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ymaohoh · 1 year ago

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Chrissy Cunningham is a Brat - Fic - Oneshot

Munson suddenly gripped hold of her ass so tightly she hissed. “If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to have to punish you.” Jason sees Chrissy and Eddie in the woods. Jason POV. Hellcheer Oneshot.

Word Count: 1,904

No plot. Just smut.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

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Well, your love is worse

Worse than cigarettes

Even if I had twenty in my hands

Jason Carver thought he knew his girlfriend.

Thought Chrissy Cunningham was just like him. They were from the same backgrounds - nice homes, rich parents, good traditional morals and ethics. They’d been boyfriend and girlfriend since junior year when he tied his letterman jacket around her shoulders and told her thought it was time they made it official. Over the course of that year they moved through the ranks and became really popular - he the hotshot athlete, she the pretty cheerleader - and when Chrissy made cheer captain in senior year he knew they were a cinch to be the King and Queen of Hawkins High. It was a cliche for a reason. His parents had met in a similar way.

And yeah that popularity came with side-benefits. And yeah he often abused those benefits because some kids needed a healthy dose of ass-whooping, you know? Needed to know which rung of the social ladder they belonged on. It stopped them from getting too big for their boots. He never did anything illegal but he sure bent some rules.

Chrissy didn’t know about any of that though and his team mates were sworn to secrecy. It was the same bro-code for their girlfriends. None of the teachers would dare make trouble either. His father was good friends with the school governors and would see they were fired if they dared try.

Chrissy was a good girl. She had the right attitude and ideals as him. She went to church and played at cheerleading and looked good and neat in her little uniform.

He would marry her after graduation. His parents would buy them a house nearby and she would give him a couple of kids and no talkback. She’d keep the house real nice while he went to college and in a few years he’d be fucking govenor. The wheels were already in motion. This has all been arranged before middle school.

So when Patrick told him he’d seen Chrissy talking to Eddie Munson of all people Jason told him he was tripping. Why would anyone want to speak to him?

Eddie Munson was a piece of shit trouble maker. Third generation trailer trash. A juvenile delinquent.

“I know what I saw, man. They were whispering together in the library just before first period. Chrissy near jumped into the air when she saw me.”

“Chrissy wouldn’t talk to that freak.”

“Want help finding him, Jase? Give him a reminder of what a creep he is?”

“Nah man. I need to talk to Chrissy first. Maybe he was just bugging her.”

What the hell?

But when he reached the cafeteria at lunch Chrissy wasn’t sitting at their usual table. She didn’t have one of her private tutoring sessions either. He glanced over at the freak table and his eyes narrowed when he saw Eddie wasn’t there either.

He stormed over and clapped one of the freshmen on the shoulder. Hard.

“Where’s your asshole leader?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t he be here making a jackass out of himself like usual?”

The kid with floppy black hair said, “Look man, he’s not here. I don’t know where he is. We don’t want any trouble.”

He asked around his table some more and eventually got wind of a clue. People wanted to help Jason (even if they needed a little encouragement sometimes). A passing cheerleader overheard (Stacey something) and said they thought they saw Chrissy out by the football fields just a few minutes ago. She’d been heading out towards the forest. There was a meeting spot down that way, she added, and Eddie Munson sold weed there.

Jason waved away Patrick’s offer of help and stormed over. He didn’t need back up to take on Eddie Munson.

He’d beat the shit out of that creep if he was selling weed to Chrissy. Or even if he wasn’t. What if he’d lured Chrissy out here on some made up pretence and was now bothering her? Chrissy was sometimes way too trusting for her own good.

I’ll save you, Chrissy.

He followed Stacey’s directions and crept through the woods. He’d never been out here before. He couldn’t see any damn bench.

But then he heard voices. He heard Chrissy’s voice! She sounded weird. Breathless almost.

He drew closer and peered through the trees. The scene before him made him pause. His insides turned to raging fire.

Jason had told her once that “ Good girls like you don’t go near creeps like Eddie Munson .” She hadn’t asked him why.

Chrissy was with Munson, alright.

Oh, this body high

Gives me sleepless nights

It's a million times what any drug could give

And my red eyes

They go twice as wide

It might look like pain but to me it's bliss

They were sitting at the old picnic bench. Or rather, Chrissy was sitting on the top of the picnic bench with her bare knees splayed wide. Her short green and white cheerleading skirt was hiked up so high that he could just about see the creamy skin of her ass.

And Eddie the Freak was standing right in between her legs.

Chrissy had her back to Jason so he could make out Munson’s arms wrapped around her waist. He was holding her so tightly the line of his leather jacket was pressed against Chrissy’s cheer sweater. At least she wasn’t wearing Jason’s God-damn letterman jacket today. He stared at the entwined couple in horror.

Jason didn’t know why he remained hidden. Maybe he just wanted to hear for himself what the hell was going on.

“Eddie…” she sighed in a voice he had never heard before. She never said his name like that. “We have to be more careful. Patrick almost saw us this morning.”

“Fuck Patrick. Fuck your boyfriend.” Munson’s voice was unrecognisable too. Low and raspy.

“If they find out what we’re doing, they’ll hurt you. You know they will. We have to keep this a secret.”

“It’s hard, Chriss. You know how riled up I get when I see you. Especially when you’re in that cheerleading uniform. How’s a man supposed to focus in class when those lips of yours look so fucking delictable. Makes me just want to taste them.”

Jason watched as they began to kiss but it wasn’t anything like how he kissed Chrissy. Chrissy usually held still when they made out, but this Chrissy was kissing Munson like she couldn’t get enough of him. He could see the way she opened her mouth wide for him so he could slip in his tongue.

Munson nipped at her neck and she giggled. “Eddie! You’re not listening to me.”

Munson’s hands were roaming across her back and down to her hips. Chrissy reached down and took his hand, stilling it.

“I’m listening, baby. We have to be more careful. No more little looks. No more notes. No way the school can find out that goodie two-shoes Chrissy Cunningham likes being fucked by the freak Eddie Munson.”

He rocked his hips up against her and she gasped at the impact.

“Like that, baby?”

“Mmm. You know I do.”

“Say it then. Tell me how much you like it.”

Jason couldn’t see but he could guess from the look on Munson’s face she was pulling one of her cute little pouts. She raised her chin defiantly. “Or what? You’ll walk away? I know you like this too. I can feel how much you like it. You’re fucking rock hard for me.”

Munson suddenly gripped hold of her ass so tightly she hissed.

“If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to have to punish you.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me? Pull my hair?”

Munson ceased his movements and though he kept hold of her, he drew his hips back a little to put some distance between them.

Jason hated how Chrissy seemed to groan at that.

“You love it when I spank you, Chriss. You always get so fucking wet from it. Remember a month ago at Reefer Rick’s where you came so beautifully on my cock? I couldn’t believe how wet you were. You made the most pretty noises, baby.”

“I remember Eddie.”

“Then what did we do?”

“I put your cock in my mouth and you went down on me at the same time.”

“You tasted so good, Chriss. Like strawberries and cream. You were gagging ‘round my cock, babe. You got it so far down that little throat.”

Munson began tracing circles down her thighs. Chrissy was leaning into him brazenly, reaching again for contact with his body.

Jason didn’t recognise this Chrissy at all. It was like she was one of those girls on porn tapes. He heard the gentle clink of metal as Chrissy began undoing the heavy belt. The noise of a zip being dragged down was almost obscene.

“Oh Eddie, please. I want you now.”

“What? One look at my cock and you fall in line? Tell me what I want to hear.”

They kissed again and it was passionate and needy. Chrissy was almost shaking from want.

“I love being fucked by Eddie Munson.”

“You missed this cock didn’t you, princess? Tell me how much you missed it,” Eddie said, his voice low and quiet. He traced her face with his fingers and tipped her chin up

“I missed it so much. I couldn’t even pay attention in class. All I could think about is how much I want you.”

“Good girl.”

Munson dragged down Chrissy’s underwear and shoved it in his back pocket. He once again wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him. His other arm snaked under her knee, pushing it back so he could get as deep as possible.

Jason heard Chrissy hiss as Munson’s cock slid inside her.

“Fuck, Eddie. You’re so big. You feel so big inside me.”

“That’s it, baby. Take every inch in.”

“It feels so good.”

Munson began rutting up into her and Chrissy dug her nails into his shoulders. She then twisted a hand up into his long curls which made Munson groan.

“I know. It’s why you keep coming back. Fucking Carver won’t do this, will he? Wants to wait until he’s got that ring on your finger.”

“ Eddie …”

“But Carver won’t be able to do this, Chriss. It won’t feel like this.”

“No,” she moaned. “You’re so fucking perfect, Eddie. You fit inside me so good.”

“That’s it, Chriss.”

“Make me come Eddie. Make me scream.”

“Hold onto me, baby…I’ve got you.”

Jason couldn’t watch anymore.

Fuck this.

A big part of him wanted to charge over there and knock that disgusting smug look off Munson’s face. Wanted to wipe away that look of utter need from Chrissy’s. But he didn’t. He turned away and stormed off back towards the school.

Fuck that freak. Fuck that slut. They were welcome to each other.

He didn’t see Eddie’s gaze on his back. Or the winning smirk that played on his lips.

Well, if it's unhealthy then I don't give a damn

'Cause even if it kills me, I'll always take your hand

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A/N: A/N: You know, writing for Jason ain't fun. He's an asshole but the actor who plays him is so nice in interviews. Ah well. Enjoy some Hellcheer fucking. Lyrics are from Unhealthy by Anne-Marie and Shania.

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy cunningham #eddissy #pure smut #no plot #Jason Carver POV #brat kink

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unravelingwhy · 4 months ago

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hey, i graduated!

i never really was smart nor creative. my brain barely could catch a thought. a million times i asked myself why couldn't i be like others?

why couldn't i achieve the same thing as them? succeed like them?

unlike those who grew up knowing the path they wanted to take, i went to school from primary to college, not knowing what i wanted to do when i grow up. there was no clear path that revealed itself to me. a goal that was set before me.

i had no aspirations nor goals. my achievements as a student aren't really anything remarkable.

i failed a mathematics, enough that it threatened me in moving forward academically, yet i graduated high schools with honors. i cried a lot because i thought i was dumb, and so did many people around me thought so. and i believed them as well.

college came and even then, by pure mercy and miracle, i passed the entrance exam of state university in my country. college made me feel insecure.

there were a lot of times i would look at my block mates and think to myself, why can't i be like them? i'd always imagine a confident version of myself, unafraid and proactive. instead, i was everything i hated.

that maybe, if i was a bit more energetic, i'd be more involved. that if i were a little bit hardworking, there's so much i could do.

but i didn't. so much happened in little time that demotivated me.

year after year, i was a consistent dean's lister, i graduated with a latin honor—and yet none of that made me feel i was smart.

but what is really being smart?

i don't know.

however, if there's one thing i learned in college is that only you could carry yourself; so be gentle with yourself.

#unravelingwhy

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lilypadthaii · 7 months ago

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promise | iwaoi

short haikyuu fanfic, 1.2k wc!

tropes: unrequited love, angst. pairing: iwaizumi hajime x oikawa toru. i don’t really like this but enjoy!!

iwaizumi hajime has never liked making promises. he tells himself it’s because they’re too childish, but, really, he’s just afraid of breaking one. that’s why he only makes promises when he’s sure he can go through with it. thus, the few he does make, he makes sure to remember.

that’s why he hasn’t forgotten the promise he made to oikawa nearly a decade ago. he remembers exactly how it happened, too.

they were walking out of the gym together after another grueling practice. it was silent, and iwaizumi was savoring the scent of the night air and the feeling of the breeze against his skin. he was startled when oikawa suddenly spoke up next to him.

“hey, iwa-chan, will you make me a promise?”

iwaizumi raised his brow at the spontaneity of the question, indicating for him to elaborate further.

“don’t look at me like that!” oikawa whined, “i just wanted to ask you to be the best man at my wedding.”

iwaizumi hesitated for just an instant as he considered the question. it wouldn’t be difficult to fulfill, as he was sure that oikawa would keep contact with him even after they’d part ways after high school.

“sure.”

oikawa’s face, which previously held a pleading expression, broke into a wide grin, and iwaizumi couldn’t stop himself from smiling a little at the sight.

now, as he stared at the wedding invitation on his nightstand, all he could think was that he had never regretted a decision more.

the top of the envelope read, in handwriting once so familiar to iwaizumi, “oikawa tooru and furukawa hana request the pleasure of your company at their wedding on april 24th. see disclosed letter for more information.”

as he skimmed the information on the letter, his mind wandered back to the night oikawa first introduced his soon-to-be wife to him.

it was at one of their annual reunions. after their graduation, things had gotten busy for the both of them, but they still tried to make time to meet up occasionally.

iwaizumi waited outside the restaurant as he checked the time on his phone. the location had been chosen by oikawa, and it was more extravagant than usual. likely because he’d just landed another profitable modeling gig.

he couldn’t help but feel a little left behind. he was still in college, and while he wasn’t struggling financially, he didn’t feel like he had too much going for him. he wasn’t even sure about what he wanted to do as his career. meanwhile, oikawa was competing professionally and modeling for renowned brands across the world.

his thoughts were interrupted by oikawa’s voice calling his name. he looked up to greet him, but paused when he saw an unfamiliar figure standing next to oikawa.

recognizing the questioning expression on iwaizumi’s face, he cleared his throat and said, “this is my girlfriend, hana. hana, this is iwaizumi, my best friend.”

as iwaizumi said his greetings, he took in the woman’s appearance. she was pretty, and the polite smile she gave him was enough explanation for him as to why oikawa liked her.

he was happy, or at least he should’ve been, that his best friend had found his special someone. but he felt a discomfort in his stomach, one that lingered there for the rest of the meal that they shared together.

he thought about it a lot that night, after he returned to his apartment. he thought about how many relationships oikawa had been in in the past, and how none of them ever ended up going anywhere. he found himself thinking, possibly even hoping, that this time would be the same as all the previous ones.

he pushed the thought out of his head as quickly as it came, but a small part of it stayed, giving him just a sliver of hope. for what, exactly, he wasn’t sure.

it became clear over the next few months that that wasn’t the case. she went to almost all of their annual meetups, and the two of them seemed to only be getting closer and more in love.

the nauseous feeling in his stomach during the meals they shared only got worse as well, and the indigestion he’d get afterwards became unbearable.

he told himself that the feeling was jealousy; he was just jealous that oikawa had found his person and he hadn’t yet, that he needed to get a girlfriend of his own.

he began intentionally missing their get-togethers. just a few every once in a while, then not going to any of them all together. iwaizumi convinced himself it was because he needed to focus on college and his career path, and that oikawa was getting busy as well.

he’d gone on many blind dates in the time period following, hoping to find a partner. but he didn’t click with any of them, couldn’t bring himself to feel anything. so he gave up, despite his best efforts.

the memory of his promise to oikawa hung around in the back of his head like an annoying pest, and he hoped, even prayed, that it wouldn’t become an obligation he’d have to fulfill in the near future.

but, of course, fate is cruel.

as he reached the bottom of the invitation, he noticed a small note, written by none other the groom himself.

