#on the wrong boring tuesday night~ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quintinh43 · 9 months ago

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Simple Truths Pt. 1 | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinns got some feelings, and so does y/n.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, depictions of anxiety, food, sickeningly fluffy domesticity. Use of the name Olivia.

Wc: 7.2k

Notes at the end!!

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Quinn was the only other person who had a key to your apartment—given to him to use in case of emergency only. So when the front door burst open at 10 pm on a Tuesday, and Quinn barged in, suit askew and hair a mess, looking very frazzled, you dropped your bowl of ice cream and paused your movie as you approached him hurriedly.

"Y/n," he breaths, doubling over and panting with his hands resting on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. Your hands hovered around his face, unsure of what was wrong. Decidedly, you sit him down on the couch and hand him a bottle of water. Kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees.

He chugs the water like a man left out in the desert sun. "Quinn, what's wrong? Are you alright?" You question carefully as he caps the water bottle. "Did you run here?"

He nods, leaning forward, head in his hands, sighing. He looks down at you, cheeks flushed. Your apartment buildings aren't far from each other, but for him to run for three straight kilometres and practically break down your apartment door, something must be terribly wrong.

A knot of despair coils in your stomach. "Is it your family? The team? Gotta tell me what's wrong so I can help you Quinny."

"I just wanted to come over," he mumbles.

It takes a moment for his words to process, and then you are throwing his half-full water bottle at his head. He ducks, professional athlete reflexes apparent. You stand up, pushing his chest so he flops backward on your couch.

"Are you joking right now?" You say incredulously, arms crossed over your chest like a displeased coach, "You did not bust down my apartment door at 10 pm on a school night, acting like someone died cause you just wanted to come over."

"Ok I wasn't that dramatic," Quinn says, loosening his tie and dropping it on your floor.

You glare at him, as you reclaim your spot on the couch, pulling the blanket over your bare legs. "You ran here."

"Well, i-" Quinn's mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response.

"Close your mouth, Quinn, you'll catch flies" you snap, grabbing your bowl of ice cream from the coffee table.

"Ok, maybe I was being dramatic," he says with a sheepish smile.

"What happened to cell phones? Are we in the Stone Age? No text? No call? Just break down my apartment door?" You ask raising an eyebrow at him.

Quinn's cheeks flush, as he suddenly realizes how absurd the situation he painted was. "I was just bored" he shrugs sheepishly.

You look at him like he has grown two extra heads. "Quinn, I cannot believe you interrupted my night, acting like it was an emergency, because you were bored"

He gives you another sheepish smile. "Get comfy or get out" you instruct poking him in the ribs with your foot.

"My clothes still in the same place?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your ankle. You nod, un-pausing the movie as he drops your foot and, grabs his tie off the floor on his way to your bedroom.

You hear him shuffling around your bedroom, presumably hanging up his suit and grabbing a change of clothes before he turns on the shower. Within ten minutes, he's joined you on the couch, freshly showered and in a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt with his own little bowl of ice cream.

He sits across from you, and you toss the blanket over his lap and tuck your feet under his thighs. You pause the movie again and stare him down with a look that demands an explanation. Because no way, he broke into your apartment and practically gave you a heart attack cause he was bored.

Quinn sighs, promptly forgetting that his hair is wet as he runs a hand through it. He makes a face at the uncomfortable feeling and wipes it dry against his shirt. You can't help but laugh at him.

"I don't know" he sighs "I just started to feel super overwhelmed, and everything felt like it was closing in on me, and I just needed to get out."

"How are you feeling now?" you ask stealing his ice cream since he's not eating it.

"Like I overreacted, because now I feel perfectly fine. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." His voice goes quiet at the end, and your heart pangs for him.

"No sweat Quinny, I'm glad you're feeling better." you hum, licking ice cream off the spoon. Quinn watches you intently, not for the reason you think as you hold out a spoon of ice cream for him. He leans in, closing his lips around the spoon, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

Your stomach somersaults and you quickly look away, pulling the spoon back. After nearly six years of friendship, two of which were spent yearning for Quinn to love you as more than a friend and the other four spent accepting that he would never see you as anything more, he still sometimes stole your breath and made your heart flip when he looked at you a certain way.

You had met the first time he came to Vancouver, scoping for apartments. You were nineteen, working part-time at a coffee shop not far from Rogers arena when a frazzled-looking Quinn and his parents walked in. They had ordered coffee and pastries, and while you were serving them, you couldn't help but hear Quinn's anxieties about how he would "never find a place to stay in time for the beginning of the season" and how he would end up sleeping out of a hotel.

Ellen had sighed, trying to reassure him for the millionth time that everything would be ok, while Jim had been in contact with the real estate agent.

As nineteen-year-old you placed a spinach quiche in front of Quinn, and you spoke up. Making a decision that would change your life for the better. Your roommate had recently moved out of the apartment, and you hadn't yet found a replacement.

Ellen's eyes lit up, and you wrote down your number for her. A month later, Quinn Hughes was your new roommate. The two of you quickly became good friends, and even though you only shared an apartment for a few months, your friendship only grew stronger with time.

The rest is history.

"I think... I'm missing Jack and Luke a lot these days." Quinn says with a sigh as he takes the bowl of ice cream from you. You cross your arms with a fake pout, and Quinn rolls his eyes, feeding you a spoon.

You don't say anything yet. He's not done talking, and you don't wanna scare him away by interrupting too soon, or saying the wrong thing before he's done talking.

"And I think, with this being the worst we've done all season, everything just feels like a jumbled foggy mess."

Quinn sighs for the millionth time. He places the empty bowl on the coffee table and wishes he could sink deeper into the couch. You yelp as he yanks your legs apart and crawls between them, laying his head on your chest. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to cuddle, but the manner in which he just did so has you turning red, you're glad he can't see your face right now.

One of your arms comes around his back, your fingers making patterns, while the other delves into his hair. "You can't make fun of me" he whispers.

"Never Quinny," you say resting your chin atop his head.

"I feel like I'm failing" he sighs, "I feel like I'm failing the team, and my brothers and my parents and you. And I just- it's hard. Its all so hard"

Your heart hurts for Quinn at his confession.

"Quinn you could never fail me. Or your parents or your brothers, or your team," you say softly, fingers scratching his scalp lightly. He hums, eyes fluttering closed. You can feel his eyelashes tickle your collarbones.

"I love you, your parents' love, and your brothers love you, and no matter what, we are here for you. Just because you are having a bad stint doesn't mean you are failing as a captain. You are a team. You win together, and you lose together, and it's not all on you."

Quinn sighs again, pulling away from you. He sits on his knees facing you, tongue darting against his lips in nervous habit. "But what if-"

"Hush, Quinny" you pull him back on top of you, wrapping him in the safe cocoon of your arms "There's no But what ifs. You are an amazing captain and brother and son and leader. Everyone in your life is so lucky to have you. You are doing so so brilliantly."

You lay in comfortable silence, stroking his hair softly. Holding him close and listened to his breathing. What you would give to keep him in the safety of your arms forever. To grind all his insecurities into dust, and show him what a brilliant human he is.

"Move in with me" he speaks so quietly, that you don't know if you heard him right. "It'll be just like old times."

"I'll think about it" you say softly. He breathes out a relieved sigh and plays the movie. The dull ache in your chest turns sharp. After four fucking years of getting over him, he comes to you with vulnerability stark in his baby blues, and that's all it takes to undo the last four years of work. Damn him. Damn it all.

The two of you fall asleep tangled on the couch, with the movie playing in the background. You wake with a crick in your neck and Quinn half underneath you, an arm around your waist holding you close to him. It isn't unusual, but after last night it fills you with such a feeling of uncertainty that it's borderline uncomfortable.

Your phone reads 5:00 am, and you huff, prying his arm off of you. He groans, arm tightening around your waist, so you can't escape his hold.

"Let me up Quinn," you say, tapping his cheek.

"Don' wanna," he grumbles, "so warm."

"I'll bite you," you warn.

"No, you won't," Quinn says against your hair, sounding slightly more awake. You smirk, turning your head and biting his Bicep.

"Ow! Y/n/n, what the hell!" He groans, shooting up into sitting position. His arm is still around you, and you bump your head against his with a laugh, "I warned you."

You get up from on top of him, grabbing the ice cream bowls from the coffee table and discarding them in the sink. "Get your ass up Quintin. We're going on a run."

"I don't have clothes" he tries as an excuse, flopping back down on the couch. You snort at the lamest excuse he has ever made. He has nearly everything at your apartment. It was basically as if he lived with you already.

Hell, there was even an extra pair of his skates in your coat closet. Honestly moving in wouldn't even be that hard. He'd probably just have to bring his hockey bag over. Except, he had the nicer apartment. So logically it would make more sense for you to move into his place.

"Nice try Quinn, get up and get changed or I'm coming back with a bucket of ice water," you say, going to your bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for your run. It takes you less than fifteen minutes to be fully dressed, and by the time you're done, Quinn is up and ready, tossing you a protein bar.

"I forgot my phone at home," he says sheepishly, taking a bite out of his own protein bar.

"You'll live," you say patting his chest as you pass him to put on your runners.

"I can't believe you want me to run without music, you heathen" he gasps offendedly, grabbing his pair of runners that he keeps at your house.

"We can share," you say, tossing him an air pod, a gift he had given you a while back. He catches it and tucks it into his ear without complaint. That is until you turn on the music.

"I'll never understand the music you run to" he grumbles, and you take the elevator down to the main floor.

"It's about the beat of the music" you sigh, probably for the millionth time. For all his complaining, he doesn't actually mind it. The elevator stops and the main floor, and you and Quinn both wave to the doorman as you head out.

As soon as you exit the building, you take off. Quinn is unprepared. "Hey! What- wait up!" He calls, taking off after you. You cackle as you run farther away from him. Albeit you only sprint away from him for less than a block, and then you are stopped by a red light. He is by your side before the light turns green and you grin at him, keeping your feet moving.

"Ready Freddy?" You grin, as the seconds count down before the light turn green.

"Yes, I am Sam," he responds with a dopey smile so blinding you feel your heart go faint.

The light turns green, and the two of you take off together this time. Although you technically have to run just a little faster, because Quinn's legs are longer. After two more stop lights, you cut into the park, and this is where the real view began. You run along the coastline, the fogginess of the morning clinging to the surface of the ocean. The mountains loom in the background, and you sigh. Vancouver's scenery couldn't be beat.

After 45 minutes and roughly seven-ish kilometres, you've both worked up a good sweat as you enter your apartment building. "What do you have today?" You ask Quinn, in between deep breaths as you being your heart rate back down.

"Practice at 8:00 and that's it for the day," he says, handing you back your air pod.

"I'll drive you back to yours, on my way to work?"

"Yeah that's good" he hums as you unlock your door.

"I'm gonna shower, and get dressed, do what you will," you say, toeing off your shoes and kicking them haphazardly into the closet. Quinn rolls his eyes as he straightens them out and puts his beside them.

You strip your sweaty clothes off and make sure your hair is out if the way, before hopping into the steamy shower. You're in there long enough to make sure you are clean, and then you're getting dressed. Brushing your hair into a neat bun, you pick out an easy outfit, that you know won't make you hate your life as the day drags on, and with that, you're back in the kitchen.

Quinn hums to himself as he flips eggs for breakfast. There's a glass waiting for you on the counter, with a pink straw sticking out of it. Quinn's own glass is sitting on the counter beside him half finished. He spots you coming out of your room and smiles, sliding the glass towards you. "Smoothie," he says.

"Oh, also, I didn't know what you wanted for lunch. You have some salmon and potatoes in the fridge, and some Thai chicken or I can make you something quick if you want?" He offers, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

There's a smiley face in your toast. The domesticity of it all makes your chest ache. He's in your kitchen, making you breakfast, and packing you lunch. "Oh!" His eyes light up as he slides onto the barstool beside you, "And I made your coffee" he points to your trusty travel mug that you never go to work without, that's filled to the brim with coffee.

"Thanks, Quinn" you mumble around your mouthful of eggs. The overwhelming feeling of if only this was real takes root in your chest, and you take a deep breath fighting off the urge to cry. It could be real, but not in the way you want it.

You eat your breakfast silently, completely forgetting that Quinn had asked you a question until he nudges your knee. "You're thinking loud," he says softly, "wanna get it off your mind?"

"Oh, it’s nothing" you smile, albeit unconvincingly, but Quinn doesn't push.

"So...Lunch?" He asks, taking both your empty plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Oh, actually I was thinking why don't you spin by for lunch? The kids haven't seen you in a while, and if practice is at 8 then you'll get off at the perfect time to come have lunch with me and spend the rest of your day pestering me at work?" You say, all trace of your anxious stupor gone.

