pampering, being attentive you were cared for and feeling good. Your breath began to quicken as you bit your lip, sighing. "Art- I'm close-" You croaked as your leg began to shake as you drew closer to your climax.

Art pulled away for a brief moment which had you overwhelmed - especially how close you were. But before you could protest he was leaning over you, his lips crashed onto yours as his fingers dove into you, fingering you through your high.

You pulled away, mouth hung open as whines fell from your lips, your hand tightly gripping his bicep as your toes curled as his fingers pistoned in and out of you. Your eyes rolling back as your whole body twitched as you came against his finger. "Ffffffuck!-" You choked.

Art wore a smirk, he was proud of himself, making you cum and making you so weak. He withdrew his fingers from you, instantly connecting with his mouth as he lapped his tongue around them, peering down at you as you watched him.

"Sweet. Just how I like it" He smiled, as he kneeled back on his legs as he looked at you.

After composing yourself you sat up, looking up at him as your hands rested upon his thighs.

"S'good" You smiled, your hand sliding up over his bulge as you kneaded your hand into it as your eyes never left his. Your eyes trained on his, glistening with that needy look.

Art flinched for a second, his eyes rolling for a brief moment as he took in a sharp gasp.

You both froze at the rustling of the crisp sheets beside you, both looking to Patrick, who had turned over, face now facing the two of you but still peacefully at rest.

"Don't worry about him" Art chuckled, dipping down and capturing your lips.

"Mhm- I'm not worried but what if he wakes up.." You pulled away briefly, his hand on the back of his neck as you peppered pecks onto his lips.

"Then he can watch me fuck you" He smirked, gripping at your thighs as he pressed a long kiss against your lips. He quickly kicked off his boxers, smirking as his hand worked on his length, pumping it a few times as you layed down getting comfortable against the bed.

"I know your fucking flexible Y/N, so let's play around with that" He chuckled, taking your legs and spreading them. You smirked at him, allowing him to pratically fold you out into the splits. His eyes glistening as he could put you into whatever position he desired.

"Fuck me.. you're making me harder" He laughed, his finger running up your folds, an instinctive jerk of your body as he lips cocked up into a smirk as he pushed himself into you, the pair of you sighing in unison.

Art's hand gripped both of your calfs either side of you, holding them down as he caged himself above you, as he began to slowly thrust gaining a rhythm into you.

Your hands flew to his bare chest, sighing as you bit your lip, your finger dipping between the crevasses of his chest as he rutted into you. You body bucking against the thrusts as you suppressed your vocals as you hummed.

Art leaned down, his lips capturing yours once again as he kissed you. Needing, you kissed him back, his grip on your calfs loosening as he moved his hands to either side your head on the pillow. Your legs instantly caging around his body, your arm around his neck and a hand on his face as the pair of you kissed. Your legs pulling him closer... further into you, as his hips needily snapped into yours. The sensation, the feelings of his body needily snapping against yours for any sense of friction from you - drove you insane.

Tangled up in one another, the pair of you continued to whine and moan as Art continued to thrust at a comfortable pace into you. It was good, it was nice. But you wanted more. Craved more.

Gripping his shoulder, you whined as you slowly maneuvered yourself to straddle yourself ontop of the man. Sliding him under you as you caged your plump thighs either side of his hips as you were still sunked down on his length.

"What are you doing?" Art sighed, his hands instantly gripping your waist as his head dove into your neck, nipping at the skin.

"Mhm- wanted to... ride you" You sighed, your hips rolling against his as your breath hitched. Your hands gripped to his shoulder as your back arched, your chest leant to Art's face.

His gaze on you never left, as his mouth slacked open as he fitted it over your breast. Sucking so feverishly on the skin as you let out a soft whine. His tongue lapping over your nipple as your breast occasionally popped from his lips.

As you grinded down against him, gripping his shoulders tightly still as a string of soft moans left your mouth - Art's mouth would toy between sucking and licking at your breast, constantly trained on the supple skin as hos ehes were always fixated on you.

"God you are so fucking beautiful" He sighed, pushing his face into your breasts, your hands wrapping around his neck as bounced up and down on his cock. Maneuvering yourself to slip up and down his length, your whole body bouncing with each movement.

You eyes, occasionally snapping to Patrick's sleeping figure beside you - going through scenarios in your head of what would happen if he woke up and saw his friend balls deep in you.

You heard a snap, your head snapped back to Art's as he smiled, taking his hands as he cupped your face inbetween them.

"Don't look at him. Why you looking at him? Look at me" He spoke, his hips harshly snapping up into you with each short phrase. You gasped, gripping his shoulder as your body recoiled against the thrusts.

Art noticed the quick obedience, smirking at this, his once folded legs were now unfolded, spread apart below you as he comfortably sat, gripping your hips as he began to snap his hips up into yours. Your body bouncing down against each thrust, his eyes trained on the way your breasts would bounce harshly with each snap of the hip.

You gasped, a loud moan leaving your throat as your hands pressed down harshly against Art's chest. His thrusts deep and curving up into you were sending you spiraling. You were close, you felt yourself getting hotter and htoter as the body below you, watched you attentively- small grunts and whines leaving his lips as he carefully listened to the sound of your skin slapping back down against his with each thrust.

"Art- I'm close-" You grit your teeth, your hands pressed onto his chest as you gasped.

"Good.. because so am i-" His hands gripping your waist before pushing himself up with his core, your body flying back to lay against the bed as he positioned himself above you. With no warning, thrusting aggressively into you, your legs flailing about as you let out a load moan, his hand flying over your mouth, as he held your hip up with the other. Your back arched against the mattress as Art, leaned above you, letting out soft whines, his face scrunching as he continued to piston into you.

"Fuck- fuck- Yes there!-" You moaned from behind his hand.

Art let go of your mouth, gripping your waist as his pace sped up completely, his head thrown back as he tried to control his whiney moans to be as quiet as possible as his thrusts began to grow sloppier.

"Oh yes- fuck me- right there!-" You yelped, clawing your hands forward to his chest as his hips snapped into yours once more as you both let out a rather loud moan in unison. Your body, twitching against his, as his cock twitched inside of you. You both pratically holding your breath as you both climaxed.

Sighing as his grip on you loosens, as you relax into the mattress below. Art's hands planted either side of you, as he slowly drew himself out to push himself back in slowly, looking down watching as both your juices collected at the bottom of his shaft as he grunted, dragging out the pair of your's high.

No words were exchange in that moment, just the sound of pants and slightly wetted skin, before Art pulled out, leaning back on his thighs as he peered down at you.

The pair of you, smiling, before you sat up, wrapping your arms around his and pecked his lips softly. You just stayed there briefly- in one another's arms. You don't know how long for, you were just comftable.

Eventually, you got up. Grabbing Art's phone as you put your number in. His hand gripping your wrist as his needy gaze locked onto yours.

"When will I see you again-" He whispered.

"When you want to" You smiled, handing him back his phone with your contact open on the screen. His phone, lighting up his face as a small smile appeared on his lips.

His grip loosened as you grabbed his shirt, throwing it over your naked body as you gathered your clothes before exiting the room.

You didn't know if you'd see Art again, despite giving him your number - it was about to be a long while till you heard from him again.