“you promised you’d come. we’re expecting to see you there!” followed by a messy winky face, identical to the one oikawa would make when he got caught for doing or saying something stupid.

he sat on the side of his bed, staring at the letter for what felt like an eternity, daring it to vanish into thin air with his mind. he contemplated not going hundreds of times, and reread oikawa’s message an even greater number of times.

in the end, he’d find himself going to the nearest tailor’s shop to get himself a suit a week later. april 24th was only getting closer, after all.

when he arrived at the venue, and saw the familiar wide grin that spread across oikawa’s face when he saw him, iwaizumi knew it was worth it.

when they made small talk as if they hadn’t not spoken in almost a year, and oikawa patted his back as he said, “let’s catch up sometime, i’ve missed you,” iwaizumi knew he would’ve regretted missing it.

when he stood side by side with the groom at the altar and watched the his love-filled expression and watery eyes as the bride walked down the aisle, he realized that all this time, he wasn’t just jealous of their relationship. it wasn’t a competitive feeling like envy like he’d thought it was. no, in reality, he was simply in love with oikawa toru.

when they kissed after the officiant finished his speech, he made a second promise to oikawa: he would never let him find out he was in love with him.

divider creds: @v6que !!

#haikyuu iwaoi #iwaoi #iwaoi fanfiction #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa toru #aoba johsai #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfic

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popcorngirl85 · 4 months ago

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Mad men Peggy in the year 2000

Peggy just wrapped up speaking at Princeton University. The graduates adored her speech. She had fifty of them follow her afterwards to Starbucks for an autograph.She was simply awestruck as they formed a line around her patio table as she sat nursing an iced caramel macchiato with extra caramel.She had those kids captivated by her words. Usually at the few college graduations she had attended (none of them her own),the kids and parents alike looked bored shitless,as an unsuspecting speaker droned on like Kevin's annoying teacher from the Wonder Years.Peggy received a ten minute standing ovation at the end when she quipped," If you don't like what's being said about you, change the conversation."She'd lifted that gem from a former boss and carried it around for years.She had the grads in stitches with the joke about the penguin,the intern and the priest that walked into the bar. Peggy hadn't thought it was that risque, pg-13 maybe.It was innocent compared to the garbage she heard daily while working as a girl friday on Madison Avenue forty years ago.The president of the college and several female board members were outraged,faces beet red with anger as she finished.

The audience and the students were still clapping enthusiastically as Peggy was asked to exit the premises immediately.Which was pretty much sucked for two reasons.One,was it really her fault that at least one college administrator was too idiotic and lazy to skim through her notes ?

They could have told her ahead of time what had to be edited out.Peggy's assistant had only faxed it to them three separate times.Two,she'd snuck downstairs earlier where the reception would be held and stole a peek at the terrific looking cake . The red roses on top were calling her name. Now she wouldn't get any.:(

Maybe it was Peggy's dark sense of humor or her no bs approach to life that got her into so much trouble. Or that for the past 60 years, every day had been a bad hair day.It always seemed to be women of her social standing and age that couldn't stand Peggy. She got along with older adults and younger people ,especially the gothic ones with the blue hair and all the piercings. They were usually kind of shy like she had been when she was young and her dad had passed away.

Peggy wanted to say to these woman, who pointed and whispered then split up whenever she came close," Hey gals, we are the same woman,different packaging.We play for the same team. I marched for woman's rights all the way to Washington, too. I still don't wear a bra but probably should have for gravity's sake.Let's work together and make something beautiful! "

Before passing away from breast cancer last fall.Joan, one of Peggy's fellow partners at the ad agency for almost three decades came up with a theory. When Joan was fading she hadn't wanted to chat about the horrible things the cancer was doing to her body, or what a bummer it was she wouldn't live to see her son get married.

So they talked about everything else." You are much too smart and intense for you own good. People,especially other women hate being showed up. That's why I always play dumb. Also with all your money ,your plaid clothes are (gasp) interesting.That is why I was so mean to you when we first started working together.I was threatened and scared you were there to take my job. "

It is so weird how relationships end up. Peggy had been one of a handful of folks who knew Joan was on her way out and not on an extended vacation in the Poconos like mostly everyone else had been told. Joan despised being pitied more than anything in the world.

Just then, Peggy made a decision not stew in a mass of self pity like she usually did. Who cared if a few politically correct strangers were mad at her. She was lucky.Most of the people from Peggy's old neighborhood were on assistance of some sort,three generations stuffed into an apartment the size of a walk - in closet.

Many of them hadn't graduated high school . Quite a few couldn't read. Everyone thought she arrived when they found out Peggy poured coffee for rich guys and got to pull the mail cart.

How blessed she was that one of the execs from middle management was impressed when she described the trashcan full of lipsticked tissues as a basketful of kisses. That Americans liked the Dunkin Donuts slogan she and a team of skilled professionals came up with. She had made her life a success story and nobody could take that away from her.

#mad men #Peggyolsonlegend

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sme7ktjun · 6 months ago

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I am, man… why do you start with that, I mean common, you know I’m the mini can, as in pussy zouşen from Kurdistan.

My name is for the fam, to build a new world where we’re nor slaves nor gods to what was with them.

Profits? Really? Adam and Eve.

Steve? Could you no I mean can you call me please?

Fuck came outta commercials

But are commercials even real when there is none other then less, yes bless we would’ve match but, black don’t crack.

You would even have our tv screen from our fam, lg leef langer, lach en gein.

Agga wat moet ik zeggen als ik; me, mason,Ill.

Without the I ofcourse. As in fuck off, ehe, what you mean by fuck off, you don’t know me the ice cream man sabotage.

1. Penny

2 twenty

50 cent

I didn’t miss Eminem, I also asked for the disco tap.

Tap water, free American

This world is again at war so we have to defend.

Not fight back what already cracked.

The egg, the moon the sun the last command.

Commandent what do you say about stratetagically becoming stronger again.

First they come with be the voice of them.

The other side which is their bloodline

Still keep on playing slithernn

Man I started with that because I was out of pants.

Yes crack at the joke that I did went to the casino high as fuck in my blouse,’ you pronounce it like blouse.

And only my underpants, underwear was still there. The ho’s not to offense would look like OMFG IT IS HIM.

Whatever fame came

Later in was just some sanctions

No alibi is alibi ne tobi Jeff

Miss all of my good as wel as the evil demonic angels that would laugh, as wel as connect with men.

Likeminded as me but they could never compare themselves as myself.

Where they did had the money, the car and the home.

The pool was to school

Highschool graduate college dropout

University understanding the universe and gravity how it completely fails when you play with maggnets

Maggots? Nah never saw them. Not in our country so China it’s really not trendy to eat crispy insecten.

Should I keep going on?

Let’s save some for my nemesense

im salzkammergut

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thevachak · 2 years ago

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youtube

'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs says

This is a prepared text of the Commencement address delivered by Late Steve Jobs, then the CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, on June 12, 2005.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But 10 years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backward 10 years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents' garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4,000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down — that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world's first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: It was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

#Youtube

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sataniquepanique · 2 years ago

Text

Hate Me.

Summary: Your cousin Gareth asks you to be Corroded Coffin's new manager, but you and Eddie can't seem to get along.

Genre: enemies to lovers, smut, angst

Warnings: Smut 18+ ONLY, slight dom/sub situation, unprotected sex, hair pulling, drinking, smoking.

Pairing: Eddie Munson X F/reader

Word Count: 6.1k

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Tuesday nights at The Hideout were fucking lame. The only people that came to the bar on a weeknight were drunks and degenerates, not the ideal crowd for talent scouts. Gareth and the rest of Corroded Coffin had made a deal with the owners of the place about a year ago, and they were able to play every Tuesday night as long as they were done by 10.

Recently the band had been getting a little restless, and they started talking about branching out and securing better paying gigs. But between school, band practice, and Hellfire Club the guys didn’t have much time to devote to promotion, and honestly they didn’t even know where to start.

The new school year had begun a few weeks ago, and fall was already underway, painting Hawkins in a warm amber glow. Gareth and the rest of the guys sat on a table outside of Hawkins High, trying to think of some sort of strategy for finding better opportunities for the band. After the 5th dead-end idea, Jeff put his head down on the table and groaned, “This is fucking pointless…”.

Eddie was quiet and stared at the sky while smoking a cigarette and trying to blow smoke rings into the air. Something clicked in Gareth’s head and his eyes shot over to Eddie, “Wait. Guys. I think I have an idea.”

Jeff raised his head and met Gareth’s gaze.

“Ok, hear me out. My cousin just graduated college in May, and has some sort of degree in communications or management or something…”

“— are they even interested in managing a band?” Eddie interrupted, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah? I don’t see why not? We have the same taste in music and always talk about Corroded Coffin and how it’s going.”

The four of them sit in silence for a few beats, mulling it over.

“Fuck it, let’s try it…” Eddie threw his cigarette on the ground and stood up from the table,

“…bring them with you to The Hideout on Tuesday.”

——

The Hideout is gross. The old wooden floor is wet with some mixture of substances causing your Doc Martens to keep sticking when you walk, and it reeks of stale beer and cigarettes.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” you think as the bartender hands you a beer in a scuffed up glass. The stage setup is in the corner of the bar, with a few hightop tables scattered around. You take a seat towards the back so that you could observe the entire production without getting in the way, not that there was a huge crowd or anything, this place is fucking dead.

By 8:00 a few more locals had come in, and filled in some more of the tables near the stage. This made you feel better, as you had begun to get secondhand embarrassment thinking of your cousin’s band playing to an empty club. Gareth walks out and starts setting up his drums, followed by the rest of the band. The two of you were always close growing up even though he is a few years younger than you, and you only lived a few towns over so you spent a lot of time together. Once you had gone away to college though you didn’t see him as much, but still managed to mail him mixtapes of new bands you had discovered when you were in Indianapolis. Job prospects had been slim to none since you had graduated a few months ago. Everyone seemed to want to hire someone with experience, of which you had little, so when Gareth called offering for you to manage Corroded Coffin you jumped at the chance to beef up your resume. They weren’t paying you much, basically just gas money to get to gigs, but you didn’t mind as long as you got the experience.

Finally, after 20 minutes of set up, Gareth takes his place behind the drum kit and they start playing. No intro, no hello, just metal. You’d never met the other guys in Corroded Coffin before, only hearing stories from your cousin about their D&D conquests and Hideout gigs. Their music wasn’t bad actually, which somewhat surprises you, and makes you a little more confident about your decision to help out. Scanning the bar, it doesn’t seem like anyone else was particularly invested in the live band. Most of the patrons look like regulars, who were already pretty fucked up and oblivious.

You tap the toe of your boot against the table stand, watching the boys thrash around on stage. The tall one with the guitar catches your attention. Dark curls bouncing as he nods along to the rhythm, plucking wildly at the strings. He moves closer towards your side of the stage, and you can’t help but stare at his hands. How quick and efficient they are, gliding over each string, the rings on his fingers shining under the hazy lights. You wonder what else those fingers could do.

Ew, gross. He’s in high school, he’s probably like, Gareth’s age. Knock it off.

You look up at his face to find his dark eyes staring at you, the tip of his tongue poking out in careful concentration, not just on the notes, but on you.

After 30 minutes, Corroded Coffin announces their final song, and you quickly finish your second beer and head outside where you were supposed to meet Gareth. Around the back of the building, you lean against the cold brick wall and light a cigarette, staring up at the stars. The back door slams open and you see the boys start to trickle out, lugging their equipment with them toward a van parked by the back fence. They walk past, not noticing you under the cover of darkness. Gareth meticulously puts his drums away in the van, and turns around to let the other guys add their equipment as well, when he spots you leaning against the building. You give him a little smile pushing yourself off the wall, and start making your way across the parking lot. He pulls you into a tight hug.

“DUDE! I didn’t even see you in the bar!” He says, squeezing you as tight as he can. You choke out a laugh.

“You didn’t see me amongst the throngs of eager fans?” You joke as he let you go. He elbows you playfully and walks you over to the van.

“Hey guys!” He announces, as the other boys turn around, “This is my cousin. She’s our new manager.”

You give a little wave, “Hey, my names Y/N. It’s nice to meet you all, Gareth has told me a lot about you.”

Two of the boys introduce themselves, and seem genuinely happy about your investment in Corroded Coffin. The third one with the curly hair you recognize from earlier, seems apprehensive, and frankly standoffish as he eyes you up from the back of the group.

“This is your cousin?” He points at you incredulously, looking over at Gareth.

“…is there a problem?” You say, becoming agitated by his attitude.

“No, I was just expecting a dude honestly.” He shrugs, “Do you even know anything about managing a metal band?”

“You must be Eddie Munson.” You piece together the bits that Gareth had told you about him. The attitude, the hair, the tattoos.

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He gives you a dramatic little gesture of a bow.

“Yeah, we’re gonna knock that sexist bullshit off immediately.” You counter, not appreciating the nickname.

Eddie’s eyes narrow, “Oh, she’s got a mouth on her…” he says sarcastically while he pulls out a beer from the back of the van, cracking it open using a lighter as leverage.

“Aren’t you still in high school…?” You quip, furrowing your brows at him and motioning towards the bottle in his hand.

“Technically, yes. But I’ve stuck around for an extra two years to keep these guys company.” He gestures to the rest of the band, giving you a shit-eating grin.

You whip around and stare at your cousin. “Gary, you can’t be fucking serious—“

“—GARY?!” Eddie chokes on his beer mid-sip.

Gareth blushes, “…my family are the only ones that call me Gary…”

“Sorry, Gareth, is this a fucking joke? I’m not going to manage your band if this 20 year old super-senior is going to treat me like an asshole.” You spit, as you turn you head and glare at Eddie.

“…I’ll talk to him, I promise…” Gareth whispers as he pulls you away towards your car.

“Bye babe! See you at the next gig!” Eddie calls after you sarcastically, smirking. You spin around and give him the finger as you walk away.

How was it possible to hate someone this much, after just meeting them moments prior?

——

A few days had passed since you saw Corroded Coffin perform for the first time. After meeting the band, specifically Eddie, you were now regretting this entire undertaking. Nevertheless, you made a promise to Gareth that you would at least try to help. So here you are, making calls and inquiring about booking the band for some gigs other than The Hideout. You haven’t made much progress, but you did book them for something this Saturday at a bar in the next town over. It was more their scene, catering to metalheads and more alternative music. They also offered to keep them on the books for reoccurring dates if they were any good. Feeling slightly accomplished, you call Gareth to tell him the good news. He lets you know the rest of the guys were over for band practice so you’d be able to tell them all at once if you wanted to stop by. You throw on an old Iron Maiden shirt over your jeans, pull on your boots, and run out the door.

Pulling up to your cousins house, you see the guys practicing in the garage with the door open. You steel your nerves as you sit in your car, trying to calm yourself so you don’t try and punch Eddie Munson in the fucking jaw.

Finally you get it together enough to hop out and walk up to the garage, the band stops playing as you sit down on one of the amps.