Quinn lights up at the idea. "Yeah, of course, that sounds like fun."

Visiting you at work is one of his favourite things, especially when he gets to have lunch with you and hang around afterwards. And as an elementary school teacher, whenever Superstar Canuck Captain Quinn Hughes is in your classroom, it becomes the most popular room in the building. With students and staff.

"That still doesn't answer what you want for lunch," he says poking you with his foot.

"Surprise me" you shrug. You finish off your smoothie with a slurp and put it in the dishwasher before gathering your things.

Quinn is still doddling around your kitchen, "Alright, let's go, I don't wanna make you late for practice" you say slipping on your shoes.

"I'm coming, I'm coming" he slips on his shoes, and tucks a bag of snacks into your school bag, grinning at you knowingly. You roll your eyes at him, locking your apartment door behind you. The drive to his place is less than five minutes, and Quinn spends the whole drive criticizing your music.

By the time you stop in front of his building, you're ready to smite him. "Get out of my car Hughes or I'll throw you out." He sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes, unlocking it for him to get out. Sometimes you think the only reason your friendship has lasted so long is because you are good at dealing with children, and sometimes Quinn acts just like a child.

"See you later Y/n/n" he grins.

"Text me when you get in!" You say, before he shuts the door.

He salutes you with two fingers and jogs into his building. You wait until you receive a text from him before pulling out of the parking spot and heading to school.

The hours leading to lunch are excruciatingly long. The temptation to spill the surprise that Quinn is coming to visit today is nearly worth the excitement the kids will have. But you know the looks on their faces will be so much more worth it when he shows up unannounced.

As you mark assignments, and the kids silently read, your phone buzzes with a text from him. It's as if he can sense when you're thinking about him.

Q: I'm out front when you're ready.

You glance at the clock: two minutes until the bell rings, and then you're free.

You: Be out in 5

You stand up, addressing your class "Everyone can put their books away, and go get your jackets and outdoor shoes on, and as soon as the bell rings, you may go."

The scramble to the cubbies is immediate, as kids kick off their shoes and yank on their jackets. They line up at the door, bouncing on their toes. You pull on your own light jacket and wait at the front of your class with them, chatting to the talkative ones. The bell rings and they run from the classroom like it's on fire.

Rolling your eyes at their enthusiasm, you grab the sign that says "Ms. Y/l/n has left the building" so that your kids know to ask Mr. Farmer if they need anything from the classroom and lock the doors. You let the office know that you'll be gone for the duration of lunch and with that, you escape the building.

Quinn is waiting out front in his car. The one he drives when he wants to look less suspicious. You snort to yourself, as you open the door and slide into the passenger seat.

"What's funny?" Quinn asks immediately, raising an eyebrow at you as you do your seat belt.

"I was just thinking that it's funny you have two cars, one that you bought to drive specifically when you don't wanna be easily recognizable"

"Oh I'm sorry," Quinn teases, pulling out of his parking spot carefully "Have I offended the lady by not picking you up in my Porsche?"

Something about watching him drive makes your stomach flutter. The slope of his neck as he looks over his shoulder, the prominence of the veins in his hands as he grips the steering wheel. Your throat goes dry, and you look away quickly as the thoughts spiral darker, into thoughts you should not be having, about your best friend and his car. Especially not while sitting beside him, in said car.

"Earth to Y/n?" Quinn says, poking you in the cheek, you turn your head, instinctively biting his finger. He hisses and yanks it away. "You've been spacey since this morning, what's up?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "just thinking."

"Well don't think too hard, I wouldn't wanna strain your limited brain cells" he teases, flicking you on the forehead. You glare at him, crossing your arms like a child. His demeanour from last night has done a complete 180°. You know he feels bad for telling you all his feelings, but you also know that he'll bring it up again when he's ready.

There's silence between you two, accompanied by the base of a pop song that plays low through his speakers. It's uncomfortable. And that's scary because silence with Quinn isn't supposed to be uncomfortable. He's supposed to be the one constant in your life. Solid, sturdy and unchanging in the face of the unknown. And somehow, in the course of one night and weighty conversation, he has become the unknown. Why did he have to come into your life and unearth all these feelings?

His hand is reaching for yours, and he laces your fingers together, stopping the nervous twitch of your fingers, and your heart stutters even more.

"If it's about moving in with me, don't overthink it," he says with all the simplicity in the world "I'll understand if you don't wanna do it. I mean, we aren't nineteen anymore, you are your own person."

And before you really know you are saying,"I'll do it!" Comes spilling from your lips. Quinn looks at you, eyes hopefully like you've never seen before, and he squeezes your hand.

"You will?"

You nod, and he squeezes your hand again, the grin on his face so bright it could light up the darkest of nights. And at that moment, the only thing you know is that Quinn was derived from whatever Divine power there was because no smile should be able to chase away all premonitions of darkness like his does.

Lunch is burgers and fries, at some high-end restaurant that Quinn likes. You talk about everything, and nothing all at once, and once more comfort settles in your bones like an old friend.

"Did you tell the kids I'm coming?" Quinn asks, stealing a fry off your plate. You smack his hand with a glare and he simply steals another one.

"No, I was thinking you could pop out from behind my desk or something."

Quinn rolls his eyes with a smile. "Sure, that'll be fun" he'd be lying if he said the way you talked about the kids didn't stir something funny in his chest. "Is Olivia there today?" He asks casually.

Something not akin to jealousy sparks under your skin. Olivia Daunt. A teacher down the hall who enjoyed making underhanded comments about you to anyone who would listen. And Somehow she was always needing to borrow stuff from your room, whenever Quinn was around.

"Unfortunately" you grumble, pushing away your clean plate. Quinn finishes a second after you, and he's signalling the Waiter for the cheque. You slap your card on the table, and Quinn shoots you a look so disbelieving someone would think you just plucked a live fish out of the tank and ate it like candy.

He snatches your card off the table and shoves it in his pocket.

"Quinn," it sounds like you're scolding a child.

"Y/n," he parrots.

"Seriously, let me get it this time."

He snorts like you've made a particularly funny joke. "Not a chance, sweetheart"

"Quinn, please."

"Y/n, I was the one who took you out legally that means I have to pay."

"Legally?" You scoff as he puts his card on the table.

"Mhm," you steal his move, snatching his card off the table and sticking it in your pocket.

"Y/n" he warns, hand inching towards you across the table.

"I was the one who asked you to get lunch with me, so I think that means, legally, I have to pay. Now put my card on the table Quinn"

"Don't play with me, Y/n" he says, voice low, eyes demanding. A shiver runs down your spine, and the yearning that floods you is overwhelming. Oh, how you wish he was looking at you like that in a different scenario. Without a table separating you. Maybe with less clothing, too.

Your cheeks turn red as you realize that for the second time today, your thoughts towards Quinn have taken an unholy route. Unintelligible grumbles fall from your lips as you put his card on the table, hoping he stops looking at you like that right now.

The smile that lights his face is worth losing the battle. He doesn't give you back your card until he's paid, and the two of you are walking out of the restaurant side by side. You make it back to the school just before lunch is over, with just enough time to hide Quinn under your desk to surprise the kids.

As the kids settle in before the last bell rings, your eyes flick to Quinn, crouched under your desk. He looks up at you from where he's sitting between your legs under your desk. Hands braced on your knees.

The sight of him kneeling under your desk, has you thinking downright sinful things. You look away quickly. He squeezes your knee, and you stand up, unable to deal with the burn of his palm through your pants any longer without combusting.

"Alright, kids," you clap, "before we bring out our science books, I have a surprise for y'all." the room immediately explodes in excitement.

"Is it donuts?" One kid screams, sending the other kids into a frenzy.

You laugh as they scream their theories at you, and let them get it out of their system.

"Alright!" You yell over their voices with a smile, "drumroll, please," you say, walking to the light switch animatedly as the kids tap their hands on their desks rapidly. The plan was you would flip off the light dramatically, pretend your surprise hadn't worked when you turned the lights back on, get everyone to take out their science books and then Quinn would jump out before you started teaching.

You flick off the lights, and the drumming gets louder. Then the lights turn on, and the noise ceases abruptly while the kids look around.

"Oh man!" You sigh dramatically, "it didn't work," you pout, walking to the front of the class.

There's a mixture of sighs and groans as everyone gets out their science books. Your back is to the class, as you write the beginning of today's science lesson on the board. You crook your fingers at your side, signalling for Quinn to show himself.

He jumps out from under your desk with a "boo!" And chaos unfolds. You grin as the kids scream, some of them launching out of their chairs to attack Quinn with hugs. "MR. HUGHES!!" They yell as they crowd around him, jumping up and down.

The first time he'd come to the classroom, they were mostly starstruck and too nervous to talk to him very much. Now, whenever you brought him in, they had the biggest smiles and were armed with non-stop stories to bombard him with.

Quinn looks at you, mouthing, "Can I do it?"

You nod, and he grins as brightly as the Kids. He claps his hands three times. "One two three, eyes on me!"

The kids respond in kind, with two claps, saying, "One, two, eyes on you."

"Alright, everyone, listen to Ms. Y/l/n," he grins, hands on his hips.

The kids all turn to you for instruction. "Ok, everyone, please take your seat. Mr. Hughes will be here for the rest of the day, so you all will have plenty of time to bug him."

The kids take their seats happily, unwilling to lose their Mr. Hughes privileges. At that moment, Olivia chooses to appear at your classroom door, a scowl on her lips. "Some of us are trying to teach, so if you keep it down, that would be-"

She stops mid-sentence as she notices Quinn. Her voice turned sickly sweet. "Oh! Quinn! I didn't know you were dropping by today. How have you been?"

Quinn gives her a polite smile. "I'm alright," he says curtly. You can't help but smirk as Olivia's jaw clenches.

"Did you leave your class alone?" You ask, brows raised. She huffs as if remembering she has a job to do and all but storms out of your room without finishing what she came to say in the first place.

The remainder of the day goes by smoothly; your class is on extra good behaviour, because Quinn is there. As predicted, Olivia has all of a sudden forgotten all of her teaching supplies and, over the course of the next hour, comes into your room to borrow a white board marker, a stapler, post-it notes, a pen and a couple of other things you know she has.

Olivia also definitely opened her big mouth because a few other teachers dropped by under the guise of needing to borrow something or other lame excuses. They say hi to Quinn, like they didn't know he was there, and linger a little too long.

When the bell rings for third recess, you cherish your time alone with Quinn before all the teachers who don't have hall patrol have somehow found themselves in your classroom.

"Do you ever wear my jerseys to school?" Quinn asks, offering you slices of the tangerine he just peeled as he sits on your desk while you lesson plan.

"Usually if I'm coming to a game after, or if your games are on Fridays," you say, absent-mindedly opening your mouth for him to feed you. He pops the orange slice in, not even questioning it.

"Why Fridays?" He asks, placing another orange slice in your mouth.

"Cause Friday is the last day of the week, so it deserves some celebration."

Quinn's smile is shy. He doesn't understand why you would associate him with celebration, but warmth floods his chest, and he basks in it.

As if Olivia can sense that you are enjoying your peaceful moment with Quinn, she walks in, hips swishing and voice dripping with false sweetness. "Y/nnn," she whines, drawing out the last syllable of your name, "Hi Quinny," she giggles.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Quinn looks uncomfortable. "Ok, firstly, his name is not Quinny, so don't call him that." You say, crossing your arms over your chest, but before you can get to your second point, she cuts you off.

"Fiesty!" She mocks, and your cheeks burn. At that moment, three more teachers enter, and you sigh, knowing they are all here to ogle and flirt with Quinn. Unfortunately for them, you do not have the patience to deal with this right now.

"Alright, everyone out. I'm busy."

Olivia is the first to protest, "But I need-"

"Get out." You grind, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and hurried out with the other teachers close behind. Quinn sighs a breath of relief as the door shuts behind them. Sometimes, you forget that he isn't a people person, and the way he is around you is reserved for you and you only.

"Sorry," you mumble out, tucking your lesson plan into your binder.

"S' not your fault," he smiles

"Wanna help me set up for the last activity for today?" you ask, holding out a stack of papers in a sort of peace offering.

"Sure," Quinn smiles, taking the stack of papers. He places one on each desk, inspecting it as he goes, "What's this for?"

"It's part one of our compassion project," you say, pulling the example paper out of your binder. It was a piece of paper titled 'Who I admire' The assignment was for each student to pick someone they admired, and write down a little bit about what they mean to you and why they inspire you. Part two of the project would be to make a little photo collage of their inspirational person.