When the time was right, your paths would align again. Hopefully.

~~~

Thank you for reading this piece, I hope you enjoyed it. Please do heart this post if you enjoyed it and comment/send an ask if you have any suggestions for anything else.

If you'd like to buy me a coffee you can do so here

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait | part three

the end, y'all. thanks for waiting a year and some change for this. there are scenes in here that've been planned since april of 2023.

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead  series masterlist chapter summary: after two and a half successful dates, eddie's feeling pretty sure about your connection. but skeletons from his past rear their heads from the deep end, and some of your old wounds need some healing. fluff/angst/comfort. also, beach episode. cw: 18+ pls. smut (p in v, oral both receiving, blah blah blah). not full body mention but some insecurity for reader. reader does wear eddie's clothes but they're sleep clothes. miscommunication. some mild drinking and smoking.

Eddie stands tall on the diving block above the pool, looking down at his legs covered in hair, seeing the end of one of his tattoos peek out from the bottom of his trunks. He wiggles his toes, running a hand through his long hair. No longer eight, but thirty-two, standing on the diving block while the tinny metallic sounds of the YMCA pool echo around him. The chlorine and subtle must of the room wafts through him, over him, the sounds of the water moving while his swim lesson classmates slowly kick their legs back and forth plays in his ears.  But it’s not his classmates from the 90s. It’s his friends now; Gareth, Jeff, Steve, Robin, Alycia, Tati, Nance, Dustin, Lucas – the rest. They’re all watching him get ready to dive. Some look impatient, some look annoyed, some look curious at what he’ll do next.

“You can do it, kid!” Eddie hears Wayne’s gruff voice call from the seating overhead, “You can do it!”  He turns to see Wayne in his old Carhart jacket, at least ten years older than Eddie is and with not one thread out of place. Ed smiles and waves at him, a shot of confidence pumping through his chest at the sight of his uncle’s worn and weathered smile.  But there you are behind him and his confidence wavers. You smile shyly from your seat on the bench, waving small from your chest. Eddie blushes pink when he sees you sitting there, he doesn’t wanna belly flop if you’re watching.  “H-hi,” he calls out, waving back with an awkward toss of his arm. Your mouth says ‘Hi.’ back but he can’t hear you; the echoes of the pool becoming too loud for whatever you’re starting to say to him.

“What?” he calls out again, cupping his ear. His best friend classmates kick their legs faster, a rush of splashes drowning you out.  “You can do it!” he finally hears you encourage alongside Wayne, “Show me you can do it!” 

At the sound of the whistle he turns his attention back to the water, seeing Miss Tiffany’s bright red swimsuit straps on her shoulders. But Miss Tiffany’s head has been replaced; Chrissy stares back at him treading water with the whistle between her teeth.  “Ready, Freddie?” she asks, hand on the whistle again. Ice runs through him now, nerves, watching while Chrissy watches him. Suddenly he isn’t sure what the position to dive is, where to put his hands, how deep he should bend his knees. It’s been so long since he’s done this, since he’s had to prove himself like this in front of so many people – and now you’re watching too. 

“Uh-um…” he stutters, shuffling awkwardly, “Y-yeah one second.”  “C’mon Ed,” Chrissy says from the water, “You’re gonna get cold up there. Aren’t your feet cold?”  “What?” he asks from the block, another chill running through him. “Are you really not gonna dive, dude?” Steve asks from the edge of the pool, “I’ll dive again if you’re not gonna dive.”  “C’mon dude, just do it!” Gareth smiles, “She’s watching!”  “Uh…” he swallows hard, eyes darting from the water to the stands back to his feet on the white plastic of the block. 

“Ed,” Chrissy sighs, “Seriously? Don’t be boring. People are watching.”  “I’m not boring,” he bites back, “We weren’t boring.”  “Do you think you can really do it? You couldn’t do it for me,” Chrissy blows the whistle again, “Ed just dive. God, just grow up.”  Grow up… Eddie wakes up with a thumping heart; his throat tight with anxiety while he slowly turns onto his stomach. His room is still dark, the apartment a wash with silence with no light coming through the shades on his windows. Still night, still more time to dream.  And you were there, you were watching. Watching him waste time on the block instead of showing you what he can do. Watching him fumble over himself in front of Chrissy who can only feel more annoyed. How much longer were you open to waiting for him to jump? Was it already getting boring? Is the fun part over? He swallows hard in real life, letting a breath out through his nose while he tries to calm himself back to sleep. Eddie reaches for his phone with a flailing search under the covers and pillows; finding it wrapped in his sheets by his hips. His brown eyes squint into the light when he clicks the screen awake; four in the morning. Your name shines back at him in his text notifications, you messaged him two hours ago – he hates that you have so much trouble getting to sleep some nights. 

hey, i know you’re sleeping but i just wanted to let you know ahead of time that there’s a wrench in our sexy plans this weekend. i just got my period so i don’t think i can be very sexy. :( i’m sorry.

He doesn’t mean to, but he lets out a disappointed sigh that he’s glad you’re not around to hear. Getting older doesn’t mean the teenage boy in him that just wants to fuck isn’t disappointed to hear that there wasn’t going to be any fucking. 

This weekend was supposed to be different – you finally had a weekend where you weren’t on call for your boss. Eddie planned to spend every single moment of it in between your sheets so he could show you what he’d been thinking about since that first steamy phone call you had when you went to Arizona. And he knew you were thinking about it, too -- if your texts from last night had anything to say about it. Sending him Saweetie’s Back Seat on Spotify and Aaliyah’s Rock the Boat to give him an idea of where your head’s been since his own was between your legs. 

But he could only imagine it for now, both of your schedules not lining up again – either being too tired or not having time to settle in at each other’s places. Hiding away for a quick drink or two at the bar, kissing softly in the back where no one could see. Acting like two oversized kids who were trying to hide from their parents. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t spending his nights since Steve’s birthday playing the sound of your moans in his head over and over. Trying to remember the way your thighs quaked around his head, the way you gripped his hair, the way you tasted on his tongue. He can wait, he can totally wait.

Eddie wakes in the morning to the cool glow of a rainy day shining through his windows; feeling a giddy excitement reserved for 8th grade crushes on Valentine’s Day. Despite knowing that the weekend won’t be tossed in the throws of passion, he still spends at least forty five minutes in the bathroom, scooping body scrub out of Tati’s old tub of it when she got bored with the scent. In this life where Eddie always got someone's leftovers and hand-me-downs, these are by far his favorite ones.  His body is a new level of soft and smooth when he comes out, the closest shave of his face he’s ever gotten. As he spritzes his cologne, Tom Ford Ombre Leather, a gift from Steve, he looks himself over in the mirror before getting dressed. Two silver chains, small rings, a chain bracelet, skin nearly shimmering – tight black boxer briefs hugging his hips and upper thighs. He looks good. Hair waving perfectly, lips full and hydrated, lashes long and dark – he’d have a crush on him, too. 

Eddie stretches a bit, tugging on a pair of black chinos, still jingling with a layered wallet chain he forgot to remove before he washed them. He tucks the remainder into his back pocket when he hears his phone let off a ‘ding!’ on top of his dresser. He ignores it for a second, rifling through his closet for his favorite cut off tee that fits him just right. In his search he comes by a half empty box of condoms, boyishly sneaking two into his wallet with a snicker -- just in case. Eddie grunts when the phone dings again, walking over to see your name up on the screen. 

hey… His heart sinks, dream coming to reality – you’re gonna change your mind and say you don’t wanna see him anymore. You’re gonna tell him this was a mistake. You’re gonna tell him you don’t actually like him like that. You’re gonna tell him you have a crush on Steve. You’re gonna break his heart ten times over.

He lets out a breath or two to steady himself, fingers shaking while he texts you back.

what’s going on? you gotta work or something?

He watches while the bubble pops up of you typing back – disappearing and reappearing like you don’t know what to say. no, it’s not that. He sighs again, sweat forming on the back of his neck, heart thumping in his stomach. He never should’ve fucking dove, he never should’ve fucking kissed you outside the bar. He never should’ve bought you that fucking throw for your livingroom. what’s wrong? 

He watches the bubble start up again, dot-dot-dot, disappearing and reappearing. you didn’t respond to what i sent last night. i get it if you don’t wanna come over anymore.  He laughs, nervous release, running a hand over his face – he’s so fucking stupid. The release settles into guilt in his chest, you must be feeling as nervous as he is. He thinks about you waking up and seeing that he hadn't replied. Eddie chews on his lower lip while he types back.

oh no, no! i’m sorry. i saw your texts when i woke up in the middle of the night and forgot to respond. i’m not mad, you don’t have to be sorry. i still wanna come over.

is it okay if we don’t have sex? i just sort of feel like ass and like, tmi but it’s really heavy the first couple days why am i telling you this? wtf sorry

please stop being sorry, it’s okay if you want to just be by yourself that’s fine but i really would love to still come over, is that alright? i’d love to take care of you 

ew, you don’t need to take care of me

The speed that you send that makes him roll his eyes. He wonders if you know how clear it makes it that you want him so bad, how you're hoping he comes over and babies you the way you want him to.

i want to

🙄 gross, fine see you soon i guess key is behind the mailbox on the wall

He wastes no time getting in the Honda after he finishes getting dressed but a stir in his chest keeps him sitting in the driver’s seat while the car runs. As he holds the key to the ignition, Eddie takes pause. He swallows, a whisper of fear sitting in his heart – should he even like you this much? He knows you both said it, that you really like each other. But is this too much too fast? Is this too many cards on the table? He thinks to the dates before he met you where things fizzled out early. Maybe he should pull back a little, he doesn’t want you to get bored. He doesn’t want to be boring the way things started to feel boring with his ex-wife. He huffs, remembering his dream, Chrissy’s face in the water. Chrissy’s face while he helped her pack before she left. Chrissy’s face when she told him maybe they should start trying and he said maybe it was still too soon. Chrissy’s face when she told him she’d think it’d be better if they got a divorce.

He pulls in his cheeks, heart sinking while he thinks ahead to a fake memory he’s already convincing himself will happen. Imagining the day you pull away when he tries to hold you, the day he sees you in the morning and his heart doesn’t flutter. The day you tell him -- no matter how encouraging you'd been in the car, how interested you seemed in his life, how much you liked that he was so passionate about his friendships -- that he needed to grow up, too. What if he never grows up? What if he never dives again? 

He lets out a breath that still slightly steams in front of him in the cold air of early spring, giving his face a once over in the rearview before the car whirs to life. Megadeth’s We’ll Be Back jolts him back to the present moment, knowing that at least this weekend you really fucking like him and he really fucking likes you. 

“Hey Thumbelina,” he teases from the door frame of your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his overnight bag dangling off his shoulder. Your apartment is small and cozy, the radiator in the corner hissing quietly while your light curtains flutter in the breeze of your slightly open window.

“Hm?” you ask, looking up. Your sleepy face sends his heart hurtling, even more so when you make the connection of whose there – a smile breaking across your face. It makes his cheeks blush a boyish pink while he resists the urge to climb on top of you and smother your face in kisses. When you look at him and he looks at you, the fear he felt in the car feels like a false flag. The dream a reminder of hard feelings long past. When you're in front of him like this, nothing has ever felt more right in his whole life. He could get used to this.

“You’re laying down in the middle of a leaf,” he says, forehead tilting toward the monstera leaf print of your duvet while walking forward to sit at the end of our bed. He reaches out to grab your fuzzy sock covered foot and gives it a squeeze, “Like Thumbelina.” 

You roll your eyes and laugh, turning to your other side and looking at him. Your perfume or body spray wafts through the room, mixed with the scent of dryer sheets from your freshly washed bedding. It’s clear from the state of things that you spent most of your night last night making sure the place looked like it was never ever messy. 

“You look handsome,” you say softly, his blush reddens, “I feel ugly.” 

“You don’t look ugly. If you want, I can downgrade the ‘fit,” he offers, looking you over and smirking at your oversized men’s sweatpants and home-made cropped sleep shirt, “Want me to change? We can be twins.” You nod and laugh the way he likes, "Twins? You got a crop top in that bag?"

"Nah, I'm fresh out," he scrunches his nose, "It's at the cleaners."

"Lame," you shrug, "Well, m'sorry you gotta see me like this. I look like a troll."

“Trolls actually have a pretty high natural armour class so -- it's not the worst thing you can be,” he explains while opening his bag to grab his sleep clothes. "Oh, wow," you start, with a pitying voice, "You're like, really a nerd huh?" "They also can regenerate which like, for a monster of their type is pretty cool. Pretty great perception too -- which like, would make sense y'know considering their surroundings? Good for survival sk...I should stop," he turns pink when he sees your smile, lower lip tucking into your teeth to hold off a giggle. "I'm really cool," he says, "I swear." "I know," you nod with an assured look, laughing, "Go change."

He leans forward, running a hand over your back while he surveys your side tables. Eddie didn’t think the movies always had it right about the 'time of the month', but the litter of candy wrappers, snacks, Advil, and three different drinks made him stand corrected. He presses a kiss by your ear, murmuring a quiet reminder that he’ll be right back.

When he does, you’re back on your side, scrolling through videos on your phone, snuggled under the green throw blanket he bought you when you went on your Target date a few weeks ago. He apprehensively sits on the edge of the bed, watching you, teeth gleaming in a smile when you beckon him over with your hand. He molds to you expertly, knees curling in to tuck behind your own, arm snaking around your waist to pull your back to his chest.

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You nod, sinking into him while your body relaxes. He swallows when your body pushes back a little, your hips wiggling in a way that brushes against him just the right way – and he’s not wearing pants that can hide what that might do to him anymore. When you settle, he does too, taking you in. Your body heat, the way you feel against him, how you smell. You smell so fucking good. How do you manage to smell so fucking good all the time? He could eat you and never feel full. “What’re we watching?” he asks, chin resting on top of your head. 

“The scoopability of this week’s slimes,” you laugh. He reaches over to push your hair slightly out of the way of his view. Your neck stretches when his fingertips graze it accidentally, a wave of goosebumps appearing on your arm in front of him. Your neck, huh? He thinks to himself, a subtle smirk flicking onto his lips. He knew from last time you had a spot, but learning the intricacies of you was even more exciting. Where did you really like to be touched? How did you like to be held? There was still so much more to learn, there was no chance he could ever get bored.

“What does that even mean?”

“They make slimes, they scoop them, they rate the scoop,” you shrug, “It doesn’t get any more complicated than that.”

“Uh, okay…cool,” he nods, it’s clear he has no idea what you’re talking about. He watches while the soothing music plays, an ice cream scoop goes through multiple multi-colored and different textured ‘slimes’ with a rating ‘1/10’ flashing on the top of the screen. Some are smooth, some crunchy, some full of weird little add ons that he doesn’t understand. You play one video after another on your phone, thumbing through them on Tiktok like this is a regular pastime for you.

“This is actually kind of nice,” he says after the third clip, “Soothing.”

“Right?” you reply, “I think this account is my favorite, but, I’m never really paying attention to whose videos they are – just that they’re pretty.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, hand slowly caressing the dip of your waist, “But also like, wouldn’t all those little glitters and stuff get stuck in your teeth?”

You pause, putting your phone down and turning your head to him slowly. He lets his hand slide further over your diaphragm while you turn to face him, your face contorted in confusion – you almost look concerned.

“I’m sorry…” you start with a furrowed brow, “Did you think they were edible?” 

“Are -- wait -- are they not?” he asks, genuinely bewildered. “It’s slime…” “Okay, well half of them have food names,” he shrugs, embarrassment building on his cheeks as he tries to explain, “Like, ‘mango peach slushie’, how am I supposed to think it’s not..that?”

“It’s not food,” you laugh, “Oh god, you’re so lucky you’re hot.” He gives you a little shove, laughing with you while you turn your whole body towards him under the blanket. Chest to chest. He breathes you in delicately, eyes coasting over your face in soft and sweet admiration.

“It’s sort of like silly putty.” “Oh, like, to play with,” he nods in understanding, noses nearly brushing when he peers into your eyes, "I'm really 0 for 2 today." “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s an easy mistake," your voice a calming rasp, pushing some hair out of his face,

Your fingers feel so soft against him that he shuts his eyes, trying as much as he can to savor the feeling of being so close to you. Finally a moment where he can hold you as close as he wants, kiss you as deep as he needs to, and there’s no bartender or bystander around to make either of you feel weird about it.

“I like that I’m here with you,” he says contentedly, “This is really nice.” 

“I like that you’re here with me, too,” you grin. His hand comes up from its place on your waist to slide to the back of your neck, thumb running back and forth slowly over the edge of your jaw. Eddie falters a bit when you relax into his touch, moving in closer to him. One of your legs hikes up, your plush thigh resting over his hip – he holds back a groan as you wrap yourself around him.

“Comfy?” he asks. His voice is gruff with the stretch of wrapping himself around you in return, nose tip to tip with yours.

You nod, hiding your face in his neck while he lays a short row of kisses by your ear where he can reach, “Good.”

You lay together like that for a couple of minutes in the cool dark of your room, semi-sheer curtains drawn on this cloudy day so you don’t feel so bad about not going outside.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks into the quiet, “Please?”

“You can kiss me,” you nod with a giggle, “Always." Always.

As he leans in, lips ghosting against yours as a precursor for a deep needy kiss, Eddie’s phone buzzes and he turns to your snack-ridden side table to check it. An unknown number glows back at him up at the top of the screen, “Ah, shit...”

“What’s up?” you ask, pushing up on your arms to stretch out your back and sternum. He smiles at you while he gets up from off your bed.

“I ordered Indian food. You said you’re a saag paneer girl, right?” he asks with a tilt of his head before heading out of your room to the front door. 

You lay there with full bellies, clicking through to soulDecision’s Faded music video on your journey of ‘Weirdo Hits from the 90s/2000s’. Back in your snuggling positions, he can tell you feel safe with him, your eyelids heavy while your head lays on his chest. “I can’t believe I knew every word to this song,” you mumble, “I was like seven.” 

“Liquid Dreams is worse,” he barters, fingers running over the side of your head, just above your ear.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, “I forgot about Liquid Dreams. That’s next.” 

You get through LFO and O-Town’s top hits, settling on Samantha Mumba’s ‘Gotta Tell You Tonight’ which bleeds into Mandy Moore’s ‘Candy’.

“Oh wow,” Eddie huffs a laugh, “Chris did this with her best friends for the talent show when we were super little. I think that’s when I started having a crush on her.” 

He feels your head tilt up to look at him and he looks down, “Who’s Chris?” 

“Oh,” he says, his chest deflates, “My um, that’s my ex-wife. Chrissy.” 

“Oh yeah, you said,” you nod, leaning up on your elbows. You flop to your stomach and stare up at him, the pad of his finger coming up to lazily tap you on the nose.

“I know you said things were like, okay – but do you guys still talk at all?” you ask, head dipping with an devilish smirk, “Or do we hate her? What’s the gossip?” 

Eddie lets out a hiss of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair from the temples upward, shaking his head, “Oh no, I don’t think I could ever hate her.”

“It’s not like she did anything wrong,” he explains, brows knitting together while he thinks about how to explain it, “We just wanted really different things. She really wanted to settle down and like, y’know, nest. She wanted to be a mom so bad and I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready for a lot of things she wanted. In a way, we just sort of outgrew each other – but y’know, sometimes that happens.” 

“It’s funny,” he says with a slight smile, licking his lips, “I was so nervous about being on the apps thinking I was gonna see her profile – forgot she’s fully engaged. Like, I’ve met the guy.”

“Engaged?” you ask with your brows raised, “Scandalous. When did you guys divorce?”

“Pfff, hmm,” he thinks, puffing a breath of air from his cheeks, “We broke up and separated in September of 2020, divorce was filed – hmm, I think officially in January 2021? It was such a blur I can barely remember, we count our divorce as September at least.” 

“And when did she get engaged? Or meet this guy? Is he cool? Or is he like – lame?” you ask, rapid fire.

“Is this a soap opera to you?” he laughs. 

“It’s your lore,” you say, flipping onto your back, “And let’s be real, your lore is kind of soap opera-y.”

“What about your tragic lore, hm?” he presses, “When am I gonna get some of that?”

“We’ll get there one day,” you say with a tilt of your head, lips tucking in breifly. You welcome his arms when they circle around you, his weight shifting as he mimics your cuddling from before. His thigh slings over your hips, wrapping around you like a koala while his lips press against your cheek. 

“It’s gonna be hot next weekend,” he says, nose nuzzling at your temple, “Steve wants to get the crew together to go to the beach. Do you wanna come?” 

Your eyes flutter closed but you nod just the same. “Good,” he smirks, voice dropping to something a little husky, “You can wear that little red suit for me.” 

“Ew,” you let out before you can stop it, your giggles shaking you in his arms, “Perv.” “Yeah?” he smirks, leaning in to kiss just under your ear, “Even though you sent me all those pictures?”

Your eyes shut when he kisses you there, a tiny gasp leaving your lips when he does it a second time. His tongue flicks out, tip of it drawing a thin line from the top of your neck to the hinge of your jaw.

“Ed, I don’t wanna have sex,” you pout.

“I know,” he smiles into your cheek, “I just like teasin’ you.” 

“Well don’t,” you pout, gently shoving his face away from your cheek in faux frustration,  “So unfair.”

You ease up onto your side, leaning over back to your laptop to scroll through the recommended music videos until you land on Savage Garden’s Crash and Burn. “Oh, fuck me,” he laughs, “I don’t think I’ve heard this song since 1999.” “The music video used to freak me out when I was little,” you settle back into him when it starts and he welcomes the weight of you against him. “Yeah it’s kind of freaky for a kid,” he nods, arm wrapping around you while darkness begins to find home in your bedroom, “I mean look how fucking blue this guys eyes are – terrifying.” The sound of your laugh bubbles like the girls at Forest Hills used to sound in the summer. The room starts to darken as the sun goes down, leaving you both in a glow of your laptop screen. “You know, we could watch these in the living room on the TV,” you laugh, sitting up. Eddie pouts when you shift out of his hold, pulling you back down into him. “Yeah, but I like this,” he mumbles, “I wanna hold you like this.”  “Okay,” you snort, flipping back to your side to face him, “But you never told me about the guy she ended up with. Is he cool? Is he weird? Does he suck? When did she meet him?”

“You’re so annoying,” he teases with a shake of his head.

“So cute though, unfortunately,” you shrug, “So you have to tell me.” 

“It’s true, you’re so cute,” he nods, leaning in to offer you a soft kiss on your lips and forehead, “I guess I’ll tell you.”  

“She met Derek I think – errr – six months after we separated? One of those, ‘when you know, you know’ type of things – she even called to ask if it was okay if she went on a date with him.” “That’s kind of fucked up, rubbing salt in the wound,” you shrug. 

“No,” he shakes his head again, sitting up with his back against the wall, “You don’t know her, so like – it sounds fucked up, but she just wanted to be courteous about it. Didn’t want me finding out through the grapevine or whatever. Anyway, they got engaged last May.” “Is he a tool?” you ask again, face scrunching like you might already know.

“No, he’s – he’s very much her kind of guy now that I think about it,” he laughs, “They live in Denver now I think, used to be Chicago, super outdoorsy. He cycles professionally, I think – works in tech. She’s running a yoga studio out there while she gets her masters.” “In what?” 

“Art therapy,” he recounts softly, a gentleness in his tone, “She’s a really gifted painter, it helped her through a lot of shit. Got her undergrad in psych so – she’s always wanted to get her license. She’s just really meant to make people feel good about themselves and help them, I’m happy for her.”

“Okay, so she’s Mother Theresa,” you joke, “Can’t relate.” 

“Mother Theresa if you put some strawberry blonde hair on her and made her a cheerleader,” he laughs, pulling out his phone. He pulls up a few photos, one from prom, a few from after shows, one from early Covid, “This is her.” 

“Oh, wow…” you say wistfully, the glow of the screen lighting up your face. Chrissy’s face and body reflecting back in your eyes like a mirror, “She’s gorgeous.” 

“Yeah, can’t believe she was obsessed with a dork like me,” he teases himself, putting his phone back in his pocket, “I couldn’t believe I pulled someone like that – still can’t.” 

“Hm,” you nod. The room creeps darker with the laptop screen blanking out to sleep. If Eddie was really listening, he would’ve heard the tinge of something aching in your response.

“Do you um,” you start meekly, hesitating for a moment, “...do you still love her?” 

Eddie’s quiet, leaning to his side to turn one of your side table lamps on. 

“I’ll always love her,” he nods with a shrug, running his hands through his hair to make a makeshift ponytail before letting it go again, “She’ll always love me. But like, not in the way that we did when we were younger. We’ll just always have love for each other, I think.” 

“Yeah, cool,” you mumble, taking out your phone, “That’s a cool way to look at it.” 

“Thanks,” Eddie grins, reaching out to put a hand on your head. You move out of his touch, leaning forward to wake your laptop back up to let the next music video auto-play. Fat Joe’s What’s Luv ft. Ashanti  popping onto the screen. You both watch for a bit, still half on your phone and half keeping your eye on the screen. Eddie sees you open and close your texts, your thumbs typing rapidly before quickly closing the app again. 

“It’s so weird how many people were so vocal about how much they don’t go down on women,” you huff at the screen, “Like, that’s not something to brag about guys.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, “What is it you said before? Oh yeah – can’t relate.” 

You still don’t turn back to face him, but he sees you nod and let out a breath, “That’s true.”  

He slides himself back down on the bed, getting close to you in the way he was before, molding  to your body with an arm around your waist. The soft lingering scent of your perfume still on your skin when he presses his face into the crook of your neck – but it’s not there for long. The bed shifts as you get up, stretching again, enough for your shirt to right up to see the underside of your breasts. A blush kicks up in his cheeks. 

“Dinner and a show?” he quirks, “Don’t spoil me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you squeak out at the end of a yawn, covering your chest, “I’ll be right back.” 

Eddie’s lips tug into a small frown when you make your way out of the room, surprised that you didn’t have a joke to throw back at him. He likes how easy it is to back and forth with you, he doesn’t think he knows anyone who’s as quick as him – not the way you are. He likes that you keep him on his toes like that. 

He checks his phone again in your absence, shooting his group chat with Tatianna and Gare with a regular check in. They left early this morning for a two week long trip to Aruba and he’s kept his phone on the loudest setting possible so he can be ready when he gets ‘the call’. They’ll come back as fiancés, but the only person who doesn’t know that is Tatianna. 

When you come back there’s a grimace on your face, “Um…look, I’m sorry but –” 

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s heart sinks. 

“No, eh, yeah but, I um – I just really don’t feel good,” you confess. 

“Can I get you something? You want some tea? Or I can run out and get ginger ale or –”

“No Ed, no I um…” you let out another long breath, “I think you should go.” 

“G-go?” he asks, sitting up straight on the bed, “Like, go home?” 

He watches you look him over, your shoulders sulking, “Yeah Eddie, you should go home.” 

“Oh…” he thinks for a minute before standing up, “Is it…did I do something?” 

“No, I just really don’t feel well,” you repeat, “I just want to go to bed.” 

“Okay, well, I can…I can go to bed, too,” he tries to bargain, “I can sleep on the couch if you – if you want the bed to yourself. I get it.” 

“Just go home,” you say with finality, not mean, not a yell – you just mean it, “Please.” 

“Um, alright,” his voice is drenched in confusion, brows furrowing while he packs up his overnight bag in the corner, “Y’know if I – If I fucked up you can just say something.” 

“You didn’t fuck up I just,” you deflate, crossing your arms protectively against your chest, “I wanna be alone.” 

“I understand,” he murmurs, heart thumping in his chest, sending disappointment coursing through him. He slings the bag over his shoulder, not even bothering to put on his jacket or change. Cautiously, he approaches you, looking into your eyes trying to find the answer as to why you're telling him to leave.

"Uh, I'll uh, I'll see you soon?" he asks hopefully.

"Yeah, maybe," you nod, avoiding his stare. He can hear the beginning of a cry starting in your throat.

"Can I kiss you goodbye?"

"Uh, yeah, fine."

Eddie leans in, cupping your cheek to kiss you but you barely kiss him back. Lips like rubber even as he pulls away.

It feels like he belly flopped. His eyes start to sting when you walk past him, crawling into your bed and pulling your computer onto your lap.

"Get home safe," you mumble out. "Thanks," he whispers, giving you a half hearted wave before heading out the door.

I don’t want to Miss Tiffany...Swimming sucks.

Eddie gets in the Honda and sits there for a moment in the dark, feeling his jaw tighten and his nose tingle. He rolls his shoulders, sniffling, trying to calm down but the feelings over take him, both hands coming down hard on his steering wheel.

"FUCK!" he shouts, smacking it again with a pained growl, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He feels sick knowing that you slipped through his fingers just as quickly as you fell into them. He should've seen this coming, he should've taken the dream from last night as prophecy. What's the point of making it to level 3 if you'll never make it to level 4? What's the point of diving if you're not watching? If he's gonna belly flop anyway? Eddie's breath comes in shudders, tears spilling over his dark lashes onto his cheeks. You're only about 30 feet away still, he can always just go back to your door. He can fix it like he did on your first date, he can just get out, he can do something.

Grow up...

The unease from his dream blooms black in his chest, Eddie looks at your bedroom window and watches the light snuff out through the curtains. His chest deflates, shoulders rounding while he turns the key in the ingition, car revving on, seatbelt light blinking while the 'ding, ding, ding,' to put in on rings in his ear.

With a final thick swallow, he sucks in his cheeks and bites down to stop himself from crying. Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair, wipes his eyes, looks himself over in the rearview. He wouldn't have a crush on this version of himself, he can't imagine you would either.

With a sigh, he tugs on the seatbelt, puts the car in drive, and pulls down the street. Feeling further away from you than when you were across the country -- different planets, a totally different universe.

In the late afternoon the next day Eddie checks his phone for the twelfth time in an hour. You still haven't texted or called, not even responding when he told you he got home okay. All you did was send a 'thumbs up'. With a quiet sigh through his nose he shoves his phone into his back pocket, pushing open the squeaking wooden doors to Calamity's -- a dive bar that Robin's been working at every Saturday for the last five years. Her sandy hair is tucked behind her ears while she pumps the shaker next to her head, chatting with Nancy who sits across from her on the bar.

At the squeak of the door they both turn to look at him, Robin's brows quirk, "What're you doing here, loverboy?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mumbles.

"You wanna drink about it first?" she offers.

He nods, climbing onto the stool next to Nancy and leaning on his elbows on the sticky counter top, "Hey Nance."

"Hey Ed," she says, hand reaching out to rub his forearm, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, "I'll be fine, I just -- yeah, I'm fine."

His phone buzzes, immediately reaching for his back pocket only to see an Apple News notification and no sign of you. He checks your socials for any sign of life, but you haven't even posted anything.

Another sigh and he can't help himself, resolve weakening as stubborn as he'd like to be.

hey, haven't heard from you. you okay?

He puts his phone on airplane mode, going a step further to shove it into the inside zipper pocket of his beat up leather jacket and keeping it locked up. The less accessible the better, he couldn't become the guy that waits by the phone all night aching for you. Not the way he did last night, tossing and turning in bed wishing so badly that you were next to him.

'Should I feel this bad so soon?' Eddie thinks, 'We're not even dating and we're fighting? Is this even a fight? Would this be considered a fight?' He listens to the drone of their conversation, the bar is open but normally no one really shows up until the sun goes down -- at least on the weekend. Robin slides a Jack and Coke in front him, tossing a tiny straw in with flourish.

"Here, sad sack," she teases. "Thanks," he murmurs, toying with the straw, making his silver chain bracelet tinkle against the hardware of his jacket. "Rob, c'mon," Nancy urges, "Don't mess around." "What, I didn't call him a loser," she defends, shrugging, "He's being a sad sack. Right Ed? You're a sad sack?"

"I'm a sad sack," he nods, "Nailed it, babe." "Well, what happened?" she asks again, voice softer this time. She leans herself over the counter, resting her hand on her palm. Eddie matches her posture, lifting the drink with his other hand. "I'll tell you when I finish this," he offers, "Talk to me about literally anything else." "Well I thiiiiink I'm about to land this new creative lead gig," Robin tosses her hair, her violet amber perfume feathering off of it, "Do I love the idea of working for a start up? No. Is it remote and 68 thou a year? Yes."

"Sick," he nods through a mouthful of liquor, "That's awesome."

"Gives me time to still work on my art shit with Tati," she shrugs, sipping from her water bottle, "And we'll probably be able to afford studio space if I get it."

"She'll be thrilled, damn. First an engagement ring and then an art studio that's not her classroom? Everything's coming up Edwards," he smiles for the first time all day. "Wait, did he propose already? Did we miss it?" Nance blanches, clutching her chest. "So far no," he laughs, "I think he's gonna wait until next weekend so they have one full week away as engaged. They're gonna come back and tell me to pack my shit."

"Well, you can always sleep in the loft -- or y'know," Nancy shrugs, "Maybe things're looking really good with your new girl?" Eddie hums, about to open his mouth but the door bursts open hard on its loose hinges and with it, the grittiness of the old subwoofers blasting Lil' Wayne's Lollipop.

“Oh, shit that’s my sooooong,” Steve exclaims while he gets in the door. He walks in like he owns the place, Ray Bans covering his eyes while a strand of his coiffed chestnut hair falls onto his forehead. “Just like a refund, I make her bring that ass back, and she bring that ass back – because I like that,” he drawls along, opening his phone with a smirk while the song gets louder throughout the bar. 

“Shawty wanna thuuuuug, bottles in cluuuuub,” he goes on, walking forward toward Eddie whos chin his still in his palm. Eddie's face scrunches, not in the mood to play along, covering his ears when the bass speakers right above him start to vibrate.

"Turn it down, Steve!" Robin yells, but it's muffled against the beat. "Huh?" he cups his ear like he can't hear her, brows furrowing while he flicks his glasses up to push back his hair. "STEVE!" she shouts back. "What? I can't hear you?" he lies again, turning it up a touch more while he makes his way behind the bar. He snatches Robin's phone by the register before she can get to it to change the volume herself, laughing while he slips it into the pocket of his vest. 'Call me, so I can make it juicy for ya,' he mouths along, body rolling his way closer to her with every word, 'Call-Call me, so I can make it juicy for ya.'

The music cuts abruptly, Nancy now found by the stero with manicured nails lingering on the volume knob.

"I'm changing the fucking Spotify password, dingus," Robin snaps, "You can't do that every time you come here. I'm gonna get fired."

"Don't be such a bitch, Rob," he sours, tucking his sunglasses into the crew neck collar of his shirt, "Nobody's here."

"You're a bitch, Harrington," Robin snaps back. "The biggest bitch I know," Nancy adds, taking her seat back next to Eddie. Steve sits at the end of the bar on the other side of him. "What's the matter, sad sack?" Steve asks, cocking his head toward Eddie, "Mad that it wasn't the Framing Hanley version?"

"Aw, fuck off, dude," Eddie rolls his eyes before running his hand over his face, palm catching on his five o'clock shadow. "He hasn't told us yet," Robin explains, "We're waiting until he finishes his first drink."

Two Jack and Coke’s in, the conversation bumps to the potential art studio, to Nancy’s potential promotion, to Steve’s latest project at work. A few regulars have trickled in, using the TouchTunes to their advantage since Spotify ‘isn’t working tonight’ as per Robin’s punishment for Steve. 

It gives Eddie a good reprieve, he’s glad he went out – beats being home alone and sitting there wondering what happened in the dark. Beats typing it up to send to Tatianna and Gareth and asking what happened and then deleting it because he doesn’t want to bother them on vacation. Beats wondering what you’re doing and why you won’t respond to him. Beats the feeling of laying in bed and wishing he knew what you'd feel like next to him for another night. Beats wondering what he did to deserve potentially losing out on something that felt more right than ever. Beats wondering if maybe you're it and how now he might never know.

“Okay, well, I let you get through two Jack and Coke’s – you gotta spill now, brother,” Robin sighs, leaning back down in front of him on her forearms. 

“Oh yeah, weren’t you supposed to have your wet hot American weekend at her place? What’re you doing here?” Steve inquires, smirk pulling on his lips, “Performance issues?” 

“Steve, come on,” Nancy sighs, “Are you serious?” 

“Nah, nah it’s fine,” Eddie shakes his head, “He’s just coming from experience, right?"

“No um, I really don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, “I went to her house and y’know it’s her time of the month or whatever – so maybe th–” 

“I’m gonna stop that thought before you finish it,” Robin puts a finger up, pink lips pulling into a smile, “Once sec while I pour this guy a beer.” 

Eddie sheepishly takes another sip of his drink, feeling the dull weight of it in the front of his skull – not drunk, but if he’s not careful he won’t be able to drive home. 

“Okay, continue,” Robin says when she gets back. 

 He takes his time walking through the night, retracing his vocal steps, the emotional ones. He talks about the slime videos, getting Indian food, how you didn’t want to have sex. The music videos, the kisses, the way you wrapped yourself around him – how everything seemed fine, perfect even. He was so excited to sleep next to you, to make breakfast in the morning, maybe shower together – maybe fuck in the shower if you were into it. But not…not this, not whatever happened. 

“What did you guys talk about? Like, did she talk about her past or anything? Did she seem off? Did a subject come up that she seemed weird about?” Nancy presses. 

“Yeah, you’re not giving us anything, just like – the highlights. We need the play by play, Munson,” Robin gestures with her hands, now nursing her own beer. 

“I mean, we were watching music videos,” he shrugs, “And Chris came up but like, she knew I was married. She asked about the divorce and whatever, we talked about how she’s with her new guy in Colorado.” 

“And?” 

“And I don’t know?” he shrugs, heart starting to pound a little in his chest, “I mean I showed her a picture of her and like, sort of ragged on myself like – like how I couldn’t believe I pulled someone like Chrissy.”

“Oh dude,” Steve sighs, “Dude, you fuckin’ dumbass.” 

“What? How am I a dumbass?” he asks defensively, hands out, pleading. 

“Cause she’s not Chrissy,” Steve explains, “Like – god, come on. Imagine she showed you a picture of fuckin’ – I don’t know – Jon Bernthal? And was like ‘Yeah, can’t believe I pulled this hot, sexy, manly strong man. I guess you’ll do as a follow up after him.’” 

Eddie blanches, guilt forming a ball in his throat, “But that’s not…That’s not how I meant it. Like, she’s – you’ve seen her. She’s gorgeous. She doesn’t have to look like Chris.” 

“Yeah but, after you talked about her, did she seem all quiet after?” Robin asks, eyes flicking to him and then Steve. 

“Well…well yeah–” 

“See, told you,” Steve shrugs, “I might not have a girlfriend but I still know how ladies work–” 