“Hey Y/N!” Jeff greets you with a friendly smile, which you greatly appreciate. You smile back, as you cross your legs.

“I have some good news,” you have the boys undivided attention, except for Eddie who is tuning his guitar and refusing to make eye contact.

“I booked you guys at The Underground this Saturday. It’s only for one night, but the owner said if you’re good he can keep bringing you back. The pay isn’t great, but it’s way better than what the Hideout was giving you.”

Jeff leans over the drum set to high five Gareth, and then looks over at Eddie who doesn’t seem phased at all.

“…are you okay with this?” You trail off, breaking the awkward tension between the two of you.

“Sure. Whatever we need to do to get ourselves out there. Now if you don’t mind, I’d love to keep practicing.” Eddie stares at you with a blank expression. His dark eyes make you shift uncomfortably under their gaze.

What is wrong with you? Why are you letting him get to you?

“Cool…I, uh…I’ll see you guys on Saturday then? 7pm sharp, please.” You give Gareth a wave as you head back to your car. Sliding into the drivers seat you look through your front window at the garage and see that Eddie is staring at you while playing his guitar. The emotion behind his eyes is bizarre.

Is that hatred or…lust? No. It’s definitely pure loathing, right?

You shake your head at the thought of Eddie fucking Munson lusting after you, and pull away towards the direction of your apartment.

——

Saturday came up quickly. Earlier in the week you had created some flyers promoting the band and hung them around town, dropping some off at the venue to distribute as well. You hope this shit brings in more offers, or at least brings in a better crowd than The Hideout.

You’re nervous about tonight, so you put on some Motley Crue while you get ready, turning it up loud enough to drown out your intrusive thoughts. Since The Underground was a metal club you don’t want to dress too stuffy, so you decide on a short black slip dress, your Docs and a leather jacket. Throwing caution to the wind, you also do your makeup for once, opting for a simple cat eye and a bright red lip to break up all of the black in your outfit. Sighing in the mirror, you silently pray that Eddie doesn’t start shit tonight and head out to your car.

You pull up to the club and immediately see that there is nowhere to park, and your heart skips a beat. You circle around back and finally see a spot a few feet away from Eddie’s van. Hopping out, Gareth runs up to you and you can feel the excitement radiating from him.

“Did you see how many people are here?!” He grabs your hand and drags you over to the van.

Smiling at the rest of the group, you clap your hands together and put on a serious face. “Okay! Obviously this is a much bigger crowd than you’re used to, but don’t let it freak you out. You guys just need to kill it, and we can make this a regular thing—“

“—Oh is that all?” Eddie mocks you.

“How did you get this many people here?” Jeff deflects, unloading some equipment.

“I printed some flyers, and I sort of just…put them around anywhere I could.” You shrug, pulling out a flyer from your bag and handing it to Jeff. He stares at it, studying your handiwork, until Eddie reaches over and snatches it from him.

“Did you make this?” He asks, not looking up from the paper.

“Yeah…it’s just something I came up with. I figured you guys needed a logo or something, so I used what very little art skills I have, and that’s what I came up with.” You blush, becoming suddenly uneasy by Eddie’s tone.

“We already have a logo. I made it when we first formed the band.” Eddie retorts, looking at you with complete disdain.

“Dude that logo sucks, it looks like a 5th grader drew it.” Jeff scoffs, “I love this new one, maybe we can make shirts!” He looks at you eagerly.

Eddie crumples up the flyer and throws it in the back of the van, slamming the door shut. “Lets fucking do this then.” He mumbles as he grabs his guitar case and pushes past you.

Gareth shoots you a sympathetic look, and you roll your eyes and follow them inside.

The Underground is packed. Standing room only. You walk in with the guys through the back door, and you watch as Eddie’s eyes widen the second he sees the crowd. He looks back at you for a brief second and you give him a half smile, secretly proud of yourself.

Corroded Coffin isn’t the only band on the line up for the night, there are a few playing afterwards which honestly probably contributed to the big crowd, but hey, any exposure is good exposure.

At 7:30, the guys go on stage and you find a spot against one of the support pillars on the side of the room. You watch as they flawlessly perform their entire set, but find yourself focusing on Eddie more than you want to. The kid was natural on stage. He has so much charisma and raw talent that it’s….attractive?

Jesus Christ, what?

You shake your head, but you can’t pull your eyes away, watching how his ringed fingers glide over the strings of his guitar, the light sheen of sweat making some of his curls stick to the side of his face. He finds you amongst the crowd and meets your eyes. You can feel heat rush into your face and you quickly look down at the floor.

Why are you getting so worked up? You hate him. You’re also his manager for fucks sake, you can’t act like this.

You hate him even more for making you feel this way.

Once their set is over, the boys come barreling off the stage to meet you. All of them smiling so big that it’s infectious. Even Eddie grins at you.

“You guys were amazing! There’s no way they won’t keep you on the roster.” You beam as you hug Gareth.

“We honestly couldn’t have done it without your help though,” Jeff claps you on the shoulder.

You look at Eddie, but he’s already picking up his guitar case and heading out to the van.

You grab some of Gareth’s drum equipment and help carry it out.

At the van, Eddie is loading in different gear as you walk up. He turns to see you carrying Gareth’s stuff, and quickly takes it from you.

“I got it…” he says quietly as you let go. You put your hands in your jacket pockets nervously.

“Hey uh…” he turns around and looks at you “…thank you. For doing this.”

Shocked at his sudden sincerity, you nod and give him a smile, “You’re welcome. You guys are good, you deserve to have bigger opportunities.”

He shuts the back of the van, and lights a cigarette.

The sudden silence between you is uncomfortable, so you pull out your own pack and put one between your mouth.

“Fuck, I lost my lighter…” you think as you pat down your jacket pockets.

Eddie holds his lighter out and clicks it, steadying the flame so you can lean in and light the cigarette perched between your lips. You inhale, and look up to find Eddie staring at you. Before you can say anything, the rest of the guys walk up and throw some shit in the van.

“Hey, if you guys want you’re more than welcome to come back to my apartment to celebrate. I have some beer, and we can order pizza or something.” You offer, scanning their faces for a response. The guys nod eagerly, except for Eddie who is stone faced and fishing his keys out of his vest pocket.

“Nah, I’m good.” He says nonchalantly as he turns to walk to the drivers side door.

“Oh come on, man.” Gareth pleads.

“I have other things to do. Better things to do.” He says, but he’s not looking at Gareth, he’s looking at you. You open your mouth to respond, but he’s already in the van starting the engine. You shake your head in disbelief and walk to your car with the rest of the guys in tow.

“What’s his fucking problem?” You blurt out, 4 beers in. You’re sitting on your couch with Gareth, while the other two boys are on the floor eating pizza. The topic of Eddie has come up, and you were tired of hiding the fact that he was royally pissing you off.

“I’m not sure, he’s not usually like this. He’s normally really goofy and fun.” Jeff says with a mouthful of food.

“Maybe he has a crush on you,” Gareth bats his eyelashes dramatically in your direction. You mimic a gag and stand up.

“Y’all are more than welcome to sleepover, but I’m going to bed.”

In your room, you close the door and fall onto your bed exhausted. Rolling over onto your back you stare at the ceiling and find yourself thinking about Eddie while you doze off.

——

The show at The Underground went so well that the owner calls you the next night to offer Corroded Coffin a spot opening for a band called Devil’s Advocate this Friday. They were a big band in the region, and drew a huge crowd wherever they played. You knew the guys would be ecstatic, so you call Gareth to tell him you were coming over and to have the other guys meet you there.

Eddie was the last one to arrive to Gareth’s house. The rest of you were waiting in the garage, listening to Black Sabbath when he pulled up. Your eyes are closed while you listen, and you move your fingers aimlessly along with the song. The music was so loud you don’t even hear Eddie walk up and sit across from you.

“So.” He says loudly, getting your attention. Your eyes shoot open, and you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment that he had caught you playing air guitar.

You clear your throat and stand up, mentally shaking off your mortification.

“I called you all here to let you know I booked you for another gig at The Underground.”

“Ok…? You couldn’t have just told us this over the phone?” Eddie asks, visibly annoyed.

“Well, it’s kind of a bigger deal.” You say through clenched teeth, trying to not let him see you sweat. “I booked you to open for Devil’s Advocate this Friday.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open slightly, shocked. He quickly shuts it when Jeff yells “No fucking way!”

You look at Eddie and raise your eyebrows, giving him a look that says fuck you for doubting me. He just continues to stare at you, not with hatred or disdain, but with what you read as awe.

——

The Devil’s Advocate show was all the guys could talk about for the next week. You pick Gareth up from school on Friday afternoon, and drive him back to your apartment to get ready. After trying on a bunch of outfits, you settle on some black ripped jeans, a black lace camisole, and checkered flannel. Nice and easy.

You and Gareth meet the others at The Underground, and help them unload their gear from the back of Eddie’s van. You reach in to grab a guitar case when you feel a large hand grab your wrist to stop you.

“Don’t touch her.” Eddie mumbles in your ear as he takes ahold of the case and maneuvers it around you.

“Ok touchy…” you roll your eyes. You feel yourself getting annoyed, so you decide to join Gareth inside the bar.

The guys were nervous, even Eddie. You could tell by the way he wouldn’t stop fidgeting and spinning his rings.

“You guys got this. You’re gonna kill it, I know it.” You give them all a sympathetic smile when it’s time to go on, eyes lingering on Eddie for a beat longer than the others.

Eddie scoffs while he throws the strap of his guitar over his shoulder and takes his place on stage, turning on his charm when he gets to the mic.

The crowd loves them, cheering after every song. A few people in the front are really into it, pressing themselves against the stage, throwing up devil horns during particularly heavy breakdowns. Clutching a gin and tonic to your chest, you bob your head along to the music. You watch as a girl in the rowdy group at the front of the stage reaches her hand up towards Eddie. He sticks his tongue between his teeth and smiles at her, winking.

Your body runs cold for a second.

Are you…are you jealous?

He’s free to do whatever he wants, and whoever he wants. Why are you getting upset?

You choke your feelings down along with the rest of your drink.

When the guys finish their set, they come downstage to greet you as usual. All of them are riding high from their performance, and hug you, except for Eddie. He exits the stage from the opposite side, and you see him walk to the bar, followed by that girl from earlier. The other three boys start to load their gear into the van, and you decide that enough is enough. You were tired of playing this fucking game.

You make a beeline through the crowd, over to the bar and push up next to Eddie, who was downing a whisky on the rocks.

“Tequila please,” you ask the bartender politely, “actually, a double.”

He slides your drink across the wooden bar and you glance over at Eddie, who is looking at you through his peripheral.

You lift your glass as a small ‘cheers’, and down your shot in one burning gulp.

Slamming the glass down, you turn to Eddie, “Why do you fucking hate me.” You put your hand on your hip.

“I don’t fucking hate you…” he grumbles, keeping his eyes staring straight ahead, nursing his drink.

“You barely acknowledge me, and when you do you’re a total dick. All I’ve been trying to do is help you guys, and I’m always met with complete contempt from you.” You blurt out.

Eddie turns to you, shooting the rest of his drink and sliding the glass away.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you were the one that started all of this? That you were the one that acted like a total bitch, even though I was trying to be nice to you—”

“—you talked down to me when I met you! You doubted my abilities as a manager on the sole basis of my gender—“

“—that’s not what happened, don’t put words in my mouth—“

“—and then you called me a bunch of pet names, which infuriated me—“

“—BECAUSE I WAS FUCKING FLIRTING WITH YOU, IDIOT.”

You stop arguing and stare at him wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

“I was fucking flirting with you.” He ran his hand through his hair, “I saw you in the crowd at The Hideout while we were playing, I didn’t know you were Gareth’s cousin and I was completely enamored by you. When he introduced you, I didn’t mean that you couldn’t be our manager because you were a girl, I was just nervous and kept thinking about how bad I wanted to kiss you. And after you opened your mouth and showed me your little attitude problem…” he chuckled, “…I fell completely in love with you. I’ve been trying to distance myself ever since because I knew you didn’t feel the same.”

The bartender came back over and you ordered two more shots. You pass one to Eddie and clink the glasses together, knocking them back at the same time.

Grimacing as you swallow, you look at Eddie who hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

“You know that you’re a natural up there right?” Nodding towards the stage. “I see how the girls in the crowd look at you.” You peer over his shoulder to the girl from earlier who is now shooting daggers at you with her eyes.

He laughs, “Yeah I caught you looking during the last show.”

Blushing, you put your hand on Eddie’s arm, nervously playing with a string hanging from his sleeve. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t help it.”

Suddenly, you feel Eddie’s hands grab your face, and he kisses you. The shock makes you pull back slightly, but you quickly melt into him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Time stops, you were no longer in the bar, there was no music playing, no one else was around. Just you and Eddie. All you can feel is your lips moving slowly against his, his hand on your lower back, his body pressed against yours.

You accidentally let out a small gasp when he pulled away.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” He smirks.

“Y/N! Eddie!” You turn around to see Gareth making his way through the crowd. You both quickly remove your hands from each other and try your best to act normal.

“Hey, are you guys ready?” Gareth asks.

“Yeah, is it cool if I drive Y/N home?” Eddie looks between you and Gareth.

“You can take my car, I’ll come pick it up tomorrow at your house, ok?” You hand Gareth your keys, as he gives you a suspicious look.

“You guys…are getting along?” He questions.

“Yeah, we just want to go over some details for the next few shows.” You reassure him.

He raises his eyebrows and gives you both an apprehensive wave as he leaves.

Once your cousin was out of earshot, Eddie leans down and whispers in your ear, “Wanna come back to my place?”

You dig through Eddie’s cassette tapes in the glove compartment while you wait for him to finish loading his shit into the van. You pop in some Dio right as he hops in the drivers seat and starts the engine. You start to sing along, and he looks over at you, eyebrows raised. You smile and drum your fingers on your thighs. Eddie pulls out of the parking lot and reaches over and places his hand on yours, ceasing your drumming and interlocking your fingers with his.

——

Inside Eddie’s trailer, you walk around the living room, looking at all of the things on the walls, mugs, hats, plaques.

“Do you live here alone?” You ask as you dust your finger over a mug on a shelf.

“With my Uncle Wayne, he works nights so he won’t be home until morning.” He watches you move around the room.

You give him an understanding nod and lean against the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

He steps closer to you and brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. Your eyes close as you lean into his palm.

He pulls your face closer to his and kisses you, deeper than at the bar, eventually becoming hungrier.

You grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer into you, feeling him press you into the edge of the counter. He reaches down and pulls you up by the back of your thighs, and sits you on the ledge. You wrap your legs around him and grab a fistful of his hair from the back of his head, pulling on it lightly as he moans into your mouth.

Eddie grinds his hips against you, and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“Jesus, Eddie…so hard for me already?” You tease, as he trails careful bites down your neck.

“I’ve been hard for you since the moment I saw you, sweetheart. Literally went home and jerked off to the thought of you that night.” He pulls back to look at you, smirking.

“Oh yeah?” You raise your eyebrows, “What did you think about?” You grip your legs around his waist tighter.