"Can I see your example?" Quinn asks curiously, joining you back at your desk; you hand it over to him, the tips of your ears going red with embarrassment. Your paper reads:

'Who I admire'

One of the people I admire most is Quinn Hughes. He is my best friend and the person I love to spend time with the most. I admire Quinn because he is a hard worker and a natural leader who cares about everyone before himself. Quinn inspires me because he is a kind and caring person who always tries his hardest and can get back up no matter how hard he falls.

"You...admire me?"

"Of course, I do," You answer softly, "I don't think there's anyone I admire more."

Quinn's breath is caught in his throat. The sentences are worded for elementary schoolers, yet the weight they hold is unmatched to him. Sometimes, simplicity meant the most. Just as Quinn is about to say more, the bell rings, signaling the end of recess.

While you wait at the door to greet your class as they file in, you don't notice that Quinn is scribbling furiously on one of the many extra sheets you printed for the inevitable mistakes and overthinkers. After the class is settled and you explain the assignment, they get to work.

A low buzz of chatter fills the room as the kids work, asking each other who they will write about. Quinn took your chair while you were explaining the assignment, so you sat on your desk in front of him.

"Here's another example sheet," He says, handing you the sheet he was working on. You glance over it quickly, your smile growing softer as you read what he wrote.

One of the people I admire most is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend and one of my favourite people. I admire her because she is kind and funny and always believes in me. She inspires me because knows what she wants, and she isn't afraid to put in work to get what she wants.

The irony of the last sentence is not lost on you. Years of wanting Quinn, and you never put in the work to get him. You buried your feelings in hopes that they would go away. The fear of losing Quinn all too prominent to risk the friendship over some silly little feelings.

"I love it," you smile, pinning it on the board next to yours so the kids have another example to look at. You and Quinn sit together at your desk, chatting about mundane things here and there while kids come up to ask questions. On more than one occasion, you got asked if they could use Quinn as their person, to which your answer was no because he was your example. Quinn laughed about it every time.

"What do you want for dinner?" Quinn asks, absent-mindedly scrolling through recipes on his phone.

"I've got leftovers in my fridge. I'll eat those."

Quinn looks at you, face scrunched in displeasure. "Don't be silly, we are having dinner together. What do you want? And don't say surprise me."

Well damn. He took the words right out of your mouth. You tap your fingers in thought. "Steak," you grin.

"Steak?"

"Steak." You nod. If there's one thing Quinn can cook absolutely magnificently, it's steak.

"OK, what should we do on the side?" He hums, presumably checking his grocery list.

"Let's do that spinach fruit salad and roasted potatoes and asparagus?"

"Sounds peachy. I'll stop and get groceries when we leave. My place or yours?"

Soon, you will be able to say Our place you sigh. Being with him, but not with him is eating you from the inside out. Six years of friendship be damned. Living like this was killing you.

"Mine," you glance at the clock, ready to get this day over with and get home. You stand up, putting in your teacher's voice, "Alright, class, we have fifteen minutes till home time. Five to clean, five to get ready, and the last five to talk to Mr. Hughes!"

The kids cheer, and you dismiss them to clean. Within ten minutes, everyone is sitting in a circle on the carpet around you and Quinn, asking him questions.

"Mr. Hughes?" A little girl named Meredith raises her hand.

"yeah?"

"When are you gonna Marry Ms. Y/l/n?"

Your face turns red faster than you thought possible. Quinn looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes, a dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. Before Quinn can answer, you cut in, "Oh honey, we're just best friends." You say softly. It's physically painful for the words to come out of your mouth, but unfortunately, it's the truth.

Quinn looks at you, eyes swimming with emotions you can't discern. The bell finally rings, signalling the day is over. Usually, you would hang around for another hour, preparing for the next day, but with the promise of Quinn making dinner, you want to get home as soon as possible.

After making sure there are no more stragglers, you practically drag Quinn out of the building before anyone can stop him from flirting. "I'll meet you back at your place in a little." He says, walking you to your car.

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit." You watch as he walks to his car and gets in before pulling out of the parking lot and heading home.

Less than an hour later, Quinn is opening your apartment door with a few grocery bags in hand. He places them on the counter, hands you the latte he brought you, and changes into a more comfortable set of clothes before starting dinner.

"Take a break and come give me a hand?" Quinn suggests, from where you've been marking and planning since you got home.

"I'm almost done," you grumble, wanting to finish so you don't have to think about work for the rest of the night. Quinn glances at the clock, "You're getting huffy," he says fondly.

"I'll be done in ten," you sigh.

"Alright," Quinn hums, "I'm physically removing your work from in front of you in ten minutes."

You glare at him, knowing he will make good on his threat and get back to work, doing only the stuff that needs to be done for tomorrow. As promised, you put everything away in ten minutes, and wash your hands to help Quinn in the kitchen.

"Where do you want me, Chef?" You ask, drying your hands on the kitchen towel.

"Salad," he grins, nodding his head towards the salad stuff on the counter. Grabbing a knife and a cutting board, you stand beside him and prep the stuff. Your hips bump and your arms brush as you work in the comfort of each other's space, chatting about whatever comes to mind.

And when dinner is ready, and Quinn pours the wine, your heart aches. The steak tastes like ash on your tongue, and you feel the tears welling behind your eyes.

"Y/n? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

You sigh out a deep breath, and six years of friendship be damned because you just can't do this anymore. Your fork clangs against your plate, and you look at Quinn with a gut-wrenching sadness in your eyes.

"I can't do this anymore," you say softly, eyes downcast. You can't look at him. You can't. Your heart would break, and you know it.

"Do what? What's wrong? I don't understand." his voice is desperate, pleading, worried. Then he's abandoning his plate and kneeling by your chair, a comforting hand on your knee. "Please," he whispers, squeezing your knee, "let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."

The outline of his palm burns against your leg. You stand quickly, the chair sliding backwards. Your head swims, and you don't know what to do next. You want to tell him he can't help because it's his damn fault. You want to say you can't do this. You want to scream.

"What can't you do Y/n? Let me in. Let me help." He says, standing, stepping into your space. For all the times it felt comforting to have him in your space now it feels like misery.

"Quinn," you sigh, "I can't do this," you motion between you at the dinner. "I can't do it anymore. I just can't. It's killing me from the inside out."

Quinn is in utter disbelief. He looks so so hurt. You can't believe you caused him to look like that. A bitter laugh bubbles in your throat because fuck. His voice sounds foreign and far away. "I- what? Did I do something wrong?"

You sigh, running a hand down your face. "You know," you start knowing you'll regret it, that this will be the end of your friendship. Six wonderful, glorious, beautiful years. The memories would be there, but the bitterness of an ended friendship would taint them.

"I have loved you for six years." It comes out quiet. So utterly quiet, like raising your voice any louder, will shatter both of you into a million irreparable pieces. Quinn stares. The silence is worse than anything he could've said. It's all-consuming, crawling under your skin with whispers of it over. It's done. You've lost him.

Something snaps, and you can't take it anymore. You run to the front door, slip on a pair of shoes and run down the hall, down the stairs and out of the building. Away from Quinn and his suffocating silence.

---

Hello hello my loves. I hope yall are doing good on this Saturday night. So, as you can tell, this is a very long one. A whopping 7.2 k words! I definitely didn't mean for it to get this long. And you know what's funny?? I cut soooo much out. Originally, this fic was supposed to be completely different lmao. Not sure what happened but here we are! I'm probably gonna make this an Au, cause the amount of stuff I thought up while I was writing Quinn x Elementary school teacher, is unhinged. Anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Love Soph.

Find Pt.2 Here

#qh43 #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hughes brothers #domesticity #angst #fluff #vancover canucks #captain quinn #loving you is as easy as abc 123

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mxqdii · 1 year ago

Text

nott into you - m.s

pairings: nott reader x mattheo riddle

summary: reader's brother is theodore nott and develops feelings for his best friend mattheo

warning(s): drinking, brief makeout drugs.

not proofread

FRIDAY:

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

it's funny how a week can change everything.

okay! i know this looks really wrong, but i can explain.. let's go back to where this all started, monday.

-1 WEEK PRIOR.-

MONDAY:

i sit in potions, bored as ever at snapes lesson, feeling eyes on me.

i look over seeing mattheo riddle staring, which isn't totally weird, considering we've been friend's since first year, just abnormal.

this time it's different though, like some weird tension in the air, i feel as if red smoke is filling my lungs and calling out mattheo's name.

snapping out of it, i clear my throat and focus my attention onto the horribly boring, lesson

the class ends sooner than later and i take my time to collect my stuff, not noticing mattheo waiting for me.

i head to the door and meet eyes with him

"waiting for me, riddle?" i question and his lips curl upwards

"i might be, walk with me will you?" he asks and i nod, following wherever he's going.

"i noticed you staring" i mumble

"yeah and i noticed you drooling" he says and i scoff

"you think too highly of yourself riddle" i professed

"mmh i'm not so sure about that, have you met your brother?" he adds on and i realize

my brother, shit.

this flirty banter shouldn't even be happening right now, considering if theo saw he would absolutely loose his shit.

"yeah thats theo, uh- anyways i gotta go, nice talking to you riddle!-" i say in a rush, walking the other direction.

TUESDAY:

i hear the door open and look up seeing pansy, i'm currently in the slytherin common room working on some extra homework.

"hey" she says, plopping down next to me

"hey pans whats up?" i ask, putting my books down.

"okay so, i know this is a long shot.. buuuttt, there's a party tomorrow and before you say no just please please think about going!" she says the last part really fast and i laugh

"who's throwing it?" i question and she squints her eyes

"we are..?" she mumbles and my eyes widen

"pansy what!?!" i yell

"okay i know it seems bad, but some first years accidentally heard me saying how slytherin parties are the best and one thing led to another and all of a sudden i had to prove it was true and now everyones expecting a party tomorrow night and i need your help!" she rambles and i sigh

"fine."

later that day, i cross paths with mattheo again.

who cares what my brother thinks or wants for me, it's my life.

"hey mattheo, sorry about yesterday" i say with a smile and he nods

"don't worry about it sweetheart" the name makes my cheeks flush.

we kinda just stand there looking into eachothers eyes for a moment, i'm not sure how it was, but i definitely looked full of lust.

he moves closer to my ear, whispering

"you're drooling again"

i roll my eyes throwing in a, "you wish"

WEDNESDAY:

the party is all set up, and it took HOURS.

me and pansy had to rush right when classes ended to get everything ready

we're supposed to start the party in an hour but before doing that, me and my friendgroup decided to have a little fun

me, pansy, theo, mattheo, draco, enzo and blaise decided to play a friendly game of truth or dare before letting anyone else in.

"y/n" enzo says and i let out a shakey breath, not noticable enough for anybody to hear though.

"yes enzo?" i respond, eyeing him in anticipation

"what'a a dirty secret you've been hiding lately?" he asks and i smirk

maybe i could fuck with these people in a way that wouldn't expose me, but in a way... would?

"well enzo, so glad you asked. recently there has been someone catching my eye... someone who's off limits, someone i'm not allowed to touch, you could call it forbidden, but i prefer the term secrecy." i say with a smug smile, avoiding any and all eye contact with mattheo

before anyone has time to say anything, the clock chimes and the doors to the common room open, the room flooding with people from all different houses.

the rest of the night was kinda a blur, except for the end of it.

i'm too drunk to even function right now, feeling vulnerable and anxious.

god this is why i don't go to parties.

"hey beautiful" a random gryffindor says and i make a face of disgust

"jus' leave me alone" i say in hopes of peace, turning around to walk away, but instead he grabs my wrist.

i turn back to look at him seeing the no-good look on his face

"oh no" i mumble

"are you gonna like.. do bad thing's to me" i ask

i'm never drinking again i feel like an idiot.

"you just consented to it so i might as well huh baby?" he says and i groan.

"i actually have a-" without thinking i grab someones hand, anyone to get me out of this situation would be great

"mattheo?" i say looking up, seeing its him who i grabbed

well, i was going to say boyfriend but mattheo works too.

the gryffindor boy's expression quickly changes from being in control to being scared shitless.

i'm too hazy to even feel right, not paying attention to the bickering mattheo is doing, the way he's absolutely screaming at this boy.

my hand tugs mattheos arm, causing him to look down at me

"mattheo please- just get me out of here" i say, leaning onto his arm.

fuck i'm not supposed to feel like this

THURSDAY:

the last thing i remember, is mattheo dragging me out of that party.

i think he was carrying me? or was it theo? i don't really remember.

i turn over, opening my eyes seeing mattheo next to me

what the fuck.

"g'morning princess" he says and i wince, feeling the light hit my face.

"what time is it?" i ask and see him look over to his bedside table

"like 10" he says and my eyes widen as much as they can.