“Okay, okay, enough from you,” Nancy waves him off, “Did anything else come up?” 

“She asked if I still loved her and I said yeah but like, not romantically. We just will always have love for each other – y’know? I mean, we were like – we were married,” he tries to explain, “Do you think – do you think she thinks I just wanna be with Chrissy?” 

Robin grimaces, sipping her beer. Steve gives him a half hearted cock of the head. 

“I think…” Nancy starts, voice of reason as present as ever, “I think she doesn’t know your history very well and you don’t know hers. It could be that things went left with her ex or she’s been hurt by stuff like this before. She might not have known how to talk about it to you – but I definitely think talking about Chrissy like she was some prize you had and now you’re settling had something to do with it.” 

“But that’s not what I’m doing!” Eddie urges, hand coming down on the bar counter, “I’m not settling! I wanna like – I wanna be with her. I only talked about Chris so much because she asked I – I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. And I asked! I asked if I did something or said something and she said it was fine.” 

“Girls always say it’s fine Eddie, come on, you’ve been divorced. You should know,” Steve says with gravitas, “That’s like, what all women who are actually upset say.” 

“I have an idea,” Robin says with a breath, “First, don’t listen to Steve. That’s obvious. Second, give it another day, send her a message saying something along the lines of ‘Hey, I think I might have said some things that didn’t come out right. I’d love to talk it out with you. When’re you free?’ and see where it goes.” 

“Maybe you guys can hash it out at the beach next weekend? You think she’ll still wanna come?” Nancy asks. 

“Maybe,” Eddie shrugs, moping now, “If she ever wants to see me again.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ed,” Robin rolls her eyes, sandy bangs tickling her lashes, “You just gotta give it a day or two.” 

He only has to give it until later that night, tucked into the couch with a slasher on to ease the ache of his broken heart. On the coffee table, his phone buzzes face down and with a shaky hand he reaches for it, not wanting to be too hopeful. But when your name lights up with a new message he feels his heart leap in his chest. 

i’m okay. thanks for checking in. 

He lets out a slow breath through an O in his lips. Eddie takes a beat, rings tapping against his phone case before he starts typing his response: 

look, idk what’s going through your mind but i really like you. i think i might’ve messed things up here. i’m happy to give you some space if you need but would you wanna talk about this soon? 

He stares at the message for a minute or two, heart pounding. There are so many ways you could respond. You could say no, or cuss him out, or tell him to fuck off. You could say you knew he was shit. You could, at the absolute worst, not even respond. He runs his hand over his face, covering his eyes while he presses send and tossing his phone onto the recliner across the room. Out of sight out of mind. 

If only for a few minutes when he hears the buzz against the leather. 

yeah, we can talk about it. work is kinda busy this week though.

He’d wait for you for months. 

would you still wanna come to the beach? steve said he’s still down to pick you up. 

yeah, i can still come to the beach

A grin sprawls across his lips, cheeks tight. He can still see you, he can still see you in that red suit. He can still talk to you. You still want to see him. It’s not totally ruined yet. 

He hesitates at first, but ultimately sends out the offer. 

tatianna and gare will still be away. if you want, you can stay the weekend at mine? maybe we can have a re-do.  He watches the three dots bubble in and out of the text conversation, watching as you type something and then delete. Type and delete. Type and delete. It’s only when he hears the tinkling of the standing lamp in the corner of the room that he realizes how hard he’s been bouncing his leg while he waits. 

i’ll think about it Well it’s not a no. It’s something. It’s a maybe. It’s a could be.

But if it ends up being a yes, he’ll make it better than what last weekend at yours could’ve been.

The week passed in a slow blur, Monday and Tuesday were a thousand years long – all of his students on his nerves when they caught on that he wasn’t on his phone as much. "Just take the L, Mr. E. You keep looking at your phone. She's obv not gonna text you." "Yeah Munson, you can't have a phone rule for us and then keep looking at yours." "You're giving negative aura points, Mr. E. Just admit you don't actually have any rizz."

He didn't know what any of them meant, but it didn't help the sting. Since Gareth was away there was no band practice on Wednesday, so instead he went to the studio by himself and plugged into the loudest amps he could. Shredding his frustration out through the strings until tears spilled as much as the melodies that leaked from the speakers. Being carried by the frustration that kept building from the way you haven't messaged him or called, from the fear of having to hurt the way he hurt three years ago all over again. From the way this couldn't be it.

By time he finished, his fingertips stung -- raw and red from hours of playing. It still didn't hurt has bad as the lump in his throat. As the dry phone in his pocket.

It’s Thursday afternoon when his phone finally pings and you ask what you should bring for the beach. Time speeds up again. He blinks and it’s Saturday morning, he blinks and he’s sitting behind Steve in his Escalade. He blinks and realizes he wishes he had more time to prepare himself for this, the prepare how to ask you to talk, to prepare for seeing you again after all this. All the rehearsals in his head had fallen away as they drive through your part of town.

“I LIKE A LONG HAIRED THICK REDBONE, OPEN UP HER LEGS, THEN FILET MIGNON THAT PUSSY.” “Oh my god, Steve please don’t say pussy like that.” The car rolls down your street, Robin in the front as always, and Nancy behind Robin. And sure, they could have picked up some of the younger crew but, in Steve’s words – ‘I’ve driven them around enough.’ EveryGirl in the World rumbles achingly loud through the speakers that he just got upgraded, making the leather vibrate under all of them. Lucky for Steve, none of the sound leaks through in your sleepy streets, lazy with the steamy haze of 7:30 in the morning. “I’mma get in an on that pussy, If she let me in, I’mma own that pussy.” “Steve,” Robin groans, “You’re so obnoxious. This is why nobody likes you!” “Everyone likes me – now come ‘ere let me dope you, You should be a dope fiend, your friend’s should call you Dopey. Tell ‘em keep my name out they mouth ‘cause they don’t know me.” “Do you think you sound cool when you rap?” she asks, pulling her sandy hair into a ponytail, “Look in the rearview, do you think you look cool?” Steve’s Ray Bans find the mirror, looking back at Eddie who grins at him while they ease into a stop in front of your place. “My sex game is stupid,” they both start, making Nancy laugh – Robin’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “You’re both so insufferable,” she groans, but a smile pulls at her soft pink lips.

“My head is the dumbest, I promise – I should be Hooked on Phonics, Hah, well anyway, I think you’re bionic.” “Stop!” Robin shouts, laughing now while Steve tips his sunglasses down his nose and Eddie leans over the seat. Both faces eager with faux sincerity while Nancy giggles in solidarity behind her. “And I don’t think you’re beautiful, I think you’re beyond it.” Steve grins, Eddie unbuckling to get out of the car to get you. “And I just wanna get behind it –” “STEVE!” “And watch you back it up and dump it back, back it up and dump it back…” Eddie looks at your house, a nervous thrum in his chest while he gets out. The last time he was here he watched as you turned your bedroom light out after making him leave. You didn’t even respond to his ‘excited to see you, tomorrow’ text last night. You just ‘hearted’ it. He gets to your door ringing the bell and waiting for you, feeling as sheepish and awkward as a kid on a first date. When you open the door he can hear his heart beat in his ears. "Hey," he says quietly, "G'morning." "Morning," you say back. You both smile tightly at each other and then both of your gazes reach the ground. Eddie thinks to lean in and reach for you but retracts, you still feel so far away from him. The familiarity from before -- from Barcade, from showing up at your house last week -- long gone. A stranger he's meeting for the first time. He wonders if the group can even sense it from the car.

“Can I get those for you?” he asks, seeing you hoist your beach bag over your shoulder, a mini cooler in your other hand. “No, it’s fine,” you wave him off as you walk through the door, shutting it behind you. He rolls his eyes, easing the bag off of your shoulder and the cooler out of your hand.

With how things feel, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up and ask if you packed to stay with him for the weekend. But the weight of your bags gives him a soft flutter of ease in his chest that he might get a chance to fix this afterall. "Go ahead and get in the car," he says softly, "Everyone's excited to see you."

He watches you get in while he settles your bags amongst the others in the trunk, everyone says their hellos and he begs for it to not be weird considering they all know what's going on. Nancy takes a cue to move to the bench seat further back so you can sit next to each other, Eddie offering her a grateful nod when he gets back in behind Steve. 

“Alright, so now that we’re all accounted for we’re playing a game,” Steve says, turning the music down, “One by one we’re gonna pick our songs of the summer from when we were kids. We're going summer mode.” 

“That’s cute,” Nancy smiles, “That’s a cute idea you have there, Steve.” 

He shrugs one shoulder, dropping his Raybans down his nose to look at her, “Only cute ideas from the cutest guy here.” 

“Alright, relax,” Eddie grumbles when Steve steps on the gas, arms crossing over his chest. You’re looking at your phone, probably checking to see what song you want to pick, but he wishes you were looking at him. Half of him wants to reach over and rest his hand on your thigh like you’re his, but right now he knows you’re not. He slides his phone out from his pocket, shooting you a text at an attempt to try and salvage the car ride.

hey. you look really pretty.

He watches you while you look at the notification banner pop up on the screen, a soft smile flickers across your face when you open it. Eddie’s phone buzzes in response.

thanks, you too.

And he does look pretty – black shorts and a cut off Hawkins, IN t-shirt from some time in the early 90s. Well worn but still starchy. His tattoos bounce off his skin, a thin little heart outline peeking out from the top of his jeans, wallet chain still shining and silver. He had his hair pulled back messy, bangs and tendrils still flowing in his face – but for the first time you get to really see the curves and slopes of his jaw line, the tension in his neck. He blushes, putting his arm on the back of your seat, close enough where he doesn’t think he’s pushing it. Sunny Came Home flows through the speakers of the car. 

“Pristine choice, Rob,” Eddie nods, “Damn.” 

“Right in the chest, right?” Robin scrunches her nose, “Like sitting in your mom’s back seat on the way home from the grocery store in July or something.” 

Steve’s pick is unsurprising, Nelly’s Ride Wit Me shaking the car while he pulls onto the highway. You skip over yourself, unsure at what to pick, passing the phone to Nancy behind you who settles on Sheryl Crowe’s Everyday Is A Winding Road. Eddie loves how easy it is for you to fit in, like you’ve always been a part of the group – screaming the lyrics with Nancy and Robin so loud that Steve opens his window to let the sound leak out. 

When Eddie get’s the phone he smirks, typing in his choice before passing it back to Steve who chuckles when he presses play. 

“Oh yes,” Robin laughs when the opening riff of Santana’s Smooth booms against the leather interior, “You would.”  “Of course I would,” Eddie grins, tossing you a look for your approval. You nod back at him, mouthing along with the lyrics, rolling and shimmying your shoulders to match Robin’s dancing in the front. He gulps silently, knowing that there’s still a conversation to be had. Do you always hide your disappointment like this? Are you over it? Are you okay? And if you are -- why does it feel like this? Like you don't want his attention? Like you don't want him to touch you? 'Cause it's all he can think about with you next to him, looking pretty the way that you do. Looking perfect. Feeling like an old sweatshirt he wants to be covered in. “It’s the same as the emotion that I get from you, You got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth, yeah Give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it.”  He doesn’t notice at first that his fingers twitch along with the chords when the solar starts. "Wait, tell her the story about Wayne banning this song from your life," Robin says, turning back towards the two of you behind her. "Banned from his life?" you ask in surprise, but your attention is on Robin, "Does he just really not like Rob Thomas?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, biting his lower lip before recounting why it's banned from ever playing at Forest Hills, “I was obsessed when I was little. Sat in my bedroom for weeks listening to it over and over so I could teach myself by ear. Wayne – my uncle – he told me I could never listen to it again. He threw my stereo out the window that summer, he was so pissed – so sick of it, and then got even more mad that he had to buy me a new one. But I had to promise to never play it again at his house for as long as he was alive. And no one else is allowed to play it at the park either.”

“Can you still do the solo?” you ask, eyes finally landing on him. His breath hitches when your eyes meet, mouth going dry.

“Oh yeah,” his voice cracks awkwardly, fingers still playing an air guitar on his lap, “Learned to play a lot of his stuff when I was a teenager. John Mayer too, if you can believe it.”  “Very toxic soft boy of you,” you tease.  “Listen sugar, it was a hit with the ladies,” his voice is soft, but still teasing -- desperate to recreate the banter you've had over the past few weeks. You get nervous, he can tell by the way your knee bounces and a flick of another smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Sugar, he thinks, s’that all it takes? When you get the phone you make your pick, certain of it now. Steve nods in agreement when he presses play on Aaliyah’s Are You That Somebody?  “I knew I liked her,” Steve says, catching him in the rearview again, “She better be sticking around.”

Eddie is silently thankful for the encouragement.

The rest of the surrounding towns must’ve had a similar idea because the first half of the beach was full by the time you got there despite the early wake up. Steve’s SUV strolls down the expansive parking lot while It’s Gonna Be Me plays, the boys and Robin screlting along with the music – singing into the straws of their iced coffees.  The bridge hits near the end and he doesn’t want to be obnoxious but he does want to impress you so he hits the runs where he can.  ‘Don’t wanna lose it, but I’m not li-ii-ke that, When finally, finally, You get to lo-oo-ve, Guess what, guess what…’ Steve finally finds parking and you all hop out onto the asphalt, the sun already hot on your skin. The woosh of hot air hits his face, catching against the nervous sweat on his forehead and neck. Macho is as macho does, Eddie and Steve make their way to the trunk, taking all of the coolers and bags of beach games while leaving the chairs to the ladies. 

“We brought you an extra,” Eddie smiles, “In case you didn’t have one.”  “I brought you an extra,” Steve corrects, eyes falling on you from behind his Ray Bans, “You can thank me later, angel.” 

“You do not have to thank him,” Eddie scrunches his nose while you all walk to the wood planked entrance covered in sand. This area was at least less crowded but far from the bathrooms and food stalls by the front of the parking lot. He can feel your eyes on him, following the way his cut off shirt rides up revealing the end of a snake and sword tattoo off his side and oblique. Lingering on the top of his jeans, on the ways his biceps and forearms flex at every move of the load he’s holding. He swallows hard, suddenly so aware of himself and what he looks like – do you like it? Do you think he looks good? 

The blankets get placed and so do the chairs, Steve and Nancy expertly get the umbrella in – she reads the directions out loud and Steve does what she says as she says it. When everything is settled you kick off your sandals and put it by your canvas tote, taking out your sunglasses. Eddie sits on the blanket below you, watching you get yourself together. You reach for the bottom of your shirt, a tee from some time in your life when he didn’t know you. Eddie’s mouth falls open when you pull it up over your head; his tongue curls up in his mouth when he sees the soft arch in your back, the way your breasts press up against the edge of your suit. That red suit. 

He licks his lips absentmindedly, unable to look at you when you start taking your shorts off because if he watches the jiggle your ass and thighs he won’t be able to deal. He’s lucky he’s wearing aviators big enough to cover his saucer like eyes – embarrassed by the way his body react like some teenager reading a Playboy. He's a grown man for god's sakes.

“H-hey Rob,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “You uh, um, you wanna check out the water?” “Yeah, gimme one sec,” she calls out, tossing her hair up in a claw clip from her back pack. “That’s mine,” Nancy argues, “How long have you had that?!”  Robin shrugs, “Long enough that you didn’t miss it.”  “You do this every time you come over. You always steal something,” she huffs, Robin popping her gum between her teeth in response.

"It's a little something to remember you by, Nance," she shrugs with a smirk. “You wanna come?” he asks you, shrugging off his shorts and throwing his trunks over his boxer briefs.  “Not yet, want it to get a little hot before I check it out,” you explain, taking your sunscreen out.  He huffs a laugh, trying a hand at being flirty despite the distance he feels between you, “Well, to be honest sugar, you’re already lookin’ pretty h–”  “Don’t embarrass yourself,” Robin breathes, patting him on the back, “Let’s go.” 

He takes a look back at you smiling at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” “I’ll be here,” you wave him off while you start to spray your sunscreen on your arms. He turns back towards the water, crashing in waves and sliding up the shore. The sun kissed his skin over his crop, still not ready to take it off yet. 

“You gonna make it, Ed?” Robin asks, bumping her shoulder against his, "You're fumbling bad. She looks good."

“I just – fuck Rob,” he shakes his head, looking down at their feet while they step over shells and seaweed on the bank above the shore, “It feels ruined. Like she came to like, to check to see if she still likes me."  

“I don’t know what it is. It just doesn't feel easy like it was before,” he shrugs, “How I’m supposed to bring up last weekend or like, how to talk to her anymore.” “She seems totally fine,” Robin says with a look, “Maybe you’re just over thinking it.” “She seems totally fine with you guys but I don’t know – it feels like for me there’s a wall there. Like the insane connection we had before just doesn’t matter because I’m a dumbass. Maybe this should’ve just been a fling and after today we’ll just end it,” he rambles on, “Am I making sense?”  

“You are making sense,” she agrees, “But I don't think you ruined it. I think you're being kind of down on yourself about it and you're doing it on purpose." "What does that even mean?" he snaps. "It means, she wouldn't have come if she didn't want to work it out with you. Like, why would she come hang out for the day with your friends if she wasn't trying to make an effort to fix things?" "Well I mean--" "Not done," she says, putting her hand up, "And further, I think one little hint of something not going totally perfect makes you so afraid that you're gonna get hurt bad like with Chrissy. And it's clear that you really like this girl -- like, really like her. And that freaks you out, so you don't want to go through the motions of fixing it just in case things go left a second time."

“It doesn’t freak me out,” he shuts it down quickly but he knows she’s right, sighing when he considers it, “Maybe it does. Maybe it's scaring me that I'm already thinking about her like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“I dunno, like I wanna be with her. Like really with her,” he shrugs while they step into the foaming leftovers of a wave receding. The water is freezing, not yet warmed up from the heat of summer since the ninety degree weather is such a mid-spring surprise. 

“Fuck!” they both hiss in unison, stepping ankle deep into the water. 

“Be with her like…marry her?” she asks, crystal blue eyes squinting into the horizon, "You sure you're not simultaneously thinking too far ahead?"

“Maybe,” he says, pulling his hair out of its ponytail and shaking it out at the root. The curls at the base of his neck already starting to get tight and coiled with sweat. 

“I should probably start by being her boyfriend first,” he laughs. "You should probably start by working through this little snag first," she corrects, "You can be her boyfriend some other time." "Not all of us want a perpetual 'will they, won't they' relationship like two idiots in bikinis that I know," Eddie teases her, pulling his hair back up in the scrunchy he also stole from Nancy when they went to her house for a movie night. 

“Don’t let Wheeler see you with that,” she warns, reaching out for his hand while they turn back towards the sand. Eddie takes it, savoring the reassuring squeeze she offers in understanding. 

“What’s she gonna do, Buckley?” Eddie raises a brow, “Eat me out about it?” 

“Don’t be a fucking asshole,” Robin snorts, letting go to give him a shove in the shoulder while sand kicks of from their heels. 

Back where the towels and beach blankets are set up, you’re on your stomach, leaning your head to one side in a conversation with Nancy that has you giggling with each other. He nudges Robin with his shoulder who nudges him back. He wonders if Robin feels the same way about Nancy as he feels about you. He wonders if Robin will ever tell her. 

“How’s the water?” Nance asks, propping her chin up on the heel of her hand. 

“Freezing,” Eddie grimaces, “Like, bone chilling.” “I’m not surprised,” you shrug, “It’s not real hot yet.” “Just fake hot?” he asks back. “Yeah, just fake hot,” you agree with a scrunch of your nose. Still quick. 

Nervously, he makes the commitment of pulling off the cut off tee he came in, never normally thinking much about his body until you were right there in front of him but lightyears away. Eddie didn’t think he looked bad, but compared to Steve’s tanned, defined chest and abs he thought maybe he left more to be desired. It had kind of always felt like that, he thought, even when he was married. He wanted to feel like someone worth bragging about, and by the end of his relationship with Chrissy – she wasn’t really doing much bragging. With the way he could feel your eyes on him earlier, he was more self conscious now than he had been in years. He folds it up the shity nice, tossing it down on the beach blanket by you before sitting down and fishing into his bag for some sun screen. He’s meticulous with it over his tattoos, standing back up to get the snake and sword on his oblique fully covered.  

“This is kind of cliche but would you be down to get my back?” he asks hopefully, turning toward you, “I can do yours.” 

“Steve did mine,” you reply, face quirking from behind your sunglasses. “Oh um, wow,” he tries to shake it off, but the comment stings.Thinking about Steve having his hands on you in this suit before he ever even got the chance. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure, “Nancy got my back, but I can do yours.”  He frowns, “Don’t joke like that, please.” 

You get quiet and nod, taking the sunscreen from him. “Sorry,” you say in a whisper. Miles away. He wants to apologize for your apology. 

You’re gentle when you rub the sunscreen onto his back, taking extra care of the ink on his shoulder blade flowing down and wrapping into the tattoos on his ribcage. You can tell by the depth of the ink that he takes good care of them, feeling him relax under your touch. Eddie leans his head to the side while you continue, seeing two girls making their way down the sandy banks just by where their crew was set up. They lay out their towels while awkwardly trying to get their umbrella in place – laughing while they keep getting it wrong. When you’re done with his back, he thanks you softly – happy to see that you settle back down next to him. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna take them to finally get it in?” you ask. If he was a stupid boy he’d say ‘That’s what she said’, but he’s not so–

“That’s what she said,” Steve jokes. Eddie turns to see that Steve’s lifted up his Raybans, enjoying the show as the girls dig and shove their umbrella into the sand – losing sight of one of their towels now blowing over in the wind. 

“Come the fuck on,” one of them groans, but they are laughing too hard to be mad, too hard to grip the umbrella tight enough. It’s not lost on Eddie that Steve is watching because the girl with the umbrella in her hands, with her black suit and cat eye sunglasses, is nearly bursting out of her bathing suit top with a cleavage that even makes his own eyes widen. 

“Be right back,” Steve says, getting up out of his beach chair.  “Don’t be embarrassing,” Robin begs, “Please.” Steve flips her off while he walks by her, taking a few more steps past the beach blankets and running a hand through his chestnut hair. 

“Ahoy ladies!” he calls out, “Need a hand?” 

“Ew,” Robin mumbles, “He’s so weird.” 

“He’s gonna come back with both of their numbers, just watch,” Nancy says, “Every time.” 

“Is he really that much of a ladies man?” you ask, “He’s kind of – I don’t know. He’s kind of goofy.” 

Eddie laughs hard, Nancy and Robin joining in. Hard belly laughs. Not because of just the question, but the way you asked it. The genuine curiosity, the admission of how you felt. It was the exact thing Steve needed to hear, a shame he wasn’t around to hear it. It’s here that he knows he needs to just bite the bullet and work things out because you’re so sweet. You’re so – you’re just so you. 

“Don’t worry, we don’t get it either,” Nancy laughs, wiping her eyes. 

“Ooh, I needed that, that was good,” Robin breathes, “But you’re right, he’s super goofy.” 

Steve had come back an hour later, putting together their entire set up and taking some time to sit and talk to him. Without fail, he sat back down in his beach chair with two new numbers in his phone; breaking into one of the Yeti coolers and pulling out the canned mixed drinks he packed en-masse. 

“Whose partaking?” he asks, holding one up. It’s only 11 AM but hot weekends are a means for day drinking, and if anyone needs to take the edge off it’s Eddie Munson. Between the awkward half smiles and some back and forth and the way his heart dips and leaps at any given moment while next to you, he’d take any relaxer he can get. 

You all grab a drink, and he watches fondly as you talk about beach reads with Nancy and Robin. Sitting in the sand while the three of you make semi sand castles with each of your cans in dug out cup holders. He admires the way the sun bounces off your shoulders and tries to not admire the way your suit rides up on your hips. He doesn’t want to fix things just on account of being horny. 

Eddie checks his phone for signs of life from Gareth and Tati – they sent a few photos from Flamingo Island. Tatianna feeding the birds while looking like a supermodel and Gareth keeping a distance from the birds while looking awkward and pale. Another, a live photo of a selfie of Tatianna glowing with the beach in the background. Eddie holds his thumb on the picture, letting it play to Gare reaching over from behind to kiss her on the cheek. He smiles, watching them be in love through the photos, eyes flicking from you to them. Wondering when you’ll both be next. 

Robin sparks a pre-roll and you all sneakily split it like kids hiding from the cops. When you pass it to him, your fingers brush, and he can’t help but flash a bright smile at you while he takes it. 

“Thanks, sugar,” he drops his voice purposely, watching as your posture changes – a fluster running through you. 

“You’re welcome,” you mumble, going back to your sand and conversation. 

Eddie pulls his notebook out, a hybrid for a DnD and lesson plan scrap paper for when he thinks of something fun to do that the board will say no to. He takes their no and does it anyway, it’s not like they check. 

He gets up from the beach blanket, opting to set up his chair under the umbrella to get a break from the sun and so he can see the paper in the bright light. Some time passes and he’s knee deep in planning a new campaign when from above the notepad you’d made your way back from the sand, settling back down. 

“I want fries so bad,” you complain. 

“There’s a stand at the end of the beach,” he offers. 

“I don’t want to go get fries,” you sigh, “I would like the fries to be here already.” He licks his lips nervously before closing the notebook over his thumb, “I’ll go with you.” 

You look up at him from your spot on the blanket and he looks down at you, both knowing that being alone together will only bring upon the inevitable. Maybe you both need to grow up. 

“Um,” you hesitate before nodding, “Yeah, yeah okay. Let me just get my shorts on.” 

Eddie puts his notebook away, grabbing his wallet and putting it into the pocket of his trunks before slipping his shoes back on. You throw on your shorts, sliding into your sandals reaching for your bag. 

“You don’t need your bag,” he says gently, “I got it for you.” 

You smile, it’s small, “Oh, well – thanks.” “C’mon,” he says, ticking his head back toward the planked walkway for an easy walk back up to the asphalt. As you walk ahead of him, Robin, Steve, and Nance all exchange glances knowingly. Robin offers him a thumbs up before he turns around, following you up the beach. 

Without the buffer of everyone else, the tension feels worse. He’s not sure whether to reach for you, but when you tuck your hands in your shorts pockets it becomes obvious that you don’t want him to hold your hand. 

“Weather’s pretty wild, huh?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod. Your shoulders bump while you keep walking, not continuing the conversation but muttering a soft apology when you collide. 

Eddie sighs, a little too audibly because your shoulders sulk a bit when he lets out the last of the breath. He can’t really take this anymore, biting his cheeks for resolve and guiding you over to the concrete barrier that separates the boardwalk from the beach. 

“Look,” he begins, voice shaking, “Before we get fries we – we really need to talk about the other night.” 

“I said it was fine,” you respond, but you don’t meet his eye. Your tone lacks energy, like you’re just trying to push it away; but he doesn’t want that. His rings clink against the concrete when he pats the top, “Sit.” 

When you oblige, he stands between your knees, “It’s not fine. You were really upset. I wanna talk about it.” 

“It’s stupid, it doesn’t matter,” you reply, your eyes landing on his shoulder, looking at the people walking past him, “I’ll get over it.” He tentatively puts a hand on your leg, letting his thumb run over your soft skin. A rush runs through him when you don’t pull away, soothingly running his hand back and forth.

“It matters to me,” he says, moving his head so he can catch your gaze. It’s clear now that whatever is part of your own tragic lore has a lot to do with how you approach stuff like this; how you don’t really want to tell him that he hurt your feelings. 

“Is it because of me talking about my ex?” he asks. 

You’re quiet for a few minutes and he’s patient, watching you mull over the night in your head and finding the courage to let the words out. His hand travels from your thigh to where your hand rests on the barrier, interlocking your fingers with his.  

“She’s just so pretty,” you say, voice strained with emotion – weak like you’re swallowing a cry, “And I don’t look like that.” 

“I don’t want you to look like that,” he says gently. 

“It’s not just that…it’s just – I –” you roll your eyes at your own ridiculousness, “I just…I’ve been the rebound a lot, before my ex. Always for people whose partner before looked like your ex-wife, and was perfect, and pretty, and graceful, and all of the nice things you said she was. And I’m sure she’s great, I really believe you.” He squeezes your hand with gentleness while you continue. 

“I just don’t want to like you this much just to be your rebound,” you confess, “And I know you said you like me and that what we’ve been doing so far has been so good, but that’s like – that’s how it always starts out. These guys will act like I’m so great for them just to y’know – toss me when they get what they need. And you just sort of went from talking about how amazing and caring she is to like – talking about my body.” 

His brows crinkle, a frown pulling on his lips, “Why didn’t you tell me I was making you feel like that when I asked?” 

“I didn’t want you to be mad,” you mumble, a crackle in your tone, “Or tell me I was being stupid or get defensive because I just…I didn’t want to ruin it. But I – I ruined it anyway.” 

“No, no,” he shakes his head, taking his sunglasses off, round eyes pleading to you, “Sweetheart you didn’t ruin it. I’m – I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me. I wouldn’t have been mad.” 

“I just really don’t wanna get hurt,” you plead, “I don’t want to waste my time.” “You’re not I – babe, I don’t wanna get hurt either,” he sighs, “But you’re not a rebound. It’s…it’s been three years since I even considered seeing someone seriously. That’s not what I’m looking for. I already told you that night after Barcade how much I like you.” 

“Yeah but people say a lot of things just to get laid,” you shrug. 

His chest deflates, “Is that really what you think of me?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Maybe we just don’t really know each other yet.” 

It dawns on him slowly, you don’t really know each other yet. He knows how he feels about you, and how it feels like he’s known you his whole life. But he doesn’t know your ins and outs and you don’t know his – there’s a patience and excitement about the idea of learning it all.

“I don’t just wanna sleep with you,” he says earnestly, “Hell I was – I was so nervous to kiss you at Little Spoon, and even after Steve’s birthday…I – I’ve been thinking about you for weeks. And when things went left y’know I just – I was waitin’ by the phone for you to say something. I didn’t wanna push because I figured maybe you needed a minute.” “But sugar, I really felt awful,” he continues, letting his hands cup your cheeks, “I really was scared that you just decided you were done with me.” 

“I don’t wanna be done with you,” you say through squished cheeks. 

“I don’t wanna be done with you, either,” he says, “Cause getting started has been really great so far.” 

“I still really like you,” you profess. 

“I’m kind of obsessed with you,” he laughs breathily. 

“Yeah, I know,” you laugh, almost a little teary, “I tell you all the time.” 

“I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” he asks, running his tongue over his lips. 

“Okay.” With his hands on your cheeks, he pulls you into him, letting his nose brush your first before pressing his lips against yours – no longer rubbery and despondent in their response. He feels weightless, not even caring about the people walking by who might be staring when he slips his tongue into your mouth. Kissing you feels more right than ever. Kissing you feels like coming home. 

When he breaks away, breathless, his eyes coast over your features, “Shit…” 

“What?” 

“I just…I really fucking like you.” 

You lean forward to bless him with a kiss again, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be afraid to steal one from you whenever he wants now. 

You continued your talk on the remainder of the walk to get fries, explaining your insecurities that he quelled with each thought that passed your lips. He confessed to the tears in his Honda and how he didn’t mean to come off so in love when talking about Chrissy – just that she was important to him, and that part of him will love her in a fond way, always. You confess you have a few people like that in your life too, but you’ll talk about that in ‘another episode’. He lets you know you only have to talk about things when you’re ready. 

On the way back, you hold hands, Eddie holding the bag with your fries in the other. He presses kisses to your temple and cheek every few intervals – laughing at you when you stop at the sound of Return of the Mack to hit a groove. 

“Truthfully, this is one of my favorite songs of all time,” you tell him, “And I played it all week to try to make myself feel better.” 

“Did you dance like this in your house each time?” 

“I did.” 

“I’m sad I missed it, I could’ve used a laugh,” he teases. 

“You’re very cruel,” you concede, hip bumping him while you continue on, “You’d die to have me give you a lap dance.” 

His ears turn pink at the thought, “Heh, well um…well if you’re offering…”

“It’s on the table,” you shrug, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“It can be anywhere, sweetheart – table, chair, in space – you name it I —” 

He stops when he notices the way a guy looks at you as he walks by, eyes scanning from the top of your head down to your thighs. Eddie’s head tilts, following the guys vision even as you pass – the man getting a good look as your ass with abandon. 

“Hey,” Eddie snaps, a touch of pride swelling in his chest. The guy looks up and meets his eye. 

“Yeah, you,” he continues, holding eye contact with a furrowed brow, “See somethin’ you like, chief?” 

“Listen man, I’m not startin’ trouble here I was – I was just –” 

“You were just walkin’ the other way,” Eddie finishes for him, “Get fuckin’ lost.” 

You tuck your lips into your teeth, while Eddie guides you away, hand wrapping around you to slide from your waist to your ass with a firm squeeze before settling in your shorts back pocket. You turn to look at him while you walk and he shakes his head. 

“Don’ look at me like that,” he huffs a laugh, grinning slightly, “Look, this is my ass.” 

“Well, technically it’s my ass but um, y’know, whatever you say,” you respond, a little breathy. He remembers the way you mentioned tipsily at the bar that you liked that streak in him. And if anything this true now, after these conversations, he wants everyone to know you’re his. He’s not playing around. 

When you get back to the group there’s another set of blankets next to yours, and a collection of more friends that you remember from Steve’s party. 

“Oh, hey freaks,” Eddie chimes when they all say their cheery hellos to the both of you. He nods at Erica in respect, “Miss Applejack.” 

“Nerd,” she hums out, fishing out a Nerf howler from Steve’s bag to play with Max and Lucas. Steve, of course, is back over making a fool of himself by the girls from earlier while Nancy, Robin, Dustin play cards. Mike, who you haven’t met, is stuck in a book under the umbrella. 

“What’re you reading Wheeler?” Eddie asks, taking you hand in hand back to the blanket to sit down. 

“It’s called The Ethical Slut,” he murmurs, “Me and El are practicing Ethical Non Monogamy while she’s in LA with Will.” 

“Practicing what?” he asks through a mouthful of fry. 

“Ethical non-monogamy,” he sighs, peering over the pages, “My guys at Oberlin were telling me about it. It’s like, it’s like being open.” 

Eddie pulls a face and take the book out of his hand, hitting him in side of the head with it, “Don’t be fuckin’ weird, dude.” 

“It’s not – ugh it’s not weird, you’re just old and don’t get it,” he sighs. 

“You’re old and don’t get it, tool,” Eddie clicks his tongue, “This is why you’re both always fighting.” 

“Oh my god, we’re not always fighting we just–” “Alright twerps, meet my friends,” Steve says with a game show host smile, hands showing off the two girls from before. They introduce themselves, everyone going around to offer their names, too. 

“And over there is Lucas, Max, and Erica,” Steve says, pointing at the three closer to the edge of the shore. He motions for them to sit, offering them drinks from the coolers while they make themselves comfortable. 

“I think we should play never have I ever so we can all get to know each other,” Steve offers, sitting between the two women who giggle whenever he looks at them. Clear from the look on their faces that he definitely snuck one of Robin’s pre-rolls over to spark up before bringing them to the group. 

“No, Steve, we’re not playing that,” Eddie waves the suggestion off like a bad smell. 

“How come?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Cause we’re in our fuckin’ 30s, what is this, a high school beach party?” 

“You just don’t like it ‘cause you always lose,” Steve teases, catching your eye, “He’s a sore loser, angel.” 

“I believe this,” you nod. 

“Okay, well, I still said what I said,” Eddie huffs. 

“There’s no way, look, I’ll start with an easy one,” you offer, “Never have I ever um…spent a weekend in jail.” 

Eddie scowls with a gravelly sigh, bringing a beer to his lips. Steve barks a laugh, “See, I told you – sore loser.” 

Max, Lucas, and Erica come back to the blankets when they see the newcomers sitting with the group. Max tosses Robin and look and Eddie knows that means they’ll be double teaming to make sure Steve looks like a tool at every given moment. Lucas asks if it’s a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’ and everyone excitedly agrees except for Eddie whose stewing, and Mike whose chest deep in his book. 

“Okay, we don’t have to play,” you soothe, running your hand over his bicep, “But damn, you spent a weekend in jail?” 

“I have spent,” he sighs, taking another sip of beer, “A lot of weekends in jail, sweetheart.” 

“Like – for bad stuff?” 

“Like, for stupid shit,” he explains, “I was a dumb kid, it was all dumb shit. But yeah, I got a little record. Nothing crazy enough to keep me from teaching.” 

“Sooo mysterious,” you tease, laying down on your back while you snag a fry from the back, “Very bad boy of Dawson’s Creek.” 

“Mean,” he glares playfully, laying next to you, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about you, then.” 

“Hmm,” you think, turning to look him over, “I am lifeguard and WSI certified.” 

“WSI?” 

“Water safety instructor,” you answer, “I teach swim lessons. Well used to.” 

“You know like, first aid and stuff?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod excitedly, “Like CPR and stuff.” 

“Hm,” he hums, leaning on his side, propping his head up, “Like you could give me mouth to mouth?” 

“Don’t be horny and gross,” you laugh, “I could save your life.” “It would save my life to have your mouth on my mouth, I promise,” he says with a hint of seriousness. 

“Tell me somethin’ else I don’t know about you, jailbird,” you prompt, matching his posture. 

“Ummm, ah!” he snaps, “I um, I speak Spanish.” Your brows furrow, “Like, fluently?” 

“Sí, con fluidez,” he smirks. 

“Show off,” you grin.

“Ooh, you think it’s hot, don’t you?” he laughs, “You think I’m so sexy.” 

“You’re somethin’,” you sigh, “How’d you get fluent in Spanish?” 

“I took it in high school and college,” he shrugs, “But I worked at a pretty authentic Colombian restaurant for like, five years while teaching before getting to the private school. I was in the kitchen and all the guys spoke Spanish so I sorta committed. And y’know, a lot of my kids’ parents speak Spanish so it’s helpful to be able to communicate with them too. I don’t wanna lose it, so I practice a lot.” 

“Look at you,” you encourage, “What else would surprise me?” 

“Oh I don’t know,” he shrugs, feeding you a fry, “Maybe – hmm – I love Sza.”  “The singer?” you ask through a mouthful. 

“Yes,” he nods, “She’s my celebrity pass I’m, wow, I love her. She’s so fine. But also, I dig her sound – Ctrl is one of my favorite albums of all time. We even do a cover of The Weekend at our sets sometimes.” 

“How does that work? Like, is it just a screamo version?” 

“Screamo? Don’t disrespect me like that,” he holds a hand to his chest over his silver chains, “We’re a metal band, baby.” “Sorry, please excuse me. Like, is it just a metal version?” you repeat back with a little bite. He rests the tip of his tongue by the sharp point of his canine when he smiles at you, flicking over your face before looking back into your eyes. 