His cheeks flush pink, “Mmm…well…you were riding me, and uh…taking charge…”

“Do you want me to be rough with you, Munson?” You gape at him.

He nods quickly.

You grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him closer to your face, “use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He breathes.

“That’s better,” you coo, pulling him in and kissing him. “Now, be a good boy and take your pants off.”

Eddie grins as he unbuckles his belt and slides his pants down. You palm his dick through his boxers, eliciting a moan from him as he lets his head fall back, closing his eyes.

You reach inside and wrap your hands around him, making him shudder and grip the sides counter. You start to stroke him as his eyes roll back into his head.

“Where do you want me to fuck you, Eds?” You whisper, watching his face.

“Mmmm…doesn’t matter. Wherever you want…” he mumbles distractedly.

You grip him forcefully, making his eyes shoot open. “I said, where would you like me to fuck you, Eddie. Make. A. Fucking. Decision.”

“We can…the couch…” he stumbles over his words.

You loosen your grip and push a stray strand of hair off his forehead with your free hand, “good boy.”

Eddie growls and picks you up, gripping your ass and pulling you on top of him onto the couch. He cradles your face in both of his hands and kisses you feverishly while you shed your flannel onto the floor. Pulling back you peel away your camisole and unclasp your bra, throwing them both behind you.

Eddie stares at your upper body completely exposed, and reaches up to grab your chest. You smack his hand away, “Did I say you could touch, Munson?”

“No ma’am…” he mutters.

You stand up, maintaining unwavering eye contact with him while you strip out of your jeans and underwear, and climbing back onto of him.

“You don’t get to touch until I say so.”

Eddie nods and grips the couch cushion, while you lean down and kiss him, running your tongue along his lips and into his mouth.

You start to trail little kisses down the side of his neck, and feel him tense up, knowing he’s dying to feel you.

“You can touch me now Eddie…” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe.

He immediately attaches one hand to your chest while the other snakes around your back to pull your hips down onto him harder. You begin to roll your hips into him, feeling his fingers grip your hip so hard you can already feel bruises starting to form from his rings.

You reach down and begin to stroke him again, urging him to remove his boxers completely, discarding them on the floor next to your bra. Running the head of his cock up and down your folds, you hear him moan in anticipation.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined, when you were jerking off to me, alone in your room?” You sneer at him, slipping his head in and out of your entrance a few times to tease him.

“Fuck….” He groans.

You tease him for a few more minutes, until his noises become begging, and then you finally sink onto him completely. He lets out a guttural moan that sounds more like a growl, and bucks up into you.

You quickly shoot your hand up and place it on his throat, squeezing lightly, “We will be having none of that. Not unless I say so. Remember who’s in charge here.” You smile sweetly, while he bites his bottom lip.

You start to rock your hips slowly at first, picking up the pace after a few minutes, gripping onto his shoulders for balance. You set a good pace, but it’s not enough, you crave more, needing him to be closer.

“Eddie…” you groan, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He picks his head up from the back of the couch and looks at you, running his hands along your back, “yes baby…” he whispers back.

“I want you to fuck me…fuck me like you hate me.”

It was all the permission he needed.

He grabs you and flips you onto the couch, hooking your leg around his hip for a better angle. Thrusting into you at a ruthless pace, causing you to let out the most feral noise from deep in your throat. He laughs darkly as he clamps his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up, I don’t want the neighbors hearing me fucking some whore.”

He pulls his hand away, only to swipe two of his fingers against your lips. You put them both into your mouth and suck them, causing him to groan and his hips start to stutter. “Fuck me…are you close?”

“Mhm…yes Eddie…” you grab onto his bicep as he fucks you hard and fast, chasing his release.

He buries his face in your neck, and you feel him finish inside of you, whispers of fuck, shit, and Jesus Christ filling your ear as you let go of the knot in your lower stomach and clench around him simultaneously.

Eddie collapses on top of you, careful to not put his full weight onto your body. He kisses your neck, and moves up to your cheek, finishing with one soft kiss on your lips.

“Hey pretty girl.” He smiles.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle back.

After a few minutes of laying intertwined, Eddie mindlessly tracing patterns down your arm, you both get up and get dressed.

“So,” you break the silence, zipping up your jeans, “are you gonna be nice to me now?”

He smiles while pulling his shirt on, “Of course, sweetheart.”

“Ok new rule,” you hold a finger up to him, “you can only call me pet names in private, we can’t have the boys thinking you get special attention, I’m still your manager y’know.”

“So they can’t know that you’re also good at managing this dick?” He says with a serious face.

You hit him in the arm, mouth open in fake offense as he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson fanfic #eddie munson smut

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 2 years ago

Text

No Place Like Home | Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: Car Shop

Words: 1772

Fandom: Stranger Things

A/N: Writing about someone heading to their reunion reminds me that mine is coming up in less than five years. Where has the time gone? I wonder how many of my classmates actually have their shit figured out within the ten years after high school. I don’t know why my mind keeps going back to Romi and Michele’s High School Reunion. If you hadn’t seen that movie, you should. It’s funny.

Summary: You were on your way to your ten-year high school reunion when your car broke down. The mechanic that helped you was none other than Eddie Munson, your old friend from high school.

“No, no, no! Come on!” you pleaded as you heard the engine of your car rattle.

You quickly pull up to the side of the road before you inflict any more damage on your poor car. The two of you had been through a lot together. You were hoping to take her out on one last ride to your hometown before you got a new one back in the city. That did not seem to be the case now.

With a huff, you leaned over to your glove compartment and rifled through for the phone number of a particular mechanic at Hawkins. At least you made it to the edge of town. Getting them to pick you up shouldn’t be too much trouble. You flipped open your phone and dialed the number, leaning against your car as you waited for them to pick up,

“Hello, Munson's Mechanics,” came a familiar gruff voice.

You found yourself smiling, almost forgetting to speak. “Oh, yes, um, I broke down just outside of Hawkins. I think it might be the engine?”

“We’ll send someone out for you. Where exactly are you?”

You described your surroundings and estimated how far off from Hawkins you were. He recognized the place and reiterated that someone was coming to help and to just sit tight.

“Of course. Thank you, Mr. Munson,” you said.

There was a pause on the other end before he asked what your name was again. You told him and he barked out a laugh. “Thought so! Glad to see your back in town. Well, almost in town. A lot’s changed since the last time you’ve been here.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“He’s gonna be happy to see you.” Before you could ask him what he meant, he changed the subject. “Well, I gotta go. Customer’s here. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you.”

He grunted, then hung up. Nice to see Wayne hadn’t changed that much. You were starting to regret not keeping in touch with them, but he didn’t seem like he was holding a grudge about it anyways. His nephew on the other hand… You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself as you waited for your rescue. You assumed that he was talking about Eddie. Not sure who else he would be talking about.

You were in the same grade as Eddie during his first senior year at Hawkins High and despite both of your efforts, he ended up not graduating. It wasn’t really his fault. He had a hard time focusing and keeping still in class. When you graduated, you left Hawkins for college, promising to visit as much as you could.

Life got busy and the visits got shorter and shorter until you weren’t visiting at all. Still, he finally graduated on his third try and a few years later, he and his uncle opened up a car shop. From what you heard, they were doing pretty well.

In less than an hour, a tow truck approached you, sending you a quick wave before turning the truck until it was parked in front of your car. A familiar mop of curly dark hair poked out as the door opened. His tall figure hopped out of the truck and strode over to you, a wide grin on his face.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie smirked, crossing his arms.

You pushed yourself off your car and smiled. “Eddie Munson. Only you would make greasy overalls look good,” you said.

“Haven’t seen you in years and you’re already checking me out. My, my. The city has made you lose your inhibitions, hasn't it?”

You shook your head at him. He was still charming as ever. Damn him. “You’re gonna help me with my car or what?”

“Damn, you’re such a city person. So demanding,” he muttered, bumping your shoulder playfully as he stepped towards your car. “Pop the hood, will you?”

You spun around and bent down by the driver’s seat to pull the lever. Eddie lifted the hood and propped it up, squinting at the damage. You stood next to him, having no clue what you were looking at.

“So, uh, how bad is it?” you asked.

“Not too bad. Surprised you still have her, though. Of course, she’d seen better care when I was taking care of her, poor thing.” He tapped the side of the car with a mournful sigh.

“Mechanics are expensive in the city,” you said with a shrug. “I only took her when it was an emergency.”

“If you were missing free car repair labor, you should have stopped by more often,” he said, trying to sound teasing and lighthearted, but his brown eyes looked over at you with pent up hurt and longing.

You sighed. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, “I don’t want to spout excuses, but… sometimes I wished that I could click my heels together and appear back in Hawkins. There wasn’t a day that had gone by where I wasn’t thinking of you.” You felt your eyes sting and you had to look away from his intense gaze. You cleared your throat, crossing your arms again. “And your free labor, of course.”

Eddie snorted, closing the car hood. He wordlessly turned to hook up your car to the tow truck. You stood back and watched him work as you both distracted yourself from your admission. He had tied the top half of his overalls around his waist, showing off his Metallica shirt that he had cut the sleeves off. When did he get those muscles?

“If you get into the truck, you could gawk at me longer,” he teased, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha ha.”

You rounded the truck to the passenger’s side and he helped you in like the gentleman he is. You thanked him, turning on the radio as soon as he started the truck. His music taste hadn’t changed that much either.

“I’m assuming that you came back for the reunion and not for little ol’ me,” Eddie said after a long moment of silence, soaking in each other’s presence.

“I came back for both, I’ll have you know. I didn’t have to come back, but I wanted to,” you said truthfully. “How are things back at home?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “There’s a new shopping center. Nothing grand like Starcourt or anything. New burger joint. New gaming store. Cool shit in there. All kinds of games, even tabletop rpgs. Some of the kids that used to be in Hellfire work there. The members of Corroded Coffin left for college and only came back during holidays. Uh… Steve Harrington’s the new deputy.”

“No shit.” You raised your eyebrows. “Hopper’s still the chief?”

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “I honestly think he should be mayor at this point. The town gets into chaos when he’s not around. Oh, yeah, you remember the Byers kids?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Sweet boys. What about them?”

“Chief’s married to their mom now. Meanwhile, Big Byers is traveling the country with his partner, Wheeler, uncovering stories of corruption and government cover-ups and the occasional paranormal investigations,” he said nonchalantly. You frowned, stuck on the paranormal investigations part, but he continued before you could ask. “Little Byers is a big time local artist. During the local committee’s attempts to fix up the look of Hawkins, they had him paint a mural in the town square.”

“Holy shit. That’s amazing! You gotta show me later,” you said, grabbing his shoulder.

“We hanging out during your stay?” he asked dubiously.

“You don’t want to? I thought we’d, you know, catch up and stuff.” You removed your hand and he immediately missed the heat from it.

“No,” he said quickly, “I just… I just thought you’d want to see your friends and hang out with them before the reunion.”

“You’re my friend, too. Well, I hope we’re still friends. I know I haven’t been the best at keeping in touch –”

“Understatement.”

“But,” you pressed on, “I want to try and be there more. There’s been… a lot happening back in the city. I think I’m going to be here for a while longer even after the reunion.”

Eddie frowned, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, looking down at your lap. “Yeah. I’ve just got some things to figure out and it helps to be someplace familiar, I guess.”

They arrived at the shop a lot sooner than you thought. Eddie led you into the office before he left to get your car sorted out. Wayne walked in with a small smile and a nod.

“Heya, kid. What a welcome back, huh?” he said.

“Tell me about it. It’s nice to see familiar faces,” you said, returning the smile.

“Don’t you worry about your car. We’ll fix her up good in no time.”

You waved a dismissive hand. “Eds said the damage isn’t too bad and I know you guys know what you’re doing, so I’m not worried. Besides, I’m going to be here for a while.”

“We’ll go ahead and check your oil and tires while we’re at it. Looks like you need to replace those windshield wipers, too.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it, then.”

Wayne nodded. “Don’t be a stranger here. We’ll call you when she’s good to go, but you can always stop by anytime, okay?”

“Of course, Wayne.”

Eddie was leaning outside when the two of you walked out of the office. Wayne patted his nephew’s shoulder as he passed, making his way over to your car. You stood there awkwardly, not wanting to bother Eddie further. Your folks had moved out of town a year after you left, so you were planning to stay at a motel, but now you had no way of getting there.

“Where to, your highness?” Eddie asked, twirling his keys around his finger.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he crossed his arms and gave you that looked, daring you to argue with him. You huffed.

“I think I’m going to rest up, but after that… maybe we could drive around?”

He gave you a curious look before smiling. “Of course. Let me load the carriage, your highness, and we will be on our way.”

You shook your head fondly at him. You missed him so much. There was so much you wanted to tell him, but that would have to wait. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy the moment, relish the nostalgia, and reacquaint with old friends. There was no place like home.

#writersmonth2022 #writer's month #eddie munson x reader #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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zaraomarrogers · 2 years ago

Text

Always and Forever - 6

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sexual content, language, 18+, minors do not interact

~*~

“Y/n.... Y/n... Where the hell have you been today?”

Y/n came rushing down the stairs when she heard her mother calling her name. By the sound of it, she was angry.

“The fuck have you been all day? I asked you to meet Vincent for your job. I arranged it for you but you can’t seem to to get out of your futile little head.”

“I’m sorry mom, but I told you I-I don’t want to work at your firm” Y/n said in barely audible voice.

“And I told you that you don’t have a choice.” Eleanor yelled at her daughter causing her to shrink into place.

“Do you want to stay dependent on me? It’s convenient for you, right? I’m baring all your expenses so you decide, what’s the point in working? Just learn something from your sister. Every single person knows who Peggy Carter is. She’s made a name and reputation at my Firm. She’s handling her studies and job brilliantly. Look at you Y/n, you’re starting college next month and you don’t even know a single fucking thing about how hard it is to earn money and spend it on your useless daughter.”

Y/n was quiet , it wasn’t the first time she was being ridiculed by her mother. She lost the count of how many times her mother had compared her sister’s achievements from her lack of social life. She had been a quite and shy kid all her life. Only people who really knew her was Steve, her best friend from childhood and now her boyfriend. She wasn’t close to her dad but he wasn’t like her mom either. Whenever she spent time with her dad, she enjoyed it. She was close to Sarah and Bucky also.

Y/n had been a brilliant student throughout her school. None of her achievements were acknowledged by her mother or her sister and that had damaged her self-esteem. She was a talented illustrator. She’d been freelancing her illustrations ever since she was in middle school. But once Eleanor found out, she dejected her to do so.

“I don’t want to work with Vincent.... I’m not comfortable with him, mom.” She had to gulped her tears down her throat.

“Why not? What is wrong with him.” Eleanor poured a drink in her glass.

“I-I don’t.. I’m not comforta...”

“I heard that you’re not comfortable with him. Why? Give me a reason.” She raises an eye brow at her.

“He says inappropriate things to me. I don’t feel safe around him.” She was about to cry.

“You must have given him an impression..”

“I told him I have a boyfriend. He knows it but still can’t keep his hands to himself.” She was angry and it showed in her voice.