"it's thursday mattheo we have class!' i yell, attempting to get up

his arm lightly pushes me down

"you need to rest, do you remember what happened last night?" he asks and i shake my head

"you were drugged and you passed out." he mumbles and my eyes widen

"who the fuck drugged me??" i exclaim

"i don't know" he says and i sigh, thinking about last night trying to remember anything i can.

i don't even realize how close me and mattheo are, the way he's shirtless and the way the sun hits his eyes, his morning voice, his soft sheets.

i look down seeing me in his shirt and i quirk an eyebrow which he notices

"no don't worry uh- pansy changed you not me" he reassures and i smile.

the rest of the day we end up just talking and laughing in his dorm, only leaving for food and water.

i gotta admit, it is awfully suspicious me leaving with him last night and waking up in his dorm, now us ditching and spending the whole day together.

but like i said before, i don't care what my brother thinks.

FRIDAY:

i'm currently getting lectured by snape for missing class and i can't help but let my mind wander to mattheo

lately, thats been all my mind is full of.

the tension has been getting thicker and my desire for him has been getting needier.

i need to tell him.

i rush out of snapes lecture as soon as he's finished, rushing to the common room.

what am i even doing, i'm being way too impulsive right now, it's fine i only live once, i have to do this. i tell myself

i reach the common room and run upstairs, knocking on mattheos dorm frantically

he opens the door and i smile, suddenly feeling all of my words leave my mind, going completely blank

then i remembered, i dont need words to tell him what i need.

without thinking, i grab his cheek and kiss him, it definitely caught him by surprise, but it did for me too.

without breaking the kiss, he leads me inside and closes the door, pinning me against it.

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

an abrupt knock interrupts us, mattheos hand covering my mouth

"dude come on, snape is pissed you missed class and his lecture, we gotta go" a voice comes from the other side of the door.

fuck, it's my brother.

a/n: let me know if u guys want a part 2<3

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faefictions · 2 years ago

Text

Go to Bed Angry

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Request: Eddie teasing and flustering his girl best friend who has a not so hidden crush on him and he has a not so hidden crush on her but they're both blind to it With a happy fluffy ending please 🥺

(Gif by @thorinsbeard)

It had been a Tuesday afternoon. You only remember that detail because any other day of the week, Eddie wouldn’t have been free to give you a ride home after school. It wasn’t anything new, you were in the passenger seat of his van, the music blasting through the speakers at a deafening volume. He had just made a joke that to this day you can’t remember, but that wasn’t what did it. You turned to the window, rolling your eyes in annoyance at his teasing, everything was business as usual. That was until you glanced at his reflection, staring at the back of your head. It was a simple, innocent look, but something about it lit a fire in you that you couldn’t stamp out.

That was the moment you realized you were in love with your best friend.

You spent every day after that either in active denial, or trying your best to suppress the emotions you knew were brewing. It shouldn’t have been that hard. Eddie was just as much of a little shit as ever. His constant comments about how bad your breath smelled, or how terrible your music taste was, or slight digs at your personality in general should have been enough to completely kill the crush that you had. But the small moments where he would check to make sure you were ok in stressful situations, or when he would insist on buying you flowers when he knew you were having a particularly bad day. This moments would bring you right back to that day in his van, and the butterflies would come creeping back up on you.

It only got worse after graduation. On graduation day, Eddie had picked you up and spun you around out of excitement. Neither of you had really thought that he would be graduating with you that year, but after all the late nights you forced him to study, he had finally crawled his way past the finish line. For a second, after he had set you down, you thought that he was going to lean in and kiss you. He just stood there for a moment, staring into your eyes without saying a word, but the Hellfire boys ruined the moment when they practically tackled him from behind. You avoided him for the rest of the night after that.

Once you both got full time jobs, it got harder to spend time with each other. You began to worry that the two of you would drift apart, but Eddie would have never left that happen. The second he realized that you were worried about it, he chose to come over to your trailer every day after work.

It didn’t matter if he worked a 10 hour shift, or if he got off a 3 am, you could always expect him to let himself in and plop himself down on your couch with a loud sigh. It became a new normal to wait for Eddie to “come home”, but you hated that you thought of it that way. It was staring to feel a little too domestic. But that didn’t stop you from making him something to eat after every shift, or listening to his incredibly boring work stories for hours, or walking him 100 feet back to his trailer so he could get some much needed sleep.

On one night in September, you came home from your shift at 4 pm, as always. Your hair was slipping out of it’s pony tail, and your makeup was smudged. It had been a particularly long day. The amount of customers who had left with nothing but complaints had been higher than normal, and it had worn you out by lunch. You counted down every minute of the tail end of your shift, but not even clocking out was enough to get rid of the storm cloud over your head.

You had no idea how long you had until Eddie would inevitably let himself into your trailer, but you figured you had at least a few hours to shower and get yourself in a better mood before you had to socialize again. However, you were proven wrong when you opened your trailer door and found Eddie’s work boots kicked off to the side, and heard him rustling around in the kitchen.

“Is it too early for dinner? I mean, you always make it when I get off, but that can be like six o clock or midnight so I don’t really know what a normal dinner time is to you.”

“What are you doing here?”

He turned around to face you, now standing behind him in the small kitchen area, his shirt covered in a mysterious food stain that you couldn’t find the origin of since it appeared he was only making macaroni.

“You feeling ok?” he asked as he feigned concern and placed his wrist on your forehead to feel for an imaginary temperature. “How could you forget about your favorite person in the whole world? I’m Eddie, remember? I practically live here,” He giggled to himself before you slapped his hand away from your head.

“You’ve just never gotten off this early. I figured I had time to at least take a shower before you got here,”

“Bad day?”

You sighed and turned to finally take your jacket and shoes off. Your sigh was answer enough for him.

“You can still go take a shower. It’s not like I don’t know my way around.”

“It’s fine, you made food, let’s just eat.”

“No,” he chided as he blocked your access to the cupboard you were reaching for, “Go get out of your work clothes and get in the shower, before I help you out of them.”

“Eddie!” you yelped and slapped him on the arm, praying that the blush you felt on your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

“I’m serious. Shower. Now,” he laughed and began to shoo and chase you down the hall into the bathroom.

“I don’t have any clothes to change into,” you pouted before he could close the bathroom door in your face.

“Get the water warm, I’ll go get your pajamas.”

You said a quick thank you as he disappeared, and you did just as he said. You turned the water up as hot as it would go, knowing that you needed to melt the day away. Eddie quickly returned with a change of clothes before running back to the kitchen in hopes that he hadn’t found a way to somehow burn a box of Kraft.

After your shower, you emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, but hair still dripping wet. You hadn’t had the energy to dry it, and the grumbling coming from your stomach was getting to be too much. Luckily, by the time you made it to the living room, Eddie was waiting on the couch with a still warm bowl of macaroni waiting for you.

“There she is,” Eddie smiled, mouth half full of noodles. He pushed the blanket that had been resting next to him onto the ground and patted the cushion excitedly.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you sighed and bent over to pick the blanket back up. You could feel Eddies eyes focusing on you as you folded it and rested it over the back of the couch.

“What’s with you today, sweetheart? Something happen at work?,” he asked, much more gentle now, as he handed you your dinner.

“Just a long day Eds,” you fought off another sigh.

“Seriously,” he stopped you from taking your first bite, “Is there someone I need to beat the shit out of? You know I’d do that for you, right?”

“Can I just eat this lovely meal you’ve prepared for the two of us?” You faked a smile and hoped your blush wasn’t too dark.

Lately, anything Eddie said made you feel a certain way. It was like he was going out of his way to get a reaction out of you, almost like he was doing it on purpose.

“Fine,” he smirked, “I’ll get my answers out of you later, Doll.”

You tried not to choke in response to that name. That was a new one, and your brain reacted a little too fondly to it. You quickly reached for the remote and turned to the first station that seemed entertaining enough to shut Eddie up.

You reveled in the silence for the short while it lasted. You loved spending time with Eddie, always had, but it had grown harder to be around him with him acting like this. The last thing you wanted was for him to figure out how you felt about him and ruin the friendship. As time went on, it was growing harder and harder to control your own reactions to him though.

Just as your heart finally began to beat normally again, right after you had finished your dinner and set the bowl on the coffee table in front of you, you hit your limit. Eddie reached out and guided your chin towards him. He made eye contact for a moment, with an expression that felt too serious for the situation, and for a second you thought he might kiss you. Instead, he brought his thumb to the corner of your mouth and swiped away what you could only assume was a glob of artificial cheese.

“Got it,” he smiled.

“I’m feeling pretty tired, I think maybe you should head home,” you nearly snapped at him. It came out more polite than you expected, but much less than you meant for it to sound.

“But it’s only like 5:30,” he pouted. It was obvious that something was off. He usually wouldn’t get off work until much later than this, and would still end up staying longer than he had today.

“Like I said, long day. You should get going.”

“Come on, y/n, did I do something?” he tried to reason with you as you began to usher him off of the couch and towards the exit.

“Eddie, I just wanna be alone right now, ok? Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“No,” he dug his heels in just as you had nearly gotten him to the door, and turned to face you, “Something’s up and I’m not leaving until we resolve it. You know what they say, never go to bed angry.”

“Eddie, that’s for married couples.”

“And we’re practically that.”

“Excuse me? No, Eddie, we aren’t practically anything!”

“Woah, ok, I was just joking around sweetheart.”

Had you been thinking straight, you would have noticed that Eddie almost seemed offended at your reaction to his joke. But you were far from level headed, and all you knew was that he had no right to tease you like that if he didn’t mean a word of it.

You groaned and rushed around him, opening the door to make the invitation to leave feel more like a demand. But if there was one thing you knew about Eddie Munson, it was that he was the most stubborn piece of shit, beating out even you.

“You know for a fact that I’m going nowhere until you tell me what I did. I know this isn’t just a shitty day. It may have started out that way, but you’d never kick me out over just that.”

“Well maybe today was just extra shitty, Eddie. And maybe the cure to a shitty day is to not have you around to make me even more miserable.”

You hadn’t meant it, it had just slipped out, and the second you saw Eddie’s face drop, you had regretted it. But it was too late to take it back, and you still desperately wanted him out, so you just stood in silence, trying not to let any hot tears free from your eyes. You cursed yourself for your tendency to cry at any situation that made you raise your voice.

“Y/n, seriously, what did I do?” he asked, voice laced with deep concern, and took a nervous step towards you.

“Nothing, I just want you to leave, please.”

Your tears had begun to fall, and Eddie would have been able to sense your overwhelm from a mile away. He was unsure what to do though, since in any other situation, he would offer his presence to console you. He tried to comb through the night in his brain, trying to pick out anything he had done to upset you. Once he remembered the last thing he had done before you asked him to leave, he had an inkling of what may be happening.

He gently reached out and grabbed your hand to pull you even closer to him, and he proved himself correct when he saw the way you nearly winced at his touch. He knew you well, he had once declared himself an expert on everything y/n. But, he had missed the most important thing there was to know about you.

You loved him in the exact same way he had loved you from the start.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

“What?” you exclaimed, the surprise putting a pause to your tears.

“That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Eddie,” you warned, and pulled away from him, gently this time. There was no more malice towards him, just defeat. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you wouldn’t want,” you finished as you turned to walk back to the couch. Before you could get far, he grabbed your arm once again and spun you around to look at him.

“Then let me kiss you because I want to,” as he spoke, his demeanor changed from confidence to match your insecurity, “Please.”

You both stood, staring at each other as you tried to take in what he had said. The butterflies in your stomach were trying to convince you that he meant it, that he really had wanted to kiss you, but your brain was trying to let you down gently. He had had a million chances to kiss you, to make a move, to do anything. But he had always chosen to tease, to make you think that what had blossomed between you was nothing but one sided. You were ready to turn him down, to try to preserve your friendship and your heart, until his hand reached out and cupped your cheek.

He slowly took a step towards you, never breaking his line of sight on your eyes. He moved as if you would turn and run at any sudden movement, and his heavy breathing gave his nerves even more away.

He wouldn’t be nervous if he were lying. That was the final thought you had before you launched yourself into his lips. There was no way he was going to get the glory of kissing you first. Not after all the teasing he had put you through.

Tags:

@eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @embrace-themagic @fanficparker @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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astrophileous · 1 year ago

Note

I feel like Derek would be SO aware of Bug when she gets further along in the pregnancy. Anytime she winces due to a harsh kick or Braxton hick, he’s right there beside her. He makes a huge deal of it too, especially if he can’t be by her side immediately 😭 even asks Penelope to send him updates when he’s away

This takes place during the first pregnancy, when Bug is pregnant with Little Bug 🥰 I kinda took inspiration from that scene when JJ went into labor the first time around, I hope you like it <3

Side note, I literally interrogated my mom abt her pregnancy/labor experience for this one cause I don't have any 😭 but then she proceeded to ask if I HAD SOMETHING I WANTED TO TELL HER AKJSJSJDJ LIKE MOM NO I'M NOT PREGNANT I'm just writing a story plsss

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

With your due date just around the corner, it felt like Derek was also constantly in your corner.