“It’s kind of a Deftones-y version,” he shrugs. 

“Oh,” you nod, “Okay.” 

“What?” 

“Nothin’ just, would really like to hear that someday,” but there’s something in the way you say it, “Did you ever record it?” 

“Might’ve? Maybe just rehearsals,” he shrugs, “If we did, it’s somewhere on my hard drive.” “Well, maybe we can find it later.” “Later?” he asks, eyes glittering with excitement, “You’re – you’re gonna come over?” 

“Yeah, I – I packed a little extra just in case,” you giggle. He knew he was right, that feeling in his gut when he took your bag. He was gonna give you the re-do of a the century. 

“We’ll look for it when we get home and you can listen,” he promises. “It’d be cool to hear it live one day,” you suggest. He makes a note to put it back in rotation for the summer set list; even though they put the cover to bed some time last year. 

“You wanna see me play?” 

“Of course,” you nod, “You’re gonna be a famous rockstar, remember? We went over this.” 

“You’re right,” he nods back, leaning forward, tucking a fingertip under your chin, “I remember.” 

You both ignore the coos and aws from the group as he leans in to kiss you. 

‘After sun sleepy’ is what you called it in the car as the group of you piled in, the weight of the day heavy on your eyelids. Salt and sand coated both of you, a soft tinge of pink glowed off of Eddie’s shoulders where the sunscreen couldn’t hold out any longer. The ride home was less eventful than the ride there, everyone tuckered out and sun soaked from the day’s activities. Steve gave you both some parting teasing once you let him know he didn’t have to drop you off at your house once he pulled up in front of Eddie’s. 

“Use protection,” he calls out from the window. 

“Bye,” Eddie calls back out, “Don’t ever come back.” 

He’s much cooler about opening the door this time around, not speedily trying to get things done before the party made it back to his. No count down for when you had to leave. He has the rest of the night and all of tomorrow to have you to himself. This time he could take it slow, take his time, you could both relax. “I need to shower,” you mumble, slipping your sandals off in the entryway. “We can shower,” he nods, placing the beach bags down next to his Vans – he’ll deal with that later. You turn around on the balls of your feet, smirking while your arms fold across your chest. He tries to ignore the way your boobs push in and up, the top curve of tour cleavage  making him feel dumb. 

“We?” you ask. 

“Uhh,” he coughs to buy time, smirking to himself behind his hand, “I just – um – I don’t know. I don’t know why I said that. Why I said it like that.” 

You laugh, watching him sputter, “I think I know why you said it like that.” 

“Look,” he puts his hands up, “It may or may not have been something I’ve been thinking about at night when I’m trying to avoid grading papers. That’s all.” 

He guides you to the bathroom, stopping at the small closet down the hall to grab you both towels and washcloths; fresh from the dryer this morning. It’s when you’re both standing on the tile floor, water running, that he realizes what’s next and he’s…well, he’s nervous. 

He holds his breath while you take down your shorts, thumbs looping into the straps of your bathing suit to start pulling it down. He braces himself, watching some sand come down with the red fabric while you tug it further over your chest, down your stomach until it’s on the floor. Every inch of you available for him to see, and it doesn’t feel like the horny sexual guttural reveal he has imagined it to be. It feels different, eyes scanning over you, your decolletage, your breasts, the peak of your nipples, the dimples in your skin just above your stomach. Your belly, your thighs, the smattering of cellulite where they meet, following all the way down to your toes. Eddie regards you like a painting, like something too sacred to touch. A tug pulls in his ribcage, butterflies in his stomach, throat getting tight where he almost wants to cry. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. So beautiful that it’s unfair. 

“Wow…” he whispers, delicate and subdued. A smile spreads across your face, so bright and genuine that he melts. 

“I’m guessing that’s a good wow,” you infer, pulling back the shower curtain to step in. He catches a glimpse at the back of you, sucking in a breath at the curve of your thighs and hips, meeting to prop up a butt cheek while one foot stays on the lip of the tub. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s um, it’s a really good wow,” he answers, albeit dumbly. 

“You coming in, too?” you ask, stepping fully behind the curtain. 

“Yep, yeah,” Eddie nods, hurrying back to himself only to feel the aching tension in his pants. He groans internally, humiliation bubbling in his belly like he got called on in class to come to the board. This was going to happen eventually, right? You were going to see it eventually? So why is it so weird thinking about being in the shower with you. You know he has one, it’s not weird, it’s not…a surprise. 

Just take your pants of, Munson, c’mon, he urges to himself. He awkwardly shimmies his trunks down, folding down the boxer briefs beneath them where sand had collected uncomfortably in side. 

Sand in my fucking ball sack and now I have to go stand in the shower with her? Are you kidding? he grumbles internally. His shirt gets pulled over his head and he’s face to face with himself in the mirror over the sink. A dusting of freckles forming on his shoulders in the soft pink of the mild sunburn, a little burn on the bridge of his nose. Tattoos vibrant against skin that just never seems to get enough sun. 

Eddie leaves his rings in Tatianna’s jewelry bowl that they started to share when Tatianna taught him that his jewelry will last longer if he stops showering with it on. As his silver chains drizzle in next to his rings, he takes a breath, turning toward the shower curtain where he can already smell his body wash wafting through the steam. 

“Did you start without me?” he asks, fingers taking in the fabric. 

“You’re taking forever, and I hate feeling sandy,” you respond. He steps in, the warm water hitting his toes, seeing yours where the suds hit to go down the train. When he looks up to see you, he gulps – not only naked, but naked and soapy. 

Jesus Christ, he sighs in his head. Any sense of calming down his cock had long since passed now. 

“Sorry,” he says quietly, hand covering himself while he steps in.

“It’s okay,” you assure, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. Eddie’s cheeks redden when he watches you scan over him, a satisfied smile pulling your cheeks toward your eyes, “Hey, you.” 

“Hey,” he chokes out, the ease of talking to you and getting you flustered is suddenly harder than it’s ever been before. With a nervous step forward, he reaches for your hips, bruised and rough fingertips sliding over your skin from his assault on his guitar earlier this week. Eddie gulps when he steps fully behind you, his length pressing flat against him between the two of you with a friction that makes both get a hitch in your breath. 

He leans in to print a kiss on your shoulder, a waft of cedar, bergamot, and vetiver on your skin. Another kiss and he leans his forehead against it while you both stand in the stream of the water. 

“You are…” he trails off, taking a shuddering inhale, “You are so, so beautiful.” 

One hand stays on your hip while to other travels up to your waist, to just under your breasts. Slipping and sliding on the soap and water mixing on your skin with left over sunscreen to be washed down the drain. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, headiness deepening your voice. Neither of you move too quickly, letting him press kisses over you before finally kissing your lips to switch sides in the shower. He lathers up and you see it. Your brows raising in surprise while he lets the water soak his curls. 

“What?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 

“You know what,” you laugh. 

“No, I don’t know what,” it’s a tease and he knows that, but it’s still fun to watch you get like this. 

“You weren’t lying when you said – when you y’know…” 

“When I said…?” 

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes, embarrassment evident on your face, “When you said it was big.” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods coolly, scrubbing shampoo into his hair, “Why would I lie about that?” 

And despite his half chill demeanor at the comment, he is fucking cheering so loud in his head that you think this about him and are saying it outloud. 

“Well don’t get a big head,” you joke, taking the remaining wash cloth from the edge of the tub and loading it with water and soap, “It’s more important that you know how to use it.” 

He tilts his head at you after rinsing out the shampoo, “Be honest, do I look like a guy that doesn’t know how to use it?” 

“Like I said before,” you reach forward with the washcloth, massaging it onto his shoulder, “We don’t know each other.” 

It’s the way you touch him and the mild scolding that makes his knees weak. You’re soft but deliberate, sudsing him up on his chest and back while he smooth conditioner in his hair. A muffled moan comes from his diaphragm when you ease the cloth over his lower belly, soap catching on the hair of his happy trail. Your eyes flick up at him mischievously, stepping closer to him to give him a kiss. Eddie sighs into it, letting the water pour down his back and rinse the conditioner out while he leans in rest a hand on your cheek, the other takes the wash cloth from you. 

“Do you not want me to do it?” you ask sheepishly. 

“I want you to do it way too much,” he smirks against your lips, quickly leaning down to get his legs and nether regions, “But thank you, you’re very sweet.” 

There’s plenty of hot water left, and it doesn’t go to waste. Both of you standing in the shower, soapy and fresh where you both feel safe enough to explore. His hands roam the expanse of you, trailing from the top of your neck down to your ass, cupping your breasts and with a gentle squeeze while you both gasp between kisses. His rigid length stays pressed between you, leaking pitifully while snuggly hugging your hip bone. 

You leave his kiss bitten mouth to nip at his jaw, down further to run your tongue from the base of his neck to the shell of his ear. Unable to hold back anymore, he whines. Needy and desperate, he does it again when your tongue flicks at his earlobe. 

“Mmm’god,” he breathes, slurring. He feels your smile against his skin when you go back to his neck, embarrassed at the reveal of his sensitive ears and jugular. Your tongue traces the tattoo on his right peck, some scratchy shitty demon head he got when he was sixteen from some older kid in his living room. Wayne would’ve made him sleep outside if it hadn’t gotten infected and needed attention. Eddie keeps meaning to get it covered, but by the way you’re kissing over it he thinks maybe he’ll keep it around. 

He twitches when you get to his ribs, a sharp inhale making him stand rigid while you move further down his body. Your hands rest on his stomach and glide to his thighs while you take your place on your knees in the cramped tub. His cock standing at attention straight out, reddening at the tip, in some way knowing there’s a girl staring right at it without his brain needing to send the signal. 

“This okay?” you ask, looking up at him with dew drops in your lashes. He nods, afraid that if he speaks he’ll just spill all over, one false move and he’ll end the night before it even began. 

You move slow, hands just under the swell of his butt. You bypass his erection and kiss his hip bone, then his pelvis. He shivers, hand gripping the shower curtain rod, white knuckling the ceramic coated metal while your breath coasts over his shaft. 

Your wet tongue runs flat from base to tip, making his eyes shut tight. 

“Shit,” he whimpers and you chuckle. He could just die, feeling the vibration of it on his head where your tongue stays. Your hand grips him gently, pumping him while you keep the top half in your mouth and against your lips. He cracks his eyes open to look down at you, mouth hanging open at the immediate eye contact he gets from you looking up at him. Mouth full and eager, wet and hot. 

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, free hand delicately resting on the back of your head. You continue your double duty for a few more stroke before dropping your hand. Your eye contact stops, determination in your brow when he feels your mouth and throat open up around him. Your head moving further down his shaft with skill – snug and tight. He thrusts forward slightly, moaning as you work with his hips. Eddie feels himself tighten, the heat in his belly growing to a steady and churning thrum. 

You like the challenge of getting him off and he can tell by how you keep going, down far enough that you gag and as much as he hates himself for it the sound sends him hurtling towards release. With a cruel bite to his inner cheek he holds back, but the sight of you with spit trailing from your mouth to his shaft does little to aid in settling him down. Almost pornographic. 

You wipe your mouth, reaching your hand out to stroke him again, but as your mouth leans in to start up he pulls his hips back.

“Baby, baby, wait stop–” he whines, moving away. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your thighs. 

“I just..wow I –” he collects himself, offering his hand to help you stand up on the slippery tub floor, “I haven’t um – wow, I haven’t had my dick sucked in a – in a long time and I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna cum yet.” 

Your worry turns into a cocky and confident smirk, “Oh, was that where that was heading?” 

He takes another ragged breath to steady himself, “Don’t get slick, we got all night.” 

You kiss until the water turns cold. 

Two boxes of pizza sit open on the coffee table in front of the couch you’re both snuggled up in. Both of your bellies are full and eyes drowsy in the glow of the TV. The sun had made its way down and the weather cooled off considerably, the breeze from the windows keeping you both under blankets with your bodies wrapped around each other in a cozy post carb bliss. 

“This is honestly all I’ve wanted for weeks,” Eddie murmurs. 

“What is?” you ask, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose hits his cheek. 

“This,” he says softly, “Being all snuggled up on my couch with you.” “You’re so cheesy,” you tease. 

“Yeah, that’s something you should get to know about me,” he says into a kiss, “M’super cheesy.” 

“Huge tool,” you nod, another kiss. 

“It’s really bad,” he agrees, “I’m so annoying.” “So annoying,” you mumble, tongue striping his lower lip. He grants you access with ease, tongue dancing with yours while you maneuver your way onto his lap like you had after Steve’s party. 

“Snuggled up on my couch with no one to interrupt us,” he says, looking up at you with desperate eyes, “Right?” 

You bite your lip nervously, the confidence from the shower ebbing away even in the heat of the moment, “Right.” “Come with me,” he says, voice sweet and slow like molasses. Eddie eases you off his lap, taking your hand to bring you into his bedroom – which he scrubbed to sparkling the night before. At the foot of his bed he kisses your cheek, fingers running over the hem of your sleep shirt, no longer a sputtering idiot but smooth in his movements while he eases it off you. 

He leans down to kiss your neck, earning him a breathy sigh while your back arches into him. His thumbs tuck under the band of your sweats and panties, letting them fall to the floor by your feet – easing you on to your back on his comforter. 

He takes down his own sweats, half hard as he climbs onto the bed on his knees, kneeling between yours. Your arms come up to snake under his, wrapping around his back, hands landing on his traps. He relents leaning down on his forearms so you’re skin to skin, chest to chest. Your noses brush, Eddie using his to angle your face to him, pressing your foreheads together, the tops of your lips touching. 

“This is okay, right?” he asks, the warm white glow of the rope light on his far wall illuminating the frizz in his curls like a halo. It cradles your face, bouncing off your eyes that look so sweet at him. 

“I think if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be naked under you right now,” you say back, barely audible. 

“Right, right,” he chuckles, lips attaching to yours with needy hunger. He stiffens below the belt, groaning when your hips roll up to meet his, when your legs wrap around him. But he can’t just start like that, pushing up again onto his hands. 

“I gotta go down on your first,” he huffs. 

“I mean I’m not gonna say no,” you laugh, he laughs too. A pepper of pecks following from your lips and down your chest, he takes fond care of your nipples on the way down. Tongue and teeth gently nipping and licking while his fingers explore between your legs. 

“Eddie…” your breathy call of his name sends a shiver through him, feeling how wet you are already just from having him pressed up against you like this. 

“That feels good?” he asks tentatively, meeting his fingers between your thighs. 

“Mhm,” you sigh, back arching slightly while his face disappears and all that can be seen are the tops of his curls. He dips and swirls his tongue in all the ways you liked before, burying himself deeper the more you react. Each desperate cry spurring him on to continue, each pump of his fingers inside you making you clench around the digits. 

“You taste,” he starts, replacing his fingers with his tongue at your entrance for a bit before breaking to your inner thigh, “so, so good.” 

“Please do that again,” you whine, weak and pitiful. He obliges without hesitation, keening into your touch when you grip his hair at the crown. It stings but he likes it, it stings and he wonders how hard you can pull. When you start to get loud he lifts his head up, brows raised under his fluffy bangs. 

“Wow,” he smiles into a snicker, “Y’know, I got neighbors sweetheart.” 

“Oh my god,” you laugh shakily, covering your face, “M’sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says with a shake of his head, crawling back up your body. He moves your hands away, looking down at you, “You’re not fuckin’ with me, right?” 

You shake your head no, “I’m not fucking with you it’s — yeah, even better the second time.” 

He shrugs with a cheesey grin, “Well y’know I’m kinda—”

“Don’t be a dweeb,” you put two fingers to his lips, “Shut up and fuck me.” 

Eddie chokes on his words, “Oh, yes uh — yes ma’am, absolutely.” 

He nervously climbs over you to get to his side table drawer, the box of condoms he found last week sitting undisturbed. He rips the foil open with his teeth, taking his time to roll it on while you turn to your side to watch him. 

“It’s bad for your teeth to do that,” you note. 

“Is that your concern right now?” he asks, looking up from under his brow while he finishes the task. 

“I’m just saying,” you shrug. He motions you further up the bed, settling between your legs again, taking a chance to admire you below him. Soft curves and skin, legs pressed against your chest and splayed open for him, a peace offering after years of not getting it right. You were right. 

“You’re just saying?” he replies with the tilt of his head, smoothing back down to press himself against you, a bruising kiss in his wake, “S’that it? You were just saying?” 

“Mmmhmm,” your response is muffled against his lips, a low whine bubbling through your kiss as his tip catches between your legs. Neither of you take pause, his hips buck forward, still wrapped up in you and again until he feels it. The firm pressure of your core wrapped around him, sucking him in to the hilt. 

“Jeeesus Christ,” he groans in your ear, pressing his face into your neck. He can tell he’s stretching you out, feeling your nails dig into his back in a sting that feels just as delicious as you pulling his hair. 

“Oh my god,” a strangled moan leaks from your throat in a head voice. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, letting himself rock into you steadily, supporting himself on one arm and the other making it’s way behind your knee to keep you spread open. He pushes up a little, hair falling forward on one side, curtaining one side of your face. 

It’s more than he could’ve imagined, kicking himself for not getting it right in all the day dreams he had of this moment, you look serene. Brows slightly pinched, mouth open to let out all your little huffs and sounds. Your arms let go of him as he raises over you, laying back with your palms up toward the ceiling by your head. He watches as your breasts bounce on your chest, the gentle jiggle in your arms, the arch in your back. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe,aching, “Please.”

And how can he deny you when you ask like that? Maintaining his position he cranes his neck down to latch himself onto you, feeling your hands cup his face. Eddie grunts into the kiss, speed picking up while he chases the pleasure beating like a drum in his body, each lewd smack of skin against skin making him hungry for more. 

You moan wantonly into his mouth, making him moan in return, trying to find any angle and speed to make you keep making those sounds. Neighbors be damned. He pulls out to pull you by the thighs flush to him, pushing back in without a breath and you wail. He can feel your walls squeeze down on him, warm and tight, even tighter when he pushes your legs back up against your chest. From here, he can tell this position works for you – which is perfect because it’s working even better for him. 

“Sh-i-hi-hit, baby,” he grunts, sweat starting to sheen across your skin, “This good?” 

“Yeah.” He has to shut his eyes again, think of something bad so that he doesn’t bust at the sound of you whining like that. Like an amateur porn star who never fakes it. 

“Yeah?” he teases, snaking back down to kiss your neck. 

“Oh god…” you nearly blubber. 

He coasts his lips over you until landing at that spot that he found on his couch a couple weeks ago. The tip of his tongue teasing at first before letting his teeth graze it with his lips. 

“Oh! Oh fuck,” you yelp. He holds in a laugh, nipping and sucking on your neck while your hips meet his thrusts. 

“Oh god, fuck - fuck more,” you groan, voice ragged while he keeps the pace in his hips. Another bright sting accosts him when one of your hands drags down the expanse of his back from under his shoulder blade. 

With a growl he feels you cum, clamping down on him – but you’re so slick that it doesn’t deter his thrusts. You pulse, moans and cries peeling off into a high pitched whisper while he slows down inside of you before coming to a stop. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Y-yeah just…need a sec,” you sigh, “Need a breather.” 

“That’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands comfortingly over your thighs. 

“Are you having fun?” you ask between deep inhales. 

“Oh, I’m having a blast,” he confirms with a laugh, settling back on his calves while you collect yourself, “Are you?” 

“God,” you reply, exasperated, “I knew you were trouble.” “Doesn’t answer my question,” he says with a quirk of his lips. 

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you nod, a sleepiness pulling at your eyes, “Can I say something?” 

“Always.” 

“I thought you’d be a sex playlist kind of guy.” 

“Excuse me?” he asks. 

“You just gave me a ‘has a sex playlist’ vibe,” you shrug. 

“Why do you think that? What vibe?” Eddie’s tone falls under bewilderment, “Do you think I need music on so I can fuck?” 

“I don’t know, you’re a music teacher maybe that’s just your thing,” you laugh at his surprise and mild offense. 

“I don’t need a beat to know what I’m doing, babe, that’s just disrespectful,” he jokes. 

“I was a little surprised when you didn’t go to your stereo to be like ‘Let me just set the mood,’” you’re teasing him on purpose now, it makes his heart skip a beat. That quick mouth of yours coming back full force – he likes you like this. He could love you like this. 

“Set the mood? I’m not setting the mood enough for you, hm?” “You just have a very ‘let me play grunge while I get it on’ sort of energy going on–” “Listen, listen, enough,” he waves you off to shut you up, “Your break is up if you’re gonna use it to make fun-a-me, flip over.” 

“Flip over? Yeah?” you challenge. “Yeah,” he challenges back, gripping you at the hips, “Flip over.” 

Seeing you in an arch like this turns his brain to mush, ass in the air with hips that follow down into your waist and back out again. He smirks, readying himself behind you while his hand smooths over the swell of your hip. 

“I could get very used to this,” he murmurs to himself. 

“Nice view up there, Munson” you ask, cheek pressed up against his pillows. You wiggle your hips against him, tantalizing and slow. 

“Very, very nice,” he assures. He guides his still aching length to your entrance, and he can tell even half way in that this is a position that works for you. Already gripping the sheets next to you before his hips make it align with yours. He doesn’t let it deter him, backing up to give you a not so delicate thrust all the way into you. 

You let out a surprised huff. 

“See what happens when you make fun?” he coos. 

“I will make fun of you all the time if this is what I’m getting out of it,” you smirk. This playfulness is something he missed, feeling familiar, even in this position. He looks you over again, your body a stunning expanse infront of him – not afraid to do what he needs, not afraid to break you. 

Things with Chrissy had been fine, sure. But there felt like there was so much more possibility here, snug tight inside you. 

“Hmm, I’ll make a note of that,” he grits out, steadying himself before starting up a rhythm. He leans his head back with a desperate groan, fingertips sinking into the fat of your hips harder with every ‘plap! plap! plap!’ of his pelvis against your backside. The downside is not getting nearly as good of a view of your face, but if it saves the neighbors from ringing the bell he’s all for it. You’re loud enough with your face in the pillow. 

He sputters, hands moving from hips to waist when you bounce back against him. 

“Shit, doll,” he growls, watching your ass bounce in double time. Every meeting of his thrusts tugs on him quicker, his resolve faltering when you start to come undone under him again. He has no qualms with how easy it is to get you there, in fact, he makes a mental note to try to beat the high score every time. 

Your thighs and hips give way, pressing back down into the mattress where he follows. Eddie readjusts while you catch your breath, letting you lay flat on your belly with your legs together. 

“Stay like this, hm?” he says in a whisper in your ear, kissing your temple. 

“Hmm,” you respond, eyes fluttering closed. 

He settles over your thighs, reaching down to part your lips that are soaked and puffy with latent need. He’s close, and knowing he’s essentially fucked you to sleep is doing nothing but getting him closer. Pushing in slow, with your legs together, makes him shudder. You squeeze your thighs and while he can’t see you he knows you’re smirking to yourself. 

“Hmm, keep doin’ that for me,” he mumbles headily. 

“S’it feel good?” you ask. 

“S’real good, baby,” he murmurs back tightly, still quiet. The ends of his hair tickle your back while he leans forward over you, drilling you hard into the mattress. 

“Oh god, fuck,” he growls when you squeeze your thighs and walls again, “Fuck, baby, just like that.” 

He lets his breath run through his nose like a bull, groaning and grunting before an aching moans pools of out him – spilling into the condom while inside you. 

Pulling out, he takes a heaving breath, taking care of the condom and collapsing beside you. 

“Holy shit,” he sighs, looking at you with glassy eyes. 

“You gonna make it?” you ask with a raise of your brow. Body like dead weight, he wills himself closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms over the covers. 

“If not, that’s totally fine,” he says into your temple, “Dying right now would be totally fine.” 

“Well don’t,” you say back, “I’d prefer you didn’t.” 

“Okay, I won’t," his eyes close with the scent of you in his nose, lulling him to sleep. “Thanks," your sleeply reply vibrates against his chest where your face stay planted in comfort. “You’re welcome.” 

Eddie wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing in the living room, eyes peering open blearily to the sun pouring in from his window. He flicks his eyes over to you, seeing your bare back and steady breaths. Fast asleep. 

He eases out of bed, grabbing his boxers off the floor before making it to the living room on the balls of his feet so he doesn’t step too loudly. At the flip of his phone he’s assaulted with the reflection of himself on an incoming FaceTime call. He answers it, rubbing his eyes when a happy scream echoes through the speaker of his phone. 

“I’m a FIANCEEEEEE!” Tatianna screams from behind her hand, the rock on her finger front and center in the camera.

“Congratulations,” he sing songs, speaking low, “Hold on, hold it a little further away from the camera so I can see.” 

Tatianna flips the camera to show off her ring in the sunlight, Eddie’s heart flutters when it glitters and catches in the rays. She flips the camera back to her, beaming from ear to ear. 

“Did you know?” she asks. 

“Of course I knew,” he says matter of factly, “I’ve known for months. I helped make it happen.” 

“He did so good, Ed,” Tatianna smiles, “Sunrise? He really like – he knows me. That’s my husband! AHHHH!” 

Eddie laughs again but shushes himself, remembering you’re still asleep in the other room. 

“Why’re you being quiet? Oh shit – she’s there huh?” she grins. Gareth makes his way into frame, passing her a glass of champagne. 

“Yeah, guys, she’s here,” he nods, “And she’s sleeping. Otherwise I’d be screaming too.” 

“Sure there was plenty of screaming last night if she’s sleeping,” Gare nudges Tati who nudges him back. Eddie let’s them laugh at him because it would be even worse if they were actually there.

“Everything’s good though? Rob texted me saying things kind of went left but I didn’t want to bring it up if you didn’t bring it up to us,” she asks, sun gleaming off her skin and bright blue bikini top. 

“Everything’s good, we’ll talk about it when you come back,” he assures. 

“Well we don’t wanna interrupt, then,” Gare says, leaning in to kiss Tati on the cheek and then her lips, glossy with champagne. 

“It’s more like I don’t want to interrupt you,” Eddie says back, “I’ll call you later. Love you both.” “Love youuuu,” Tatianna calls back, “I’mma fianceeeee!” 

They cut the call with their mouths on each other and he’s sure he won’t hear back from them for at least a day. He’s glad it at least all went off without a hitch. 

Leaving his phone on the coffee table, he makes his way back to the bedroom where you’re wrapped up in his covers. Running a hand over your shoulder, he gently shakes you awake. 

“Hey pretty,” he coos when your eyes open, “Was gonna make some breakfast, if you want.” 

“Wassonthemenu?” you yawn out, stretching. 

“French toast,” he offers, “I’m kind of a connoisseur.” 

“Ooh that sounds good, I don’t think I’ve had french toast in years,” you say with your eyes closed. 

“Take your time,” he kisses your forehead, “Just meet me in the kitchen.” 

When you do, he’s cracking eggs. Your slow shuffle gets his attention, turning to look at you he sees you picked up his sweats and shirt by mistake. 

“Hello, good morning,” you say stiffly, “It appears I am dressed to impress.” 

“You certainly are,” he jokes back. 

“I’m happy to get some coffee together while you make breakfast,” you offer, “Just let me know where everything is.” 

He points out where you can get started but grabs the mugs for you, giving you a sweet kiss good morning while he does. You don’t talk much, just the sounds of him cooking and the coffee machine whirring while the town wakes up around you both outside. He tells you about the engagement and that they can call again later so you can congratulate them too. You of course, gave him a reproachful look for not waking her up to start with. You pour the coffee while he plates the toast, thick and crusted over with brown sugar and cinnamon. He sets the butter and maple syrup on the center of the kitchen table while you grab plates and silverware. The domesticity makes his heart ache, because with you, it feels like this could be your house together. With you, it feels like it’s a future where he doesn’t live with Tati and Gare, and he wakes up to you every day.  He swears he smells chlorine in the air. 

“You don’t like cream or sugar, right?” you ask, putting the mug in front of him while he sits at the table. 

“I don’t, but we have some. There’s milk and cream in the fridge door and I thiiiink some stevia packets in the cabinet with all the baking stuff. That one.” 

He points to the cabinet next to the stove and you snatch a couple like gold. He sips his cup while you prepare your coffee, giggling to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“It’s just, this outfit is not what I had in mind to be wearing in front of you after a night like that,” you laugh, “I thought maybe I’d have a sexy robe on or something and instead I just –” You take a sip from your mug, shaking your head, “I look like a teenage boy from ‘07 whose about to do a kick flip for the ladies.” 

Eddie barks a laugh into his coffee cup, “You do, you look just like that.” 

“I know,” you laugh back, “But then again, I’m in your clothes. So I guess it’s you who looks like a teenager from ‘07.” 

“I can do a kick flip,” he admits. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” you say into your next sip. 

Eddie swears he can hear the rush of water while his classmates kick on the side of the pool, his own toes on the edge of the block. 

“You know who you look like, almost exactly?” he asks, putting his mug down and meeting you at the counter. “Who?” you ask with a smile. 

“You look just like Eddie Munson’s girlfriend,” he says, hand falling on your hip. 

“Yeah?” you reply, a little taken aback, “Just like her?” 

“Spitting image,” he nods. 

“You know, before I said that thing about looking like teenage boy, I was gonna say ‘Hey, you know something? I think I look just like Eddie Munson’s girlfriend,” you beam. Your response makes his heart race, such a goofball, so like him, so easy, so right. 

He cocks his head, peering at you, “Wait, I think – wait – are you…the lead guitar player’s girl? Eddie Mnson’s girlfriend?”

You smirk, falling into the bit with him, “Oh my god yeah, that’s me – can’t get you in the show though, sold out. He’s like, a totally famous rockstar now.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” Eddie shakes his head with a winning smile, hand splaying over your waist to pull you in, “I know someone in the band.” 

A coffee flavored kiss seals the deal. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears the shrill call of Miss Tiffany’s whistle. 

He nails the dive every time.

[saistappen]

Mariquita | CS55

In which Carlos' appendectomy triggers a huge emotional chaos in you and makes you realise just how big your feelings for the Spaniard actually are

or

In which your concern for Carlos clearly shows the Spaniard that you probably feel the same way about him as he does about you

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The last few days have been pure confusion. You could clearly feel this at Ferrari.

After Carlos' appendicitis was announced, on which he had to undergo surgery, the young Briton Olli Bearman was brought in to replace Carlos and chaos began to reign in the team.

Some things had to be changed, such as the adjustment of the seat, as well as various other things up to the well-known gift in the social media.

The hustle and bustle could be clearly felt throughout the team. But the excitement was not just for the young 18-year-old Brit, but also for the Spaniard. Because most of the time, the team's thoughts were on Carlos, who should soon have the operation behind him.

" Have you finished the Instagram post yet? " Lucy asked me as she sat down at the table opposite me.

" Uhm, what? " confused, I lifted my eyes from my mobile phone, which I kept glancing at hopefully to be the first to hear the news about Carlos' condition.

But so far there was still no news, which slowly started to make me more and more nervous.

"I wonder if you've already posted on Instagram that Carlos has come through the operation okay," Lucy continued in a gentle voice and put her hand on my arm.

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in and for me to really understand what she meant.

" W-really? " I stammered, while at the same time a huge stone fell from my heart and I began to feel the tightness in my chest, which had been there since yesterday, loosen.

" But I didn't read anything in the group. How do you know that? " I was sure I hadn't read anything, because for the last ten minutes I'd been checking the Ferrari chat on my mobile phone, hoping I hadn't missed anything.

" Fred just came up to me. He was talking to Carlos Senior. Everything went well and he's now recovering in hospital. " Lucy gave me a soft smile as her thumb gently stroked my arm.

Not only was she my best friend on the team, she was also the one who knew how close Carlos and I actually were.

When I joined the team about a year ago, Carlos was the first to welcome me with open arms and show me around.

During my first day at work, the Spaniard kept coming round to ask me how things were going.

When he invited me for a meal at the end of my first shift and listened attentively to what I had to say about my first successful day at work, a friendship developed within a few weeks.

"Thank God," I whispered quietly as a relieved smile crept onto my lips.

All your fears and worries that something could have gone wrong during the operation vanished within a few seconds.

"I'll post it straight away! " I almost shouted as I reached for my mobile phone and then opened the Ferrari Instagram account that I was partly responsible for.

One of my tasks in the team was to keep the fans up to date via Instagram and Twitter. I also had a say in the C2 Challenges on YouTube, where I always created fun content for the fans.

It wasn't long before I had chosen a photo of Carlos and typed up a short text about his condition and then posted it.

"Now I can get back to work feeling better," I mumbled as I reached for your fruit salad, which had been sitting untouched on the table in front of me, and started eating.

" I believe you. It's about time my favourite colleague was finally back at work with a smile on her face. "

Yesterday almost flew by, which was probably due to the good news that had lifted my spirits so much that I was completely back in the swing of things.

Olli had done well in the third free practice session and in qualifying, as had Charles, who would start today's race from second place.

This lifted my spirits even further, so I entered Ferrari Hospitality with a smile on my face and greeted a few of my colleagues who were already having breakfast.

"Morning sunshine," Charles greeted me with an amused smile as I stood next to him at the buffet and reached for a plate.

"Morning my favourite Monegasque," I replied brightly and then reached for a croissant.

" Do I want to know why you're shining like the non-existent sun today? " Charles asked as he reached for a bowl of muesli and then continued. " Well, actually, I know what it is..."

Charles winked and then began to waggle his eyebrow dramatically, which looked rather strange.

"Are you all right? " I asked him, while I also secured a bowl of muesli and placed it on my tray.

" I'm doing great. I'm ready for the race, but that's not the issue right now. Try not to get distracted," he almost admonished me and raised his index finger in the air in warning before continuing. "Could it be that your good mood is back thanks to Carlo's successful operation? Because since this was announced, you seem to have changed. "

" It's race day..." I tried to talk my way out of it, but I couldn't, as Charles hovered his index finger over my lips to indicate that I should be quiet.

"I'm neither stupid nor daft. I know for a fact that there's something going on between you and Carlos. It's certainly none of my business, but I can see that you're good for each other and I think that's great. Don't stop doing good for each other, okay? Okay, great! See you then! "

Before I could open my mouth to give Charles an answer, the Ferrari driver had already fled, almost running, with his tray.

Shaking my head, I looked after the Monegasques for a few seconds before I ran over to one of the free tables with my tray and began to eat my breakfast in peace.

And as I sat there eating my breakfast in comfort, my thoughts kept wandering back to Charles' words.

Were Carlos and I really on good terms? And if so, was Carlos and my behaviour really so obvious that others had probably noticed?

Once again, a tightness began to spread through my chest, so I pushed the breakfast on my tray to one side in disgust and began to sigh softly.

But before I could even begin to think about Carlos and me, Lucy appeared in front of me.

Her blonde hair lay dishevelled on her face, her cheeks shimmered red and she put her hands on her hips, out of breath.

" Lucy are you okay? " I asked cautiously and all I got in reply was a squeezed " Water. "

After I handed Lucy my water, which she drank within a few seconds and then just stood there for a few more seconds, I got nervous.

I could sense that something wasn't right and the fact that Lucy just wouldn't come out with it made me even more nervous.

" Lucy... " I almost urged as you began to shift restlessly on the chair.

" Carlos is here! " she almost shouted so loudly that one or two Ferrari employees turned to us both and looked at me in confusion.

"Sorry, I meant Carlos is here," she repeated more quietly as she dropped into the chair opposite me and rested her elbows on the table.

" What? Why is he here? He just had an operation yesterday! " I looked at the person opposite me with wide eyes as I almost jumped up.

" I have no idea! I saw a story on Instagram where he's walking through the paddock. Or should I say crawling? He can barely walk, he looks absolutely pale and like he's in pain! " she continued, making strange hand movements that I couldn't interpret at all.

" What?! " I repeated again, almost stunned, while my heart began to beat faster.

Why was he here and not resting? He couldn't be serious.

I immediately began to worry so much that I jumped up and ran off without waiting for an answer from Lucy.

" Thanks for breakfast! " she called after me, but I hardly noticed because I only had one thing on my mind. Carlos.

I kept dodging various members of other teams as I ran, keeping my eyes peeled for Carlos.

It wasn't long before I found him and a few other Ferrari employees in the pits, where he was greeted warmly with hugs and a few words.

I stayed in the background and watched Carlos from a distance. And indeed, he looked anything but well.

His posture was more hunched than upright and his face was rather pale, which occasionally even showed that he must clearly be in pain.

Why the hell wasn't he lying in bed and resting?

It took a few minutes for the Spaniard to catch sight of me. Within a few seconds, his face brightened and he literally crept over to me.

"Mariquita," he greeted me with a smile on his lips and pulled me into a warm hug shortly afterwards.

I carefully wrapped my arms around him, hoping not to cause him any more pain.

" Carlos, what are you doing here? " was the first thing I said to him.

" How about a "Oh, hello Carlos. I'm glad you're doing well and that you've come through everything okay?" " he asked as he let go of me and then leant against the wall next to me.

He seemed to find it difficult to even stand up straight. He was even still wearing his hospital bracelet. It was as if he'd literally fled from the hospital and gone straight to the track.

" Are you crazy? You had appendicitis, had to have an operation and haven't even rested for a day? You can barely walk, you look incredibly shitty and you still seem to be in pain! " I spoke in an angry voice and didn't care if anyone was listening. Because apparently I was the first person to say these words to him.

And probably the only one who was thinking straight.

"I'm fine," he tried to reassure me, but he seemed to realise himself that this wasn't the case.

" No, you're not! " I looked at him seriously for a few seconds before turning on my heel and leaving.

Carlos' warm hand grabbed my arm and caused a slight electric shock to run through my body.