“Watch your tone, girl.” Eleanor said coldly.

“Please, mom I don’t want to work at your Firm. I’ll find a job, I promise.” Her voice became shaky.

“What kinda job? I don’t want you bartending or be a barista or something... I want you to find a proper job so that you can make a name for yourself like your sister.” She said, “.... and I’m going to tell Vincent what you’ve told me, if he denies you’re coming with me Y/n, no more discussion on this.” With a bottle of whiskey in her hand she left Y/n there in the middle of the room.

Next Day when Steve came to pick her up for their usual Saturday night stay over at Steve’s house, she was off. During the dinner she was unusually quiet not even laughing or messing around with Bucky. When Steve cornered her during the movie she hid her face in his chest and in between her sobs she told Steve everything except for the Vincent part. She knew Steve would pick a fight, he was like that, not compromising on what he thought was right. She didn’t want him to get in trouble not because Vincent was an influential man but she didn’t want Steve any harm or risk his bright future.

Steve had other things in mind. He told her that it was no big deal and that he saw the opening for teacher’s assistant job at their high school and since they had been graduated she could be hired easily. Bucky was listening to them, he glared at Steve which he conveniently ignored. Y/n’s situation wasn’t new for Bucky. Him and Steve grew up watching Y/n ridiculed by her mother.

“Man, what the hell... you needed this job.” Bucky whispered yell at Steve after he sent Y/n to bathroom to freshen up.

“I didn’t know what else to do Buck, you know Eleanor will never leave her alone...”

“I know, I know... but you needed this job more than anything. You know, now you will have to work four freaking jobs before college starts. That means you leave home at 7 in the morning and can’t be home before 10:30ish... are you out of your fucking mind.”

Steve knew Bucky was right, he wanted to earn enough money before college start and assistant to teacher was paying him enough but now he had to stick to his previous jobs and get one more to bare college expenses. After his dad passed away, Sarah was the only bread winner and Steve wanted to help her out. It wasn’t like money was tight but Steve didn’t want her Ma to overwork herself. But now with Y/n’s situation, he had to send her in his place and he was happily doing it. He fiercely wanted to protect Y/n. He just loved her so much.

“I know Buck, I will figure out something...” Steve whispered, “.... I can’t see her crying. I jut can’t... she was.... I don’t know Buck... I love her so so much... I can’t see her hurting like that.”

Bucky sighed deeply and leaned back to the couch. He knew Steve would do anything for Y/n. He had witnessed them falling in love and at such tender age their love for each other is other worldly. He winked at Steve, making a silent promise that Y/n would never know that Steve gave up his job for her just like he would never let Steve know that Y/n was harassed by her mother’s co-worker and her mother still wanted her to work for him.

~*~

It was a chilly Monday morning, Y/n dropped Malcolm at the day care and arrived at her office. She was greeted by her assistant Lily, who gave her a heads up for that day’s schedule. There were couple of things needed her attention and then there was a meeting with Pepper after lunch where she was going to introduce Steve as their new marketing head.

“Y/n/n... what the hell? You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Wanda barged in in her office when she was almost done with her work.

“Relax Wan! I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t important. He is not important.” Y/n said calmly, her focused was still on the picture of model who was wearing Wanda’s creation.

“How come you’re so relax?” Wanda sat down on a chair in front of her.

“Because I just told you that he is not important. He’d be here for a month or so... and then its back to normal.” She typed away the mail in her computer, sending the picture she was assessing back to printing.

“Mal's happy with him being here.” Wanda leaned on the table.

“He’s very happy, Wan. I just need to figure out his days with his dad. Hopefully, he’d come around.”

“You’re limiting Steve’s days with Mal?” Wanda sounded slightly bewildered.

“Yeah! I haven’t come up with anything yet.” She said looking at Wanda.

“Are you sure? I mean... Y/n/n.. you and I both know... ugghhhh... its very difficult for me to say this but Mal needs him in his life as much as he needs you. You and I both know the importance of father in a kid’s life. We didn’t have that.”

Y/n smiled at her, she knew Wanda was a sweetheart underneath her hard shell that she had for Steve.

“I don’t know Wan! I don’t know what to do.” Y/n heaved a sigh, all of a sudden she sounded tired.

“I know you’ll figure it out, Y/n/n. You’re gonna come up with what is best for our Mal.” Wanda smiled widely, holding her sister’s hand and squeezing it. “You got this.” She winked.

After lunchtime, everyone got settled in in the conference room for the meeting. Once Pepper introduced Steve, he took over the room. He was confident, persuasive and had an approach towards the main agenda of the meeting. He grew complacent with the respond he got after just a first meeting. All the ladies, single or not were circling him after the meeting. Y/n rolled her eyes at the scene and left to pick Malcolm from the day care.

Steve’s eyes followed Y/n through the glass door of the conference room. He was surrounded by bunch of very attractive women, all of them had ‘something important’ to discuss with him. He wanted to excuse and go after Y/n but he couldn’t put her on the spot on the very first of them working together. There were so many things needed to be fix and he went straight into work. Pepper briefed him before the meeting so he knew what his tasks were, he was excited to begin using his expertise.

~*~

After a spending a busy day at work, Steve got back to his hotel room. He reminded himself to look for an apartment or a rental house or may be a more permanent set up if he was to stay in Boston. After ordering room service he hopped into the shower. Today he didn’t see his little bean, that made his mood a little more glum. He had to clear up the mess and be in Malcolm’s life permanently, he tried to pacify himself with the thought. His phone was constantly ringing on his night stand, he hurriedly dried off his body and wrapped the same towel around his waist. It was his mom’s call.

“Hey mom!” Steve set his phone on the night stand and goes back into the bathroom to put some clothes on.

“Hey honey! Did I call on wrong time?” Sarah beamed through the phone.

“Oh no, no Ma, I was in the shower. Just got back from work.” Steve hollered, pulling up sweat pant.

“So, how was it? Your work and stuff.” She asked curiously. “Have you eaten, Stevie?”

“ Yes Ma, I had dinner. And work is fine. A little loaded but nothing like your son can’t handle.” He smiled lightly, looking at the camera.

“I know Stevie, my boy can do any thing he puts his mind on.” Sarah laughed lightly. “How long are you staying there?”

“Ma... umm...I want to tell you something.” Steve started, “Wish you were here, you know I wanted someone to meet you.”

“What is it, honey?” Sarah was now fully attentive, also concerned.

Steve sighed deeply, he was trying to form a sentence, or may be trying to swallow his tears.

“Steve, you’re scaring me now, honey, what is it?”

“Ma, I..I.. I found... Y/n is here...” He looked in the camera, tears falling freely from his eyes.

“Y/n?? Our Y/n?... Ohh...” Sarah was looking at her son helplessly.

“I met her at the fashion event.... and you know what Ma, I-I have a son....” He smiled joyfully through his tears. Sarah gasped loudly.

“Malcolm, his name is Malcolm.... Ma he’s just like me, wait let me send you his pictures.”

“Steve... I... is he your...?”

“Ma, he is mine. He’s mine and Y/n's. You can’t believe this right. It’d be so hard for me to believe if I haven’t met him, its just been few days, Ma, and I feel like I’ve known him ever since he was born. Just look at him, the pictures I just sent you.”

Sarah looked at her phone's screen and all her doubts vanished. She looked at Steve and then at the pictures in her phone. Tears were shining in her eyes.

“Stevie...” she chuckled, finding words.

“I know right!! He’s my son, he’s my Malcolm.” Steve smiled proudly.

“He’s just like you, Stevie. But there’s bits of Y/n in him as well. Oh my heart...” Sarah cooed over the phone. She was ecstatic. “He’s got his smile from Y/n, He’s perfect Stevie.”

Sarah’s eyes were on her phone, she was still looking the pictures, “how is Y/n, Steve? Is she alright? How has she been with you?” Sarah said in a flow of emotions.

“She’s perfect, Ma. Prettier than before. More beautiful. She overwhelms me, Ma. No words can bring justice to her strength and kindness.” Steve was in haze of emotions and Sarah could see her son was still helplessly in love with Y/n.

“She was kind enough to let Malcolm know about me. I don’t deserve her Ma. Never have, never will. She let me in their life because she thinks Malcolm needs me as much he needs her in his life....”

“Steve, sweetheart....” Sarah interrupted him.

“..... I just don’t deserve them, Ma. I put her through hell....”

“Honey, you deserve them. Please don’t think like that.”

“Ma... I would have been with her, Mal would have known me, Y/n wouldn’t hate me as she does now, if, if I wasn’t... I couldn’t... I don’t...” Steve hid his face in both hands. His body vibrated with light sobs. Sarah was helplessly looking at his son. She knew what happened four years ago was a mistake. If it was up to her she would go hell bent on undoing that ominous day, she would have saved her son from drowning into the pit of darkness.

“Steve... sweetheart, please look at me...” Sarah softly said after few minutes and Steve looked at her with red eyes.

“My boy, you have this chance to make everything right. I know this is hard, Stevie, but I believe in you, honey. You deserve to be happy, just tell her what you feel. She deserves to know your side of the story. She would forgive you....”

“Ma, she wouldn’t let me talk to her. The only conversation we have had was about Malcolm. She had this distant look in her eyes, like she doesn’t even know me anymore. And it hurts, but I deserve this pain Ma.”

“Then earn her trust back Steve. Show her that you still care. Let her know that you’re not going hurt her again. For that, you need to be there honey. You have to decide where do you want to be.”

“I want to be here, Ma. I want to be with Mal and Y/n.” His reply was prompt.

“Then you need to end your ties from New York. You can’t be a man you want to be, unless you dispatch a person you became in these four years, Stevie.”

“I know, Ma. I have to start with ending my engagement with Peggy.”

Sarah chuckled, earning a puzzled look from her son.

“I’m surprised she’s still engaged to you. With your reputation, not a sane woman would want to be associated with you, Stevie.” Sarah teased her son.

“Ma, not everything you read online is true.” Steve said sheepishly.

“Oh really? My son is getting his dick wet, fucking around with different women, have an image of a fuck boy.....”

“Oh my god! Ma, please stop. I get it. Not all is true. They love to pick things up....”

“I’m just telling you what news outlets write about you, Stevie. You gotta have to fix this first.”

“They’re gossip sites Ma and I know... I know I’ve got a lot of mess, I need to clean this.” Steve rubbed his eyes, he was clearly tired.

“You got this, honey.” Sarah smiled at her son. “I want to come visit you and see my grandson but we’ve got a lot of orders at the shop. Its busy time.”

“It’s okay, Ma. I’d face time you next time when I meet Mal.”

“Awww... I’ll be waiting. I can’t wait to meet you all, sweetheart.”

Steve felt a little better after speaking with Sarah. He had this sudden urge to held Y/n in his arms and tell her how much he had loved her, missed her. He wanted to tell her that it was impossible for him to breathe without her. He wanted to apologise until she’d forgive him, take him back.

He took his laptop out of its bag and started looking for houses. He wanted to buy a house with the big backyard where Malcolm could play and spend time with him.

The next morning he dialled Peggy’s number while still in bed. She didn’t pick his phone the first two times, but Steve was persistent. On the third attempt, when she asked him what made him call her in the morning in an irritated tone, he told her that he wanted to break the engagement, that he couldn’t, didn’t want to be with her. He even gave her the leverage that she could blame him and play the victim to save her so called reputation. He made it very clear that he wanted an out, at any cost. He didn’t want to be associated with her in any capacity. Peggy was stunned and called him a coward because he was ending things on phone. She also threatened him that she would drag him and pull all his dirty laundry in the media, but Steve was ascertain. He told her he didn’t care as long as he was not linked to her. Steve knew Peggy won’t take this break up lightly, he knew she would go to any extent to drag him back, manipulate him back into the relationship so he made it clear that whatever she’d do, his decision would be same. After a heated conversation, Steve disconnected the call, knowing full well that Peggy won’t contact her because she had a big fat bruised ego, just like her mother. He hated Eleanor with all his being, not just because her behaviour with Y/n, but for a lot reasons, he didn’t want to think of right now. Right now only thing on his mind was to go to Potts- Home for fashion his new work place, and confess his feelings to Y/n. To apologise to her and let her know that he was there and he wouldn’t leave her and Malcolm ever again. That he didn’t care if she’d take five years to forgive him and another five years to take him back in her life, as long as he was with her and Malcolm, he was fine. And he was willing to earn her trust back.

He stepped out of the elevator and his breath caught in his lungs when he saw a man in a three piece suit, pecking Y/n's cheek while her hand was on his bicep. In other hand she was holding a bouquet of fresh peonies. He saw a tint of pink spread on Y/n’s cheek and a shy smile. The same shy smile she used to have whenever Steve kissed her or even looked at her lovingly. In that moment Steve felt something was stabbed in his heart. A fear of losing her had overpowered his actions when his feet took him to where Y/n and that man were, still engrossed in talking.

Steve took Y/n’s hand, the same one she had on this man's bicep few minutes ago, and intertwined his fingers in hers. Y/n glared at him and try to freed his hand, only to be held more tightly. Steve’s hold was still gentle though. Before Steve could say something, Pepper came in with a big smile and introduced the man Steve was throwing daggers at.

“Steve, meet our new legal advisor, Andy Barber.”

Steve’s grip on Y/n’s hand tightened. She was stunned by Steve’s action but she was also aware of what could possibly be in his mind right now. She knew the look on his face. She could read his every tense nerve. She lightly squeezed his hand, getting his attention on her. He looked at her and instantly relaxed. The throbbing vein in the side of his forehead slowly vanished. It was a simple action from her, yet it showed how deeply connected and well tuned they both were, and Andy didn’t miss it. He witnessed it closely. His eyes were fixated on their still intertwined hand and his mind was working in bolting speed.

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #dad steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Text

Being a High School Student on A Marvel Set

Pairing: Marvel cast x teen!reader

Warnings: none, does crying over a math question count?

💭.

You were one of the younger actresses on set.

Though you were just a few years younger than Tom Holland.

Being a high school student and balancing your acting career was pretty difficult, not gonna lie.

Your days would consist of schooling in the morning on set, by mid afternoon you would have lunch, film your scenes for the day, take a break and do some homework, and then shoot some other scenes before calling it a day.

Everyone was aware that you had school from 8am till 1pm, so the cast made sure to not bother you around those times or make too much noise near the area you were having school.

Everyone except Robert followed that rule, but for a good reason. He would check in around 12pm and bring you some little snacks.

“Hi, sorry, she hasn’t eaten since breakfast.” He would say to the teacher that came to set everyday.

“Gotta make sure she’s got enough fuel in her body, don’t mind me.”

Oh yeah, Robert made sure you had a space on set just for your schooling. It was like the Downey Village tent but smaller. He even had a box full of school supplies in case you ran out.

The tent had windows so sometimes the other cast members, (Evans, Mackie, and Hemsworth) would peek in and make silly faces at you or wave. The gesture would make you giggle and it definitely made your schooling hours more fun.

When you’re done with school everyone would greet you.

“About time you joined!”

“How was school, kid?”

“Did you have a good day at school?”