The week marked your first one on maternity leave. You had many objections over having to take a longer leave--how were you ever going to survive four long weeks at home doing nothing?--but after constant pestering from both your doctor and Derek, you relented.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Derek was next to you in a flash, as per usual, after he had heard your wince. You were sure that the man was just in another room mere moments prior, yet the second he caught the tiniest sign of distress coming from you, he proceeded to transport himself towards your side.

"Nothing." You chuckled, trying to ease his mind. "Your son is just eager to practice his kicking skills today."

The frown on his forehead deepened. "Does it hurt?"

"It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?" Derek's hand sneaked on top of your belly, as if trying to tell your son to calm down before he could send another painful kick against your abdomen. "Are you sure it's even a kick? Maybe we should go to the--"

"Derek, I'm fine. Promise." You patted his hand that was still on top of yours, entangling them together. "Have you heard from Hotch about where you guys are going tomorrow?"

"Louisville, Kentucky." Derek seemed to ponder something in silence before he continued, "Should I ask Hotch to sit this one out?"

"What? Why would you do that?"

"I don't like being so far away from you." His hand squeezed around yours as he said it, as if trying to emphasize his point. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing is gonna happen, honey. I'm probably just gonna be sleeping half the time you're gone. You'll be bored as hell and wish that you were in Kentucky instead."

"I don't know. I kinda like watching you sleep."

"Good one, Mister. But still no," you said. "Everything's gonna be just fine. Trust me."

Derek wasn't entirely happy about it, but you managed to push him out of the door bright and early the next morning. In his absence, you had the whole house to yourself, and you used that opportunity to do anything to keep yourself out of boredom. Nothing too strenuous, just as your doctor instructed. Not that you could do anything extreme with the weight of your 36-week bump.

You were in the middle of preparing dinner when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Confused, you turned off the stove before heading towards the front door, wondering all the way who could be visiting you on a random Tuesday night.

Your curiosity was answered the moment you opened the door, only to be met with a familiar pair of eyes behind red rimmed glasses and a head of blonde hair in perfect ringlets.

"Pen? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flitted down, noticing the polka dot duffle bag on the ground. "Why do you have a bag?"

"Surprise, Beets! We're having a sleepover!"

You were still in shock when Penelope rushed past you and entered the house. "What do you mean, sleepover?"

"Have you never had a sleepover before, Beets? It means I'm gonna stay here, of course!"

"What? I don't--" realization dawned upon you then, "--did Derek put you up to this?"

"No."

"Pen."

"Okay, fine! Maybe he did. But--" Penelope raised her finger when she saw you about to cut her off, "--I was more than happy and willing to do it anyway. I also don't like the thought of you being alone in this house all by yourself."

"Pen, I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. But just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm not the same person I was before. I can still deliver a mean punch if I have to," you reminded her. "You don't have to do this."

"Beets," Penelope gripped your shoulders, "I know I don't have to, but I want to, okay? Unless you're not looking forward to a marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night. Shall I make myself scarce?"

You mulled over Penelope's offer for a minute. A marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night did sound tempting.

"Fine." When Penelope began to squeal, you quickly added, "But no smothering!"

Penelope ended up staying for nearly the entire week, during which time Derek was constantly terrorizing her with text and voice messages; either demanding an update on you and the baby or asking Penelope to monitor your condition throughout the day.

"He's being ridiculous," you had commented one night when another one of his text messages came in the middle of My Best Friend's Wedding.

"He's worried about you."

"He's too worried." You grabbed another handful of popcorns. "You have my permission to block him anytime you feel like he's being too much."

"Won't that just give him a reason to hop on a plane and go home early?"

Your munching stopped. "Damn, you're right. Fine, just... tell him off anytime he starts being too crazy."

On Saturday, you finally received word that the team was flying back home to Virginia.

"They'll arrive in a couple of hours," Penelope called out from her position in the kitchen. "I've packed my bag and will get out of your hair as soon as Derek gets here. You guys can--what are you doing?"

Penelope knitted her eyebrows together once she walked back into the living area, seeing you somewhat writhing on the couch.

"I don't know. I just can't seem to get comfortable," you said. "And there's this... squeezing pain, I think? I don't know. I think he's pressing on my bladder or kidney or something."

"Beets." Penelope's face had gone a little paler, but there was the ghost of a smile adorning her fuchsia-painted lips. "I think you just described a contraction."

Your heart stuttered. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Beets." Penelope was beside you in a second, just in time for another contraction to hit. "You're going into labor."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #dad derek morgan #shemar moore #love bugs

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niningtori · 9 months ago

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to know him is to love him, and i do | chapter two: he can't keep living like this

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you

summary: you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?)

word count: 2.3k

notes: hello again :) here is chapter two! i'm actually really nervous to post this, so i hope you all like it! check the ending for more notes <3 also, shout out to user woncheecks for being my test audience! anyway, enjoy!

the first time beomgyu realizes just how impactful your absence is, nothing in particular happens. it's a regular tuesday night a week or so after your "breakup" and he's bored out of his mind. he showers, listens to music, texts his friends and makes himself dinner, but something is missing.

as he sits on his couch, he realizes what it is: you. right about now, you should be pestering him to hang out and showing up on his doorstep to watch a movie. he'd roll his eyes at first but eventually relent, as long as he got to pick the movie, of course. he wouldn't say it, but he'd actually enjoy glancing over and seeing your reactions. you were comically expressive and every twist and turn of the plot had your eyes bulging and mouth agape, turning to him for confirmation that he was seeing the same things you were. when you watched inception for the first time it absolutely rocked your world.

he's alone, but he puts on a movie, anyway. every so often, his head turns to the side with the corner of his mouth raised, but you're not there to give a reaction. he should be used to your absence by the third twist, but he still finds himself subconsciously turning to you throughout the rest of the movie. when the credits roll, he's half expecting to hear you chatter on about how crazy it was, but it's silent. the only time that would happen would be when you'd accidentally drift off in spite of how engrossed you were. you'd try to fight it off like a stubborn kid, but would succumb by the final act. he smiles at the memory before shaking his head in disbelief. what's wrong with him?

moments like these plague him more and more frequently, but the most notable one is the night before his first day at a new job. he briefly talks to his friends about his excitement, but he's too embarrassed to divulge just how anxious he is. times like this, he'd come over and complain for however long he needed. you'd sit and nod, asking questions during his pauses to encourage him to continue, always adding appropriate and thoughtful commentary.

his thoughts wander to how you're doing alone. you really love him, it seems, so he can only imagine how you're faring without him. he wishes you hadn't blocked his number so he could at least ask how you are. maybe you'd even tell him you miss him. not for the first time, he begins to wonder if he pushed you too far this time around. you've gotten angry and given him the silent treatment before, sure, but you've never blocked him and you've certainly never done it for so long.

he looks you up on instagram for the first time since your breakup. he's not terribly surprised when he sees he's blocked on there too, but all it takes is a switch to his photography account, which you had forgotten to block, to see what you're up to now.

the first thing he notices is a picture of you sitting outside with an ice cream cone in hand, face flushed and sun encircling you like an angel. your smile is beaming and your eyes are crinkled and he can almost hear your giggle through the screen. the caption reads "ice cream date with my best friend! <3"

he scrambles through his memories to try to remember a time in recent history when you two did something similar, but he comes up blank. what he does recall, though, is you mentioning a new frozen yogurt place you wanted to visit with him for your birthday. he nodded in response but he knew he wouldn't go with you, opting instead to get shitfaced with his friends. in retrospect, maybe you knew it too. he had checked his phone the next morning and saw he had at least half a dozen missed calls and well over a dozen texts from you. when he finally texted you back, you took almost a full 5 hours to respond, which was uncommon. usually, you'd text back within minutes. it occurred to him later on that that was your version of the silent treatment and it amused him that you could only hold out for a few hours. he honestly found it kind of cute.

he remembers what you did for his birthday. how you had secretly invited his friends over to his apartment to surprise him after an especially shitty day at work. he came home to an elaborately decorated apartment and all of his favorite people greeting him. he remembers how happy you looked when he opened up your present to him, which was the guitar he had always secretly wanted but could never quite justify buying for himself. you were so excited, any spectator would think he had gotten you the gift of your dreams and not the other way around. you were practically buzzing with excitement when he pulled you in for a kiss. his friends had whooped at the display of affection and you had felt your cheeks heat up. what did he get you for your birthday again? anything?

he spends days pondering over this and similar circumstances, which eventually turn into weeks upon weeks. what starts as a nagging feeling that he may have gone too far in his neglect for you becomes pure, unadulterated guilt and anxiety. he recalls just how torn up you seemed the last time he saw you. to be honest, at the time, he was mostly just irritated. but he never thought you'd actually leave. all he can see is that awful look on your face when you finally ended everything and all he can remember is the fact that he put it there. he knows in his heart that he has no right to feel this way, but he feels it all the same.

you would have never imagined you'd actually like somebody other than beomgyu, but taehyun makes it as easy as possible given the sticky circumstances. you met at a club your best friend dragged you to, both you and taehyun had to remain sober (hello designated drivers) and ended up having a surprisingly engaging conversation amidst the smell of beer, sweat, and sex. after that, the rest is history.

he can tell you've been hurt before, but he gently coaxes you into opening up as you spend more and more time with him. you're afraid of being overbearing and coming across as a lovesick puppy again, but taehyun is gentle and seems to enjoy your attention and affection, even if he's a surface level tsundere. more than that, he actually reciprocates it.

do you still think about beomgyu? of course. do you miss him? well, you'd never admit it to a single soul, but the way you see him in everything has to be an indicator that you do. it's getting better, though. more bearable.

a month or so into your relationship, you post about taehyun for the first time. you don't know why you're so nervous about announcing to the world that you have a boyfriend again, but happiness overwhelms your fear when you're met with nothing but positivity.

beomgyu is shellshocked, to put it mildly. the picture of you and your so-called boyfriend is sickly sweet. it's not over the top or anything—just a candid of you in a café holding hands with him while looking over the same menu. the caption is nothing other than a heart and squirrel emoji (why?) and both he and your best friend are tagged. his finger jumps to the boy's profile and he sees the same photo. he scoffs at the cheesiness of it all, but his heart aches at the way all of your friends have commented on the post expressing their happiness for you. they had never approved of him for reasons he's only now beginning to understand.

you always defended him in front of your friends no matter what he did or didn't do. you'd "comfort" him after your friends said something snarky and explain that they just didn't understand him. you'd say that if they knew the real him, they'd see him differently. at the time, he'd scoff and say something along the lines of "i don't need for them to see me differently because i couldn't give less of a fuck about what they think." you'd be hurt, of course you would be, but you'd never say so.

more and more, like an outsider looking in, he can see just how awful he was to you. it's to his horror that he realizes this must be the case for you, too. the chances of you getting back together with him seem slimmer and slimmer, especially now that you've got that pretty boy on your arm. your words echo in his mind as if to haunt him: "what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" leave, apparently, and don't look back.

he can't keep living like this.

a knock on your door is all it takes to ruin your night — you had actually had a really good day up until now. you and taehyun had gone on a breakfast date and napped together until he had to leave in the afternoon, so you're humming now in contentment while applying your nightly skincare, thinking relentlessly about the boy you think you might be starting to love. it feels different from the love you felt for beomgyu, but in a good way. you still think about him and wonder how he's doing, but you always derail that train of thought with a god-given force previously unknown to you. he doesn't care about you, you chant to yourself. it's almost like your daily mantra. in the midst of your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door. you smile widely when you surmise that it's probably taehyun again. you don't realize just how big your grin is until it drops.

standing before you is not your lovely boyfriend, but the man who made you question whether or not you were even lovable in the first place. he has a small smile on his face, and if you were to look a little more carefully, you'd notice that he actually seems a little nervous.

"hi," he says, breaking the silence. his heart was racing a mile a minute. potential scenarios battered his mind the entire way here. what would you do when you saw him? smile? he could handle that. cry? he could also handle that, even if he didn't want to see your tears. what he is not prepared for is the blankness of your features when you ask: "what are you doing here?"

his smile falters almost imperceptibly.

"i, uh. i just wanted to see you." you're merciful enough to give him a nod of encouragement to continue. "a-and i wanted to tell you that i haven't stopped thinking about you for the past few months. and that i think i'm finally ready to be with you," he finishes with a shaky breath.

you're quiet for a moment and squint your eyes as if you're deep in thought.