"I'm sorry, Mariquita. Let's talk in peace," his voice sounded soft and calm.

He carefully led me into a kind of storeroom that I had never been in before.

A few things were stored here, such as drinks and spare items for the mechanics, like a sofa that stood in the middle of the room.

Carlos slowly lowered himself onto the sofa, grimacing slightly, and then carefully pulled me next to him.

The sofa was so narrow that we sat there more or less pressed against each other and the touch of our knees and arms made my heart start beating faster again and I became slightly restless.

" You have every right to be angry with me and to worry. That's really sweet of you, but it was entirely my decision to come here. In hospital, the ceiling would have literally fallen on my head and I wanted everyone to know that I was okay."

"But you should take it easy, Carlos..." I almost mumbled and looked at the Spaniard, whose eyes were on me.

"I will, I promise," he assured me as he came a little closer to me and I felt his breath on my cheek.

Shortly afterwards, I felt his warm lips lightly on my cheek, which made the area start to tingle warmly and the heat shot up my cheek.

" I've heard from some people how worried you were about me. That was really incredibly sweet of you, Mariquita," Carlos began and gently stroked a strand of my hair behind my ear before continuing.

"We both know that there's more between us. And that's why I want to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me? " His brown eyes rested calmly on me while a soft smile formed on his lips.

His words caused chaos to awaken in my stomach, as all the butterflies that had just been lying there quietly for a long time began to awaken and turn my feelings completely upside down.

" Yes, but only if you take it easy. Otherwise you can forget the date," I replied with a partly serious and partly worried look.

It was important to me that Carlos recovered fully from the operation and regained his strength so that he would soon be fit again and able to get back into the car.

"I promise, Mariquita."

[iamasimperyk]

Mrs. Cameron

Summary: You just graduated, so Rafe took you on a vacation to celebrate it, making sure to make it unforgettable.

Warnings: Fluff, Not proof read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Reader

"You like it here?" Rafe asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"It's beautiful. Thanks for taking me with you," You smiled up at your former professor.

A few days ago you finally finished college and officially started dating Rafe. To celebrate your success, he took you on a vacation to Hawaii.

It was mesmerising there, and things couldn't be better between the two of you.

"I planned something special for tonight," he murmured into the crook of your neck.

You let out a small giggle, "Another surprise?"

"I could never get tired of surprising my beautiful angel." He told you.

"You are so cliché, you know that, Mr. Cameron?" You kissed his cheek before pulling away from him, "I have to get ready now. Can't look like this when you have some big surprise for me."

He slightly shook his head, "You look stunning, even with the towel on your head."

You let out another giggle before disappearing into the bathroom.

Rafe let out a sigh. He planned out the whole night. He wanted to show you how serious he was when it came to your relationship.

You accepted his past and loved his daughter as if she was your own. Also, you accepted his ex and became quite good friends, which was weird at first, but it was better than the two of you hating each other.

Rafe couldn't help but smile as he thought about last weekend.

"I had a nightmare. Where is daddy?" Daisy mumbled, standing in front of your shared bed.

"He is still in his office, sweetie. Do you want to sleep in here tonight? Maybe I can also protect you from the bad things you dreamed about." You suggested with a tired voice, and she just nodded before quickly getting in the bed.

Daisy cuddled up to you quickly, "Thank you for letting me stay here."

You smiled down at the little girl, not believing how things between you and Rafe turned out.

Rafe listened to the conversation between his daughter and you that night, and he finally realized that you were the one.

-----

"Can I take the blindfold off yet?" You giggled as you squeezed Rafe's hand a little bit more.

"We are almost there," he replied, but his nervousness was noticeable.

After a few more minutes, he stopped walking and let go of your hand, "Okay, you can take it off now."

There he was, kneeling in front of you, a diamond ring nestled in a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen immediately, and you put a hand over your mouth.

"Y/n Y/l/n, the first time I met you I was your professor. I remember how you came in, wearing those stupid stockings. I immediately felt drawn to you, and I hated it at first. I was your professor, and I knew that having feelings for you could cost me my job. I was also quite sure that a stunning girl like you would never fall for someone like me. However, for some unknown reason, you did notice me and chose to be with me," Rafe started his speech and had you crying after the first words, "We have had our ups and downs, but we are here now, together and happy. I know we haven't been together for ages, but I am quite sure you are my soulmate even if you are young and have your whole life ahead of you. I just hope to play a part in it for a little while longer. Y/n Y/l/n, I love you with all my heart, and nothing would make me happier than to call you my wife. Will you marry me?"

You were nodding frantically while the mascara you had just applied half an hour ago was running down your cheeks.

"Words, darling," Rafe smirked a little.

"God, yes, Rafe. A million times yes." You hiccuped, and he put the beautiful ring on your finger.

Rafe stood up, kissing you passionately before he pulled away as the two of you ran out of air, "Mrs. Cameron. I like the sound of that."

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fated

Your soulmark has formed on your arm. The little bat was a mystery to you until you moved to Hawkins and met Eddie Munson...

Too bad he has a girlfriend and wants nothing to do with this "soulmate shit"

Or so he says anyway.

Warnings: Angst, meanish Eddie, soulmates, rejection, jealous Eddie, Eddie gets his head out of his ass, fluff.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

I've left Eddie's soul mark up to interpretation. It's up to you what you want it to be.

♥️

Finding your soulmate should have been one of the best things that ever happened to you.

When the bat mark had appeared on your first day in Hawkins you were sure something had went very bad with this whole soulmate thing. Even though your family insisted that fate was never wrong.

Who the hell had a bat as a soulmate mark? It didn't make sense to you until you met Eddie and saw his tattoo.

There was a sharp pain and a burning feeling and you were aware Eddie was watching you for a response but you were trying not to show you were in pain.

Chancing a glance at your arm you find the small bat glowing brightly.

Eddie's eyes widen and he winces as if he's in pain too. When he removes his jacket his mark is now burned onto his skin.

"No, no no no. I have a girlfriend, she's called Chrissy and I can't... We can't, this whole soulmate bond mark thing is a load of shit sweetheart" his big brown eyes are full of panic.

Evn though you've only just met Eddie you feel your heart crack at his full on rejection.

You finally meet your soulmate and he has a girlfriend. Just my fucking luck you sigh and you don't know what to say to him.

The excitement of finding your soulmate fades as a pretty blonde bounds over to Eddie and introduces herself.

There's a sharp flash of pain that's radiating from your mark and you try to ignore it but it sits there all day, a dull ache that never really fades.

♥️

Despite Eddie being with Chrissy you manage to settle in Hawkins and make a few friends.

Robin and Steve are great and you get on well with Nancy who you're working with at Hawkins post. It's your first job out of high school and you want it to be a success.

Despite trying to avoid Eddie he's very much in your friend group and very much does not want anything to do with you.

You find out from Steve that after Chrissy found the soulmate mark on Eddie she left him.

Just another reason for him to hate you. He didn't want to know the person who broke up his relationship.

It wasn't very obvious to you but it was to Steve and Dustin his friend/pretty much like his little brother that Eddie despite his annoyance at the situation was intrigued by you.

Dustin caught him staring at you a few times or listening intently when you were chatting and answering questions about yourself.

He would turn away as soon as you noticed which made both Dustin and Robin roll their eyes in exasperation.

It wasn't your fault that Eddie was your soulmate and you were his, though Dustin did sympathise with Eddie for losing Chrissy, he was beginning to like you and didn't like seeing you hurt when Eddie would avoid you.

All that Eddie's coldness decided for you was that you needed to move on. It was crushing having your soulmate reject you but you had to accept it and move on.

That's when you met Josh, he was a friend of Steve's. Charming, sweet, funny. He was great.

Nancy was sitting with Jonathan and she was asking your plans for the evening as you diligently ignore the ache you feel with Eddie around. Thank god Nance offered a distraction.

"Oh, well I met this guy and we're going on our second date" you beam as Josh comes in and you head over to him, you're keen to introduce him to everyone.

♥️

Something dark and intense burns in Eddie's gut as he meets Josh. He's all perfect hair, perfect smile and is making you laugh.

That stupid mark burns so intensely that he swears under his breath and gulps his beer. He didn't like this guy one bit. Couldn't you see that Josh was a fake preppy dickhead?

Nancy asks how you met Josh and the growing envy inside him kicks up a notch at how charming Josh was being to everyone.

"I was a little hesitant at first, Josh admits but I couldn't help wanting to get to know her" Josh smiles at you and Eddie scowls.

"Hesitant about what exactly dude?" Josh throws him a dark look and there's a smug smirk on his face that pisses Eddie off even more.

"This soul mark thing but after hearing you were so adamant about it being a lot of shit I feel like I should thank you man, otherwise I would never have met this sweet lady"

Eddie grits his teeth and bites back a retort. Sensing danger Robin changes the subject but Eddie's in no mood to listen to Josh spout of a load of crap.

He's snappish and yeah he's aware he's being an ass but there's just something about this goofy idiot that Eddie doesn't like.

Eventually he makes an excuse to leave. He needed to destress and the only thing that could help him was jamming out a few tunes on his guitar.

♥️

You don't know what the hell was up with Eddie today but you were pissed off and somehow you ended up at his trailer, ready to confront him for being such an ass.

He opens the trailer door and looks suprised to see you and you push past him, eager to pour out your feelings.

"Why were so mean to Josh?" he leans back against the table and you feel a delicious ache build up inside you at how good he looked.

"What to you want from me Eddie? You don't want me. You want Chrissy! So why should I not be allowed to find someone? You acted like an asshole and for what!" you were full on ranting now but you didn't care.

Eddie watches you rant torn between wanting you to shut up and kissing you. The urge to kiss you was growing stronger and he tried to resist it.

"Princess, he's a fucking douchebag okay? He's fake as shit. Anyone can see that" you frown at his use of the word princess and can't decide if you like it or not.

Judging by the butterflies in your belly you did... Fuck. Irratated at how he affected you and the lack of chemistry between you and Josh you let out your frustrations.

"In case you forgotten Eddie you rejected me because you were with Chrissy and it's my fault she left you so whatever game you're playing cut it out"

The two of you are like magnets as he moves closer to you and his expression is soft, his big brown eyes full of tenderness.

"I've been such a dick to you and I'm sorry sweetheart. It's not your fault about the mark and I shouldn't have acted like it was" he caresses your cheek gently and it feels like your nerves are on fire.

"Don't think you can soften me up with those pretty brown eyes and that charming grin Eddie Munson" you warn him and he shrugs sheepishly.

"Pretty and charming huh? I'll take it" he winks at you and you feel yourself growing incredibly flustered, okay now was the time to leave.

"Ive been trying to avoid this for weeks but I can't sweetheart. I'm so drawn to you and I understand that you're seeing Josh but if he fucks up even once then... He's an idiot and I'll be waiting"

You leave at that point and your mind is racing, so much for moving on from Eddie, now you're more into him than ever.

♥️

Chrissy didn't expect to find Eddie at the Hideout tonight, it wasn't his night to perform with Corroded Coffin but here he was knocking back a couple of beers.

"Soulmate thing not working out for you?" she asks sympathetic and Eddie fakes a smile and at her gentle smile is coaxed into explaining all that has happened.

"Oh Eddie, can you blame her for moving on? You've acted like you want nothing to do with her and now you're all jealous because she's found someone. I hate to be mean but get your head out of your ass"

Eddie almost chokes on his beer at Chrissy's words but he knows she's right. He's been such an idiot.

''I'm a total butthead huh? I know that now"

Chrissy nods and kisses his cheek.

"Eddie, you've obviously fallen for her even if you've tried not to and you're jealous of this Josh guy so why don't you be Eddie the Brave and go and get the girl" she blushes a bit and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"Maybe I could pluck up the courage to talk to Jason. He's changed so much these last six months and he's my... He's my soulmate you know, I just know it"

Eddie nods. He needed to get his head out of his ass and just talk to you again.

Chrissy was right, as much as he tried to fight this soulmate bond, it was pretty obvious that you were his dream girl and he was being an idiot for letting you slip through his fingers.

Well no fucking more.

♥️

Josh had no showed tonight and after you managed to give him a call to check if he was okay, he casually dropped into conversation that he had met someone else (a non soul mark someone else)

It's not like you were heartbroken or anything but it still stung a little bit that in all your attempts to get over Eddie he was still at the forefront of your mind.

Frustrated you decide to get ready for bed and watch one of your favourite comfort movies. Maybe with some comfort food to go with it.

Just as your ready for a lot of much needed fluff and comfort your doorbell rings and Eddie is standing in the snow storm looking a little bedraggled but determined.

"Eddie" he comes inside and for a second he looks nervous but then he begins to speak and the nerves vanish.

"Look, I fucked up sweetheart. I know I did but I just have to say that Josh isn't right for you and I know I don't deserve a chance when I've been such an asshole but fuck him, you're mine and I'm going to fight for you every single day and show you how serious I am about being with you"

Oh wow. That you didn't expect.

"Eddie the truth is Josh met someone else and we aren't together anymore" Eddie stills and his eyes flash with fury.

"See what I mean now princess? He's an asshole" you stifle a smile. He takes your hand and looks to you with a hopeful expression on his face.

"One chance, that's all I'm asking" he pleads and you nod.

"Don't make me regret this Munson" you warn him gently and he grins.

"You won't princess, I promise you" He moves closer to you and presses a kiss to your lips.

It should have been a chaste and sweet kiss but the minutes your lips touch it's impossible to pull away. Eddie deepens the kiss and a soft moan issues from his mouth.

"Shit" he looks dazed and you giggle and kiss him again.

"That's not fair. I wasn't finished kissing you princess" he whines and tugs you back to him for another kiss.

♥️

Authors note: Can just imagine Eddie turning into a can't keep his hands off you, smitten boyfriend like super fast.

[ornii]

Hey, I've enjoyed reading your stories, so thank you for writing them.

Would you consider writing a Wednesday Addams x Male Reader story where Wednesday is the one who decides to ask Reader out?

I can't help but picture Wednesday deciding to try and emulate Gomez's way of showing affection, just with her twist. She's doing everything that Gomez would do for Morticia, for Male Reader, and he thinks she's just a really nice person?

Or I feel she just walks up to Reader and informs him they're dating now (he's also into her ofc)

Un amor profundo

Miss Addams felt a sensation that made her feel, alive? Who knew that was even possible.

Sculpting, the art of turning rock, stone, marble, into art. You although could turn the art into living pieces of work. Like God himself you breathed life into your creations, even if their life is short lived. You gently chipped away at another statue, this one of a raging Wolf howling at the moon. Weems gave you space in a short clearing you made into a sort of work area. A few tools, pieces of marble, obsidian, and onyx around. And that space just so happened to perfectly be seen from the large window in one of the girls’ dorms. Almost as if Weems did this on purpose, but it wasn’t here, it was Wednesday.

She was staring hard out the window at You. This wasn’t like her to be so interested in the activities of another person. Unless they’re a serial killer of course. The jingle of the door went though the room and it opened, and Enid Peeked in. Wednesday quickly turned around, having a fantastic Poker face. “Enid, what are you doing here?” She asked, and Enid raised an eyebrow. “Uh.. I live here?” She responded confused.

“Right.. how unfortunate.” Wednesday grumbled. Enid walked to her side. “Are.. you okay? You seem, stuck.” Enid asks. “I’m fine.” Wednesday responded, but it wasn’t unlike her. Enid, lacking more of rational sense but definitely a social butterfly, picks up on the awkwardness. She took the initiative and walked closer to Wednesday and looked at the window. All she saw was you chipping away at the wolfs’ paws.

“Oh, it’s the new guy… why are you looking at him like that?” Enid said, as Wednesday jerks her eyes that were glued to you away.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean.” Wednesday lies, and Enid gasps.

“Oh.. M.. G.. Wednesday?” Enid smiles

“Don’t say it..” Wednesday’s brow furrowed.

“Are you…”

“Enid, I am warning you..”

“In LOVE?!”

“Wednesdays clenched her jaw but had no response, Enid was actually dumbfounded. “This is… I’m actually in disbelief.. how long? Do you think he’s cute? Did you ask him yet?” Enid pestered her with questions that Wednesday wasn’t emotionally prepared to answer. Her silence though spoke enough, and Enid came to a halt. “You never spoke to him, have you?” She already knew the answer by Wednesday’s silence. Enid puts her hands on her hips in a very serious manner.

“Alright, let’s fix that!”

You finally finished the Wolf of Wall Street. A wolf standing over the crushed New York in rubble and concrete. As you knelt down and gently whispered into its ear. It howled to the sun, and then went back to a stone statue. Seems another successful work. You heard the approaching of footsteps and you turned around to face it, and darkness stood before you, but it’s never looked so pretty.

Wednesday, like a brewing storm stood there waiting for you to respond, as if she has something to say. You’ve seen her around Class and.. always felt like someone was watching you. Maybe it was here, you stood up and slightly towered over her.

“Hello?” You asked, and offered a handshake. “I’m—“ you started by Wednesday took a scary leap, she took your hand and you looked into her piercing eyes.

“(Y/n) (L/n) I know, I’ve been watching you, waiting for this moment to build the courage and willpower to Admit that you crept your way into the deepest depths of my mind and have made my black heart skip a beat. You single-handedly made me realize that I am capable of, loving someone. Therefore I.. humbly request if I could.. call you my Querida, my Darling..”. You stared at her eyes, actually bewildered by the passionate but absolutely wild love confession. Enid, Watching from the corner was having an out of body experience, as she told Wednesday just to ask for your number.

You felt her hand shake, a slight quiver in her lip, she was.. afraid. Wednesday from what you knew wasn’t afraid of anything, serial killers, Hydes, The Gates.. but asking a boy out made her so, terrified. Because you could do the one thing none of them could, make her feel, vulnerable. You smiled, seeing the actual worry in her eye, and you gently took her hand with your other. And spoke, “Por supuesto mi amor.” (Of Course, My Love.) you replied, her eyes bat for a moment and her black heart skipped a beat. Wednesday looked down. Unsure of what to do now.

“I.. didn’t expect to get this far.” She admits, you hide your laugh and side step. “You.. wanna see my stone wolf?” You asked, she looked up to face you once more, and the smallest smile was on her face.

“I.. wouldn’t hate that..” she said, and that was more than enough for you.

[ghostlychief]

So I read your simon riley “ghost” scary dog privileges, but may I present to you……the idea of simon being the most terrifying in combat but when he goes home it’s his wife you should fear more. Looking all sweet and innocent like she could never hurt a fly because she’s so tiny, and then they see the rbf and someone flips the bitch switch. Can be whatever scenario 👀 I just thought it would be funny because that’s exactly how it is with a friend of mine and his girlfriend 😂

HELLO! This is such a funny concept to me, so it was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and thank you for your request!! <3

-Lee

masterlist

--

Counterpart

Oneshot; Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

wc: 932

warnings: none

--

The irony’s in life are assuming.

Because whatever force, god, or being, thought it would be funny for Simon Riley, aka “ghost,” aka one of the “scariest members of task force 141”, to finally meet his match, and fall in love with said match, were having too much fun with the precarities of his life.  

Ghost certainly has a reputation at the base, and in his world. His peers respect him, his enemies fear him (let’s be honest, his peers also fear him). He was an accomplished lieutenant, with many awards for all the brave, but terrifying work he accomplishes frequently. He earned his reputation. For the longest time, task force 141 was the most afraid of Ghost, that was, until they met you.

Everyone knows the saying that you never really find love, it finds you. For Ghost, love didn’t really find him, it more so smacked him upside the head.

You were completely removed from his world, something he was grateful for. You had a simple 9-5 job, with regular amounts of stress, but you were never in danger or putting your life on the line, something that eased Ghost’s mind when you guys first started dating. The contrast in your realities is what actually brought you closer together, finding solace within each other’s worlds that the other could not ever think to visit.

You offered him normalcy and calmness, something he only ever dreamed of obtaining. He offered you excitement and a sense of security. You always picked his brain about the technicalities of his job, always fascinated by the missions he goes on, and impressed with his combat abilities.

Besides your jobs being contrasts from one another, your personalities were also different. He was quiet, sure, and patient. You were more strong headed, impulsive, bursting with energy and assertiveness that left people intimidated of you. You guess that’s one thing you and Ghost had in common: intimidation.

You didn’t let anything slide, nor take shit from anyone, something that helped gain success throughout your academic years and the early days of your professional career.

You and Ghost made quite the pair.

When task force 141 found out Ghost had a girlfriend, they didn’t really know what to expect of you. They figured you must have had some thick skin to be able to date Ghost. However, they would never know, nor see the gentle side that Ghost practiced towards you. He was a giving, and gentle lover. Something you know is solely because of the devastating world he is subject to through his job. He wanted peace outside of work, and he provided you with a sense of that, and you did too.

The first time you met task force 141, they were shocked to find out that you were completely opposite of Ghost, both in personality and in physical features. He towered over you at his whomping height of 6’4, you barley reached his shoulders. While he held a gaze of indifference, yours was stern, eyebrows naturally furrowed, and a permanent scowl was left on your lips, until you smiled or started talking.

To put it simply, they felt a little uneasy at first, and it solidified when you opened your mouth.

“What? Are you all just going to stand there and gawk at me, or introduce yourselves?” With your hands on your hips, and a slight tilt to your head you managed to intimidate the squad 141, even though you were the least threatening person in the room, physically. Ghost snickered next to you as he watched his teammates take the blow of your statement, your presence filled up the room. Their wide-open mouths shut instantly, and they all lined up to introduce themselves. You found it hard to hide your smirk.

After your first meet and greet with the team, you found yourself spending more time with them, with Ghost of course. You would occasionally meet them at a bar for a round of drinks, or go out to dinner. Though they got more comfortable around you, you never failed to surprise them with your demeanor. Always demanding, that people respect you, specifically men.

One night you all were at the bar, celebrating the end of the week. You got a phone call from a colleague, something you didn’t appreciate on a Friday night. However, you knew it had something to do with your client, and it wasn’t your teammates fault for having to call you this late.

You took the call regardless, and the team hushed when they heard your conversation. “I don’t care what the client said. They gave us a deadline for next week, and the fact that they’re requesting the report today, a Friday night, is laughable. Tell them either accept the fact that the report will be delivered to them next week, or tell them to find someone else to do all their work for them.”

You abruptly ended the call with a sigh, and you noticed the silence around the table. The men tried to act like they were just all sipping their drinks with no thought, but you knew they were listening to your call.

“This client always tries to push up deadlines, even though in our contracts, we state the official deadline. Official, as in, cannot be changed. They’re just a bunch of idiots who think they can push me and my team around because I’m a woman leading this project.”

With a shrug, you say, “I have to stand up for myself and my team.”

Task force 141 wasn’t going to argue with that one.

--

hope you enjoyed! <3

[stellar-solar-flare]

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | S.R.

Chapter 1: So Much For Prince Charming?

Explicit - 18+ only - Steve Rogers/Doctor!Reader

Your friend set you up with a perfect guy. Unfortunately, when it's time for you to meet 'Grant' for the first time, he has stood you up. On Valentine's Day of all days.

Was it too good to be true? Or does he instead have a very, very good reason why he's late, and a desire to make it all up to you?

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

Fluff, hurt/comfort, meet-cute, misunderstandings, eventual smut, healthy communication. | Background Sam Wilson/OFC.

Chapter Word Count: 3364 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her, late twenties (a few years younger than Steve in this fic). Training to be a trauma surgeon (has completed med school, in residency stage). Likes books and houseplants. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

A/N: I wanted to write a Valentine's Day oneshot, and then it turned out it has parts. Oh no. Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little trope collection! As always, thank you for reading, and hearing what you think means a lot to me.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption. The Avengers are living together in the Compound - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: So Much For Prince Charming?

Of course Grant — if that was his name — had been too good to be true. Of course he had.

You were never agreeing to a blind date again, no matter the persistence of the person suggesting it. True, Nurse Brooke was a force of nature when she had her mind set on something, but you still weren’t sure what had gotten into you. She’d struck at just the right moment, as you’d been sitting in the dressing room exhausted and elated after long hours in the OR, operating on a patient under the watchful eye of your attending surgeon. You’d been feeling great about your success, feeling like you’d actually be a real doctor one of these days, and that was when Brooke had begun to talk about the friend of the guy she was seeing.

True, it had been the beginning of February, with everyone talking about their Valentine’s Day plans; perhaps all that gooey pink syrup in the air had somehow made its way through your ear drums and into your brain. Even as you very well knew it didn’t work that way, the idea seemed comforting. At least more comforting than the reality that due to your own actions, you were now sitting here, in a fancy restaurant, in a pretty red dress, alone. Subject to looks that had been turning more and more sickeningly sympathetic as ten minutes had turned into twenty, then half an hour, and then finally an hour.

You weren’t even certain why you’d waited so long. Perhaps you’d wanted to believe that somehow this would take a turn for the better. That you hadn’t really gotten stood up. On Valentine’s Day of all days.

“Miss, I am very sorry,” your waitress came up to your table. “But as it unfortunately seems that the people the reservation was made for won’t be arriving; I’m going to have to ask you to give up the table.”

You nodded. Of course; some happy couple was waiting by the hostess’ stand. As angry and humiliated as you were feeling, the last people to blame were the wait staff — gods knew they dealt with enough on a day like this, without you lashing out at them for things that were not their fault at all. Your time here had already included bearing witness to no less than three proposals, some of which had certainly involved the wait staff slipping rings into desserts or glasses of champagne.

“Of course,” you said, digging out cash to pay for the two drinks and the appetizer you’d had while waiting for ‘Grant’, and leaving a nice tip on top of that.

You eyed the bar side of the restaurant as you did. You’d gone through the trouble of getting dolled up and coming here; you’d arranged this night and tomorrow to be free of work, which wasn’t an easy feat to do in the ER. You might as well enjoy some more substantial food at the bar, and maybe a drink or two, before going home and eating a nice tub of ice cream and envisioning dying alone surrounded by houseplants.

Well. Look on the bright side. You were never dating again after this disaster — you might as well get married to your job. And once you were done with your residency and fellowship, you’d at least have a nice pile of money to leave for your plant babies. That was something.

You took a quick trip to the ladies’ room to ensure you weren’t looking as miserable as you felt, and then hoisted yourself onto a bar chair, asking for the menu from the bartender even before you finished sitting down. She slid it across the glossy wooden surface for you, and you dug in your purse for your phone for the millionth time since you’d arrived.

Not one message from Grant. Of course. Why would there have been, after all this time had already passed? Brooke hadn’t messaged either; you hadn’t really expected that she would have, but still. As much as you didn’t wish that her own plans had been wrecked, it would’ve made sense if Samuel, the guy she was seeing, had had to take Grant to the hospital, or something. You thought about texting her, but rejected the idea so as to not bother her. If it had been anyone but the always cheerful, kind Brooke, you would’ve suspected you were being played for some joke; she’d been the one to suggest it. Oh, you know, Samuel has this friend who’s a great guy, a few years older than you. I think you two would hit it off. A great guy. For sure. You needed to ask Brooke if she was sure about her life choices, if her Samuel spent a lot of time around a guy who thought that standing you up like this was all fine and dandy.

The top message chain on your phone was still you and Mr. No-Show, and to add insult to injury, the last message there was you sending a mirror selfie of your outfit for the night, so that he could recognize you at the restaurant. You’d been talking for a few days, and you’d really thought you had been hitting off just like Brooke had predicted, but you didn’t know what Grant looked like. And he hadn’t asked for a picture of you, either — any sort of picture, which at the time, you’d thought of as a relief considering some of your experiences with online dating. In hindsight, that might have been a red flag, but the pink goo that had overtaken your brain had probably made you look at it through rose-colored glasses: this is a guy who wants to get to know me, who isn’t just after looks.

But apparently you’d been wrong. Or even worse, he hadn’t been just a skirt-chaser, but the sight of you in a red swing dress, with your makeup and hair done, had somehow turned him off from meeting you. That he’d changed his mind, even after the texts had been constantly flying back and forth between you, as you’d found every moment in your hectic schedule to reply to him. He’d asked you about your favorite books and you’d rattled off a long list of them; you’d asked him about his hobbies — art, reading, and exercising; he’d told you that he liked dogs and would like to have one one day when he had the time, and you’d responded with pictures of your plants. He hadn’t minded that residency was a wild, sometimes exhausting ride that took long hours of your time — in fact, he’d seemed quite interested in the fact that you’d chosen a career where you could help people, and gone after something so challenging.

He’d been straightforward but polite about the fact that he wasn’t just looking for a casual thing, that he considered himself pretty old-fashioned in that sense. He’d said he was somewhat new to dating but he didn’t want to date — he wanted to find the one for a committed relationship, to eventually get married. He’d told you about volunteering at a nursing home; he’d sent you pictures of the meals he’d cooked, placed on some pretty fancy stone countertop.

And he had actually asked you out to a real dinner once you’d been constantly talking for two days, not texted you at 2 AM asking if he could come over. After you had said that you would be delighted, he’d found the restaurant and booked a table, taking the initiative and the mental labor. He had offered to pick you up — very old-fashioned of him, indeed — and hadn’t made any sort of fuss when you’d politely declined his offer, telling him you weren’t comfortable with that before you’d met him face to face. His last message had arrived over six hours ago, five hours before the time you had been supposed to meet at the restaurant.

I'm really looking forward to meeting you tonight. What’s your favorite flower?

Roses are a classic, you’d told him. In your silliness, you had believed that he would not only show up but show up with flowers, that this guy who had talked about making some of his favorite recipes to you, who had argued with you for over twenty minutes of constant texting on the topic of the best horror movie ever made, who liked to wake up early so he could run in the sunrise and hear the birdsong, was actually real. Of course he hadn’t been, at least not to you. He’d asked all the things about you just to kill time — if he was real to begin with, someone like him was probably drowning in ladies, especially in a place like NYC. He’d just come across a better opportunity.

It stung. It really, really stung, after you’d gotten your hopes up so high. So much for Prince Charming. He’d been a frog like all the rest of them. No, there was nothing wrong with frogs; it was silly to compare a bad person to them. So much for a fairytale — instead you’d gotten a disaster.

In the dining room, another round of applause broke out — the fourth proposal of the night. You clapped along out of politeness, keeping your stinging eyes on your phone. Just because you were miserable, didn’t mean others needed to be.

Half an hour later, you had a nice plate of fish & chips and a nice glass of crisp white wine in front of you; both were doing wonders for your downtrodden spirits. Still, you didn’t dare to look at the dining room, where all the happy couples were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes and sharing desserts. No point in twisting the knife.

You had exited the messaging app and were browsing around news sites to take your mind off everything. The stock market had gone up and down and sideways and wherever the stock market went; the Avengers Initiative had stopped a potential alien invasion in Antarctica; one of your favorite authors had announced a new book which you pre-ordered immediately; a man was convinced that the alien invasion had been foretold to him on a piece of toast he’d eaten last week; the court proceedings for a high-profile case had begun and were garnering quite the attention from the media; famous people had been doing all sorts of things that someone had deemed significant enough to be news.

Another day in the world. If you hadn’t already had those two drinks, you might have considered going back to the hospital and offering to let some poor soul out of their shift, but now you would have to find something else to do with your evening. You’d spent so much time this week telling Grant about all your favorite things and hobbies that right now, all of them seemed to leave a sour taste in your mouth when you thought about them.

You were just contemplating checking out what movies were running in the theater that was nearest to your home, when you heard a low male voice from behind you, calling your name in deep relief.

Grant. A sardonic part of you remarked that he at least existed. Even before you turned around, he continued speaking:

“Oh thank god, you’re still here, I am so sorry —“

He had arrived; not one message in almost two hours, and he had the audacity to just roll in like that. A part of you knew very well that all sorts of emergencies could happen — hell, the results of those emergencies were what you spent all day every day sorting out. Another part of you, the one that had been sitting here alone waiting, considered dumping your drink on his head and leaving without a word.

You curbed the drink-dumping instinct and spun around in your chair, speaking even before you’d completely turned around:

“You better have one hell of an explanation because you are almost two hours late without as much as a message to let —“

Then you got a look at him: a real look that killed the small voice in your head that asked if he was here now because his Plan A had not been successful. As you took him in, you realized that he might very well actually have the hell of an explanation that it would take for you to let him off the hook after this.

The tall, blond man standing in front of you was still wearing a dark blue, padded superhero suit that had all sorts of grime on it and a tear that looked an awful lot like claw marks on the left side of his chest. The shield that everyone recognized was strapped to his back.

“How’s being stuck closing a portal to another dimension so that nothing invades the planet through it?” he said, smiling just slightly, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Distantly, you realized that the sweet murmur of muted conversation had quieted down from around you, and even the sound of cutlery had ceased. It was eerily silent. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that a guy who had been about to get on one knee had stopped half-way and was now swaying in an awkward position. The presence of any of the Avengers in the city wasn’t that unheard of, but the fact that one of them had just barged in like this, clearly coming straight from battling whatever fresh hell this day had thrown at him, was making people gawk.

At him. And by extension, at you, who had been observed enough over the time you’d been here, whispered compassionately about. That poor lady, getting stood up on Valentine’s Day. It turned out you hadn’t gotten stood up after all, and a tiny, tiny part of you was glad that the people who hadn’t been compassionate but had looked at you with that Oh thank god that’s not me, at least I’ve got someone obvious on their faces, were witnessing this now. Such vindictiveness was poison, so you let go of the idea after only a little gloating.

“Grant, huh?” you finally said, a smile tugging your mouth up.

“Among other things,” he smirked.

Grant. As in Steven Grant Rogers. As in Captain Steve Rogers, the Head Strategist of the Avengers Initiative that had kept up the good fight when SHIELD had fallen to corruption.

As in Captain America.

The way people were staring right now, you understood why he hadn’t disclosed his identity before this. Brooke had made some sly comment about how he had a public job so he was quite a private person.

“So, Nurse Brooke’s Samuel…” you said, wanting to thwap yourself on the forehead for not realizing.

“Sergeant Sam Wilson aka the Falcon,” Steve grinned, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, their plans went awry too. I would’ve messaged you but we had to leave really quickly, and I hadn’t saved your number to the cloud, only on my private phone. Which is back at the AI Campus on my kitchen countertop. So forgive me for letting you think I just blew you off.”

Strictly speaking, he probably could’ve asked Sam to text Brooke for your number, but on the other hand, with a literal alien invasion about to happen unless they stopped it, they had had other priorities. You understood. Steve had probably dropped straight out of the Quinjet onto the street to be here looking like that. You wondered what he’d told Sam and the others.

“It’s alright,” you murmured. “I know how it is sometimes.”

You didn’t, not for certain, but you had an inkling that trauma surgery was probably pretty close when it came to all kinds of things suddenly being thrown at you, pushing aside everything else and rearranging your priorities. No matter how much you had wanted to do the previous things you’d thought of.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he said softly, looking at you. “So let me make it up to you?”

“I had to give up the table,” you said just as softly. “It's a busy night.”

His forehead creased in thought, and you could tell that he was devising a new strategy. His entrance had lacked any subtlety — here, people would just stare at the two of you like you were zoo animals, and even as you suspected that he would’ve stayed if you had asked him, you didn’t want that to be your first date.

Your first date with Captain America, a panicked voice piped up in the back of your head, and you squashed it down. He was just Steve. Steve had been the guy with whom you’d been constantly texting, not the superhero in a very, very impressive stealth mission suit in front of you. He was both, but to his date, he would want to be first and foremost Steve. Getting to know you, and letting you get to know him, before letting you in on his star-spangled secret had told you that much.

“The night is young, Steve,” you smiled at him, making a point to use his name and not the Captain that some different voice in your head wanted to softly roll off your tongue at the sight of him. “Let me just get my food packed to go and we’ll figure out what to do?”

The way the smile overtook his face at that made your heart do a flip in your chest.

“That sounds like a plan to me.”