The cast would make sure you’re not stressing over school so much. If you’ve been cooped up in the tent all day, someone would ask you to accompany them to craft service or a walk around the set so you could have some fresh air. Also for a mental break.

It would usually be Sebastian, Elizabeth, or Scarlett. They always made sure you were taking care of yourself mentally and physically.

If Benedict or Tom Hiddleston were on set they would mediate with you. I just feel like they would like meditating, Robert too.

One day they found you face planted into your Geometry textbook, sniffling and they heard you whimper.

“(Y/n), sweetheart what’s wrong?” Evans and Mackie were the ones to find you.

You removed your head from the textbook and wiped your tears with your sleeves.

“The math question. I’ve been doing it over and over again and it’s WRONG every time.”

“You’re crying over a math question?”

“I DON’T GET IT AT ALL”

“Why do I need geometry anyway? It’s not like I’m going to find the angle of my pizza before eating it.”

Anthony would shut your textbook and the two men would take a seat on either side of you.

They would calm you down before opening the textbook again and helping you.

“It’s ok to not get it on the first try. You’ve just learned this, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Chris comforted you.

“You could ask any of us for help, all of us are willing to help you.”

Chris would volunteer to help you on math questions. He was actually good at math, apparently it was one of his favorite subjects in school.

When he would get questions correct in a row he would mumble, “Nailed that one too, I still got it.”

Anthony would try to help you as well helping Chris explain the questions, “I told y’all, I studied math in high school.”

Whoever was free would help you to the best of their abilities.

You would turn to Benedict or Hiddleston to help you with essays so they would sound proper.

They were amazed to see how organized you were when it came to your work and being on top of things.

You would take naps on set. Sometimes on your chair. Most of the time it was on someone’s shoulder or lap.

Since you’re on set, you couldn’t go to prom. You didn’t even have a prom.

Tom (Holland) heard how upset you were about not having a prom and mentioned it to the others.

They surprised you with your own prom on set after a short day of filming (Which were purposely short, because the Russos were in on the surprise.)

Scarlett and Elizabeth had a dress ready for you to wear.

Tom gave you your corsage since he was the one who gave the idea of throwing you your own prom.

Everyone was dressed nicely, including the crew on set.

It wasn’t something you expected and you ended up crying.

“NO DON’T CRY!”

“Aww honey, you look beautiful!”

“Group hug!”

You danced with everyone. The moment made you realize how much you were thankful for your Marvel family.

They even threw your graduation ceremony and party.

Like it was literally a full on ceremony, led by the man himself, RDJ, and had appearances from Samuel L. Jackson, Kevin Feige, and the Russos.

Everyone was taking pictures of you and your diploma, they were a bunch of proud aunties and uncles.

As a surprise they flew your family out to see you.

Again, you cried. You’ve missed them so much. They thanked everyone on the cast and crew for helping you graduated and being there for you.

Of course the cast brushed it off because they would do anything for you. You were family and their baby.

When you enter college (IF you wanna go to college) they would do it all over again.

Because they loved you:)

This shit made me soft I want to cry.

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

All I Wanna Be Is Somebody To You

A Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: None

Author's Note: For the one anon who wanted a nervous reader! I hope I did this justice for you, darling! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She didn’t hate talking. Not really. But the idea of holding conversations with people she didn’t know sent her heart fluttering and her throat tightening until it was impossible to breathe. More often than not, she found herself apologizing a lot for the stuttering or the repeating of things she said. Most people gave her odd looks, told her to stop apologizing so much (like that ever helped anyone), or laughed and told her she was cute—which was nice until she realized they meant in a childish sort of way rather than an endearing one.

But it wasn’t always like that. According to her parents, there’d been a time when she couldn’t stop talking. Always had something to say and had somebody to tell. Something changed during her years, she knew when, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself or her family when they asked what happened to their outgoing and talkative daughter. Too many times she’d heard, “You know no one cares about X, right?” or “Oh my God, will you shut up?” and every time she heard it from a friend it dug into her a little deeper, made her shut her mouth tighter, and tore her heart much harsher.

And because she chose to be the silent type instead of the outgoing one, people assumed her arrogant and cold, distant and rude, and she found herself spending most of middle school and high school by herself. She was glad when graduation came, and while she’d dreaded giving her valedictorian speech, she did manage to get through it without too much trouble. It did feel like her one triumph against everyone who ignored her throughout school.

College freed her. Allowed her to make a flexible schedule, take smaller classes, and be solitary when she wanted. She’d refused a dorm room on the campus, living only fifteen minutes from Gotham University, instead choosing to commute daily and she liked it a lot more than having roommates in a four-bedroom apartment on the school grounds.

When she wasn’t in class, she stayed home a lot. It came with being a homebody, but when she did go out into the great big city, she liked to shop. Little antique shops or bookstores. She went to bookstores more than she did school. There was something so wonderful about finding a book in the shop and sitting down at a café and reading quietly. Which is how she met him, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why he wanted anything to do with her. She was quiet and shy, and he was open and flirty. They obviously didn’t match in any way, shape, or form. At least, that’s what she thought.

***

She drew her gaze along the wall of books before her, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she searched for the novel. It’d been a long time since she’d read The Count of Monte Cristo, a copy of her father’s that he’d had when she was just a child. Something had reminded her of it the other day and all she could think about was getting her own so she could annotate in the margins.

As she came across it, she started reaching when someone got to it first, one finger pulling it out by its spine before taking it into their hand. She visibly deflated with a soft sigh as it was the last copy and hung her head in defeat.

“I’m sorry, were you wanting this too?” Her head cocked up and she gazed at the young man before her. He smiled and she felt like she’d been shot in the chest at how dazzling it was. “Here, you can have it.”

Swallowing thickly, she shook her head, “You got it first.” Nodding, she added, “It’s yours.”

He cocked a brow at that. “Well, from the devastated look on your face, doll, you want it to be yours.”

Her cheeks warmed at that, and she felt nervous where she stood, resisting the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. “N-no it’s okay.” She said. “You take it.”

“Oh no you don’t. That’s not how this works.” He chuckled and took her hands, pressing the book into them, then he winked at her. “The doll deserves to have her book.”

If there had ever been a time in which she wanted to explode from embarrassment, it was then, and before she knew it, she shoved the book back into his arms and so hard that it must’ve knocked the wind out of him because he gasped. She spun around and took off down the aisle and out the front doors as fast as she could, wanting nothing more than to disappear in the crowded streets. That or sink into the ground. Maybe next week she’d come back and get the book. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be there again.

***

Then again, her hopes were always wrong, and she picked up the copy of The Divine Comedy, flipping it open to read the first page.

“I see you’re a fan of the classics, aren’t you, doll?”

She snapped the book shut when she heard his voice and looked over at him. Something inside annoyed her at the cocky smirk he wore, much more was the arm he had resting on the top of the bookshelf as he gazed at her.

“You know, you left a nice bruise on me the other week.” He quipped, shifting his weight to cross his ankles. “You’re pretty strong.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, turning to look back at the book. “Sorry I hit you…it was an accident.”

“Well, I can accept your apology if you tell me your name.”

“Why?” she questioned quietly, wiggling her toes.

“Because I wanna put a name to such a cute face. Why else?” he flirted, and she scowled at the book cover. “Oh, that’s an even more adorable face.”

“Quit doing that!” she hissed. “It’s not funny!”

He chuckled. “Oh contraire, it’s actually hilarious.” He took a step towards her. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

Her eyes darted to the outstretched hand, and she stared at it for a split second before softly shaking it. “(Y/N).” she murmured.

Before she could pull her hand back, he raised it and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Enchanté ma chérie,” he professed, breath hot against her skin and just like before, she was so absolutely flustered she was yanking her hand back and poor Jason’s grip slipped, and he whacked himself in the face with his own hand.

“Nice to meet you!” (Y/N) yelped and scurried off down the aisle and to the register where she purchased her book in record time. Third time was the charm and she prayed that he wouldn’t be there again.

***

And whoever lived upstairs must’ve really had it out for her because she flipped the page in her One Thousand and One Arabian Nights and heard an exaggerated cough. Looking up through her eyelashes, she saw Jason standing there with a grin on his face. “Hello (Y/N),” he purred, and she immediately felt her cheeks become hot.

“Hi Jason,” she muttered, gazing at her book, listening to the chair screech as he sat down across from her.

“How are you doing today?” he asked, setting down his own copy of Arabian Nights.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, finding it harder to focus on the book over the smell of his woody and oriental cologne. She thought she smelled a twinge of tobacco with it. “I’m fine.” Her eyes found his teal ones for a moment. “And you?”

He smiled, making her heart pick up a beat. “Doing pretty good.” He winked. “I got to see you again. Though I’m hoping I don’t get hit again. Either by a book or my own fist.”

“Sorry…” she cringed, sinking down in her seat. “That was an accident.”

Jason shrugged and propped his elbows on the table, placing his chin on his fingers. “Don’t worry about it. Say, do you like coffee?”

“I do,” she murmured.

“Great, want anything from the café?” he asked, nodding at the board and she looked over at it.

“I guess I could order a latte,” she replied more to herself than him, starting to pull her wallet out.

“Nah, I got it.” Jason said, standing from his seat.

(Y/N) blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I said I got it.” He quipped and she jumped from her seat to stop him, but caught the leg of her chair, and she flailed, stumbling right into Jason. They went tumbling to the floor and she landed atop him. For a minute they were both stunned silent as the people in the store looked at them and he smirked at her. “Well, this saves me the trouble of asking you out to dinner.” He winked again. “Should’ve told me you had a bold streak, doll.”

She immediately scrambled up, placing one of her hands on his chest to shove off him when her leg slipped, and her knee went into his groin. He groaned and rolled over, holding his crotch and (Y/N) was so mortified all she could do was apologize profusely and at one point she was sure she was mixing up her words, but it didn’t matter. Grabbing her things, she started running off a third time.

Though she’d made it ten feet out of the door and down the street before someone grabbed her round the waist and hauled her to a stop. “Oh no! We’re not doing this pattern again! I am not getting hit a fourth time!”

(Y/N) spun in his arm and gaped at him. “I’m sorry!”

Jason sighed heavily and lowered his head. “Holy crap, I’ve never had such a hard time getting a girl to go out with me.”

“You wanna go out with me?” She pointed to herself despite her flustered state. “W-with me?” she gave him a dubious look. “Really? M-me?”

“Well, if you wanna hit me a fourth time to be sure, go ahead, but yeah,” he retorted then heaved another sigh. “Jeez, talk about getting hit on.”

(Y/N) spluttered at that. “I did not hit on you!”

“Right, you just hit me instead.”

“It was an accident! And I said I was sorry!”

Jason grinned at her and arm away. “Well, I’ll accept your sorry’s if you go on a date with me.”

She blinked at him. “A date? When?”

“Tonight.” He said. “There’s a bookstore down in the town square for insomniacs. Open until seven A.M. and serves a mean cup of hot cocoa.” Jason smiled and took her hand. “So? How ‘bout it, doll? Wanna go out with me tonight?”

All she could do was simply stare at this gorgeous man that obviously had a thing for her for some god forsaken reason. “Why?” she asked blankly, and he seemed to falter at that.

“Why what?” he repeated, confusion etching across his face.

“Why do you wanna go out with me?” (Y/N) gestured to herself. “I’m weird.”

“So am I.” he agreed.

“I stutter a lot.”

“So does my brother.”

“I don’t talk a lot. I don’t like talking a lot. People get mad at me when I talk a lot and I prefer to listen and you’re not going to like going out with me because I’m going to be super quiet because I get flustered easily and I—”

Jason put his hand over her mouth and stared at her. “Do you ever take a breath?” she nodded silently, and he sighed. “Look, (Y/N), it’s only taken getting shoved in the stomach with a book, getting punched with my own hand, and getting nut-shot to understand that you’re not exactly comfortable with the public.”

He removed his hand. “That’s why I invited you to the bookstore. Because even in the few weeks we’ve known each other, I know you like quiet places. But if you don’t feel comfortable going with me right now, that’s okay. We can take it slow.” Jason smiled at her. “Doll, all I wanna be is somebody to you.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked at her feet, whispering, “I…don’t wanna go out right now…but I’d like to give you my number…if you’re okay with that?” she shrugged. “We can text.” Feeling hopeful she reached out and placed her hang on his arm. “And get to know each other better? Maybe tell each other our favorite books? That’s…the best way in my opinion.”

His face lit up and he murmured, “I’d love that.” He pulled out his phone, tapping at it before he handed it over to her. “Here you go.”

She took it and looked at the contact name he’d already put in. My Flustered Doll. She glared at him. “You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you, Jason? You’re not. At all.”

He smirked. “Oh, is that so?” She nodded and he quipped, “We’ll just see about that then.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and typed in her number, handing him back his phone. “There you go.” He glanced at it, seemingly satisfied before he locked it and put it back in his pocket, then they met each other’s gazes and she awkwardly pointed over her shoulder. “I’m going home now.”

Jason caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “See you later, doll. Stay cute.”

She was hurrying off again, his laughter in her ears, unaware that their exchanging of numbers was going to evolve into so much more in the coming months.

***

“—And I’m pretty sure I can never show my face again at school, Jay. I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life.”

He hummed, fingers gently dipping into her spine. “Well, this is coming from the girl that nut-shotted be in the middle of a busy bookstore.”

“Why would you remind me about that?” (Y/N) scowled. “It was an accident.”

“And yet it can’t be more mortifying than telling a guy to shove his head up his ass.” He retorted, eyes still closed as they basked in the sunlight streaming through the window. “This is at least a five on the ten scale.”

“More like a hundred.” She muttered, tucking her head under his chin. “I can’t believe I said that to him. Oh, I was just so—just so mad at what he said about my poem! He was just being mean!” (Y/N) gripped his sweatshirt. “You understand right?”

Jason nodded, his other hand resting at her hip. “Mhm.”

“You don’t think I’m overreacting, do you?” she frowned. “Everyone else thinks I am.”

“Telling someone that their poetry isn’t good because it isn’t iambic pentameter isn’t following constructive criticism, doll. It’s called being a douche.” She giggled and he bent his neck, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Call me next time Lord Douche-Canoe starts on your poetry again and I’ll school him on face-time.”

(Y/N) giggled again and rolled over, pressing them chest to chest and she grinned when he whined at her moving. “Thank you, Jason.”

He smiled at her. “I only take my thanks in kisses. Sorry, doll.”

Rolling her eyes, she bent down and pressed her lips to his. “I love you,” she murmured against him, and he hummed, hands grasping her hips.

“I love you more.”

“Nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” he scoffed, pulling back to look at her. “I am willingly in a relationship with the girl who nut-shot me in—MMHPF!”

(Y/N) shoved a pillow into his face, face hot as she shouted, “Stop bringing that up! It was an accident!” All she got in return was his laughter.

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! Hope you're doing good and drinking water :) May i request something? 😁 I was listening to "the 1" by Taylor Swift (queen) and got me thinking about a Wanda X Reader story where maybe idk they dated in high school/college but ended cause whatever reason but they never actually stopped liking eachother (yknow, like the song) and then they just meet somewhere and get to talk and you know... happy ending lol But only if you like the idea really. Have a good one!