"but i thought you were dating someone now? your ex?"

"i'm not!" he says almost a little too quickly.

"i heard you were," you counter, not quite believing him. you heard he had been seeing his ex from one of your friends who happened to live in her apartment complex. she had seen his car in the parking lot a few times in the last couple of weeks and had no reason to lie to you.

"w-well, i've seen her a few times, but not seriously. i — to be honest, i was just trying to get over you. but i've finally realized that i can't becau—"

"so, just to make sure i understand, you're not over me so you're seeing her?" his eyes widen in shock before his head hangs in shame as he realizes exactly what he's done and how he must look to you right about now, but you're not finished. "isn't that what you were doing with me?" your voice is low and indifferent, but each word feels tailor-made to slash at his heart. "wow, i guess some things really never change, but don't worry, i'm sure once she moves on you'll finally see the good in her instead of me," you spit out.

"can you listen to me? please?" beomgyu is so ashamed he wants to die. he fumbles for the right words, but when he accidentally makes eye contact with you, they die on his lips. he wishes you would give him time to process what you were saying and mull over what to respond with because you always knew he was bad with words, but he supposes he lost the right to your patience a long time ago.

"you want me to listen to you so you can fuck with my head until the next person rolls around?" the latter words are strangled by the tightness in your throat and he can't help but wince. when he thinks it's over, you continue.

"nobody has ever made me feel as small as you have. i hated myself because of you," your lip trembles and before he can say a word, you're raising your hand to shut the door.

"wait, wait, wait! just let me say this," he pleads as he gently grasps the doorframe. "i... i love you." he almost thinks he hears you gasp, but he's too busy looking into your unreadable eyes to know for sure. he had never said anything like this to you before. you're completely silent for a few moments before breaking the tense atmosphere.

"j-jesus, i mean, i guess i just don't know what to say," you sputter and his eyes alight with what looks suspiciously like hope. "except maybe that... i'm sorry you feel that way?" you finish with a sardonic smile and a roll of your eyes. before he can respond, which he actually intends to do this time around, you slam the door in his face.

notes pt. 2: yeah... sorry ;-; i know this was a lot of background, but i felt it was necessary. also, if you didn't get the memo, there will be a part 3. stay tuned <3

#niningtori #to know him is to love him and i do #txt angst #beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #txt fic #tomorrow x together #toxic!beomgyu #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #beomgyu headcanons #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios

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lowaltitude · 3 months ago

Text

Dial Tone | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 99% texts. established relationships? the most basic plot idea everrrr bc I watched The Idea Of You before watching a playoffs match. PART 1. 3.5k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I had just gotten home and sprawled out on my apartment's couch, letting Netflix autoplay something random after finishing Brooklyn Nine-Nine again. My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024Today, 3:16 PM UNKNOWN: Alley said she tried to call you, text me when you're on the way to the rink.

My phone buzzed again.

Today, 3:42 PM UNKNOWN: Steph?

Today, 4:01 PM UNKNOWN: Are you on your way or not?

I glanced at my phone, seeing another message from the unknown number. Smirking slightly, typing a quick response.

ME: Not Steph, good luck finding your girlfriend.

I tossed my phone aside and settled deeper into the couch, trying to distract myself from the uninspired short story I had been working on. Hours passed, and I still hadn’t made any progress. The story was just another tall tale that could easily end with "and then I woke up," and at this rate, it might.

My phone buzzed again, and I groaned before reaching for it.

Today, 12:19 AM UNKNOWN: Gross. I was looking for my sister.

I sighed, feeling slightly amused.

ME: Okay? Hope you found her. UNKNOWN: I'm sorry to have bothered you, I realise the area code is wrong.

With nothing better to do, I found myself replying, curiosity piqued.

ME: 212, Manhattan. Nice area, rich boy charm. UNKNOWN: Not really rich, or much charm. But boy, yes. 619, where's that? ME: San Diego.

A pause. I put my phone down, trying to focus back on my assignment, but the ping of a new message distracted me.

UNKNOWN: I'm guessing you're just as bored as I am right now. ME: Definitely bored, that is correct. UNKNOWN: So San Diego, what’s keeping you awake that’s so boring? ME: Nothing much, Manhattan. Just assignments. But it’s only 12:30 here, isn’t it 3 AM in NY? UNKNOWN: That would be correct. ME: Then what’s keeping YOU awake? UNKNOWN: Won my hockey game, went to celebrate, and now I’m just sitting here.

I chuckled, intrigued by the late-night conversation.

ME: Hockey? Do you play for a college team or just for fun?

There was a long pause, a stark contrast to the quick replies earlier.

MANHATTAN: Yeah, I do college hockey. ME: Nice, what position? I don’t know LOTS about hockey or anything, but I'm friends with some guys on the SDSU team. MANHATTAN: Haha, right wing. But really, I just rough people up 💪 ME: Oh cool! (no clue what a right wing does) MANHATTAN: Then what position does your boyfriend play?

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the conversation shift.

ME: I never said that word. MANHATTAN: And I'm just checking. You are a girl, right? I’m not about to hit on a 50-year-old man.

I laughed, surprised by his forwardness.

ME: You’re about to hit on me? Are you meant to tell me that? MANHATTAN: Probably not, but I had a few drinks a bit ago so I can blame it on the alcohol if it goes wrong. ME: Yes, I am a girl. MANHATTAN: Wonderful, now that I know you're not trying to lure me into your mother's basement so you can use my skin as your new rug, can I get your name?

I smirked, enjoying the playful tone.

ME: Whoa, never said anything about NOT making a new rug. I kind of like the whole Manhattan & San Diego anonymous thing we have happening. MANHATTAN: Hmm, I guess so. A secret identity might not be the best move though. ME: Are you sure you want to risk it? Might say something regrettable since it’s 4 AM for you now. MANHATTAN: But it's only 1 AM for you, so it’s a risk I’ll take ;)

I smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.

ME: Exactly how many strangers do you text like this? MANHATTAN: If I say only 1 will that make you feel special? ME: So you just go around contacting random numbers in hopes they’re girls your age so you can try to knock their socks off? MANHATTAN: You catch on fast, San Diego.

I rubbed my eyes, getting off the couch, typing as I walked through my small apartment. I passed my roommate’s bedroom, noticing her snoring with her phone still looping the last TikTok she’d been watching.

As I reached my room, I took off my hoodie and left my phone on my bed, watching for the next message.

ME: So, tell me about your hockey match. MANHATTAN: Well… I actually got ejected so I didn’t do much. ME: Ahh, a ruffian. MANHATTAN: All I did was elbow a guy! ME: In the face? MANHATTAN: No comment. ME: While going really fast on knife shoes? MANHATTAN: I said no comment, San Diego 😠😠 But yes. I may have a little notoriety for… enforcing. ME: How many fights does college hockey have? Oh wow. MANHATTAN: I think that's enough of my sports career. Tell me about you. ME: About me? MANHATTAN: I want to know about you. I mean it, tell me something.

I hesitated, then smiled.

ME: Um, I can't think of anything… I just got into bed. MANHATTAN: Then you should go, San Diego, get some rest. Nice chatting with you (and I'll text you later in the day if that's alright). ME: Bye, Manhattan 👋 (and I wouldn't be opposed).

I placed my phone on the nightstand, my thoughts lingering on the unexpected connection as I drifted off to sleep.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I woke up to a new text message, my groggy eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness of my phone screen.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024today 10:32am MANHATTAN: Morning, San Diego! Did you sleep well?

I smiled at the message, feeling a little flutter in my chest. I hadn’t expected him to actually text me again, but here he was.

ME: Morning! I did, thanks 😊 How about you? Finally got some sleep after your 4 am texting spree? MANHATTAN: Eventually, yeah. Slept in a bit, but now I’m back at it. MANHATTAN: Classes and all that. ME: Fun times… What’s your major? MANHATTAN: Business. It’s alright, but hockey’s the real passion. You? ME: English, hence my very exciting letter-writing assignment 🙄 MANHATTAN: Ah, right. The one you’re totally not procrastinating on. ME: Exactly! I’m just waiting for inspiration to hit. MANHATTAN: Maybe I can help with that.

I raised an eyebrow at the screen, intrigued.

ME: Oh yeah? You’re a secret writing genius, Mr. Hockey? MANHATTAN: Hardly. But I’m good at roughing up boring ideas. Give me a shot. What’s the assignment again? ME: I have to write a long letter. Could be to anyone about anything… It's supposed to show off my writing skills. MANHATTAN: How about a letter to a stranger? Like some random person you met by mistake… 👀

I laughed, seeing where he was going with this.

ME: Sounds like something I’d do. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. MANHATTAN: If you need material, I can keep sending you nonsense texts. You know, for inspiration. ME: Careful, I might just put all your deepest, darkest secrets into my assignment. MANHATTAN: Bold of you to assume I have any secrets, San Diego. ME: Everyone has secrets, Manhattan.

There was a pause before he responded, the three little dots appearing and disappearing a few times. I wondered what he was thinking or if I’d said something to make him hesitate.

MANHATTAN: Guess you’ll have to keep talking to me to find out 😉 ME: Smooth. Real smooth. MANHATTAN: It’s part of my so-called charm. So, what’s your day looking like? ME: Not much, honestly. Maybe I’ll hit the library, try to get some work done. MANHATTAN: Or you could do something fun instead. Life’s too short to spend all day in the library. ME: Fun? What do you suggest? MANHATTAN: Well, if you were in Manhattan, I’d say we go skating. But since you’re all the way over there… What do people even do for fun in San Diego? ME: I could go to the beach… but it’s not really the best weather for it today. MANHATTAN: Rainy? ME: Just cloudy, kind of chilly. The ocean looks a bit gloomy when it’s like this. MANHATTAN: Gloomy beaches, sounds like a whole vibe. Maybe that’s your inspiration. A letter to the ocean or something. ME: You really think a letter to the ocean will get me a passing grade? MANHATTAN: If you write it well enough, why not? Make it all deep and meaningful. Professors eat that stuff up. ME: Haha, I’ll think about it. Anyway, what about you? Any big plans? MANHATTAN: Just practice later, then probably hanging out with the team. Nothing too exciting. ME: Sounds like a solid day. Try not to get ejected this time. MANHATTAN: No promises. Gotta keep my reputation, you know? ME: Right, the tough guy. I’ll keep that in mind. MANHATTAN: But I’m a softie at heart, San Diego. Don’t let the hockey fool you. ME: Noted. Maybe I’ll write that in my letter. “To the boy who’s tough on the ice but soft underneath…” MANHATTAN: Now you’re getting it. Make me sound mysterious. ME: Mysterious, huh? I’ll see what I can do.

I was grinning now, the banter flowing easily between us. There was something about this random stranger that made me feel lighter, like maybe today wasn’t going to be so dull after all.

ME: Alright, I should actually get ready if I’m going to do anything productive today. But thanks for the distraction, Manhattan. MANHATTAN: Anytime, San Diego. I’ll text you later? ME: Looking forward to it.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I was curled up on my couch, a mug of tea warming my hands as I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone. The past month had flown by, and my unexpected friendship with 'Manhattan' had become a regular part of my routine. We’d been texting nearly every day, sharing snippets of our lives, random thoughts, and plenty of playful banter. But lately, something had shifted—his messages had taken on a more flirty tone, and, honestly, I didn’t mind it.

My phone buzzed, and I smiled when his contact name popped up on the screen.

Friday, April 12, 2024today 8:45pm MANHATTAN: What’s up, San Diego? Missing me yet?

I couldn’t help but grin at his words. He’d been dropping little hints like this more and more, and each time, it sent a little thrill through me.

ME: Why would I miss you? We just talked this morning 😏 MANHATTAN: I don’t know, you tell me. Maybe you’re secretly counting down the hours until you hear from me again. ME: Oh, totally. I’m just sitting here pining away. MANHATTAN: Knew it. You can’t resist my charm. ME: Your ego is something else, you know that? MANHATTAN: Only because you feed it. Anyway, what’s the plan for tonight? Any hot dates?

I felt a little flutter in my chest at the question, even though I knew he was probably just teasing.

ME: Just me, myself, and I tonight. Super exciting. MANHATTAN: That’s a shame. If I were in San Diego, I’d take you out somewhere nice. ME: Oh yeah? Where would you take me, Mr. Big City? MANHATTAN: Somewhere with a view, good food, and even better company. ME: Wow, smooth talker. Do you use this line on all the girls? MANHATTAN: Only the ones who accidentally text me back 😉

I laughed, shaking my head at his response.

ME: Lucky me, I guess. MANHATTAN: I think I’m the lucky one here.

I paused, reading the message again, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. There it was again—that flirty edge that had been creeping into his texts lately. And I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like it.