You barely managed to muster the brain function required to turn around in your chair and ask the bar staff to get your food sorted out.

As you did, Steve stepped closer, stopping to stand next to your chair. If he hadn’t been covered in gods-knew-what, and if you hadn’t had quite an audience, he probably would’ve hugged you for a hello. Now, he instead just very, very gently brushed your bare upper arm with his thumb, sending electric shock down your arm. His hair was a mess, falling onto his forehead, but he was smiling like the sun itself.

“Thank you. For giving me another chance,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear. “You look beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to grab the flowers. I’ll make that up to you too.”

“All the flower shops in Antarctica were probably closed at this hour, yeah,” you smiled at him over your wine glass, and he chuckled at your joke. “I appreciate the thought. It’s alright.”

He grinned. He was standing very close, and he smelled good. There was a hint of cedar-like aftershave and something like fresh air, as if the cold climate of Antarctica had gotten stuck on him, but underneath that there was a musky smell of him, one that made heat pool on the bottom of your stomach.

“How’d you feel if I took you to the compound and cooked something nice for us?” he asked. “If you are comfortable with that, of course. I’d take you out but I don’t think we can find a table tonight and I’m not exactly in a state to utilize one of the VIP rooms we might be able to get to. I’ll drive you back home at night, of course.”

He added the final sentence a little sheepishly, clearly not wanting you to think that he was inviting you over just so you could spend the night with him. You appreciated his thoughtfulness; it might be something he himself wasn’t comfortable with. But on the other hand, if he was comfortable, and if that was where this night would eventually lead… Then you had no objections.

And you certainly, certainly had no objection to enjoying a delicious meal with him that he had cooked himself. You took a long, centering gulp of your wine before you were able to answer.

“That sounds really nice, Steve.”

He met your gaze with a gentle, happy warmth in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, this night might yet turn into the fairytale you’d been hoping for.

“Then let me call us a car.”

Next chapter >>

[tonyspank]

TILL DEATH DO US PART

Summary: You keep coincidentally running into your ex-girlfriend, in the worst possible situations.

A/N: This reminds me of Heart. Like this one-shot is if Heart had a twin lowkey.

Warnings: death, stabbings, frankie, tara being a meanie at one point

Tara Carpenter x Reader

The first time you ran into Tara it was a complete coincidence. You were on the clock, and received a complaint about a leaking sink. Sam was actually the one who had made the complaint. She was standing in her kitchen, and pointed to the sink in frustration. She already knew how to fix it, and just needed a plumber to do the job. You had a look, and saw that the problem was a simple one. You took out your tools and went to work.

It didn't take very long. You gently removed the old drain seal with a pair of pliers. You applied the new adhesive around the bare drain, and finally replaced the seal, making sure to apply it centered around the drain.

You tested the seal to make sure it was properly seated. You then cleaned up the area, disposing of the old seal and any other debris. You were finished with the project. Sam, who had been standing there the entire time, arms crossed mumbled a thank you. You nodded in acknowledgement and turned to leave.

 But once you stepped foot out of the kitchen you were met with a loud gasp. "Oh my god! You're Y/N Y/L/N!" The person who had exclaimed was standing in the doorway, eyes wide. You'd be happy to be recognized in any other scenario, but you just repaired a leaking sink. Now you were getting noticed by Chad Meeks, your school's Quarterback for your football team.

Chad had noticed you because Blackmore University basketball team has you on it's roster. You have been rewarded with a full-ride scholarship. You've worked hard to reach this point and are grateful for the opportunity. You want to make the most of your time there and hope to lead the team to success. You are determined to make your family and coaches proud.

You average a shit ton of points, and have been on ESPN multiple times. You're glad to represent your school. Everyone is counting on you to lead your team to victory.

Mindy, who you knew from Tara (she didn't know you, though) rolled her eyes at her brother's reaction. Chad seemed at a loss for words, so you spoke up, "Hey, Chad right? Nice to meet you." He smiled, "YOU KNOW MY NAME?" Mindy groaned and walked away, shaking her head.

Then your eyes turn to the newcomer, likely confused by all the commotion.

That newcomer was Tara. She looked better than ever, God. How could you let her get away? You could feel your heart racing and your palms sweating. You wanted to approach her and say something, anything, but you knew it wasn't the right time or situation to do so.

 You met Tara at orientation, and immediately found yourself attracted to her. She was new at Blackmore, while you had a year to get settled down. You introduced yourself to the dark-haired woman, showing her the ropes around the school. You two started talking more and more as the days went on, and you found yourself quickly growing closer to her. Eventually, you asked her out on a date and she said yes. You were excited to start this new relationship and get to know Tara better.

Tara had opened up to you, telling you about everything that happened in Woodsboro. You had grown to love her and wanted to be there for her. You could tell that she had been through a lot, and you were determined to make sure she knew that she was safe with you.

She had also told you about Sam, and how protective Sam was about her. And also how she had basically followed her to New York. She admitted that she wanted to keep your relationship private, and that it was better to keep her friends and Sam away from all this. She was scared that if they knew it would affect your relationship with them in a negative way. She wanted to keep living her own life, free and happy.

You hesitantly agreed. You knew it was the right thing to do, even though it felt wrong. You wanted what was best for her, so you decided to keep your relationship a secret, even though it was hard to do.

No one knew who you were to Tara. Not Chad, not Mindy, not Sam, no one. It was like you didn't exist in her public life. But that was ok. Tara deserved her privacy and you wanted to respect that. And you knew that when the time was right, you would be able to tell the world who you were to her. That was enough for now.

Whenever Tara wanted to hang out, it would be at your apartment. You'd have dates out of town just to make sure anyone didn't spot her, and you barley talked on campus. A part of you felt like a dirty secret while the other part felt special. It was a secret that only you two shared, and it made you feel special to be chosen by her. You felt like you had something no one else did.

You turn back to Sam, who was watching you, with that blank face she always wore. "Um, I'm finished." Sam opens her mouth but is cut off by Tara. "You fixed the leak?" You nod. "Wait, you're a handyman as well?" Chad asks. You shrug, embarrassed. "Just part-time." You mumble, looking away. Sam clears her throat. "How much?"

"I don't wanna charge you. It was simple," you say. Sam shakes her head, "No, no. We wouldn't accept that." She pulls out her wallet and hands you a few bills. "Here. It's the least we can do." You smile gratefully and thank her before packing up your tools and leaving, but not before sparing a glace at Tara.

 The second time you ran into Tara was also a coincidence. It had been a few days since you fixed the leaking sink. You were sitting outside, watching people enter the frat house with crazy costumes on. You couldn't help but smile as you watched them. People just chose the silliest things for Halloween, huh? You noticed a few people wearing masks, although they didn't seem to match their costumes. You thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. After all, it was Halloween - anything goes!

"Dude, what the hell is your costume?" You hear your best friend, Junipter say from behind you. You turn your head, now showcasing your own costume, and say "I'm a pirate! Duh!" Junipter stares at you, a look on his face. "Was this on purpose?" You furrow your eyebrows at his lack of context. Junipter says, "I mean, she's a pirate as well." You think for a second and realize that he is referring to Tara. She did tell you she was planning on being a pirate for Halloween, but it completely slipped your mind.

 "Fuck." You mumble, you hope she wasn't going to take it the wrong way. You take a deep breath and try to explain the situation to Junipter. He looks back at you skeptically, but eventually he nods in understanding. "Let's just go inside."

You enter the house and you're immediately met with flashing lights and a bunch of drunk college students. You sigh and make your way through the crowd, eventually finding the kitchen. You spot an open bottle of vodka on the counter and quickly grab it. "Wait, Y/N! I think Zoe is here." Junipter says, his eyes attached to his phone. You nod and take a swig of the vodka. Zoe liked you, and you knew it. She liked you before you and Tara were together, but never offically gave her a chance.

 And when you and Tara started dating, you had shut Zoe out. You hadn't seen her in months, and now she was here. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous, wondering if she still liked you, would you even want to give her a chance?

 No. Probably not, especially since you're not even over Tara. It was a bad idea.

 "You should try and talk to her," You say to Junipter. He sends you a confused look, "She'll probably give your ugly ass a chance." You joke, Junipter laughs nervously, not sure if he should take your advice. He takes a deep breath and decides to give it a try. "Okay-- uhh, I'm gonna go find her." He walks off, heart pounding, and finds her in the corner of the room. He swallows hard and takes a deep breath before introducing himself. She smiles warmly and they start talking. You watch the situation with a smile on your face, and you're glad you encouraged him to take the leap.

 Your heart drops when two people block your view. It's Frankie and Tara. In an instant, you leave the bottle of vodka, and you make your way to the other side of the room, neither of them noticing you were there. You take a deep breath and wait to see what happens next.

You can barely hear their conversation due to the distance and the music that is playing. But you can see their facial expressions, and you can also read Tara like a book. She was hesitant, and you can tell she is slightly uncomfortable with the situation. She fights off her discomfort and gives a smile, trying to make the best out of the situation, following Frankie with a wobble.

It's clear she's drunk, so where the hell did this guy think he was taking her?

Tara decided to go along with it, to see where the night was taking her. As they walked together, she could feel her heart racing and her thoughts spinning. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. Mindy and Anika see the pair walking past them. You leave the kitchen following them but not too close for anyone to notice.

 Tara felt a tingle of excitement—and a hint of fear—as she followed. As Anika halts the two, you stand back and watch. Frankie tries to introduce himself to Anika, but she's not up for it, shutting him down. Tara doesn't help the situation though, reassuring her friend that she's okay which only makes Frankie smirk, happily.

 You quickly continue following the two. Mindy watches you move at the speed of light as you walk past her on the couch. You keep a close eye on the two, ready to step in if things get out of hand. Anika walks off in another direction.

The two only make it up one step before you interfere. "Frankie!" He turns around, confused. Tara's heart drops at the sound of your voice. You take a deep breath to compose yourself before speaking. "Why don't we just keep the party downstairs?"

Tara looks at Frankie, while Frankie laughs at your words. "I'm good."

You clench your jaw, looking at Tara who's already staring at you. "C'mon T, let's get you home." She takes one look at Frankie again before walking down the steps, placing her hands on your cheeks.

Wow, she was really drunk.

"Y/N, 'M good, okay?" She stumbled and almost fell. You quickly grabbed her arm to steady her. She looked up at me with a dazed expression and said again, "I'm good." She repeats, "You're not, let's go home."

She let's go of your face, before she could mumble more words to you Frankie grabs her arm. "She said she's good!" He yells, pulling her up the stairs. Tara winces, muttering an "Ow." You grab Frankie by his shirt, turning around and shoving him away from Tara. Chad and Anika are now here, and Chad watches the scene confused and unsure what to do. "Don't fucking touch her." A crowd crowds around you, cameras out.

Frankie shoves you back, His eyes full of rage. You step forward, determined not to back down. Tara takes this chance to escape, walking to Chad and Anika follow her, leaving you and Frankie staring each other down. You stand your ground, unblinking, and Frankie finally looks away. He takes a few steps back and turns, striding away without a word. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the situation didn't escalate any further.

 Some people from the crowd groan at the fact they didn't get to witness a fight, walking away and joining the party again.

You take a moment to collect yourself before turning to Chad, Tara, Anika, and now Mindy and Junipter. They look relieved, but you can still see the slight fear in their eyes.

 "Are you okay?" Junipter asks, breaking the silence. You nod, "Yeah, that guys a dick though." Tara walks away from the group, and you furrow your eyebrows quickly following her, leaving everyone confused.

 Tara is now marching her tiny legs on the path's of Blackmore University, in the direction of her apartment. "Tara!" You shout after her, "Can you stop? Please!" Tara stops and looks back. She takes a few steps towards you, an annoyed look on her face. "You embarrassed me." "I'm sorry." You admit, looking at the ground. "I didn't mean to, it's just that I worried about you." Tara stares at you for a few seconds, causing you to scoff. "He was going to take advantage of you."

"So!" She shouts, "So?" You repeat confused. "If I wanna hook up with an asshole that's my decision." You shake your head, glancing at Tara's friends and Junipter behind you. "It's not about you! I mean, Jesus! We broke up, move on! Cause I know I'm trying." You clench your jaw, "Tara." She stares at you, her eyes blazing. "Yes, it's your decision but that doesn't mean it's a good one."

She crosses her arms, her voice shaking. "It's my life, I'll do what I want!" You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "That's not the point," you say firmly. "You deserve better. You deserve respect, and that's what that decision was depriving you of."

Tara runs her hands down her face, upset. "Just-" She sighs, "Just stay out of my life, please?" You take a few steps back and look away. You're not going to make her do anything she doesn't want to, and if that means respecting her decision, then so be it. You stay silent as Tara turns and walks away.

You watch Tara disappear into the night, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and relief. You know that you have to respect her wishes, but it still hurts to see her go. You take a deep breath. Chad speaks up from the group, "You and Tara dated?!" You nod. The group falls silent, not knowing what to say. You turn away, hoping to hide the tears that had begun to form in your eyes.

Tara's friends say their goodbyes to you and began following their friend. You watch as they get farther and farther away, until they are finally out of sight. You take a few moments to compose yourself before turning back towards Junipter, who gives you a sad smile. You take a deep breath and try to put on a brave face, unwilling to show the pain and sadness you are feeling.

Junipter puts an arm around you and pulls you close. You rest your head on his shoulder and take solace in his presence. Together, you begin the walk back to your own home.

The third time you run into Tara was another coincidence. Quinn—who's in your math class asked you for help with your upcoming test, and you agreed to help. You requested to meet at the library because you were not interested in seeing nor talking to Tara again after your argument/disagreement. Quinn insisted to meet at her apartment, and you hesitantly agreed. When you arrived at the apartment, you were surprised to see Tara was not there.

Quinn was confused but she reassured you that Tara had left the apartment for the evening, you relaxed and settled down into your study session. You and Quinn had a productive evening of studying. You both discussed the upcoming exam and the best strategies for studying. Quinn offered to help review some of the material with you. After a few hours, you both said goodbye and left.

Later on in the day you realized that you left your laptop in Quinn's room, you had tried calling her to confirm that it was indeed in her room, but her phone was sent straight to voicemail. You decided the best course of action was to go to the Bailey-Carpenter apartment to check if your laptop was still there.

 You arrived at the apartment and just before you could knock on the door, you hear screaming.

You quickly step back and try to assess the situation. Suddenly the door flies open and Chad and Tara sprint out, nearly tackling you to the ground. "Y/N?" Tara says, scared and confused.

Though you don't hear her, you're in shock at seeing Ghostface tower over Mindy. You also see a dead Quinn, and a scared Sam and Anika. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to think of a plan. Your fight or flight response activates and you react immediately. Taking off your bookbag you throw it at Ghostface. He looks at you for a slight second before returning his attention to Mindy.

 Chad grabs Tara's arm, running down the steps with her. Anika grabs Ghostface's legs in an attempt to help her girlfriend. Sam gets up, running to the kitchen in search of a weapon while you run into the apartment. Ghostface quickly wraps an arm around Anika's throat, pinning her to the ground.

 You throw your body at the masked killer, pushing them away from Anika. Sam returns unsuccessful with finding a knife, instead she grabbed the knife holder, throwing it at his head. Anika grabs Mindy, bringing her into Anika's room, Sam following close behind the two.

Ghostface stands up, slamming the front door. "C'mon, bitch." You mumble, standing your ground. You take a deep breath and prepare for a fight. The killer charges at you, knife in hand. You dodge the attack and grab a nearby lamp, swinging it towards the killer in an attempt to knock them out. As the killer stumbles back, you make a break for it, running into Quinn's bedroom and closing the door behind you.

You and Sam press against the door as Ghostface bangs on it. Yours eyes scan the room and you do indeed see your laptop, "I knew I left it here." You mumble to yourself, but Sam hears and looks at you confused.

"My laptop." You say, using your head to point at it. Sam nods, but the furrow still on her in brows.

Anika is on the bed with Mindy who groans out, "Fuckkk..." at the pain throbbing in her arm.

Suddenly, the banging stops. You eye Sam confused, who looks back toward the bathroom doors, which are both open. "Anika!" Sam whisper shouts, "Bathroom door, hurry." Anika rushes to the bathroom. She screams out in horror noticing the dead body in the tub.

Before Anika has time to shut the door, Ghostface appears. He stabs her in the stomach and twists the knife causing her to yell in pain. You and Sam rush to her aid. Ghostface shoves Anika's body into Sam.

 Sam falls to the ground with Anika in her arms. Sam holds Anika's body, staring at her in disbelief. You turn to face Ghostface who creeps closer to you. Sam rushes up, pulling Anika into Quinn's room. You follow behind, closing the door just in time. Ghostface bangs on the door, trying to get in, but you're pressing harder. Mindy takes Anika from Sam, and Sam runs to help you. You look at the dresser in the room then Sam, she nods running to dresser and shoving it against the door with your help.

Ghostface continues to bang on the door, but it's of no use. You and Sam hold the dresser in place, the dresser blocking the door from opening. Sam takes a step back, relieved that the dresser is strong enough to keep Ghostface out. You and Sam exchange a glance, relieved that you are safe for now. But you know the danger isn't over yet. You must find a way to escape before Ghostface finds another way in.

Sam runs to the window, and you decide to stay back by the door. Just in case. Mindy gets up, helping you maintain the barricade. You see Sam's neighbour- Danny? You believe that's Danny, Tara had told you about him and how she thinks him and Sam are screwing behind everyone's back.

Guess it takes one to know one.

They exchange a few words before Danny passes a ladder through the window. "Anika! Mindy! You two go first," Mindy shakes her head, "What no?"

"Mindy!" Sam shouts. Mindy stands her ground. "Someone has to help Y/N hold the door! I'll send Anika next, go!" Sam reluctantly exits through the window, making her way steadily across the ladder. "Shit, Anika your stomach looks like Niagara Falls," You say, sweat now apparent on your forehead. Anika throws her head back groaning. "Can you please say something more positive?"

Mindy leaves you, wrapping an arm around Anika and bringing her to the window. "You have to go first. You have to go," Mindy nearly begs her girlfriend. Anika shakes her head and tears fall. "No! No, Mindy! I can't! I'll be right behind you, I promise."

Ghostface delivers a hard kick to the door, sending you a few feet in front of the dresser. You hurry and go back to your old position, pouring all your strength into holding the dresser in place. Mindy and Anika look back in fear, knowing that arguing who goes first was not going to help them survive this.

 Mindy pulls Anika into a kiss, all of her emotions going into it. Fear, sadness, and contentment. Anika holds Mindy tightly, feeling the same emotions. Mindy pulls away and looks at Anika with a sad expression, making her way onto and across the ladder.

 Your heart begins to pound even more if it was possible. You are completely scared shitless. You don't know if you can hold off Ghostface any longer. He was one persistent son of a bitch. Anika is now halfway across the ladder, and the dresser is shoved into your back, your barricade is now gone. You take a deep breath and steel yourself for what's to come. You're determined to survive this. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you prepare for the fight.

Sam, Danny, and Mindy's faces dropped. Anika furrows her eyebrows confused. She turns around noticing Ghostface has made his way into Quinn's room. She rushes to the end of the ladder, safely reaching Danny's apartment. Sam watches you hold your ground to Ghostface. She doesn't know how to feel.

Were you about to sacrifice your life for her and her friends? 

 "Come on!" You yell at Ghostface who squeezes his way through the dresser. He menacingly approaches you, his knife glinting in the moonlight. You close your eyes and prepare for the worst, you knew he was stronger than you, but that doesn't mean you'd go out without a fight. You lunge forward, swinging your fists wildly in the hopes of pushing him away. Your efforts are in vain, however, and Ghostface easily knocks you aside. He raises his knife, ready to deliver the final blow.

You quickly move out of the way back onto your feet. You take a deep breath and focus on Ghostface, readying yourself for the next attack. He charges forward, knife raised. You prepare to fight back. You dodge the attack and punch Ghostface in the face. He stumbles back and you take the opportunity to run away. You squeeze yourself through the dresser and make your way into the bathroom.

Danny and Sam watch you. What the hell did you think you were doing?

Yes, he was stronger than you, but was he smarter than you? You were going to trick him. If he didn't follow you through the crack, he'd go the other way and try to cut you off. But you stayed in the bathroom. Not seeing him emerge through the small squeeze, you quickly and quietly squeeze back through and push the dresser to the door.

 You nearly dive out the window onto the ladder, which Sam and Danny hold onto, cheering you on as you make your way across. You get into Danny's apartment, and you let out of breath of relief. Danny and Sam help you through the window and you collapse on the floor, laughing. You can't believe you actually did it!

 It was now morning. Everyone had made it, except for Quinn. Chad and Tara was also there, Tara had engulfed you into a tight hug, sobbing into your chest. Chad stood beside her, his face twisted with worry. You gently patted Tara's back, feeling your own eyes beginning to swell with tears. You looked around at the group, noticing that everyone had the same expression of worry and grief. You all had made it through the night, but Quinn hadn't. You felt a deep sadness wash over you, and you knew that this was going to be a difficult for all of you.

Chad couldn't bring it to himself to hug you but, He squeezed your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. You appreciated the small gesture and realized that, in that moment, words weren't enough.

Tara hasn't left your side once, almost like she was scared Ghostface would just walk up and take you. You missed her, and your breakup had to be one of the hardest things you've dealt with in college. You felt like you had to protect Tara, like you could shield her from the world's dangers. You wished you could have been there to keep her safe and make her feel secure. You were determined to make up for lost time and make her feel loved again.

"Did you mean it?" You ask, you and Tara now alone in the back of an ambulance. She lifts her head from your shoulder, confused on what you're talking about. "About me staying out of your life? Do you really want that?"

 Tara shakes her head. She misses you. "I don't," she says, her voice heavy with emotion. "I want to be a part of your life, I want you to be a part of mine." Tears come to her eyes, but she quickly wipes them away. "But look what happens when you are." She mumbles, looking around at the damage Ghostface has done.

You take her hand in yours, and pull her close again. "It won't be like this forever," you murmur. "We'll figure this out, I promise." Tara takes a deep breath and nods, trying to compose herself. She wraps her arms around your waist, and you hold her close. You both sit there, embracing each other in the moment of comfort and understanding. You finally break apart, looking into each other's eyes with a newfound sense of hope.

You both smile at each other, and you lean in to kiss her. You both feel a glimmer of hope that you can make it through this together. The kiss is gentle yet passionate, and you both linger in it for what feels like an eternity, savoring the moment. You pull away, feeling a connection and an understanding of one another. You both hold each other's hands, knowing that no matter what happens, you have each other to lean on.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Seven

Summary: (18+) Y/N and Spencer struggle finding time to see each other with their busy schedules, they do find time for Spencer to have a new experience

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Angst, fluff, smut

Warnings/Includes: angst, talks of virginity, self doubt, relationship issues, smut (18+) more warnings under the cut

Word count: 14.3k

a/n: this is so long! and maybe bad!! i have never written smut before i'm so sorry for this, if anyone would like to volunteer to help me or be my smut writer from here on out dear god i'll take it!!!!

main masterlist

Additional warnings: hand job, oral sex (male receiving), nipple play, breast play, slight dirty talk

On Monday morning, the atmosphere in the BAU briefing room was charged with the usual pre-mission tension as the team gathered around the round table. Files and coffee cups were scattered about, each team member reviewing last-minute details before they set out. Hotch, standing at the head of the table, concluded the briefing with his customary, "Wheels up in 30."

As the team began to disperse, Morgan leaned over to Spencer with a mischievous grin. "So, Pretty Boy, don't think you're getting off easy this morning. We need the scoop on your big date," he said, loud enough for others to overhear.

Spencer's face instantly turned a deep shade of red, a bashful smile creeping onto his lips. Emily and JJ, overhearing Morgan, quickly joined in, pulling their chairs a bit closer to Spencer.

"Come on, Spence, you've got to give us something. We've been on the edge of our seats all weekend!" JJ teased, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Yeah, don't hold out on us, Reid," Emily chimed in, "Was it romantic? Tell us everything!"

Even Rossi, usually more reserved, looked on with a raised eyebrow, clearly interested in hearing details of Spencer's foray into romance.

Spencer glanced around the table at his eager teammates, their faces a mix of amusement and genuine interest. Taking a deep breath, he began to share, his voice soft but filled with happiness. "Well, we went to the Met, and then to this great little restaurant that we went to after that one case. It was... really nice."

"Nice? That's all you've got?" Morgan laughed, prodding him further. "Come on, man, did you make out? Did you go up to her place? Give us the good stuff!"

Spencer let out a nervous and surprised laugh, a bit more relaxed now, encouraged by the friendly banter. "We laughed a lot. And, well, we did end up walking back to her place together. It was a good night."

"And?" Emily prodded, not satisfied with the basics.

"And," Spencer continued, a shy but unmistakably happy smile spreading across his face, "she kissed me on the cheek when we said goodnight."

The table erupted in cheers and claps, with Penelope Garcia, who had just walked in on the conversation, squealing in delight. "Oh my gosh, that is so cute! Spencer, that’s wonderful!"

Hotch, who had been packing up his files, looked over with a small, approving smile. "It sounds like you had a successful evening, Reid. I'm glad."

Spencer nodded, feeling a rush of warmth from the support and excitement of his team. "Thanks, everyone. I, uh, I really like her. We're planning to see each other again soon."

"Well, you've got the BAU's official seal of approval," Rossi said, giving Spencer a friendly nod. 

—

Late one evening, while away on a case, Spencer found himself lying on his hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The hum of the air conditioner and the occasional siren outside couldn't drown out the thoughts of Y/N swirling in his mind. Finally giving in to the urge, he picked up his phone and dialed her number, his heart racing slightly as he waited for her to answer.

"Hey, Spencer!" Y/N's voice came through, bright and cheerful, immediately easing some of the tension he felt from the case.

"Hey, Y/N," Spencer breathed out, trying to sound casual. "I, uh, I realized I forgot to ask you something important the other day."

"Oh?" Y/N's voice was laced with amusement, clearly sensing there was more to his call. "And what could that possibly be at this hour?"

Spencer chuckled softly, feeling a bit more relaxed. "Well, I was thinking about our next date, and I realized we never decided what episodes of Doctor Who we're going to watch. You know, it's crucial planning."

Y/N laughed, the sound making Spencer smile. "Absolutely crucial, Dr. Reid. We wouldn't want to mess up our Doctor Who marathon with poor episode choices. That would be tragic."

As their conversation eased from light-hearted banter about Doctor Who into more substantial topics, Y/N and Spencer found themselves delving into the realities of their day-to-day professional lives. Y/N described a particularly challenging situation at work. Her role required not only expertise in psychology but also a deep well of patience and creativity to reach children who were often surrounded by walls of mistrust.

"I had to think outside the box today," Y/N explained, her tone reflective. "It's tough when you can see the potential for breakthrough, but every approach you take just doesn't seem to click at first."

Spencer listened intently, nodding even though she couldn't see him. "I can imagine that's incredibly challenging. But if anyone can find a way, it's you," he encouraged, genuinely impressed by her dedication and innovative methods.

"Yeah, thanks, Spencer. It means a lot to hear that," Y/N replied, her voice softening with appreciation.

Switching the focus to Spencer, Y/N asked about his current assignment. Spencer was naturally more guarded, knowing the often grim details of his cases could be distressing. He chose to describe the broader strokes of the behavioral analysis involved rather than the specifics.

"We're working on identifying patterns in a series of incidents across state lines," Spencer began, his tone clinical but careful. "It involves a lot of data synthesis and predictive modeling, trying to anticipate the unsub's next move without much to go on."

"That sounds intense," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued by the intellectual challenge of his job, despite the darker undertones. "How do you manage the stress that comes with that kind of responsibility?"

Spencer gave a small laugh, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Lots of coffee and not enough sleep, mostly. But really, it's about compartmentalizing and focusing on the fact that every step we take is towards preventing further harm."

Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of such a role. "It's incredible what you do, Spencer. Really. It's like every day, you're part of a team that saves lives."

The conversation then veered back to lighter topics, but the depth of their exchange added layers to their understanding of each other. This mutual glimpse into their professional lives not only deepened their respect for one another but also highlighted the parallels in their dedication to helping others, albeit in very different contexts. 

"So, the team's been giving you a hard time, huh?" Y/N asked, her tone turning playful again.

"You have no idea," Spencer sighed dramatically. "Morgan hasn't stopped teasing me since I got back from our date. And Penelope—she showed up at my door Sunday evening with dinner and dessert, wanting to hear all about our night."

"Really?" Y/N giggled. "She did the same to me! I guess she couldn't wait to get all the gossip from both sides."

"It was a full-on interrogation," Spencer joked. "But, honestly, it's nice to see them so happy for us."

"Yeah, it is," Y/N agreed, her voice softening. "They sound like a great team."

"They really are," Spencer confirmed. They spent another moment discussing potential ideas for their next date, bouncing thoughts off each other with an ease that felt both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

As their conversation wound down, neither Spencer nor Y/N seemed eager to hang up. They lingered on the line, sharing a comfortable silence that spoke volumes of their growing connection.

"Spencer, I... I'm really glad you called," Y/N finally said, her voice a whisper as if she were confiding a secret.

"Me too, Y/N. I suppose I sort of… miss you," Spencer admitted, his voice equally hushed, the words feeling both scary and right.

"Me too," she whispered back, her voice warm with affection.

Eventually, they said their goodnights, but only after making tentative plans for when Spencer returned. Hanging up, Spencer lay back on his bed, a content smile on his face. He felt like a giddy teenager with his first crush. He only wished Y/N was here, laying in the bed next to him. 

—

Back home from the case, Spencer's apartment felt unusually tidy and welcoming as he gave it one last sweep before Y/N's arrival. The anticipation had him checking the clock every few minutes, a nervous energy propelling him from one room to another as he made sure everything was perfect for their Doctor Who marathon night. He had spent the earlier part of the day decorating subtly with Doctor Who memorabilia, including a makeshift TARDIS door cover that added a playful touch to his usually unadorned apartment. 

On the coffee table, Spencer arranged an assortment of snacks, paying special attention to include all of Y/N's favorites that Hotch had discreetly passed on to him. There were bags of gourmet popcorn, several types of chocolate, and even some healthier options like fruit and nuts, all set beside two large bowls.

In the kitchen, the smell of homemade meat pies filled the air—an attempt by Spencer to bring a bit of British flair to their evening. He hoped the gesture would be met with a smile, considering Y/N's affection for all things authentically connected to their shared favorite show.

The setup for the marathon was equally thought-out. The living room was rearranged to ensure maximum comfort. Cushions and blankets were piled on the sofa, creating a cozy nest. The TV was set with the Doctor Who episodes they had agreed on, including a mix of both their favorites and a few Y/N mentioned she had never seen before, promising fresh enjoyment and reactions for Spencer to witness.

As the time neared for Y/N to arrive, Spencer's excitement was tempered with nerves. He wanted the night to be perfect, to be a step forward in their blossoming relationship. He went over his mental checklist again—snacks, ambiance, dinner, entertainment—all checked off. Yet, the butterflies in his stomach wouldn't settle.

Finally, a soft knock on the door jolted him from his reverie. His heart skipped a beat as he walked to the door, smoothing down his shirt unconsciously. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he opened the door with a hopeful smile.

Y/N stood there, her presence instantly brightening the doorway. Her smile was wide, and she held up a bag of additional treats, playfully suggesting they might not have enough snacks—a light jest to ease into the evening.

"Hey, Spencer," she greeted warmly, stepping inside and looking around with an appreciative eye. "Wow, you really went all out, didn’t you? It looks amazing!"

Spencer's nervousness faded slightly under her genuine enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like it," he replied, feeling a bit more confident. "I wanted it to be a special night for us."

As they settled in, the initial awkwardness melted away. They shared laughs over the themed setup, teased each other about episode preferences, and soon enough, the marathon was underway. 

As the marathon progressed, the room filled with the familiar sounds of Doctor Who's opening credits and the occasional laughter from Spencer and Y/N. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful, a perfect blend of comfort and excitement as they dove into the adventures of their favorite Time Lord.

During one of the episodes, Y/N leaned forward to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. Spencer saw this as his moment to make a smooth, albeit slightly clichéd move he had seen in a movie once. As Y/N reached for the popcorn, he casually stretched his arm and draped it over the back of the couch, right behind where Y/N had been sitting.

When Y/N settled back against the couch, she was momentarily surprised to find Spencer's arm behind her. A slight blush colored her cheeks as she turned to look at him, noticing his somewhat sheepish but hopeful smile. In that instant, any surprise she felt melted away into a warm sense of affection. With a small, encouraging smile of her own, she scooted closer to him, tilting her body to lean into his side.

Spencer's heart raced with the thrill of the moment, but as Y/N nestled into him, he felt a wave of calm wash over him. He adjusted his arm to wrap it more comfortably around her shoulders, allowing her to snuggle closer. The couch, already a cozy setup, now felt like a small haven as they both relaxed into the new position.

With Y/N leaning into his side, Spencer felt a profound sense of contentment. He could smell the faint scent of her shampoo, and the warmth of her body against his was reassuringly tangible. Every so often, Y/N would make a comment about the episode, or point out a funny inconsistency, and they would share a quiet laugh, their bodies shaking together slightly with each chuckle.

As the episodes rolled on, their initial single-arm arrangement naturally evolved into full-on cuddling. Y/N's head eventually found its way to Spencer's shoulder, and one of his hands rested lightly on her arm, fingers occasionally brushing hers. Every touch, though light and casual, sent sparks of delight through Spencer, reinforcing how right it felt to have her so close.

As the soft glow of the TV illuminated their faces, Y/N shifted slightly, her hand finding its way to Spencer’s thigh. The light touch sent a shiver through Spencer, stirring a mix of emotions and igniting a cascade of thoughts.

Internally, Spencer wrestled with the intensity of the sensation. Being a virgin, moments of physical intimacy like this were uncharted territory, laden with excitement but also a nervous apprehension. He cherished the warmth and closeness of Y/N beside him, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel a surge of anxiety about the physical expectations that might lie ahead.

His heart raced, not just from the thrill of her touch but also from the conflict within him—between his yearning for intimacy and the fear of his inexperience being a letdown. Spencer's mind buzzed with thoughts. He loved how natural it felt to have Y/N so close, how right it seemed to share this space and moment with her. Her hand on his thigh was comforting yet electrifying, a symbol of her desire and acceptance of him.

Despite his fears, Spencer realized that Y/N’s affectionate gesture was not just about physical desire; it was a reaffirmation of the emotional connection they shared. It was her way of showing trust and comfort in his presence. This realization helped ease some of his internal turmoil. He wanted to embrace this moment fully, to let go of the self-imposed barriers that his lack of experience had built around him.

Spencer's mind raced, and his body tensed almost imperceptibly under the weight of his thoughts. Y/N, sensitive to the subtle shift in his demeanor, felt the change in tension. Concern etched her features as she gently withdrew her hand from his thigh.

"Spencer, are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry. She moved slightly to face him better, her expression open and concerned.

Spencer blinked, brought back to the moment by her question. He saw the worry in her eyes and immediately felt a pang of guilt for causing her any distress. "Oh, Y/N, yes, I’m okay," he quickly reassured her, managing a small smile. "I'm sorry, I just got a little stuck in my head. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Seeing her still looking apologetic, Spencer paused the show, turning to face her fully. The seriousness in his actions caught her attention, and she mirrored his position, giving him her full attention.

"There’s something I need to tell you," Spencer began, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that he seldom showed. He took a deep breath, searching Y/N’s eyes for the understanding he knew he would find. "I’m a virgin," he confessed, the words hanging between them in the quiet space of the room.

He rushed to explain, not just to clarify but also to unburden his heart. "It’s not for lack of trying or wanting. It’s just... I was always younger than everyone else in my grade, and, well, I was nerdy and got bullied quite a bit. So, it never happened for me." His voice was a mix of nervousness and embarrassment, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to Y/N’s.

Y/N listened intently, her heart swelling with empathy for Spencer. She reached out, taking one of his hands in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "Spencer," she said gently, her voice warm and devoid of any judgment, "thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been to say. I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I really like you, and nothing about this changes that."