Hello anon! Here it is, hope you like it. It’s short but is sweet, i hope you like it.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The One

Summary: Prompt based “A story where Reader and Wanda broke up and never stopped loving each other. Inspired by the song “The 1″ from Taylor Swift.

Words: 2.531k ///// Read on AO3

Warnings: None.

Marks: @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

Wanda Maximoff came into your life during autumn.

You were both in the same art history class, and she lent you a pen.

All it took was two dates, and you were completely in love. Unfortunately, as quickly as it started, your relationship burned out.

You wish you had a big plot justification, with betrayals and twists and turns to justify to your friends your emotional misery when it ended, but the only reason was the complete emotional immaturity you had.

There were fights, and accusations, and so much jealousy. And you wish so much that you had gotten over it, but you couldn't. And then Wanda was gathering the clothes that she had in your dormitory, and throwing the key at you.

You swore you wouldn't cry anymore, because there were no more tears after so many weeks, but you kept going. Until all that was left was the bitter feeling that you had ruined everything and lost the most important person in your life.

It had been more than two years since you two had broken up, and you still had the number saved on your cell phone with a heart emoji, even though the conversation had been archived a long time ago. And then you were walking out of the main building at NYU, and your friend Natasha Romanoff called out to you as she walked quickly toward you.

- Hey, girl! - she said with a smile. - How are you?

You shrugged as you walked with her around the campus toward the secondary building, where the Philosophy classrooms were.

- I’m surviving. - You joke with a weak smile, Nat looked at you worriedly, but you shook your head, trying to reassure her. - And how are you doing?

- Fine, I think. - She says, entwining your arms. - I miss you, but things are fine.

You nod, looking forward. You knew that you had been absent in your friends' lives, simply because it seemed that things no longer made much sense since you were no longer with Wanda.

- Did you hear about Bucky and Sam? - she asked, and you let out a sigh.

- Yes, I... I don't know if I'm going to make it.

- Ah, Y/N, please. - She says. - It won't be the same if you are not there.

Natasha was talking about your friends' engagement party, which you were invited to a week ago. You hesitated, because all of Bucky and Sam's friends were invited. And that included Wanda.

You let out a sigh.

- I will make an effort to be there, I promise. - You assure her with a smile.

- You don't want to see Wanda, do you? - Nat asks. And you look at the ground. - Look, I just... I never really understood why you two broke up. But maybe it will be good to see her, you know. Maybe you two need to talk after all.

You shrug, feeling the familiar sadness take over your chest every time you think of Wanda.

- Let's talk about something else okay? - You ask her with a weak smile and Natasha nods, changing the subject as you two walk along the campus.

//-//

You straightened your clothes before knocking on the door. It had been almost two weeks since you had spoken to Natasha, and the day of the party had finally arrived. You saw many cars parked outside the Barnes residence, and were not surprised when one of the family friends answered the door instead of the owners.

You smiled and greeted the gentleman, saying that you were a friend of the grooms, and he smiled back when he let you in. You overheard someone say that it was better to leave the door open because of the number of guests, and you let out a small laugh.

The house was full, and it took a few minutes for you to find Bucky, who looked extremely happy. He smiled slightly surprised when he saw you.

- Hey, you're here! - he said, walking over to you. - It's so good to see you!

Bucky hugged you tight and you laughed lightly, saying that it was very good to see him too.

- How are things going? - you asked as you broke the embrace. - Are you feeling anxious?

Bucky laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Everything is working well. My parents are helping me and Sammy to organize everything. - he says, smiling. - And damn, yes. I can't wait for the ceremony.

You laugh, nodding in understanding. You talk for a few more minutes until Sam comes to check on the groom.

- Wow, look at you Wilson! - You exclaim when you see him, and he opens his arms toward you, grinning contently. You hug each other tightly. - It's good to see you, my friend.

- Yeah, it's great to see you too, stranger. - He smiles back, and then you part. - Glad you could make it.

- I couldn't miss the first wedding of the group. - You joked and made them laugh.

And then they were talking about the preparations for the wedding, and the family members who had come from far away, and you were smiling and laughing at the stories. But everything seemed to slow down when your gaze focused on someone behind Bucky, the only person who always had the ability to capture your full attention.

Wanda had just walked through the front door, and was taking off her coat. You barely noticed Pietro standing beside her, as your heart started racing at seeing her again. Sam called out to you a few times, until you blinked and looked at him.

- Wow, you really haven't changed at all. - he teased. - Three years and you are still completely out of breath when you see her.

You blushed, telling him to shut up, but Bucky and Sam just giggled. And then you swallowed hard, because Wanda was looking around and her gaze met yours.

Your gas in surprise, and you told the couple in front of you that you needed a drink, then you rushed to escape the room.

You ended up on the balcony, trying to recover from the intensity of the previous moment, completely affected by seeing Wanda again.

You thought it was the best to greet the people you knew at the party, and after talking to Clint and his girlfriend Laura, and also to Steve, Tony and Bruce, you made your way to the family circles. Bucky's parents and siblings were very friendly, and Sam's family was very warm, and they all hugged you and smiled. And then you were walking around the house again, and Nat approached you, two drinks in her hands, and one of them she handed to you.

- You really came. - She said with a smile. - Bucky just told me and I didn't believe it.

- The faith you have in me is touching. - You sneered with irony and she laughed before taking a sip of her drink. You looked at your own glass suspiciously.

- Is this champagne? - you asked, and she nodded, making you sigh. You put the glass on the balcony table near you. - Thanks but I'm driving.

Nat grumbled in understanding.

- You're running away from her, aren't you? - She remarked when she noticed your gaze wandering around the room.

- Is it that obvious?

Nat laughed lightly.

- I suppose you are going to be uncomfortable for the next few minutes, since I just told her I was coming to talk to you and invite her to join me. - She tells you and you turn your face to her sharply with a surprised expression.

- Wait what?

But Nat is smiling past you and then you feel your body tense up as Wanda's voice sounds behind your back. Nat is saying something about how nice it is that everyone is together, while you turn around and you’re probably staring, but you can't react to having Wanda in front of you. Just as beautiful as she was three years ago.

- Hi. - She said a moment later looking up at you, a slight blush on her cheeks. It took a gentle nudge from Nat's elbow on your rib for you to react.

- Hi. - you exclaimed surprised and slightly uncomfortable. - How... How are you?

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

- Good, I... i'm good. And you? - she asked hesitantly. You nodded frantically, trying to smile.

- Good, good. I... Good.

- Jesus. - You heard Natasha say as she looked at the two of you with a frown. - Okay. I'll put our names in the gymkhana, and you can continue with whatever this is by yourselves.

You scratched your neck uncomfortably as Natasha hurried to leave.

- So... how are things? - Wanda asked, putting her hands in her pockets.

Ignoring your current anxiety, you assumed a thoughtful expression for a few seconds.

- Things are fine. I’m... I... I'm graduating. - You tell clumsily, running your hands through your hair. - Yeah, I... I'm graduating in a few weeks.

- Wow, that’s actually really cool. - She comments with a smile.

- I think so. - You say, laughing nervously. - What about you, Wands, how are you? Are you still studying?

Wanda blushes at the way you call her, looking away. You barely notice the nickname escaping your lips. But then she is smiling, so you don't notice much beyond that.

- Yes, I still have a year to go, but I'm doing well. - she says. You nod in understanding, but then Pietro is joining you two, a smile on his face.

- Wow, it's really good to see you Y/N. - He remarks as soon as he reaches you two and hugs you. You laugh lightly.

- It's good to see you too, Pietro. - you say when you let go. - I like the beard, by the way.

- Thanks, I'm trying to look older. - He comments with a cocky smile, and you laugh, ignoring the nervousness of having Wanda looking right at you. - I didn't know you would be here today, I heard you were going back to California.

- Oh, yes, I... I am. - You say clumsily, gazing at Wanda quickly. - After I graduate, I'm going back home. I don't really have anything to keep me here.

- That's a shame, really. - Pietro says and you try to focus on his face and not on Wanda's frown. - But I hope you will keep in touch with everyone by skype at least.

He jokes last, and you laugh, nodding. And then he starts asking you about college and your parents, and you answer politely, trying to ignore the nervousness in your stomach that has settled with Wanda's attentive look on you.

- Pietro, would you get me something to drink, please? - Wanda asked after a moment, and you and Pietro looked at her in surprise, but she just smiled innocently, and her brother grumbled, before nodding and leaving. - Can we talk for a moment?

You blinked in confusion, but agree. Wanda took your hand next, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your face flush as she pulled you around the yard, toward a farther area.

When she stopped walking, she let go of your hand, and turned around to face you, looking nervous and a bit anxious.

- Are you really leaving? - She asked with a almost sorrowful expression.

You straightened your posture, frowning slightly.

- Yes, I... Wanda, what is it?

- Okay, I’m.. I'm going to say this once, because I have to, and then we'll go back to our life as before, okay? - She said hurriedly, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath while you just stare her. - I'm still in love with you. And I know we broke up two years ago, but I just couldn't move on. And I guess a part of me never will. - She confesses and you feel the air escape from your lungs. - And I need you to know this before you leave, because I almost couldn't come to this party because I knew you would be here. And I can't believe that we were this intense and amazing thing only just for me. - She says last. But you are in shock, so Wanda swallows dryly. - Damn, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything and…

- I love you. - You confess interrupting her, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.

- W-what?

- I love you. - You repeat breathlessly as you are moving forward and kissing Wanda firmly. She stumbles back in surprise, but you keep your hands on her face, until she sighs in delight and kisses you back with the same intensity. It feels as good as you remember, but eventually you part breathlessly and start talking with your forehead touching. - I'm sorry I ruined things between us. I was stupid, childish and a bloody idiot. But I'm completely in love with you and i have always been.

Wanda lets out a surprised laugh, her eyes filled with tears. And then she kisses you again.

- God, we are a complete disaster. - She comments as you separate, making you laugh lightly. And then she swallows dryly, stroking your face with her thumbs. - What are we going to do now?

You smile, hugging her waist.

- I'm not going anywhere if you ask me to stay. - You tell her, making her sigh with surprise and happiness.

- Be my girlfriend, then. - She asks, and you let out a giggle.

- I'd love to. - You say, and then back away a little. - We'll make it work this time, Wanda. I'm going to love you the right way now.

Wanda nods in understanding, looking at you tenderly.

- You have always loved me the right way. - she says. - We just didn't know how to show it properly.

You sigh.

- I missed you. - You say, bringing your foreheads together.

- I missed you too. - She breathlessly retorts before kissing you again.

The kiss intensified in the next second, and you ended up pushing Wanda against the outer wall of the house, and she sighed into your mouth. God, you missed her taste. Then she sighed against your lips, and you slowed down, because you are literally in an engagement party.

When you parted, you let out a breathless giggle.

- We should get back to the party. - Wanda comments, her face close to yours. You grumble in agreement, before kissing her again, your tongue running slowly and sensually across her mouth, making a warmth rise in the pit of your stomach.

- Wow. - You say breathlessly a moment later, breaking the kiss for breath. Wanda's hands are dangerously low. She lets out a breathless chuckle, her face flushed. You swallow dryly, clearing your throat. - We'd better go before I can't stop.

Wanda smiles, nodding her head in agreement. And then you took a step back, and it was easier to breathe and think clearly.

When you returned to the party, holding hands, Natasha stared at you two and sighed, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to Pietro, who had a smug smile on his face. She complained that she had bet that you two would only get back together after the party, while Pietro had bet that it would be during. You and Wanda's faces reddened, but you laughed at the story.

Two years later, you visited Bucky and Sam, but now, the wedding invitation in your hand was yours.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wandamaximoffxreader #marvel imagines #wandamaximoff x reader

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

Text

You’re The Reason | Eric Matthews

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: My first Boy Meets World fic! Gah! I hope you like this! Couldn’t stay away from the JATP boys though, so it’s kinda like a JATP x BMW crossover... Lemme know what you think!

Pairing: Eric x Fem!Reader

Song(s) used: none

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, party

Words: 4,028

Eric Matthews. The goofy, charming oldest boy of Alan and Amy. My best friend since forever. Our parents always told us the story about how we met in the sandbox in Kindergarten. I was building sandcastles when Jason, Eric’s first best friend, came to ruin them. Eric, being the charmer he always had been, told Jason off and pushed him out of the sandbox before helping me rebuild my sand castle. Ever since that day, the two of us had been the best of friends.

We did everything together. Everything from play dates to eating ice cream to going to middle school and eventually high school. Though we never graduated together as my parents had to move when I was 16. We moved to Los Angeles and never returned to Philadelphia. Eric and I were so torn. We had promised we would keep in contact and the first few months were hard, but we eventually found a rhythm in our long-distance friendship.

Every evening, we would call each other except for the weekends as those were date-weekends where both of us went out on dates. But come Sunday evening, we’d both be on the phone, telling the other what had happened during said dates.

During summer vacation, Eric would come to L.A. to visit me or I’d go back to Philly, just so we could hang out together for a few days. Those had always been my favorite days. We’d reconnect and find that spark again we always used to have, which, in its turn, brought us closer and made the next few months a little less hard when all we could hear was each other’s voice.

Last summer, however, I realized that I’d rather kiss those beautiful pink lips than stare at them as he talked about yet another girl he took out over the weekend and made out with. It stung, to say the least, but I couldn’t tell him how I felt. We were miles apart from one another, it would just hurt more.

Though what hurt even worse was when Eric called me one time in the middle of the night, crying. Confused and worried, I listened to him as he let everything he was feeling out of his system.

“Mister Feeny is retiring, Cory’s going to college and eloped with Topanga tonight and I just– everything’s changing and I don’t know what to do about it. I wanna stop time and just go back to the way things were. All of us in high school, Cory and Topanga fighting over God-knows-what or Shawn and Cory getting into even more trouble. And you… Not miles away from me…”

I choked back tears as I listened to him. He sounded so broken, so lost. I wished I could just hold him and let him cry as he spoke about how he felt. I wished I was in Philadelphia instead of Los Feliz, a place I didn’t quite belong.

“I’m sorry, Eric, I wish I could make things better for you…” I said, my voice just above a whisper, afraid I would cry if I spoke any louder.

Eric sighed on the other side of the line. “Why don’t you just– come home? Study at Pennbrook with me?” I stuttered and stumbled over my words, unsure what to say to him.

It wasn’t like I thought about it. I’m an adult, I could change my whole life around and move back to Philadelphia. Back to Eric. But while that sounded all beautiful and wonderful and like a dream come true, I couldn’t just drop everything here. I had my new friends, a college degree I needed to finish.

“Come on, babe. You know you want to…” Eric pleaded, knowing all-too-well what was going on in my mind right now even though he couldn’t see me. “I know I want you to.”

I heaved in a deep breath. “I can’t, Eric… I gotta finish my degree here. I gotta–” Just as I wanted to continue summing up reasons as to why I wouldn’t be able to go back to him, four guys I knew like the back of my hand entered my dorm and jumped onto my bed. I didn’t even need to see who it was to know who it was. “Guys– I’m on the phone here,” I scolded them as the floppy-haired guy gave me his best smoulder. “Lukas, no.”