ME: Is that so? MANHATTAN: Definitely. How many girls are cool enough to joke about turning me into a rug and then end up being someone I actually want to talk to every day? ME: Fair point. I’m one of a kind. MANHATTAN: That you are. So, since I’m not there to take you out, what are you doing to entertain yourself? ME: I’m just relaxing, maybe watching a movie later. Nothing too crazy. MANHATTAN: Sounds cozy. I’d offer to keep you company, but I’m not sure you’re ready to handle my charming self in person. ME: Oh, I’m sure I could handle you just fine. MANHATTAN: Careful, San Diego. I might take that as a challenge.

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves at his boldness. This was definitely new territory, but I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying it.

ME: Maybe I want you to.

There was a pause, and I watched the typing bubble appear and disappear, wondering what was going through his mind. My heart raced in anticipation, unsure of what to expect next. Then, my phone buzzed again—not with a message, but with a photo.

I opened it and stared at the image for a moment, a smile tugging at my lips. He was standing in what looked like a hallway, wearing a worn white T-shirt and a Yankees baseball cap. His hair was a little long, curling out from under the cap, and he had a faint mustache that gave him a laid-back, almost mischievous look. His smile was subtle but warm, like he wasn’t quite sure what to expect either.

MANHATTAN: Figured it’s only fair you see who you’re talking to.

I couldn’t help but feel my heart skip a beat. He was more than I’d imagined—there was something so genuine and relaxed about him, and that easy confidence I’d sensed in our conversations was clearly just a part of who he was.

ME: Not bad, Manhattan. Not bad at all. MANHATTAN: Glad you approve. Now, your turn?

I felt a rush of nerves as I realized he was asking for a photo in return. This felt like a big step—more real than anything we’d done before. But there was also something exciting about it, about finally showing him who I was after all this time.

I took a deep breath, then snapped a quick selfie, trying to capture something that felt natural but not too staged. I hesitated only for a second before hitting send, my heart pounding as I waited for his reaction.

ME: Alright, but don’t judge too harshly.

My phone buzzed almost immediately after I sent the photo. I could practically feel my pulse in my ears as I watched the screen, waiting for his response. It didn’t take long.

MANHATTAN: Wow.

I bit my lip, a small smile creeping onto my face. Just one word, but it was enough to make my stomach flip.

ME: "Wow" good, or "wow" bad? MANHATTAN: Definitely good. You’re beautiful, San Diego. I wasn’t prepared for that.

I felt my cheeks heat up at his words. There was something different about receiving a compliment from someone who’d only known me through words until now—someone who hadn’t seen my face but still wanted to know more about me.

ME: You’re just saying that. MANHATTAN: I’m really not. I mean it. I didn’t expect this whole wrong-number thing to turn into something like this, but I’m glad it did. ME: Me too. It’s been… nice, talking to you. Getting to know you. MANHATTAN: More than nice, if you ask me. But now that I’ve seen you, I kind of want to see more of you.

My heart skipped a beat at that. The idea of him wanting more, even though we’d only known each other through these messages, made something flutter inside me.

ME: More of me? How so? MANHATTAN: Not in a creepy way, I promise. Just… more of your thoughts, your stories. I like hearing about your day, what you’re up to. I guess I’m just curious about you. ME: You’re making me blush over here. MANHATTAN: Good. You’ve been doing that to me since day one.

I felt my face heat up even more, and I couldn’t help but smile. It was strange how this random guy from Manhattan, who I’d never even met, could make me feel this way.

ME: Well, if you’re really that curious, ask away. What do you want to know? MANHATTAN: That sounds perfect. What’s your favorite book? ME: That’s like asking a parent to pick their favorite child! How would you feel if I asked you your favorite hockey team? MANHATTAN: New York Rangers. Easy. Number 1 😉 ME: Alright, I'll take your word for it. MANHATTAN: So, tell me something else. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?

I laughed softly to myself, feeling that familiar warmth from our conversation. The idea of us just getting to know each other like this, little by little, was comforting. It felt safe and exciting all at once.

ME: I’ve always wanted to travel more. There’s a whole world out there, and I’ve only seen a tiny part of it. MANHATTAN: Where’s the first place you’d go? ME: Italy, I think. The food, the history, the art—I want to experience all of it. MANHATTAN: That sounds incredible. I’ve always wanted to see more of Europe, too. ME: Maybe one day we’ll both get there. Until then, I guess we’ll just have to keep texting about it. MANHATTAN: I’m more than okay with that, San Diego. Talking to you is the best part of my day. ME: Same here, Manhattan.

As I set my phone down, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. There was no rush, no pressure—just a growing connection with someone who was quickly becoming more than just a stranger on the other end of a text. And for now, that was more than enough.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

It had been almost a month since the night I saw Manhattan’s face for the first time, and our conversations had only gotten better since then. We talked almost every day, sharing little details about our lives, random thoughts, and sometimes just silence on the other end of the line when we were both too tired to text much. I was surprised by how close I’d grown to him, even without meeting in person.

One afternoon, I got an email from one of my professors that sent my heart racing. My university was offering a select group of students a fully-funded, three-day trip to New York City to attend a special literary conference. The idea was to network, attend workshops, and get a taste of the publishing world in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. And somehow, I’d been chosen.

As soon as I read the email, my mind went straight to Manhattan. The idea of being in the same city as him, even if I wasn’t planning on meeting up, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. But as much as I wanted to share the news with him, a different thought crossed my mind—a surprise. What if I didn’t tell him? What if I showed up in his city and surprised him with the news?

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. He’d been so open and sweet in our conversations, and I wanted to do something special. It felt like the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard, in a good way.

That evening, when I grabbed my phone to text him, I felt a little mischievous. I decided to keep the New York trip to myself for now.

Tuesday, May 2, 2024today 8:45pm ME: Hey, how’s your day going? MANHATTAN: Not bad, just finished practice. How about you? ME: Same old, same old. Classes, assignments, you know the drill. MANHATTAN: Ah, the glamorous life of a student. Anything exciting on the horizon?

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to spill the beans.

ME: Nothing too crazy. Just trying to survive this semester. MANHATTAN: You’ve got this. I believe in you, San Diego. ME: Thanks, Manhattan. I appreciate that. MANHATTAN: Anytime. So, what’s on your mind? ME: Honestly, just thinking about how much I’d love to get away for a bit. You know, escape the routine. MANHATTAN: I hear you. If you ever find yourself in need of a change of scenery, you know where to find me 😉

I smiled to myself, knowing that in just a few weeks, I would be much closer to him than he realized.

ME: I’ll keep that in mind. MANHATTAN: Good. I’d be happy to play tour guide if you ever made it to the Big Apple. ME: I’ll have to remember that. You seem like you’d be a pretty good tour guide. MANHATTAN: Oh, I am. You’d be in excellent hands.

I chuckled, the idea of actually seeing him in person lingering in the back of my mind. But for now, I decided to keep the surprise to myself.

ME: I’ll bet. Maybe one day I’ll take you up on that offer. MANHATTAN: I hope so. It would be fun.

A sense of anticipation buzzed through me. The thought of being in New York, in his city, and surprising him with my presence was exciting. It was something to look forward to, something just for me, and maybe for him too—when the time was right.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

to be continued... hehehe

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saintzweig · 2 months ago

Note

I’m back. are you sick of me yet. anyway!! I’ve been OBSESSED with the idea of patrick studying law, like idk that just makes so much sense and with that I propose to you: patrick on the mock trial team, or speech and debate. all of the guys on the tennis team think he’s a fucking NERD for doing it, art thinks it’s cool tho! tashi is his go to for practicing his debates before tournaments and she purposely plays devils advocate to piss him off majorly. BUTT going back to u saying reader being a like.. journalism major and working for the campus newspaper, imagine her covering a speech and debate thing and seeing patrick and being like, hm fuckin nerd, but then she goes to a tennis match the next week (bc a friend of hers is like. obsessed with art or some other guy on the team) and then she realizes that guy on the speech and debate team is on the tennis team and he’s like, actually really hot. and then that night she’s at a frat party and she’s getting pulled into a bathroom by a hot as hell guy and, surprise surprise, it’s patrick again. he writes his phone number on some university promotional flier for speech and debate in bright blue pen (using art’s back as a table) and she dies right then and there (and every weekend after when his cock is in her mouth for “stress relief”) - 🎾

(I fear I need to come out of fanfic writing retirement.)

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGG i thought about this hard with the very little juice left in my brain. not proofread bc its 3am ... might make the smut part a whole fic :")

you walked into the auditorium, a ‘stanford daily’ id hanging from your neck and a DSLR camera in your hands as you made your way through the sparse crowd to your assigned seat. you're in your third year of uni and elected co-editor in chief at the standford daily, so your job is mostly looking over the process and production of the weekly paper– this meant that you haven't been assigned to cover an event in a while given that you were the one assigning them. but the student who was supposed to cover this debate got sick, and no one else was available so you took it upon yourself to do the job.

you were surprised to see tashi duncan and art donaldson a few rows in front of you, talking amongst themselves. they're well known on campus, being on the tennis team. you haven't seen or read anything about their life outside of the court, but why a debate event on a tuesday morning? were they that bored? or do they genuinely think that these events are entertaining?

your unspoken questions were answered when the debate team was called to the stage, and there stood patrick zweig with a smug look on his face. you've never seen him in person before but he was a usual subject in the paper– being a reckless and easily agitated but damn good tennis player. now you're finding out that not only is he on the debate team, he is the captain. and a pre-law student? does this guy come from money or is he just a fucking nerd.

you've always thought debates to be boring, even if you're a liberal arts student. but patrick zweig proved you wrong. it was mesmerizing to watch how smooth he was with his arguments, he knew the right words to say, the right points to make and the right buttons to push. he riled his opponents up but in a way that doesn't cross the line and break the rules. it was mesmerizing to watch him smirk, as if he found joy in proving others that they're wrong. you didn't even notice that you're on the edge of your seat, squeezing your thighs together.

you brought the camera up to your face, squinting as you focused the lens on the members of the debate team. and as your camera pans over to patrick, he was already looking directly at you. smirking as he watched you falter for a moment before snapping the photo. you left in a rush as soon as the event ended, heart racing against your will. what the fuck was that?

two weeks later, you find yourself being dragged by your best friend to a tennis game on campus. stanford versus pepperdine. the men's team are playing today and your best friend bribed you with food to get you to come with her and cheer art donaldson on. the first match started and it was a doubles, art and patrick versus two players from the opposing side. if the sight of patrick defeating his opponents in uniform got your heart racing, be prepared to see him do it in shorts. his thighs were godly and you couldn't take your eyes off it.

you finally saw him play, seeing his personality on court that everyone was talking about. his serves were unusual but his backhands were fucking hypnotizing. the sounds of the ball being hit back and forth vibrating in your ears, your heart almost exploded when you heard how loud his grunts were as he plays. like before, you found yourself at the edge of your seat, squeezing your thighs together.

during the break, patrick took the time to scan the crowd before his eyes landed on yours. your mouth gapes slightly open as you feel him stare into you, his lips parted and wrapped around the mouth of his water bottle, the liquid dripping down his chin. he wiped it away, sending you a wink. you don't think you've seen anyone this hot before.

as if dragging you to a tennis game wasn't enough, you found yourself in a party at some random house that you (unwillingly) and your friend crashed. however, as soon as you walked in, she was taken out of your grasp into a bedroom by her situationship, leaving you to your own devices. you decided to grab a cup of the horribly sweet yet bitter punch in the kitchen before making your way through the house, dragging your fingertips against the wall and feeling the vibration of the music.

you yelp as someone grasped at your arm and pulled you into the bathroom, the punch nearly spilling all over them. it was patrick, smirking down on you as he crossed his arms, flexing his biceps against the fabric of his polo shirt. “you're a journalist, right?” his voice was soft towards you, unlike the tone he used in the debate and unlike the rasp when he yelled victory during the game.

you nod, a tinge of pink dusting your cheeks. he smiled at your appearance, you look so tiny next to him and the way you looked up at him, jesus.

he grabbed a pen from his pocket, placing the cap between his lips as he pulled it off. he takes your arm, pants tightening as he took in the size difference of your arm against his. he chuckles lowly, scribbling his number on your arm. you only stared at him, the proximity making your core throb. “call me, yeah?” he smirks, patting your cheek gently with his large hand before exiting the bathroom. leaving you frozen and aching.