Spencer looked at her, relief washing over him at her words. Her acceptance and understanding were palpable, and it helped ease the embarrassment that had coiled tight in his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N," he replied, his voice soft but filled with immense gratitude. "I just didn’t want to lead you to expect something I might not be ready for."

Y/N nodded, her smile kind. "We’ll go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with, Spencer. There’s no rush. I’m here with you, and that’s all that matters."

With the air cleared and their connection deepened by the honest exchange, Spencer resumed the show. But the night had shifted; there was a new closeness between them, a deeper bond forged by vulnerability and acceptance. 

Y/N, still holding Spencer's hand, glanced over at him, a curious expression on her face. "Can I ask you something else, Spencer?" she ventured, her tone gentle to keep the space between them safe and open.

"Of course," Spencer replied, turning to meet her gaze, appreciative of her sensitive approach.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued but her voice steady, showing that it was just another facet of getting to know him better.

Spencer paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before answering. "Yes," he admitted, his voice a little tentative. "One person, and only once."

Y/N nodded, taking in his response without judgment, her expression softening. "Thank you for telling me," she said, squeezing his hand a little tighter in a gesture of support. "I really appreciate your honesty, Spencer. It means a lot that you’re comfortable sharing these things with me."

Spencer smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him at her understanding and acceptance. "Thank you, Y/N, for being so understanding. It’s not always easy to talk about these things, but I’m glad I can with you."

After a moment of comfortable silence, filled with the sounds of Doctor Who playing in the background, Y/N leaned over and gently kissed Spencer’s cheek. The gesture, simple yet intimate, seemed to seal the new level of trust and openness between them. She settled back into the crook of his arm, resuming their cuddling position as they turned their attention back to the screen.

As they watched, Spencer’s mind churned with thoughts. The warmth from Y/N’s kiss lingered on his cheek, a tangible reminder of their growing closeness. Despite the comfort and ease between them, a question nagged at him, fueled by his own admissions and the openness they had just shared. Gathering his courage, he decided it was his turn to understand more about Y/N.

“Y/N,” Spencer began, his voice a little hesitant as he again paused the show, turning to look at her with a mix of curiosity and slight apprehension. “Can I ask you about your experiences?”

Y/N looked at him, sensing the importance of his question and the vulnerability it took for him to ask. She nodded, a gentle encouragement for him to continue.

"Have you ever had sex?" Spencer asked cautiously, his eyes carefully gauging her reaction to ensure he wasn't crossing any lines.

"Yes, Spencer, I have. But that does not mean I expect anything from you," Y/N responded gently, her voice reassuring.

"Oh, okay. Thank you," Spencer replied, a sense of relief washing over him, yet curiosity nudged him to probe a little further. "Um, have you done everything? Like oral sex?" he inquired, his voice wavering slightly with the discomfort of the unknown but eager to understand her better.

"Yeah. In fact… I quite like it. Giving and receiving," Y/N said flirtatiously, her straightforwardness aimed at keeping the air between them clear and honest, but also slightly teasing.

"OH. Oh my God, okay. Okay. Let’s get back to the show," Spencer stammered, a flush creeping up his cheeks as he quickly reached for the remote, eager to shift their focus back to the safety of the television screen. His mind buzzed with the new information, appreciating her candor but also overwhelmed by the implications of their conversation.

As the awkward tension began to dissipate, Y/N offered a reassuring smile and gently teased, "Okay, big guy. We can get back to the show. But I want you to know you can always talk to me about anything."

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate you," Spencer responded, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and lingering nerves. Her openness and reassurance made him feel valued and safe, a rare and cherished feeling.

Y/N, noticing Spencer's still heightened state, decided to lighten the mood further. "Spence… you seem kind of worked up right now, are you okay?" she asked playfully, her tone light.

"Mhm… yup, yeah, totally, super good," Spencer replied, his response a bit too quick and a touch too emphatic, betraying his still-rattled nerves.

"Yeah? You like it when I call you Spence?" Y/N probed further, a soft chuckle accompanying her words as she picked up on his slight disarray.

"I do, yeah," Spencer admitted, his voice softer now. "It’s intimate."

"Okay, Spence," Y/N said with a warm smile, shifting slightly to bring her hand back to his thigh, reinstating the comfortable intimacy that had momentarily been clouded by nervous energy.

The simple touch and the use of his nickname in such a tender manner helped ground Spencer. He felt a wave of affection for Y/N, appreciating how she navigated their conversation with sensitivity and humor. The return of her hand to his thigh, a gesture now familiar and comforting, reaffirmed her comfort and acceptance of him, no matter the topic of conversation.

As they settled back into their viewing positions, Spencer felt more at ease than before, the previous tension melting into a warm connection. Their shared laughter and light-hearted banter resumed, filling the room with a sense of closeness that promised only to deepen with time.

The final credits of the last Doctor Who episode rolled across the screen, neither Spencer nor Y/N made a move to get up. The comfortable silence between them spoke volumes; neither wanted the night to end. However, as the late hour ticked by, the inevitable conclusion of their perfect evening approached.

Spencer felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. Part of him yearned to extend the invitation for her to stay, to not let the night end, but he knew he wasn't ready to take such a significant step. His heart raced at the mere thought of having someone stay over, especially someone as special as Y/N. The anxiety of such intimacy so soon was palpable in his tense posture and distracted glances.

Y/N, ever observant and sensitive to Spencer’s moods, noticed his discomfort. Recognizing his internal struggle, she decided to ease the situation with the warmth and understanding she had shown all evening. She leaned closer, closing the small distance between them on the couch, and caught his gaze with her soft, empathetic eyes.

"Spencer," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. Without another word, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. It was a tender, affirming kiss, one that spoke of her deep respect for his boundaries and her care for his feelings.

The kiss was a first for them both in this budding relationship, and it was electric, sending a warm flush through Spencer’s body. It was a perfect end to their date, sealing their evening with a promise of affection and mutual respect.

As they slowly pulled apart, Spencer looked at Y/N, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and profound gratitude. "Thank you," he managed to say, his voice low and full of emotion. "For understanding and, um, and for kissing me."

Y/N giggled and smiled, her hand reaching up to gently touch his cheek. "Of course, Spencer, it was my pleasure. I really like you, and I’m more than happy to take things at a pace that feels right for both of us."

With the night winding down, they both stood and tidied up the living room, lingering over small tasks, neither wanting to rush their goodbyes. Finally, at the door, they shared another long, warm hug.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Spencer," Y/N said.

"Me too, Y/N. Let’s do this again soon," Spencer replied, his smile genuine and hopeful.

With a final wave, Y/N stepped out into the cool night, leaving Spencer by his doorway, his heart full and his mind already anticipating their next meeting. 

Spencer, still riding the high from their evening together, wandered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, his thoughts replaying the perfect moments of their date. The soft sound of a knock at his door pulled him from his reverie. Puzzled, since it was quite late, he walked back to the door, adjusting his glasses as he went.

He opened the door, and there stood Y/N, her expression a mix of determination and a hint of playfulness. Before Spencer could form a question, Y/N spoke up, her voice soft yet urgent.

"I forgot something," she said quickly, and without waiting for his response, she leaned in and kissed him. This kiss was deeper and more intense than the last, filled with an emotion that had been simmering beneath their earlier interactions. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck to keep them connected, and Spencer reciprocated by putting his hands on her face. He kissed her like he was hungry for affection, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. This was the best kiss Y/N has ever had, never has she felt more desired. 

When Y/N started to slip her tongue out to play along Spencer’s bottom lip, he let out a gentle whimper. Embarrassed and brought back to reality, Spencer slowly pulled back.

As they finally parted, Spencer was left momentarily breathless, his heart racing from the unexpected intensity of their connection. Y/N looked into his eyes, a gentle smile playing on her lips, as if to reassure him of the depth of her feelings.

"Goodnight, Spencer," she whispered, pressing her pointer finger to his lips before stepping back with a lingering touch that felt like a promise.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Spencer managed to say, his voice a whisper of awe and affection. He watched her walk away, the sway of her hips enticing him, and the warmth of her kiss still lingering on his lips.

As Spencer closed the door and leaned against it, he felt a surge of emotions overwhelming his initial shock. The spontaneity and passion of Y/N's return had left him stunned, she wanted him. She really did want him, enough to turn around and come back for another taste. He touched his lips, smiling to himself in the quiet of his apartment, deeply moved and eager for their next encounter.

—

Over the course of several months, Spencer and Y/N found themselves woven into a pattern of sporadic yet deeply cherished dates. Each meeting was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the kind of comfort that only comes with genuine connection. As the weeks turned into months, their feelings deepened—a testament to the quality of the moments they spent together, even if those moments were fewer than either of them would prefer.

Despite their growing affection, both Spencer and Y/N were grappling with the demands of their intense careers. Spencer, with his unpredictable hours at the BAU, often found himself called away at a moment's notice, leaving plans hanging in uncertainty. Y/N faced similar challenges, her responsibilities as a child psychologist not only demanding but emotionally taxing, often leaving her drained and in need of solitude to recharge.

Each date they managed to squeeze into their hectic schedules felt like a small victory against the relentless pace of their professional lives. However, as much as they cherished these snippets of time together, a silent acknowledgment began to grow between them—an unspoken question about the feasibility of nurturing a deeper relationship under such strained circumstances.

Internally, Spencer felt a growing turmoil. He cherished Y/N deeply and found himself increasingly looking forward to their every interaction. Yet, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of inadequacy in not being able to give her more of his time. His mind often wandered during briefings and on flights to cases, pondering whether he was fair to her, holding her back from someone who could offer her the attention and presence he struggled to maintain.

Y/N, on her side, battled similar doubts. She adored Spencer's kindness, his intellect, and the gentle way he made her feel seen and understood like no one else had. Yet, after each date, as she returned to her quiet apartment, the joy of their time together was tinged with a pang of loneliness. The irregularity of their meetings made her question whether they were building something sustainable or if the sporadic nature of their interactions would eventually lead to an emotional disconnect.

Despite these concerns, neither Spencer nor Y/N had broached the subject with the other, each wary of casting a shadow over the precious moments they did share. Their communication, while open and warm, skirted around these deeper insecurities and fears. It was as if by unspoken mutual agreement, they chose to savor the present, leaving the uncertain future to unfold in its own time.

One afternoon, feeling the weight of her thoughts, Y/N decided to confide in Penelope, who had quickly become her best friend who she trusted deeply. They met at a cozy cafe, a place away from the prying eyes and ears of the office, where Y/N felt she could speak freely.

As they settled into the quiet corner with their coffee, Y/N's expression was pensive, her usual brightness tempered by the thoughts swirling in her mind. Penelope noticed her friend's unusual demeanor and reached across the table, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"What’s on your mind, hon?" Penelope asked, her voice soft with concern.

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "It’s about Spencer," she began, hesitating as she searched for the right words. "I really like him, Penelope. I mean, really like him. But I’m struggling with how sporadic everything feels. We see each other when we can, but it’s never enough, and I'm starting to wonder if it ever will be."

Penelope listened intently, her gaze sympathetic. "That sounds really tough," she replied, her voice gentle. "It’s hard when the heart wants what the clock doesn’t allow."

Y/N nodded, a sad smile touching her lips. "Exactly. And I keep wondering if I’m being fair to him—or to myself—by continuing this way. I love our time together, but the gaps in between just leave me feeling more alone. It’s like we’re in this constant loop of hellos and goodbyes, and it’s wearing on me."

Penelope considered her words carefully, understanding the delicacy of the situation. "Have you talked to Spencer about this?" she inquired, knowing that communication could either bridge their gap or confirm her fears.

"Not really," Y/N admitted, looking down. "I’m afraid to. What if bringing it up pushes him away? Or what if he feels the same way, and it leads to... ending things? I don’t know if I’m ready to hear that."

"Y/N, I know it’s scary, but sometimes, laying your cards on the table is the only way to know if you’re playing the same game," Penelope advised, her tone both encouraging and realistic. "Spencer cares about you. Maybe he’s having the same thoughts. Talking about it could bring you closer, or it might give you the clarity you need. Either way, you owe it to yourself to find out."

Y/N absorbed her words, the truth in them resonant and clear. "You’re right, Penelope. I need to talk to him. No matter the outcome, it’s better than just wondering what if."

—

Later that same week, Spencer found himself grappling with his own mix of emotions and uncertainties about his relationship with Y/N. He knew he needed to talk to someone who could offer a fresh perspective, someone who understood the demands of their work and the impact it could have on personal life. Naturally, he turned to Derek Morgan, his colleague and friend, whose advice he had always valued.

They decided to step out for a quick bite, a way to get away from the office and talk openly. As they walked to a nearby diner, Spencer felt the weight of his thoughts like a physical burden.

Once they were seated in a quiet booth at the back of the diner, away from the lunchtime rush, Derek took the lead. "Alright, kid, you look like you’ve got the world on your shoulders. Talk to me," he said, his tone both commanding and comforting.

Spencer sighed, stirring his coffee absentmindedly before looking up at Derek. "It’s about Y/N," he started, his voice tense with hesitation. "I really like her, Derek. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. But our schedules... it’s tough. We barely see each other, and when we do, it’s like we’re just stealing moments between cases."

Derek nodded, understanding the difficulty. "I get it, man. It’s hard to build something real when you’re always on the clock. But how does she feel about it? You guys talk about this?"

"That’s just it. We haven’t, really," Spencer admitted, his expression troubled. "I’m worried about what it might mean if we do. What if she’s just as frustrated as I am? What if she wants more than I can give her?"

Derek leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. "Spencer, you can’t let fear of the 'what ifs' stop you from pursuing something good. Maybe she’s feeling the same way, maybe she’s not. But you won’t know until you talk about it. And hey, maybe it’ll help you both figure out a way to make it work."

Spencer absorbed Derek’s words, finding some comfort in his straightforward advice. "You think we can find a balance?" he asked, a hint of hope threading through his voice.

"If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that where there’s a will, there’s a way," Derek responded with a confident smile. "You and Y/N seem to have something special. Don’t give up on it without a fight. Talk to her, man. Open up about your feelings. It’s the only way you’ll both know if you can find a path forward together."

Reassured by Derek’s supportive words, Spencer felt a little lighter as they left the diner. He knew what he needed to do now—have an honest conversation with Y/N. With Derek’s encouragement echoing in his mind, he was ready to face whatever that conversation might bring, knowing that clarity was crucial for both their hearts and their future.

After his conversation with Derek, Spencer felt a newfound resolve to address the uncertainties hovering over his relationship with Y/N. He knew it was time to have a candid discussion about their feelings and the logistical challenges they faced due to their demanding jobs. He wanted to ensure they were on the same page, whether that led to finding solutions or making difficult decisions.

Late one evening, after a long day at the BAU, Spencer found himself alone in his quiet apartment. The weight of the impending conversation pressed heavily on him, but Derek's advice bolstered his courage. He picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over Y/N's contact. Taking a deep breath, he dialed her number, listening to the ringtone with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

"Hey, babe," Y/N answered, her voice a comforting sound in the silence of his apartment.

"Hey, Y/N," Spencer replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Um, are you free tonight? I was hoping we could talk about something important. Could you come over?"

There was a brief pause on the line, and Spencer could almost picture Y/N's thoughtful expression. "Of course, Spencer. I can be there in about an hour. Is everything okay?" her voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Spencer reassured her quickly, not wanting to alarm her prematurely. "It's just something we need to discuss, and I think it's better to do it in person. I'll explain when you get here."

"Okay, I'll see you soon," Y/N replied, her tone now laced with an obvious concern.

"Thanks, Y/N. I'll see you soon," Spencer said, ending the call.

After hanging up, Spencer paced his apartment, trying to organize his thoughts and prepare for the conversation. He set up his living room to be as inviting and comfortable as possible, dimming the lights slightly and arranging the couch with extra cushions. He wanted to create a warm, open environment to foster a sincere and heartfelt discussion.

As he waited for Y/N to arrive, Spencer rehearsed what he wanted to say, reminding himself of the importance of honesty and openness. He acknowledged his feelings for her and his desire to make their relationship work, despite the challenges. His heart felt heavy with the weight of the conversation ahead, but he was also relieved to be taking proactive steps to address the situation.

When he heard a knock at the door, Spencer's heart started beating faster. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and opened the door to find Y/N standing there, a look of gentle concern in her eyes.

"Hey," he greeted her, managing a small smile as he stepped aside to let her in.

"Hey," Y/N replied, stepping into the apartment and looking around, sensing the seriousness of the moment.

As they settled onto the couch, the air charged with a palpable tension, Spencer knew it was time to open up about his concerns and hopes for their future together. The conversation that would follow would undoubtedly shape the trajectory of their relationship, for better or worse.

Once they were both seated, the warmth of the room contrasting with the nervous chill between them, Spencer took a deep breath and met Y/N's gaze. He needed her to understand everything—his fears, his hopes, and how much he valued their time together.

"Y/N, I've been doing a lot of thinking," Spencer began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "About us, about how much I look forward to our time together, and how hard it is when we're apart because of our jobs."

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his, a sense of dread building as she braced for what she feared might be coming.

"I value every moment we spend together," Spencer continued, his confidence growing with each word, thanks to their months of building trust and connection. "But I know it's been hard. The time apart, the cancellations... I hate that it's like this."

As he spoke, Y/N's eyes filled with tears, her heart tightening. She misinterpreted his preamble as a gentle lead-in to a breakup. "Spencer, are you... are you breaking up with me?" she asked, her voice breaking, unable to contain her fear and sadness.

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, immediately realizing the misunderstanding. "No, no, Y/N, that’s not what I want," he hurried to clarify, reaching for her hands. "I’m trying to say that I want to make this work, despite the challenges. I love you, Y/N. I love you, and I want us to find a way to make our schedules work because you mean so much to me."

Hearing the words "I love you" not only surprised Y/N but also washed away her fears. She squeezed his hands back, the tears now flowing from relief and joy. "I love you too, Spencer. I’ve been so scared of losing what we have. I want to make it work, too. I don't want to give up on us."

As the tension dissipated, Spencer and Y/N, now nestled into the comfortable couch, delved into thoughtful conversation about how to align their lives more harmoniously.

Spencer started, his tone hopeful, "What if we sync our calendars more closely? We could see when each other is free and plan ahead more effectively."

Y/N nodded, her mind whirling with ideas. "Yes, and maybe we could set some boundaries at work. I know it's not always possible, but we could at least try to keep certain nights or weekends clear for us," she suggested, her voice filled with determination.

"I like that," Spencer replied, a smile breaking across his face. "And when we do have time together, we should make it really count. Quality over quantity, right? Maybe some unplanned adventures or just quiet nights in, like this."

Y/N laughed, squeezing his hand. "I'm all for adventures, but nights like these are perfect, too. It’s about the connection, not just the activity."

As they continued to talk, each proposal seemed to weave them tighter together, their plans forming a tapestry of commitment and mutual support. The conversation flowed naturally into laughter and lighter topics, their earlier fears now just a memory.

Lying curled up together, Y/N looked up at Spencer, her eyes gleaming with affection. "Saying ‘I love you’ tonight... it really changed things, didn't it?" she murmured, her voice soft but clear in the quiet room.

"It did," Spencer agreed, his arm tightening around her. "It feels like we’re really in this together now, no matter what comes our way."

Y/N rested her head against his shoulder, feeling content and secure. "Together," she echoed, a promise in her whisper. 

As they settled into a comfortable silence, a thought suddenly struck Spencer—a crucial question he realized he had never formally asked. Despite the deep connection and commitment they had just affirmed, he felt a traditional step was missing, one that might solidify their relationship even further. Given his analytical nature and sometimes overly formal approach to social interactions, this oversight nagged at him.

"Y/N," Spencer began, shifting slightly to face her more directly. His heart was racing, not just from the gravity of the conversation they'd had but also from the anticipation of broaching a new, important topic. "I just realized, with everything we've talked about and planned... I never actually asked you something very important."

Y/N looked at him with a mix of curiosity and a gentle smile, sensing his sudden seriousness. "What’s that, Spencer?" she asked, her voice soothing, trying to ease his apparent nerves.

Spencer took a deep breath, his hands slightly clammy as he formulated his question. "Would you be my girlfriend?" he asked, the words feeling somewhat formal yet charged with emotion. "I mean, officially. I know we’ve been seeing each other and all, and I just... I want to make sure we're on the same page and that you know how serious I am about us."

Y/N's heart melted at his earnestness and the slightly awkward yet utterly sincere way he posed the question. A broad, affectionate smile spread across her face, and she reached out to hold his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Spencer, I thought you'd never ask," she teased gently, then grew more serious. "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Spencer's relief was palpable, and a warm laugh escaped him, echoing around the quiet room. "Okay, good. I just wanted to be sure. I sometimes get caught up in the details," he admitted, his smile reflective of the deep joy he felt.

"Getting caught up in the details is part of what I love about you," Y/N replied, her voice tender. She leaned in, kissing him softly, a seal on their newly defined relationship.

—

Y/N found herself struggling with a mix of emotions and uncertainties about her relationship with Spencer. She decided to seek advice from Penelope Garcia, who had become a trusted confidante. They got together at Y/N’s apartment, the privacy allowed Y/N to feel comfortable discussing private matters.

After making them coffee, Y/N hesitated, her expression serious. “Penelope, I need to talk to you about something… and it has to stay between us. Especially, you can’t tell Morgan,” she started, emphasizing the need for discretion.

Penelope nodded, her expression turning solemn. “Of course, Y/N. You can trust me.”

Y/N took a deep breath, then continued, “It’s about Spencer… We made things official, and everything is really great, but there’s something that hasn’t happened yet. We haven’t... you know, had sex. In any capacity. We’ve only made out a few times, and not even in overly… fun positions. I’m starting to worry that maybe he’s not interested in that with me.”

Penelope listened intently, her face a mask of understanding. “Okay, hun, I see. But, knowing Spencer, it might not be about a lack of interest. He might just be nervous or unsure about how to proceed. He’s, well, you know, kind of new at this. Honestly, he might not even know you want to, he doesn’t pick up on social cues very well.”

Y/N nodded, her expression a mix of relief and frustration. “I get that, and I don’t want to pressure him at all. But it’s also hard for me. I have needs too, and it’s becoming a bit frustrating. What should I do? How do I bring this up without making him feel pressured or embarrassed?”

Penelope thought for a moment before responding. “Maybe you could find a way to talk about it indirectly at first. Like, ask him what his thoughts are about relationships in general, about intimacy. See if you can get a sense of where he stands and what he’s comfortable with. Then, depending on his responses, you might find a gentle way to express your feelings and needs,” Penelope suggested thoughtfully. “Make it about both of you, about what you both want and need from the relationship, not just about the sex.”

Y/N considered Penelope’s advice, finding comfort in the logical approach. “That makes sense. I’ll try talking to him in a broad sense first. Thank you, Penelope. I just needed to talk this through with someone instead of running it around in my head over and over.”

Penelope smiled warmly. “Anytime, Y/N. And remember, it’s okay to have these conversations. They’re important. Just be honest and gentle, and I’m sure you’ll both figure out a way forward together.”

—

Y/N decided it was time to broach the subject that had been weighing on her mind. She invited Spencer over, planning a quiet and comfortable setting to have their conversation. As they settled onto the couch with cups of coffee, Y/N took a deep breath and gently steered the conversation towards more intimate aspects of relationships.

"Spencer, I've been thinking about us, about how close we've become," Y/N started, her voice soft but clear. "And I wonder if we might talk about our feelings regarding... intimacy. I feel it’s something we haven’t really discussed."

Spencer listened intently, his expression one of attentive concern. "You're right, we haven't really talked about that," he admitted, a slight nervousness in his voice.

Y/N, sensing his discomfort, chose her words carefully. "I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and part of being in a relationship is sharing those intimate moments. I guess, I’ve been feeling a bit unsure because we haven’t crossed that bridge yet."

Spencer’s expression shifted to one of realization mixed with a hint of distress. "Y/N, I’m so sorry if I made you feel neglected in any way. I do think about it, about being close to you like that. It’s just that I’m not very experienced. And... well, there’s something I’ve never told you."

Y/N reached out, placing a gentle hand on his. "You can tell me anything, Spencer. There’s nothing you could say that would make me think less of you."

Encouraged by her supportive demeanor, Spencer took a deep breath and shared his past trauma. "When I was a child, I had a really humiliating experience. I was tied to a post, and it was... it was really traumatic for me. Since then, I’ve been really nervous about being vulnerable with anyone."

Y/N’s heart ached for him, understanding now the depth of his hesitation. "Spencer, thank you for trusting me with that. I’m so sorry you went through such a horrible experience. I want you to know that with me, you’re safe. I would never laugh at you or judge you. We can take all the time you need, and we’ll only move forward with things you’re comfortable with."

Spencer looked at her, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/N. That means everything to me. I do want to be close to you, and hearing you say that makes me feel a lot better about taking those steps together."

As Y/N reassured him, Spencer felt a tumult of emotions swirling within him. While he was relieved and grateful for her understanding and support, he couldn't shake off a pervasive sense of guilt. He realized that his own fears and past traumas had inadvertently led to him neglecting Y/N's needs and desires in their relationship.

Sitting beside her, Spencer's mind raced as he considered the implications. He cared deeply for Y/N, and the thought that he might have made her feel unvalued or unwanted pained him. His usual analytical mind turned inward, critiquing every moment they had spent together, wondering how many signs he had missed, how many silent calls for affection he had overlooked because of his own apprehensions.

I’ve been so wrapped up in my own fears, Spencer thought, that I might have missed what she was going through. She’s been patient and understanding, and here I’ve been, too caught up in my own head to see the full picture.

The realization that Y/N had been carrying this weight on her own added to his distress. She’s been dealing with this silently, not wanting to pressure me. And all this time, she might have felt I wasn’t interested in her in that way, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Spencer knew that Y/N deserved a partner who could meet her needs, both emotional and physical. He wanted to be that partner, but his past trauma had built a wall he found difficult to scale. I need to find a way through this, he resolved, not just for me, but for us. She’s been more than understanding, and I owe it to both of us to work on this.

As they continued to talk, Spencer felt a growing determination to overcome his barriers. I need to start therapy again, he considered, maybe talk to someone professional about how to move past these fears. And I need to be more open with Y/N, keep her informed about my feelings and progress. She shouldn’t have to guess what’s going on with me.

His heart felt heavy with the burden of his past, but also lighter with the possibility of a future where he could fully share himself with Y/N. She’s worth every effort, he thought, and I want to be someone who can fully share in all aspects of our relationship, not just the easy parts.

This night, though challenging, had opened a new chapter for Spencer, one where he faced not only the demons of his past but also the possibilities of a shared future with Y/N. As he looked at her, speaking softly across the couch, he felt a profound love and a fierce desire to be better, for her and for them.

—

Spencer and Y/N were nestled on the couch in his apartment, a gentle warmth from the soft glow of the lamps casting a comforting ambiance over the room. It was a typical quiet evening, but Spencer had something important to share, something that marked a significant step forward in both his personal journey and their relationship.

"Y/N, I wanted to tell you something," Spencer began, his voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and quiet pride. "I've started going to therapy. After our last talk, I realized that I needed to address some things from my past to move forward, not just for us, but for myself as well."

Y/N turned to face him fully, her expression one of deep care and respect. "Spencer, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you for taking that step. It's not easy to open up and seek help, but it's so important."

Spencer nodded, feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders with her supportive words. "Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to hear that from you. It’s been tough, but I feel it’s necessary."

There was a moment of comfortable silence as they both reflected on the significance of his words. Then, Spencer, feeling a surge of courage bolstered by therapy and Y/N's unwavering support, decided to take another step forward.

"And, um, there’s something else," Spencer continued, his heartbeat quickening. "I feel like I've been making some progress, and I... I would like to be closer to you, in every way. I think I’m ready to share that part of myself with you, if you’re okay with it."

Y/N's heart warmed with his words, and she reached out to gently place her hand on his. "I would love that, Spencer. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here."

Encouraged by her acceptance and warmth, Spencer leaned closer, reducing the space between them. His voice was hesitant but hopeful, "Then, maybe we could... try something tonight? Only if you’re comfortable with it," he added quickly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

Y/N's response was warm and full of affection, "Spencer, nothing would make me happier," she assured him, her hand reaching up to gently caress his cheek. She leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that sealed their mutual consent and deepening desire.

As they deepened their kiss, the connection between them grew, charged with a mix of emotional intensity and budding physical desire. Spencer felt a thrilling blend of excitement and nerves, but overwhelmingly, he was assured by the rightness of the moment. It was a step he was ready to take, fully and without any reservations, his previous fears now silenced by the trust and love they had built together.

"Okay, Spencer, I need to know," Y/N began, her voice soft but direct, "have you, um, touched yourself before?" She watched him intently, wanting to understand his level of comfort and experience.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly with a mix of embarrassment and honesty. "I, god, um, yes, I have," he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a blend of vulnerability and relief at her understanding.

Y/N smiled gently, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek. "Alright, that’s a good start, babe," she said reassuringly. "Let’s start there, but instead of your hand, it will be mine, is that okay?" Her words were filled with a mix of affection and gentle guidance, ensuring that he felt safe and comfortable as they explored this new level of intimacy together.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” Spencer replied, his voice steady but laced with the nervousness of what was about to happen.

Y/N, always considerate of his feelings, asked gently, “Do you want to keep your pants on? I can put my hand under your clothes if it makes you more comfortable.”

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “No, no it’s okay, Y/N. I want to be vulnerable with you. I trust you.” His eyes reflected the depth of his sincerity and the trust he placed in her.

Her heart swelled with love and appreciation for his bravery. “Okay then, Spence. Let's take this to the bedroom,” she suggested softly, guiding him with gentle touches and an encouraging smile.

Once in the bedroom, Y/N guided Spencer to gently sit on the bed. Her touch was gentle and reassuring, aimed at soothing his nerves while also conveying her own excitement. She started to unbutton his shirt first, each movement deliberate and caring. As she continued, her lips began placing gentle sucking kisses down his neck. Spencer's breathing picked up, a mix of nerves and arousal coursing through him.

Spencer's mind raced, caught between excitement and anxiety. This was a significant moment for him, one he had imagined but never truly experienced. The reality of it, the intimacy and the vulnerability, was both thrilling and terrifying.

I've never felt like this before, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. She's so gentle, so understanding. I want this, I want her.

His excitement grew with every touch, but so did his anxiety. What if I don't know what to do? What if I disappoint her? Ohh, I am going to finish so fast.

Y/N seemed to sense his inner turmoil. She paused, looking into his eyes with a reassuring smile. "Spence, it's okay. We're in this together. Just relax and let it happen."

Her words calmed him, and he nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Y/N. Thank you for being so patient with me."

After Spencer’s shirt had been successfully removed, Y/N gently straddled his lap. Spencer immediately moaned, his hips bucking up and his hands settling on her own out of instinct. Their lips met in the middle, and a very heated kiss took place. Y/N grinded on his lap, feeling Spencer’s bulge, an appreciative hum coming from her throat.

“Hello to you too, handsome,” she murmured, her voice filled with mirth and teasing.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Spencer blurted out, a mix of apology and embarrassment in his tone.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes locking onto his with reassurance. “What could you possibly be sorry about, my love? Is this not what we’re here for? And besides, I’m flattered.”

Relief washed over Spencer, and he smiled softly, feeling more at ease. “I love you,” he whispered, the words carrying the depth of his feelings.

“And I love you,” Y/N responded, her voice tender and filled with sincerity. “Okay baby, can you lay back for me? I want to touch you.”

Spencer laid back on the bed, supporting himself with his pillows. Y/N began shimmying Spencer’s pants down his hips. He took a deep breath as his underwear was revealed, a bright pink pair with white lines and a large, prominent bulge in the middle.

Y/N giggled, “These are absolutely precious,” and she placed a kiss to his length through his briefs.

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, fuck me. Had his brain been working, he would have also been so happy she wasn’t alarmed by his hot pink underwear. He had forgotten that he wore those that day.

She stared at his bulge. “I really, really want to.” He pushed at his briefs, clearly so desperate to get it off. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how eager he was. The stiff ridge of his cock was already standing at attention by the time he managed to get out of them.

Fully nude, Spencer had never looked more beautiful to Y/N. His chest was heaving and his glasses were fogging up with exertion. She slipped her fingers around the skin of his inner thighs and gently nudged them down past his balls, not touching but keeping eye contact with him so she wouldn’t spook him.

Only when she finally had him calm did she let her stare wander down, eyes widening ever so slightly. He was so hard, dripping and pink and veiny. She couldn’t help but feel her mouth fill with saliva at the sight.

He was mentally prepared for Y/N to just touch his dick, but instead she took her time to kiss his chest. She started at his collar bone, slowly licking to his pecs, taking his nipple in her mouth and sucking. Spencer cried out, that was a sensation he had never even thought of before. No amount of reading and studying could have prepared him for this. Being around Y/N took his IQ down to that of a much lesser man.

Y/N looked up to make sure that Spencer was okay, not in pain or uncomfortable. But seeing the look of sheer ecstasy on his face, she knew it was okay to continue. 

Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. This is insane, he thought, I can’t believe this is happening. His usual analytical thoughts were overwhelmed by the intense feelings Y/N was eliciting. He couldn't focus on anything but the way she was making him feel—alive, aroused, and completely fucking attracted to her.

Y/N is amazing, he realized, his heart swelling with love and appreciation for her. Y/N is amazing, and she is my girlfriend, and she’s sucking on my nipples right now. Take that 19-year-old Spencer. 

As Y/N continued to suck and lick her way around Spencer’s chest, his dick twitched out of neglect, and he reached out to gently caress her breast, wanting to reciprocate the affection and pleasure she was giving him. Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze, they communicated everything that words could not—love, trust, and a deep, mutual desire to make each other feel good.

Y/N looked up at Spencer, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “You want to touch me too, pretty boy?” she asked, her voice sultry and inviting.

Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. “God, yes,” he replied, his voice thick with longing.

Y/N smiled, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Awe, poor baby,” she cooed, her hands moving to remove her shirt, “I’m sorry. Let me take this off.” Her shirt was quickly followed by her bra, Y/N loved Spencer, but she also knew there was no way he was getting that off easily on his first try. 

As she peeled away the final layer of her upper half, Spencer couldn’t contain his reaction. “Oh shit,” he groaned, the sensation of her touch and the sight of her bare chest before him almost too much to bear.

He had never seen breasts before in a sexual setting, had never been allowed to touch. Now, he was holding both of Y/N’s tits in his large palms, gently squeezing and moving them as if to commit them to memory. Like that would be difficult for him. 

Spencer was so mesmerized by the feeling of her tits in his hands, he didn’t even notice her hand creeping down towards his length. Once Y/N wrapped a delicate hand around him, Spencer groaned out a pained noise, squeezing the fat in his hands a hell of a lot tighter.