“It’s alright, y/n,” I heard Eric say, though I could tell it wasn’t actually okay. “You go back to your friends. You stay put. Okay? Whatever makes you happiest.”

“But you make me h–” Before I could even finish my sentence, Eric had hung up the phone. “Happiest…” I mumbled before placing the horn back on the receiver.

“You okay?” the blonde guy I knew best as Alex Mercer asked me solemnly.

I pressed my lips together. “No– not really…”

Luke wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled into my neck while Reggie sat on the end of my bed with his legs crossed. “I think you ought to go visit him,” he said.

“What?”

“No, seriously. You miss him, he misses you and you clearly need each other right now. Go back to Philly, y/n. Even if it’s just for the weekend.” For once, Reggie actually spoke some sense.

“Yeah, I mean, you clearly miss each other and you need each other right now. And maybe, whilst you’re there, you can figure out whether you’d wanna move back to Philly or come back to us,” Alex added.

I had met Luke, Reggie, Alex and Bobby during orientation day, along with Rose, my roommate. There hadn’t been a day where we didn’t spend time together. All six of us were sewn to the hip. Wherever one went, the others went too. A lot of people called Rose and I their groupies as the four of them had started a band way back in high school. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say those four were actually married to one another.

But to be fair, Alex and Reggie were speaking some truth now. I did miss Eric. I missed him tremendously. And maybe, once there, I could see that Los Angeles was truly where I belonged or if I should stay in Philadelphia with Eric… It was the ultimate life test.

I heaved in a deep breath before lifting my hand to ring the doorbell at apartment 3E. Nerves bunched in the pit of my stomach and my hands were getting clammy. I wasn’t even sure if Eric was home. I wasn’t even sure if coming over was such a splendid idea. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Even less so when a tall fiery red-haired girl opened up the door. My throat dried up for a second. Did I get the wrong apartment? Eric hadn’t told me about a girl roommate or anything. All I knew was that he lived with Jack and Shawn. Though I figured since Shawn had gotten into Pennbrook too, he might’ve moved into a dorm with Cory.

“Hi, can I–” the girl stopped in her tracks as she let her eyes glide over me. “You’re y/n, aren’t you?” Her lips curled up into a smile. “Eric has told me so much about you!”

The nerves in my stomach made room for fluttery butterflies. Eric talked about me. Even to girls as pretty as this one. Knowing Eric the way I do, I didn’t think he ever would. ‘Girl repellant’ he’d call it.

“Uhm… Yeah… I wanted to surprise him… Is he here?”

The girl chuckled. “Believe it or not, but he’s actually in class right now.”

“Eric? In class?”

She nodded her head, her lips curling up into a smirk. “I’m heading to campus now, you wanna come? His class is almost over.”

It definitely beat sitting here, waiting for him.

“Sure,” I replied and the girl quickly went to grab her stuff before walking out and guiding me towards the elevator again.

“I’m Rachel, by the way. I just moved in a couple days ago,” she said while pushing the button to call the elevator.

Rachel. Roommate Rachel. She was definitely Eric’s type… A girl.

“Eric hasn’t told me about you yet. For a second, I thought I was at the wrong apartment,” I said, chuckling a little.

Rachel and I got into the elevator and she told me about how she wound up living with Jack and Eric. I had to admit to myself that I was only slightly jealous of the moves the two boys had made on her. Not that I cared about Jack hitting on Rachel, but I did care about Eric doing it.

The red-haired fury led me towards campus and we talked all the way there. Mostly about Eric. She asked me questions about our childhood and I told her every single story about him. It wasn’t hard talking about Eric. Everything we went through together flowed out of me like a waterfall. A waterfall of Eric-filled stories.

“Oh, look. He’s at the Student Union, as predicted,” Rachel said, pointing towards where Eric, Jack, Shawn and Cory were seated on the sofas, sipping coffee.

A smile involuntarily crept its way up to my face. Eric Matthews. Seeing him now made my heart beat faster and my stomach fill up with all sorts of butterflies. My LA boys were right. I did miss him tremendously.

“Come on, let’s go say hi!” Rachel urged, pulling me along by my wrist.

“Don’t you have a class to go to?”

She shook her red mane. “I’d rather see this beautiful reunion,” she said.

Cory was the first one who met my eyes. His laughter made room for confusion to then turn into delight. “Y/N?” he exclaimed, causing everyone’s head to turn my way before he got up to embrace me. Jack and Shawn hugged me next and when I turned to Eric, he was still seated on the couch with his cup of coffee halfway to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear nervously. “What? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

His wide eyes turned back to normal and as he put his cup on the coffee table in front of him, he blabbed while getting up to hug me. “Wha– of course I’m happy to see you, y/n. I just didn’t expect you to come? Don’t you have classes and stuff?”

I inhaled the familiar scent of Eric Matthews. As my senses filled up with him, my nerves finally calmed down. I was home.

“I wanted to surprise you…”

His hands cupped my face as he regarded me. He inspected every inch of my face as if to see if I was complete and really there. “And surprised I am,” he whispered.

Shawn handed me a cup of coffee as we all settled back onto the couch. They asked me questions about LA and about college in LA, and I answered each and every one of them. It felt good being with this gang again. It was like coming back home.

Eric took me everywhere that weekend. Friday night, we went to Chubbie’s. On Saturday, he took me back home where I reacquainted with Alan and Amy, and we spent some time with Morgan.

Now it was Saturday night and we were all at the club for a good party. I was three drinks in and chatting with Rachel at the bar. I had grown close to her over the two days I had been here. Just like Rose, she always knew exactly what to say. And she listened. She listened to all my sorrows and worries. She really listened.

“I think you’re in love with Eric,” she stated before taking a swig of her beer.

“What? No! I–” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I am in love with Eric…”

She let out a cackle. “Ha! I knew it!”

“I can’t act up on my feelings though, Rachel. We live miles apart. Being friends is already hard enough, I don’t even wanna know what being a couple would do to us. If Eric would reciprocate my feelings, that is.”

“Would you believe me if I told you Eric is in love with you too?”

“No.”

“Well, he is! The way his eyes light up when he talks about you… It’s pure love. Sure, he can be a bit daft and he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but when he talks about you, he almost becomes poetic.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I said and sipped from my beer again.

Rachel shook her head at me. “See for yourself.” She pointed somewhere behind me and the second I turned around, Eric was in front of me with those big, sparkly eyes of his and that goofy smile I’d come to love.

“Dance with me, baby!” he shouted and pulled me along to the dance floor. As I looked back at Rachel, she gave me a knowing look. She wasn’t right. She couldn’t be.

“I need you to stay,” he slurred, clearly having drank one too many beers. “Please, can’t you stay?”

“Eric,” I sighed, “You know I can’t. I’ve got –”

“A degree to finish and friends to go back to, I know, I know…”

I pressed my lips together in a thin line as I watched him. He was still moving, swaying from side to side to the music, but there was a lot less enthusiasm behind than before we started talking.

“Hey,” I started and placed my hands on his shoulders. “You know I would stay if I could, right? I just – I can’t, Eric.”

“Yes, you can, y/n. You can stay here, transfer to Pennbrook, live with me and Jack and Rachel. Be here. With me.”

His offer sounded alluring. A little too alluring. The alcohol coursing in my veins almost made me say ‘yes’, but the sober part of me knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. “I need a better reason than that, Eric.”

“I’ve got more reasons for you to stay.”

“Gimme one.”

Before I could properly process what was happening, Eric grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine in a deep kiss. As we pulled apart for a moment, I had to take a breather and process what had just happened.

“That’s a good reason,” I whispered before kissing him again.

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that we’d actually wanted to do that for a long time, but the rest of the night we spent together, making out in a corner of the club until Rachel and Jack pulled us apart and brought us back to the apartment. Eric and I fell asleep together on the couch, cuddled up. The place where I’d wanted to fall asleep for months now. The place where I belonged.

It felt weird waking up in his arms. Not that we hadn’t done that before, but the events that preceded it were new. I hadn’t ever been kissed the way Eric had kissed me last night. It was with so much passion and love that filled up all my senses, that sobered me up almost straight away.

Though, when he woke, it was like nothing happened.

He didn’t speak about it, and changed the subject whenever I tried to. I didn’t know what had gone wrong. It was probably a mistake on his part. He probably didn’t want to kiss me. It was probably the alcohol speaking and not his heart. He didn’t love me the same way I loved him.

It was all a mistake.

“How was your night?” Alan asked playfully when we entered the Matthews’ kitchen for lunch on Sunday.

“Good! We had fun,” I replied and glanced over at Eric. He had jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he moved over towards the fridge.

“It was okay,” he spoke and shoved a knife right through my chest.

I had no clue what I had done wrong or what had gone wrong. All I knew was that Eric was giving me the cold shoulder. The kiss must’ve been a mistake. It must’ve been something he didn’t even want to do and it was just the alcohol taking over. And now it had ruined our entire friendship.

“When’s your flight back home?” Amy queried.

I placed my knife and fork down as I had just finished the delicious lunch Amy had made all of us. “Tonight at eight,” I responded with a nervous smile. My stomach churned when I felt Eric tense up next to me.

“Back to Northridge then, huh? Must be a big change going from cold Philadelphia back to warm and sunny LA,” Alan said with a smile and I nodded my head.

“It’s gonna be quite the di–” before I could finish my sentence, Eric had shoved his chair back and without uttering a word, he stormed out of the kitchen. I could feel my heart break in my chest. He seemed angry. Frustrated. All of the things I didn’t want him to be before I went back to LA.

“I’ll go check on him,” I said and carefully slid my chair back before following Eric outside.

He sat on the cushioned bench where we have had many a talk before as the sun set and the stars appeared into the sky. Though right now, it seemed awfully dark and gloomy. Nothing like what it used to feel like.

“Eric, are you okay?” I plopped down next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He scoffed. “No, I’m not okay. You know, I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask you to visit me. I didn’t ask and so I couldn’t prepare for you to leave… Again.”

“Eric, I’m sorry. I thought it would be nice to surprise you. I–” I stopped talking as soon as he shot up from the bench and took a few steps away from me. He looked angry and sad at the same time and it broke my heart even further.

“Don’t you know how much it kills me to see you go every time? But at least in the summer, I can prep myself for the goodbye that’s about to follow. I can prep myself for the heartache and now that I didn’t see it coming, I’m not ready for you to go.”

I opened my mouth to say something else, but before I could, he gave me another glare and then stormed off to God-knows-where. I couldn’t move. I was frozen to the bench. My best friend just yelled at me and ran off. I didn’t even say goodbye to him.

“Miss y/l/n, what a surprise,” a familiar voice sounded, causing me to snap my head towards the older man that stood in the next-door garden on the other side of the white fence.

I smiled at him, but I knew it wasn’t genuine and I knew he knew it wasn’t. “Hey Mister Feeny.”

“Are you okay?” he asked and opened the small gate. He made a beeline towards me and sat down on the bench next to me.

I heaved in a deep breath, breathing in the familiarity of my old teacher. “No, I –” I mulled over my words. “I missed Eric, so I came to surprise him but I think it might’ve not been such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause now he’s mad at me because he couldn’t prepare himself for me leaving…” I mumbled, focusing on the rings on my fingers as I twisted them around and around. “I don’t know what to do, Mister Feeny. I wanna stay with Eric, but I’ve got a life in LA. I’ve got friends and I’ve got Northridge and my family still lives there too…”

I looked up to see my favorite teacher regard me with such a tender and familiar look. He felt sorry for me and I also knew there was a pep-talk coming in a few seconds. Though at that moment, I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood for that pep-talk.

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Miss Lawrence when she came to me with her dilemma,” he started wistfully, the only way Mister Feeny ever spoke. “You stay at Northridge unless you have a good reason not to.”

My mind immediately went to last night’s events when Eric kissed me after he told me he had reasons for me to stay. If I had a reason, it would be Eric. Eric would be the one and only reason for me to move back to Philadelphia and I couldn’t lie when I said Eric weighs out every other reason I had for going back to LA.

“I think you know what to do, Miss y/l/n,” he said before placing a comforting hand on my shoulder and getting up again.

“Hey, Mister Feeny,” he stopped halfway to his house. “You’re a good teacher, you know that?” The genuine and heartwarming smile that curled Feeny’s lips upwards made me feel nostalgic. I had missed that man.

“Thank you, Miss y/l/n. And you’re a good student.”

As Mister Feeny returned to his home, I couldn’t help but think everything over. Every thought, every moment of the past weekend seeped back into my mind. There was only one way to stop my thoughts and I knew exactly what it was.

“Y/N?” His voice caused me to snap out of my thoughts. There he was. Finally. “What are you still doing here?” he asked, visibly getting nervous. “I thought you’d gone home?”

I patted the spot next to me on the cushioned bench. Eric hesitantly took the spot, but I could tell he was tense and didn’t quite know what to do. He didn’t look at me and his hands fiddled around in his lap.

“I am home.”

Now he looked up at me. Confusion was written all over his face, a look I had seen on him before. The reminder of everything I ever told him that confused him made me giggle a little.

“What do you mean? Don’t you have to get back to LA? Back home?” He turned his face back to the sky. It was starting to get dark out and the stars above us were starting to make an appearance, along with the bright moon.

“I talked to Feeny and he told me that I should go back to Northridge…” I watched Eric’s jaw clench. “Unless I had a good reason not to.”

He turned his head to face me again. “Is there a good reason?”

I sighed. “I thought about it. I’ve got reasons to go back. Like my degree and my friends out there, my family…” Eric slowly nodded his head and I knew his mind was already preparing him for me to say I was going to go back. “But there’s one reason that makes me wanna stay here. One reason that outweighs all the other reasons.”

“And what’s that?”

A soft smile befell my lips as I leaned in and cautiously pressed my lips to his. Last night’s memories seeped back into my mind.

“You’re the reason, Eric Matthews.”

He smiled as his eyes darted from mine to my lips and back before he fully kissed me on the lips. I couldn’t help but giggle before melting completely into the kiss, into him. After years of being best friends and months of pining for him, I was finally kissing my best friend. I had finally given into my feelings.

And I was making the right decision. I knew that now. I knew that moving back to Philadelphia would be the right choice. I would be moving back home. Back with Eric. Close to Cory and Shawn and Jack and Topanga. All of my friends from when we were younger. Home.

The only thing left to do now was break the news to my friends in LA…

But that was a problem for later.

Everything Taglist: @wanniiieeee @phantompogues @sweetpeasturtleneck @bonobos-candy-bar @n0wornever @calamitykaty @praetorofthelegion

Boy Meets World Taglist: @90ssunsetcurve

Crossed out names are the users I was unable to tag. Please make sure everything in your settings is set so I am allowed to tag you or if you changed your url, please drop me a message/ask!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

#boy meets world #eric matthews #eric matthews x reader #eric matthews x fem!reader #eric matthews fic #jatp x bmw #jatp x bmw crossover #cw: alcohol #cw: party

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