Y/N's breath hitched as she whispered, “Fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer froze for a moment, his eyes widening with concern. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Y/N quickly shook her head, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek. “Oh, baby no! Fuck no, do it harder,” she reassured him, her tone soothing yet encouraging. A playful glint entered her eyes as she added, “In fact, why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth can do?”

Spencer's initial anxiety melted away at her words, replaced by a surge of confidence and arousal. She wants this as much as I do, he realized, feeling a wave of relief and desire. He took a deep breath, his hands steadying as he prepared to show her just how much he wanted to please her and how much he wanted to make this moment perfect for both of them.

Spencer leaned forward and took Y/N’s nipple in his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the bud experimentally. Looking up at her for reassurance. 

Y/N moaned loudly, grabbing the hair at the back of his head. She looked deeply into his eyes, her voice filled with desire and dripping with a new found sense of confidence. “Oh my god, Spencer. You look so fucking good. Please, baby.”

“Please, what?” he asked, pulling away slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and hope.

“Bite me,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving his.

Spencer couldn’t believe his ears. The affirmation of her words sank in, filling him with a sense of confidence and relief he had never felt before. She wants me to bite her, he thought, overwhelmed by the fear of hurting her. His heart raced, not just from the physical sensations, but from the emotional ones as well.

Feeling more secure and emboldened, Spencer leaned in again, their lips meeting in a kiss that fueled their fire even more. With one hand, he pinched her nipple, pulling hard. Y/N whined loudly in his mouth, so loud, in fact, Spencer was worried he went too far. But then Y/N sped up her hand on his length, pulling him so fast he started to see stars. 

Spencer's breathing grew more erratic as the sensations intensified, his body responding with overwhelming urgency. “Oh shit, oh my God. Y/N, you have to st–stop,” Spencer panted, his voice thick with desperation, “I’m going to cum if you don’t.”

Y/N looked up, a playful yet taunting smile on her face. “Awe but, baby boy! That’s what I want!” she teased, her tone filled with affectionate mischief.

Spencer’s eyes widened, a mixture of pleasure and panic in his expression. “Not this soon, please,” he begged, his voice trembling. He was desperate to prolong this intimate moment, to savor every second of their connection.

Seeing the earnest plea in his eyes, Y/N immediately softened her approach. “Okay, Spence, okay, take a breath. I’m sorry,” she said gently, pausing to give him a moment to regain control.

Spencer took a deep breath, grateful for her understanding. The tension eased slightly, and he felt a wave of appreciation for Y/N's attentiveness and care. She always seemed to know exactly how to balance their needs and desires, making him feel secure even in moments of vulnerability.

Y/N paused for a moment, her eyes meeting Spencer’s with a mix of playfulness and earnestness. “What do you want, Spence?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine curiosity and care.

Spencer looked back at her, feeling a wave of uncertainty. “I don’t, I don’t know, honestly,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

Y/N smiled gently, wanting to ease his nerves. “Can I suck your dick?” she asked, her tone light but serious.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want to do that?? To me??” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Well, yeah, Spence.” Y/N laughed softly, her smile warm and reassuring. “You’re my boyfriend, do you want me to do that?”

Spencer felt a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness. “Yes! Only if you’re sure. I don’t want you to do it because you think you have to,” he said, wanting to ensure her comfort and willingness.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with affection and desire. “Trust me, babe, I want to,” she replied, her voice firm and sincere. She leaned in closer, her hands gently caressing him, reassuring him with every touch.

Spencer's heart swelled with emotion, feeling a deep connection with Y/N. "Um, o–okay, yeah," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Spence," Y/N responded, her voice soft and filled with affection. She kissed him hard in that moment, getting them back in the mood in no time. 

Once she was sure Spencer’s nerves had settled some, Y/N slipped off of the bed and onto her knees. Glancing down at her, Spencer’s eyes were wide with wonder, not being able to believe his eyes. How does she look so beautiful like this?

Y/N began to kiss up Spencer’s lovely thighs, licking and gently biting as she finally got to put her mouth on her favorite part of him. She gently placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

“Ready, baby?” she asked softly, her voice filled with reassurance and love.

Spencer took a deep breath, his nerves momentarily flaring before being soothed by the warmth in her eyes. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside him.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for him. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his tip, licking up the small bead of pre cum that had been tempting her. 

Spencer choked on a gasp, white knuckling the covers on his bed. He had never had anything touch his cock before other than his own hand, and even that was rare. As Y/N left the tip to lick up and down the sides, Spencer felt himself lose his grip on reality. However, when her mouth moved down to his balls, Spencer found himself very aware.

“Woah, wait what?” Spencer exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine surprise and a touch of bewilderment.

Y/N immediately paused, concern flashing across her face. “I’m sorry, Spence, did you not like that?” she asked, her tone soft and reassuring.

Spencer shook his head, a mix of amazement and excitement in his eyes. “I didn’t know that was an option! People put that in their mouths?”

A playful smile spread across Y/N's face as she leaned closer. “Yeah, baby, they do. Did you like it?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

“Mhm, please keep going,” Spencer replied, his voice breathless and filled with anticipation.

Encouraged by his response, Y/N resumed her gentle sucking, her movements deliberate and sensual. She enjoyed this part the most, making her partner fall apart. And being Spencer’s first meant she is also the first person to get to witness him like this. Hopefully I can be the last too.

Y/N noticed the tension in Spencer's body and gently cupped his face, looking deeply into his eyes. "Stop thinking, love. Try to relax. Here, baby, why don’t you put your hands in my hair. You can pull if you need to."

Spencer hesitated, concern flashing in his eyes. "I don’t want to hurt you," he confessed, his voice a mixture of worry and desire.

Y/N smiled softly, her touch reassuring. "You won’t," she promised. "You taste so good." 

Spencer was a whirlwind of emotions, feeling both embarrassed and thrilled by her words. He could feel the blush spreading across his whole body, his skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Despite his nervousness, Y/N’s gentle encouragement and unwavering support made him feel safe and cherished.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer decided to trust in her words and in their connection. He slowly put his hands in her hair as she had suggested, feeling the soft strands between his fingers began to ground him. Whenever Y/N would suck particularly hard or gag around his head, Spencer’s fingers would flex and pull her hair.

Each time Y/N moaned, sending vibrations through Spencer’s body. He could feel himself spiraling closer and closer to his end, amazed he lasted this long to begin with. 

As Y/N continued to suck, Spencer's breathing grew more ragged, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensations she was creating. He felt himself nearing the edge, a feeling so overwhelming he could barely form coherent thoughts.

“Y/N… Y/N, baby, I’m close,” he panted, his voice filled with urgency and vulnerability.

“That’s good, let it go,” she murmured softly, her tone encouraging and loving while her tongue traced the ridge of his head.

“Where?” he managed to ask, needing her guidance in this intimate moment.

“In my mouth,” she replied, her voice steady and reassuring.

“Oh shit,” Spencer gasped, his body tensing as he followed her instructions.

Spencer came down Y/N’s throat with a borderline animalistic cry. She struggled to keep it all in mouth but managed to swallow most of it. Popping up with a beaming smile on her face, Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at the spit and cum smeared around her mouth. 

Spencer let out a chuckle, his usual reserve giving way to the joyous moment they were sharing. “Oh, babe, you’re a mess,” he laughed, his voice light and filled with affection as he looked at Y/N.

Y/N joined in his laughter, the sound blending with his and filling the room with warmth. “Well, well, well. I wonder why!” she teased, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. She leaned in closer, her smile widening as their laughter mingled, creating a bubble of happiness that seemed to encase them both.

Y/N took her thumb and ran it along where the mess had lingered, then sucked her thumb into her mouth while holding eye contact with Spencer. He felt his spent cock give a weak twitch of appreciation for the sight of his sexy girlfriend wanting his cum in her mouth. He can not believe that this is his life. 

Spencer's breathing grew more ragged with each passing moment, his body responding intensely to Y/N's affectionate touch. He couldn't help but let out a small, breathless laugh, a mix of amusement and genuine astonishment at the sensations she was evoking. With a playful glint in his eye, he looked down at her and managed to ask, “Are you trying to kill me?” both teasingly and seriously.

Y/N paused for a moment, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she met his gaze. "Only if you're enjoying it," she replied, her tone equally playful but layered with affection.

Spencer chuckled, his anxiety melting away in the warmth of her gaze and the comfort of their shared humor. "I am, I really am," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and delight. He reached out to gently caress her face, feeling a rush of gratitude and love for this moment and for her.

Y/N leaned in to kiss Spencer again, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring the intimacy of their connection. Spencer’s head fell back onto the pillows, his eyes closing as he allowed himself to fully immerse in the sensations, his trust in her unwavering. His earlier nerves had been replaced with a profound sense of closeness and vulnerability, knowing that with Y/N, he could be his truest self without fear of judgment.

Every touch, every kiss felt like a reaffirmation of their bond, and Spencer couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate. "Y/N, you make me feel... incredible," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. "You deserve to feel this way, Spence. You're amazing, and I want you to know that every single day."

Spencer’s heart swelled with emotion at her words, he had never had anyone the way Y/N has him. 

“Y/N… you can say no. But, would you want to take a bath with me?” Spencer asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and nervousness.

Y/N looked at him, a playful smile spreading across her face. “Spencer Reid, are you inviting me to a bathtub date?”

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Yes, I suppose I am. Rossi gave us this amazing bottle of wine, and I thought it might be nice to enjoy it while we relax… and get clean.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling. “I’d love to. It sounds perfect.”

A little while later, they found themselves slipping into the warm, bubble filled water of the bathtub, glasses of wine in hand. Spencer had to recover quickly after Y/N removed her bottoms and walked off to the bathroom. I didn’t know she had a lower back tattoo… fuck that’s hot. 

The bathroom air was cool, a perfect contrast to the hot water that enveloped them. Rossi, ever the thoughtful friend, had gifted them a bottle of fine red wine upon hearing about their newly officiated relationship, and they had decided to savor it tonight.

They clinked their glasses together, a soft melody of laughter filling the air. “To us,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“To us,” Spencer echoed, his smile wide and genuine.

As they sipped their wine, the rich flavors mingling with the scent of the scented candle, they relaxed further into each other’s company. Spencer leaned back and let the water soothe his muscles. “This wine is amazing,” Y/N remarked, swirling her glass and watching the liquid catch the light.

“Rossi has excellent taste,” Spencer agreed. “I’m glad he’s so supportive. The whole team is.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at him. “It means a lot, knowing they’re happy for us. And I’m happy, Spence. Really happy.”

Spencer reached out, taking her hand in his. “Me too, Y/N. You make everything better.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the warmth of the water and the closeness they shared. The bathtub was a cocoon of relaxation, the wine adding a pleasant buzz that made everything seem even more perfect.

Y/N giggled suddenly, breaking the silence. “Remember the first time we tried to watch Doctor Who together? We barely made it through one episode because we kept getting distracted.”

Spencer laughed, a rich, happy sound. “I remember. We were so excited to share something we both loved, and then we ended up talking through most of it.”

“It was one of my favorite dates,” Y/N said, her smile widening. “I love how we can just be ourselves with each other.”

“Me too,” Spencer replied, his heart swelling with affection. “It’s easy with you, Y/N. Everything just feels right.”

They toasted again, their glasses clinking softly in the night. “To many more nights like this,” Y/N said, her voice filled with hope and happiness.

“To many more,” Spencer agreed, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Spencer Reid,” Y/N whispered, her eyes locked onto his with a depth of emotion that made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m going to make you my wife someday, Y/N L/N,” Spencer replied, his voice filled with certainty and love.

Y/N was shell-shocked. Not upset, but elated, at a loss for words as she processed the weight of his statement. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself momentarily speechless.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” Spencer teased gently, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, her eyes shining with tears of joy. “Spencer, you just... you just took my breath away,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I love you so much, and the thought of spending my life with you is... incredible.”

Spencer pulled her closer, his heart swelling with happiness at her response. “I mean it, Y/N. You’re everything to me. I want us to have a future together, to build a life filled with love and adventure.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her heart feeling like it might burst from the sheer joy of the moment. “I want that too, Spence. More than anything.”

It wasn’t a proposal, it was a promise. 

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender, loving kiss, sealing the promise of their future together. As they continued to share giggling kisses, the bubbles covering Y/N's breasts began to pop, causing the two of them to laugh harder, especially at Spencer's reddening cheeks.

“Looks like the bubbles are conspiring against us,” Y/N said, her laughter infectious.

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks growing even redder. “I guess they want us to face reality.”

Y/N playfully splashed some water at him, still laughing. “Reality is pretty great with you.”

“Agreed,” Spencer said, pulling her closer. “I’m so glad we’re here, together.”

Their laughter gradually softened into contented smiles, and they continued to enjoy each other's company, eventually getting out of the cooling water and embarking in Spencer Reid’s very first sleepover. 

—

The next morning, Spencer woke up briefly to the comforting sensation of Y/N spooning him from behind. He felt so loved and protected, her even breaths on the back of his neck lulling him right back to sleep. 

The next time he woke up, he was alone. Panic surged through him momentarily until he heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Getting out of bed, Spencer threw on a pair of Doctor Who pajama pants and, still shirtless, made his way to the kitchen.

There, he found Y/N in a pair of cheeky underwear and one of his old college sweatshirts, cooking breakfast and brewing coffee. She had clearly run to the store as he had little other than cereal in the form of breakfast food. 

Spencer's breath caught in his throat at the sight. Seeing her in his clothes, moving so naturally around his kitchen, felt so right. The way the sweatshirt fit her body, the familiar fabric draped over her frame, made his heart swell with emotion. It was intimate, domestic, and overwhelmingly perfect.

He stood there for a moment, just watching her. Every movement she made was graceful and filled with care. The way she hummed softly to herself as she cooked, the way she glanced over her shoulder to smile at him—every detail was etched into his mind, painting a picture of pure, unfiltered love.

Spencer couldn’t believe how deeply in love he was with her. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though seeing her in his clothes did stir something primal and possessive within him. It was more than that. It was the way she had effortlessly integrated into his life, the way she made his apartment feel like a home.

He felt a surge of protectiveness, a need to ensure that she was always happy, always safe. Seeing her there, so comfortable and at ease in his space, solidified something within him. She was his, and he was hers. It was a partnership, a connection that transcended mere romance.

Spencer walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Y/N said, turning her head to give him a quick kiss.

"Good morning," he murmured against her skin. "You didn’t have to do all this."

"I wanted to," she replied, moving over to give him another kiss, unable to resist his bedhead and glasses combo. "Besides, I thought it would be nice to surprise you with a proper breakfast."

Spencer wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

Y/N chuckled, playfully nudging him. "I try. Now, sit down and enjoy. Breakfast is almost ready."

Spencer took a seat at the kitchen table, watching Y/N with a mix of admiration and gratitude. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her in his life. The delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee and cooking food filled the air, making the moment feel even more perfect.

"How did you manage to get all of this?" Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N shrugged with a grin. "I’m a woman of many talents. Plus, I couldn’t let you start your day with just cereal."

Spencer laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Well, thank you. This means a lot to me."

"Anything for you, Spence," Y/N said warmly, plating up the food and bringing it over to the table.

Spencer looked at his coffee, noticing it was still black as can be. His initial skepticism must have shown on his face because Y/N quickly picked up on it.

"Relax, Spence," she teased with a playful grin. "I put plenty of sugar in it. I know how you like your coffee."

He raised an eyebrow, matching her playful tone. "Oh, you do, do you? What if I’ve changed my preferences?"

Y/N laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I highly doubt that, Dr. Reid. But if you have, feel free to enlighten me."

He took a sip, and the familiar sweetness immediately made him smile. "Okay, you got me. This is perfect."

"Told you," she said with a smug smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I know you inside and out."

Spencer chuckled, his eyes full of warmth. "Guess I should be grateful you know me so well."

"You should," Y/N teased, nudging him playfully. "Where would you be without me to make sure your coffee is just right?"

"Probably drowning in bitter coffee and cereal," he replied, laughing.

a/n: my god i hope this was okay!! i couldn't get @softdoctorreid and this virgin spencer fic they wrote out of my head while writing this... so good! please check it out they are amazing!!

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You… (Part 10)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sadness, crying, early stages of homesickness??, Chan being turned on🤭, (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷️ : @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Series Masterlist

(Authors note at the end)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

Hearing my alarm clock, I roll over to shut it off. I had a surprisingly restful night's sleep, although I needed to take a second melatonin as the first one didn't help. Fortunately, the airport is conveniently located near my accommodation, and the journey there should only take about 5-10 minutes. After reviewing my flight details, I realized the total travel time would be almost 19 hours. Despite the long journey, I'm relieved there's only one layover before I board the second flight to Seoul.

As I start getting dressed and closing up all my bags, I take one last look around the room, which has brought me comfort and has been the starting point of my journey. Leaving behind a place with special memories is always a bittersweet moment. I know I could still come back and visit, but for now, this was goodbye. I smile, happy that I'm going outside my comfort zone to do something I'm passionate about. As I look around, I bring my bags to the front door.

I had to wake up earlier than planned because my flight was unexpectedly early. My family decided to get up with me to give me a proper send-off. The others were coming to the airport to say one last goodbye. I walked into the kitchen and found my grandmother preparing breakfast for everyone. Seeing my grandfather awake was a pleasant surprise, as his sleeping pattern is usually worse than mine.

“I made breakfast for all of us to eat for the last time together.” I smile at her and thank her for the food. “You know, maybe sometime after I get settled in, you can visit. See South Korea with me. I can also come home anytime I want.” I take her hand and his in mine, I reassure them, "I'm not disappearing forever. I promise to visit as much as I can." They hold on tighter, expressing their sadness at not always seeing me. "I'll have to show him how to FaceTime you," my grandmother says.

“Hey! I know how FaceTime works.”

“Oh really? Then where is it on your phone?”

“Same place it's always been in.” Their playful behavior never fails to bring a smile to my face. I think I'll miss this the most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I prepared to leave, my family gathered to spend some final moments with me. One by one, they came up to say their heartfelt goodbyes.“Hey, Y/N/N, you better not be a stranger now. I don’t want to come there myself to teach you a lesson.” I roll my eyes at my stepbrother’s goodbye. “I love you too, man.” My stepsister is next to come up and hug me. “Send me pictures, yeah? And let me know if you meet any cute guys over there. I wanna know all about it!” I smile, her not knowing I’m already talking to two of them. “Hey now! If you meet any guys, I’mma need their information. That means their name, date of birth, social security number, everything!”

“I’m not giving you anything!” I retort back to my stepbrother. He, in return, shakes his head. My grandparents come up next, giving me their hugs and goodbyes. “Make sure you don’t eat a lot of junk food; you must maintain weight and stay healthy.”

“I will, Nanny; I love you.” She smiles, giving me a tight hug for a small woman. “You take good care of yourself. Since we won’t always have you to help us, Y/B/N must do it for us.” At that comment, my stepbrother exploded, saying how he gets left with my responsibilities of caring for my grandparents and how I need to come back more often to help them. I ignore him and move on to my grandfather.

“You stay safe now, okay? I want you to be able to defend yourself in case someone breaks into your apartment. Do you have your stuff?” I nod, telling him I do and giving him a big hug. I am telling him to take care of himself, and if he ever feels up to it, maybe I can get him and my grandmother a trip over to see me. My dad comes up and pulls me into a hug.

“I want you to call me when you get there, okay? So that way, I know you made it there safely.” My dad tells me. I smile, “I’ll call you when I get there, but you have to remember that I’ll be in a different time zone, so it may be late into the early morning hours before I call.”

“I don't care what time it is; as long as I get a phone call from my baby that she’s okay, I’ll be happy.” I hug him long and hard. Being one of my biggest supporters since I was little, it’s hard to say goodbye to him. I could feel my tears starting to surface. Last is my stepmom; she’s already got tears in her eyes, and mine is beginning to fall. She pulls me into a hug, and the water dam breaks.

As I realize that I won't get to see these amazing people every day, doubts start creeping in about whether this was the right decision in the first place.

When she pulls back, it’s like she’s reading my mind. “I understand that it can be daunting to think about not seeing us every day. However, if you don't step out of your comfort zone, you'll never be able to explore the world as you've always wanted. You will surely be missed, and although your dad and I are homebodies, we'll come to visit you. We love you immensely and want nothing but the best for you. It's time to chase your dreams and become the person you've always wanted to be.” I nod my head and give her a tight hug.

I release her and gather my belongings, taking my first steps toward my new future. As I walk away, I look back at my family again. A stray tear rolled down my cheek as I bid them farewell with a wave. I turn back, holding my head high. I've committed myself to the fact that no matter what challenges come my way, I will never give up on pursuing my dream. Although my heart aches now, I know it will slowly heal with time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to Seoul, South Korea! It is currently 2:30 pm on August 16th.” My sleepiness drowned out the rest of the words. I usually don't sleep on planes, but I did this time. I grab my bag from above, leave the aircraft, and move towards the baggage area. Once receiving my luggage, I headed toward the exit, stopping to find something to eat since all I'd had were airplane snacks.

I discovered a cozy restaurant with a promising menu and went to a table, taking a seat to enjoy my meal. I eagerly indulged, savoring each bite as if it were my last. It was a relief to have some time before officially starting my new job the following week, allowing me to settle in and get organized. While I've already started my new job, I don't have to be on-site until next week.

I had compiled a list of essential tasks, including unpacking, stocking up on groceries, and setting up my new apartment. At that moment, my next priority was to arrange for an Uber to take me to the apartment complex where I would be staying.

After finishing my meal, I disposed of the food container and took out my phone to track the arrival of the Uber. I made a mental note to call my Dad once I reached the apartment. When the Uber arrived, I confirmed the driver's name, and they assisted me in loading my luggage into the vehicle.

I provided them with the address, and upon reaching my destination, I expressed my gratitude and proceeded inside to complete the check-in process. The attendant was incredibly friendly, and the paperwork was swiftly handled, allowing me to receive my keys promptly. I lugged my belongings into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor.

As I reached my apartment door, I eagerly swung it open and lugged all my belongings inside. After securing the lock, a deep sigh escaped my lips. The long flight had left me utterly drained. I quickly dialed my dad's number and left a voicemail, letting him know I had arrived safely. Collapsing onto the nearby couch, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.

Although the temptation to drift off to sleep was strong, I knew I had things to take care of. I reluctantly pushed myself off the comfortable couch, picked up my luggage, and carried it to my room. I was fortunate to have found a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a convenient washer and dryer combo.

I surveyed the array of living essentials I had recently acquired, realizing that I also needed to stock up on groceries. Choosing to address this need immediately, I retrieved my purse and keys and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. Having previously researched nearby markets, I headed to the closest one and embarked on a shopping trip that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.

Upon returning home with bags of groceries, I meticulously organized and stored each item in the kitchen. Subsequently, I assembled the furniture and set up my home office, methodically putting together the bed, nightstand, and desk. As I progressed through these tasks, everything seemed to fall into place seamlessly. However, as the day turned to evening and fatigue began, I succumbed to exhaustion.

After ensuring the door was securely locked, I went to the shower. I was thankful I had taken a shower earlier, as I was too tired to rewash my hair that night. Following my usual evening routine, I finally collapsed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep, I sent a good night message to my family, locked my phone, and surrendered to the beckoning of slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week flew by, and I was pleased to find that the rest of my belongings had arrived in the same condition as when they were picked up. I made a mental note to thank the CEO of the moving company for their excellent service. My coworkers kindly came over to assist me in moving all the furniture upstairs and arranging it in the best possible positions.

I appreciated the support of others as I tackled the challenge before me. It was satisfying to see everything arranged just as I had envisioned. Adapting to the time change this week has been quite a feat. It's a new experience for me, and although it's been difficult, I'm confident I'll adapt in due time. I've taken the opportunity to explore, but I've been cautious as I don't know anyone here. Watching crime shows has made me more vigilant about my surroundings, and I'm hesitant to engage with unfamiliar individuals.

I could sense that the guys were starting to get suspicious of me because I'd changed my usual texting routine and avoided their calls. I know I'm not improving things, but I have a video next week to explain what's happening. I'm just holding out until the video is ready to be released. Until then, they will have to wait a bit longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Third Person POV

The men had every reason to feel wary. It seemed as though she was privy to information that they were not. The other members could sense the shift in their elders, but none were willing to confront the issue. They chose to ignore the obvious problem rather than address it. Chan decided to step aside and call Y/N. He hadn't informed any of the others, especially Minho. He felt guilty for concealing such an innocent action but wanted to keep this secret longer.

Y/N had been behaving unusually lately. She confided in him that she was going through some changes that were causing her stress and exhaustion. He was concerned but didn't want to pressure her. When she answered his call after the second ring, she sounded cheerful as always. "Hi, Channie!" she greeted him with a tone that flushed his face at the affectionate nickname. "Hey, Y/Nnnie, how have you been? I haven't heard from you much," he inquired. Her laughter on the other end was sweet and infectious. "I'm doing fine. I was actually on my way to work," she replied. Confusion crossed his face. 'Work? Shouldn’t she be in bed by now?’ he inquires.

Not realizing she was calling for him. "What do you mean work? I thought you would be in bed by now?" Y/N freezes as she realizes her mistake. She berates herself, thinking, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' while hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Ah, well, I'm not uhh… I mean, I am I….URGHHH!” The moment her brain decides to take a break is precisely when she needs it the most. Chan is completely bewildered now, eagerly waiting for her response.

After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she finally admits something. “Look, there may have been some major changes in my life right now, and I wanted to surprise you when the time was right. I have a video coming out today that will explain everything. That's all I can tell you.” Chan nods his head, then forgets he isn't FaceTiming her. “Okay, love. I'll be patient and wait for your video. Afterward, I expect no more hiding things, okay?”

“Yes, sir, you have my word.” Chan shouldn't have been affected by those words, but coming from her, it felt like a shock just went through his body. “Anyways, I have to go, Channie; we’ll talk later, yeah?” After they said their goodbyes, Chan returned to the room with a huge smile and a semi-hard in his pants.

(A/N: I couldn't help myself; I had to do it. Also, I put in a sad, departing moment with the family. I hope you all enjoyed it and look forward to the next chapter!)

[psiroller]

My Boy (We Don't See Each Other Much)

a third fic request from unkat has reached me for some gamer au shenanigans. cool, i thought, nice low stakes goofin off fun time au. lets put some military industrial complex in there

cw: institutionalized homophobia, vague references to USAmerican military operations in the 2000's, gamer lingo

The raid was a resounding success by their guild's lax standards. Chilchuck managed to pull a rare light armor piece he'd been looking for, finally catching him up to the modern game; he was surprised by how much damage the standard grinding mobs were doing to him now, even if his defense was always going to be lower than the tanks and fighters he partied with. Laios landed the biggest critical hit he'd ever seen; the broadsword Chilchuck nabbed for him off the Auction House was working well for him. He was clearly still riding the high, humming the victory fanfare under his breath as he took inventory and milled about with Senshi, comparing the ingredients they’d collected, trading amongst themselves. It was late, though, close to Senshi’s prep hours. Marcille was fighting against the cozy lethargy that followed a glass of wine and swiftly losing. Falin had already logged out to take a shower and head to bed, stopping by Laios’ door for a hug goodnight.

Laios went right back to the desktop after he shut the door. He pulled his headset back on and heard the familiar sound of Chilchuck’s raspy inhale and then a long, satisfied exhale.

“Chilchuck!” Laios said, too eagerly. “You’re still up?”

“No, I’m fast asleep,” Chilchuck drawled. Laios snorted and threw a rock at Chilchuck’s head. It passed through harmlessly; neither of them wanted the hassle of dedicated PVP. Maybe Laios wasn’t as keen on roleplaying as Marcille and Falin were, but the roleplaying server had been a lot kinder to him than the standard ones he usually played on.

“You were right about the sword,” Laios tittered. “I really have to start doing the math instead of just looking at bigger numbers—uh, focusing on how sharp the blade is, I mean.”

Chilchuck coughed through a laugh, leaning away from the mic so that it didn’t blow Laios’ eardrums out. “I think some of the guides are a little out of date,” Chilchuck said, relaxed enough to drop character. Marcille was still nearby, though the AFK symbol appeared under her name; the elf she played nodded off, ears drooping.  “Critical chance used to be calculated with this really convoluted system that also included timers, so there were only so many crits you could get in the span of a few minutes,” he went on. “They updated it recently so that you roll for a critical every hit.”

“Oh, thank God,” Laios said. “On a timer? How long did raids use to take?”

“Oh, upwards of four hours.” Chilchuck said casually. Laios sputtered. “I know, I know. I guess people had more free time back then… though with how people run multiple raids a night now, I guess it’s down to how committed you are.”

“So critical hit percentage is the thing I should focus on, then.”

“For your build, yeah.”

“Why does everyone recommend focusing on damage per second?”

“It’s a recent change, I think it got pushed out just before you signed up. They’ve tweaked it a lot, so people tend to get confused on how it works now, as it gets buffed and nerfed. Attack and attack speed used to be connected to the same value, so there are other ways you can focus on dealing damage instead of just right clicking the dragon and watching one of twelve timers tick down.” Chilchuck smiled and took another drag. “I think they’re trying to freshen things up a little. I like the changes.”

“Really? Everyone in the forums talks about how much they hate it.”

“If they’re old enough to be using the forums, they’re old enough to hate their favorite thing changing,” Chilchuck laughed.

“But not you,” said Laios. There was a warmth there that Chilchuck didn’t see a reason for.

“Eh.” Chilchuck’s ears burned under his headset. “Maybe a little bit. They don’t make shooters like they used to.” There was a pause. “Oh, right, you don’t like those.”

“Just the super hoo-rah military ones,” Laios breathed. “I can do Team Fortress 2. That one’s pretty fun.”

“Oh! I play that with—a friend, sometimes,” Chilchuck stammered. “Do you… I’m still kind of wired. I got a day off tomorrow. Do you—”

“Yeah!” His mic clipped. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Wait, you don’t have a test tomorrow or anything, do you?”

“… No.”

“I don’t like that hesitation.”

Laios huffed and puffed and logged out of Dungeon Divers with little warning, but usernames were exchanged and soon Laios’ avatar (a dragon, what else) popped up in Chilchuck’s scant friend list, nestled between Dan and May.

“I didn’t think you’d be cool enough to play TF2,” Laios teased.

“Cool people play TF2? I thought it was all screaming toddlers.”

“There are a few of those, yeah,” Laios admitted.

“I played the original game. It was a lot different. I don’t really keep up with it these days, but…”

“No worries,” Laios chirped. “I’ll take care of you.”

Chilchuck felt something zip down his spine. “I’m not that bad.”

They played three matches with the usual late night crowd, and it was a miracle if Chilchuck could stay alive for longer than a minute or two, let alone get a kill. Laios, on the other hand, clawed up every scoreboard and sat at the top. He started with Sniper; Chilchuck followed him while waiting for his respawn timer to run out, flicking between first and third person views. He watched as opponents’ heads would pop like grapes the moment they touched Laios’ reticle, faster than Chilchuck’s eyes could tell his brain to move his fingers.

“Okay, maybe I’m pretty bad,” Chilchuck admitted. “Compared to you.”

Laios missed a shot and sputtered. “I’m concentrating…!” A Spy knifed him, and Chilchuck could hear Laios whack his mouse against the table in frustration. Chilchuck laughed.

“Relax, that’s your first one this round,” he teased. “Your reflexes are crazy. Maybe I’m getting too old for twitchy games like this.”

“The mechanics have changed a lot and all the tryhards are on,” Laios conceded, breathing out the annoyance. “I’ll switch to Heavy. Wanna be my Medic? I can keep more of an eye on you.”

Chilchuck sniffed at his demotion to pocket healer, but then at least he’d be getting assist kills. “Alright, fine.”

Many assist kills were had, and all was well. It was fun to watch Laios’ brain work, bobbing and weaving and jumping around. He played like May did, hyperfocused on the movement mechanics; Chuck’s wrists weren’t any good for that anymore, so he usually hung back to support anyway.

“So why TF2 and not Call of Duty?” Chilchuck asked between matches, lighting another cigarette in search of the now-elusive nicotine buzz. “Seems like you’re really good. You could probably go pro if you wanted.”

Chuck heard a rustling against the mic. Sounded like Laios fiddling with the thing, maybe rubbing his face. He heard a scratch of stubble.

“Eh. I just—don’t like the military aesthetic very much, or something,” Laios mumbled. “I, uh. I served, and it’s a little…”

Chilchuck coughed. “You served? As in, served in the army?”

“Yeah.” There was a chuckle from the other line. “What? Is it that surprising?”

“Well, you just never…” Chuck scratched at the nape of his neck. “You never said anything that made me think… I don’t know what I thought. You didn’t seem like the type.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Laios snorted. “I was a good shot, but not a good soldier, if that makes any sense?”

Chuck wet his dry lips and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t lock into the next game, and the queue dumped them out. Laios didn’t reset it.

“So you objected? Conscientious objection? Is that what it’s called?”

“That’s what it’s called, but uh… it takes a while to get that done if you enlisted voluntarily. You have to plead your case for it. I thought about it, but I didn’t get the chance.”

Chilchuck swallowed dryly, then tapped some ash out into the ceramic tray Patty made for him many Father’s Days ago. “So you were kicked out?”

“Discharged, yeah,” Laios sighed. His chair creaked as he leaned back, too. “Other than honorable.”

Chuck winced. “What did you do?”

There was that rustling again. “I, um. If you don’t ask, I don’t have to tell you.”

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I”—Chilchuck’s eyes went wide—"ohhh.”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously? They booted you over a thing like that?”

Laios laughed weakly. “It’s in the regulations.”

“Still? When there’s, like, five wars going on?”

“Yep. I got a little pamphlet about it and everything. It’s rarer these days, and most people now get let off with an honorable, but…” Laios sighed. “My case was a whole thing. I didn’t fit in great with the rest of my platoon to begin with, and I maybe… I maybe misread some signals. You get bored out there, you know. Lonely. Got a little too close to my bunky…” Laios cleared his throat. “He let me down easy, but I guess he said something to somebody. I don’t think he’d go straight to the brass, he told me he wouldn’t, but someone must have overheard and that counts as credible evidence, so…”

Laios popped his lips with a click of his tongue. Chilchuck was frozen, ashes falling from the end of his cigarette into the crevices of his already dirty keyboard. The cigarette had almost burned down to the filter; money burning up in unsmoked nicotine. “I was probably going to leave anyway,” Laios said, to fill the silence. “I didn’t like being out there. If anything it kept me from being stupid and going AWOL. But if you talk to the VA—or my dad, heh—I  might as well have.”

Laios wheezed. Chilchuck blinked some smoke out of his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette.

“Hang on, you were on active duty and they’re hassling you at the VA over healthcare?”

“Oh yeah. Anything less than a general discharge is going to get you some hassle. I’m still on general health insurance, lowest tier. I’m not on TRICARE.”

Chilchuck pinched the pressure point between his eyebrows. “There’s gotta be a way to appeal that.”

“There might be. But I’ve spent about 40 hours of my life on the phone with them since I got back, and I’m not keen on spending anymore.” Laios made a blech sort of noise, disgusted, a little childish. “I hate phone calls. Besides, they gave me some money for college, so it wasn’t a complete wash.”

“Small miracles,” Chilchuck mumbled.

“Yup,” Laios breathed. He drummed his fingers on his desk, loud enough to reach the mic. Then there were a couple rhythmic bongo slaps against the table, nervous. “Ready for another game?”

Chuck looked at his watch. It was 4:32 AM.

“Sure. Night’s still young,” he said, for lack of anything comforting to say. “Play Heavy again.”

“Okay,” Laios said, and there was a smile in his voice. So that was something.