#🎾 anon ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅#saintzweig asks ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅#saintzweig writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅#challengers #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers blurb #patrick zweig x reader

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arafilez · 7 months ago

Text

੭୧ ⼂ LIES YOU BUILT ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ kwh x reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤangst, no comfort, bsf to strangers ㅤ warnings crying, woonhak is a little toxic ㅤ﹢ㅤ1k wc

Kim Woonhak,

It’s stupid how you still have a mark in my life, the smallest importance with the biggest meaning. Your footprints over my soul never washed away, instead, they stay, stubborn and scratched, like rock carvings. To put it simply I hate you. That is pretty straightforward, isn’t it? I am like that, I have always been like that. Oh, wait you know that already. You used to find me simple, you loved that. Said we completed each other. Now, I cry in my bed thinking about all the lies you fed me about being best friends forever.

Oh, the lies you mastered so well!

I regret every one of those days I had called you up just so I could update you on my life. Every single secret, every laugh, and every tear I had told you of and every bit of our shared stories. I used to be interesting to you, so when did I become so boring that you had to find newer, more popular and cooler friends? What happened to our late-night chats, the ones till three where we both had to hide from our parents with excuses? Where are the stories now? Did you forget them as easily as you threw away our friendship? Did you tell your new friends my stories just so you could get a good laugh out of them? A good laugh out of the class’s lame bitch’s stories- yeah I believe you can do that. If anyone told me a year ago that Kim Woonhak is doing this I would have laughed at their faces. Now, I am the one who scoffs and tells those to the few classmates who feel sympathy for me.

Pathetic! I am pathetic!

There is still no note, no explanation, not a single sentence you said about this while I hold on to the thread loosely binding the last pieces of our friendship. Every time I asked you what was wrong you had one word, “Nothing.” Where was I wrong? I think I was wrong to put my trust in you. Tell me why you left our friendship as if it was not even worth the dirt under your shoe? Tell me why am I still hung up on our last conversation even if it was just you taking advantage of me and wanting my notes? Tell me, did I become lame after you found friends who are more popular than me? Tell me, was I lame the way I behaved? Or was it the way I became loud when I got excited or the way I laughed? Did that make you leave and go to your new friends who have the “cool” aura? How could you take everything I love and crush it so easily? Are your fingers that strong Woonhak?

What happened to our years of friendship Woonhak? Why does this hurt more than any break-up ever did? Why does every time now a simple, sub-important friendship breaks or an argument happens with my friends do I hurriedly apologise multiple times even if I was not in the wrong? Why does it always me feel maybe I am the rotten apple among my friends? Why does your face drop in my mind every time I think I am not enough? Why I am still hung up on you when I have so many newer friends who actually appreciate me? Why do I still picture myself in the mirror arguing with you and putting you in your place with my words and my confidence? Confidence I have only when I am alone? Why do I fantasize about a time you even feel a little fucking sorry for doing all this?

I have so many questions for you, questions I never got to ask and questions that formed later. What did I do for you to break this friendship? Where was I wrong? Why did you start ignoring me that Tuesday when we talked on Monday? Why did you make sure your whole new friend circle hate me? Why did you make fun of me with them? How could you do that? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Was it that worthless? Was I wasting that much of your time?

Do you think I am being dramatic? Then explain this!

I have so many friends, but every time a minor crack appears, my insecurities build up. Insecurities that weren’t there till you crafted them. Insecurities that weren’t there till you made fun of me in front of me only. Insecurities that weren’t there before you decided to blatantly ignore me one day after our years of friendship. Insecurities that weren’t there until you decided the term best friend is not for me anymore. I would say we both drew blood, and we both got hurt, but were those cuts ever equal?

This is all very straightforward, isn’t it? That’s the second time I am asking you that. Because damn hell, it is. It is my rawest and truest emotions and I don’t want to twist my words to let you know this, which you never will. The worst part of the whole thing is that you will never read this, I will never send this and this will not get you a scratch but it is jabbing my heart multiple times. Twisting the knife you crafted especially for me and pushing it in repeatedly. Why would you do this all to me? Can we talk? Is there something there you never told me and let it build inside you? Or am I just simply horrible? I wish I could let it go, I have tried so many times but I can’t. I wish I could forgive you but what should I forgive you and your cocky, small-minded friends for? Nothing! It is terrible how you come into my mind whenever the smallest incident occurs and I think of telling you, and then it hits me again.

You are still everything to me while I am nothing to you!

From Y/n

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤ is this self-indulgent? yes, a lot! i will be back with bonedo fluff tho TT ㅤ𓏧ㅤ library ㅤ bnd shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @slytherinshua ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

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imnotaacat · 6 months ago

Text

You (not) Belong to Me

bestfriend!Steve x fem reader / boyfriend!Eddie x fem reader.

— Summary: You were always in love with your best friend Steve, however, he never noticed it and when he did it was too late.

— Warnings: Angst, friends to enemies, insults, and some fluff with Eddie at the end. (I think that's all)

A/n: English is not my native language, sorry if something is written wrong, I hope everything can be understood. :)

Five years have passed since you moved from Hawkins to follow your dream, it was very difficult of course, but now, you are one of the most important artists in the industry. Many emotions were passing through your mind, many memories, your friends, your best friends, would finally be together again.

It was very difficult to convince your agency and manager that they would agree to have a date in Hawkins, but after some insistence, they agreed. Hawkins was a quiet, boring town, but now that you and Corroed Coffin had included it in your respective tours, the town was in chaos. Despite having called its leader and vocalist, Eddie Munson, satanic.

After two and a half hours of flight, your plane landed, there was a crowd at the airport shouting your name, holding banners, and asking for photos and autographs, you signed the ones you could, while you got to the car that would take you to your hotel, you agreed to see your friends after your concert, so you will rest better.

You were about to end the show, this would be the last song, you were so happy to see how people had fun and sang all the songs on the setlist.

“Alright Hawkins, are you ready to go back to high school with me?” The entire crowd shouted, and that song that more than one identified with began to play.

"You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset She's going off about something that you said 'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do I'm in my room, it's a typical Tuesday night I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like And she'll never know your story like I do"

Despite the lights you could see your friends in the crowd, seeing that scene where they were chanting and enjoying your songs made you even happier. You really appreciated the support of your friends, they always gave you words of encouragement, even when you thought you wouldn't make it, but now look at you, you fill entire stadiums and arenas.

"And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down You say you're fine, I know you better than that Hey, what ya doing with a girl like that?"

At that moment something clicked in Steve's brain.

You were neighbors since you were children, however, being “King Steve” and you being just another “normal” student, there was never any interaction beyond casual greetings, however, that changed when you reached high school, being in the same class and also being neighbors, the friendship between you blossomed quite quickly. Without realizing it, you went and did everything together, many began to believe that you were dating, but you always denied it. However, behind all the times you denied it, there was a reality, you liked Steve.

"She wears high heels, I wear sneakers She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find That what you're looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you Been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me"

Steve started dating a girl from high school, she was the captain of the cheerleaders, like her best friend, you gave him all the encouragement and confidence to ask about a first date, to ask for a second date, and even to formalize the relationship; although inside you were dying of jealousy and reproaching yourself for not having the courage to tell him what you felt for him.

When the relationship ended after a few months, Steve, although he didn't show it, was heartbroken, so there you were, giving him words of encouragement and your shoulder to cry on, reproaching yourself again for not telling him your feelings.

"Oh, I remember you driving to my house In the middle of the night I'm the one who makes you laugh When you know you're about to cry

I know your favorite songs And you tell me about your dreams Think I know where you belong Think I know it's with me"

After class you had told Steve that you weren't feeling very well, so you weren't going to the party with him; he insisted on staying with you and taking care of you, but you rejected him claiming that you didn't want him to miss out on the fun and the opportunity to meet a girl that night. However, the reality is that you did not want to have him close, you did not want to see him flirt with various girls at the party, while your heart would break into a thousand pieces, you did not want to be alone with him, and fight with yourself for fear of rejection.

It was around 11:30 when you heard the doorbell ring, It had already rung several times, but you didn't dare open it, because you were alone at home and Steve was also too far away to help you, if was a serial killer or something similar, you turned off the television, stood up and began to climb the stairs as far as possible. As silent as possible, your doorbell kept ringing.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay? It's Steve." Your legs weakened a little when you heard the nickname, you stood there for a few more seconds and then went down the stairs again and opened the door. “Steve? What are you doing here? It's not even twelve…” Steve entered your house and gave you what he had in his hands, four pieces of pizza, probably from the party, some gas station chocolates, and a small bouquet of roses that were almost withered. “I know, honey, but I didn't feel good at the party knowing that you weren't well, so I decided to come here, accompany you, and help you with whatever you need.” Steve turned to look at you and raised both thumbs. “Steve, it wasn't necessary, I already feel much better, I'm serious.” However, I can't hear you anymore, I was arriving at your room.

That night they spent together, they talked about school, problems with her parents, and love dramas. Finally, he discovered that your spirits were low because of a boy, so for about an hour, he asked you the name of the boy, without knowing that he was him.

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me You belong with me

You belong with me Have you ever thought just maybe You belong with me You belong with me"

“Thank you very much, Hawkins! A round of applause for this wonderful band that accompanies me, a round of applause for you, I hope to see you soon, thank you very much.” You said goodbye to your audience as you left the stage, leaving behind the screams of all the people who loved and supported you. Steve also quickly got up from his seat heading towards your dressing room, he ran as fast as he could to avoid encountering the entire crowd. Finally, he was able to sneak through the crowd and the small spaces under the stage to get to your dressing room, he knocked on the door insistently, until you finally opened it.

“Steve!” You quickly hugged him. “Sweetheart” He said while hugging you, “You know, I finally understood everything, I understood why my relationships never lasted with any girl” He began to say with a smile, as he separated from the hug and took your hands, you just had a face surprised and confused. “What are you talking about Steve? I'm not understanding you at all” You said laughing, his eyes went to yours. “It was always you, I was always in love with you, I finally understood all the signals you were giving me… I really was an idiot for not realizing it.” Steve said with a smile, a slight blush on his cheeks, you didn't know what to say. “Steve I—” Your words were interrupted by your other friends who shouted to get your attention and ran to hug you.

“It's good to see you all again, thank you very much for coming.” You spoke, as you looked at your friends. “My god, you guys have grown so much” You spoke addressing Dustin, Mike, Will, Eleven, and Max. Who smiled back at you. “It's incredible to be all together again… Only Eddie is missing and the whole group will be reunited again, it's a shame he's coming here until tomorrow.” Dustin spoke, you simply nodded with a mischievous smile, while the others discussed agreeing with him.

“Love, everything is done, we can go with the boys.” Said a voice speaking distractedly, also walking looking backwards, making sure everything was in its place and order. “Edward…”You spoke. Eddie turned to look at you with a smile and then saw who you were talking to, the one who was waiting to see you talking to your team quickly covered his mouth, “Shit” hoping that by magic no one would have heard what he had called you. All your friends looked at them surprised, especially Steve, “Did you listen carefully to what he said?”, “Did everyone hear the same thing?” They all asked at the same time, you and Eddie just laughed, and you raised your left hand to your mouth to cover your laughter a little, “Wait… You already have the ring!” Robin shouted, everyone stopped talking and turned to look at them again, “God, at what point?” “When were you planning to tell us?”, “Were you guys already dating when you left here?” Dustin asked, everyone had a lot of questions at that moment. “Oh no dude, three years ago she was part of the cover of one of the band's albums, we started talking more often and well, now we're going to get married” Eddie explained with a big smile on his face. While all this was going on and Eddie was answering some questions you noticed that Steve's mood and expressions had changed and rightly so. Actually, in those years that you were in love with him, you gave him all the signs you could, even the most obvious ones, like the time you kissed him pretending to be a little drunk, however, there was no response from him, so from that moment on you decided forgetting him, you moved to Los Angeles and met Eddie again, from the moment you started talking to him you realized how gentlemanly and warm he was, you never noticed it when you still lived in Hawkins, he quickly won your heart, and Now you were about to marry him, the love of your life.

“Love, is everything okay?” Eddie asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I'm sorry, I zoned out a little, I remember how we had it before, I'm very happy that we are together again” You responded with a smile, Eddie hugged you and kissed you on the forehead. “What do they say about going out to eat something?” Dustin said, “I'm hungry and you two must give us a lot of answers.” Everyone laughed. “We can go to my house, we can be calmer,” Steve spoke, with a noticeably low mood.

“Does anyone know what's wrong with Steve? Since we came back it's been weird” Robin said, looking at Steve who was in the backyard of his house. The others denied. “He probably didn't have a good day,” you said. “I spend the whole day excited about tonight, it's weird” Dustin added. “I'll go talk to him” You warned as you stood up and walked in Steve's direction.

"Everything is alright?" You asked, but there was no answer, so you just sat next to him, giving him space, “You're my best friend, I know we haven't lost communication a bit, but you can still trust me.” Again there was no response, although you had an idea of what he might have, from what he had told you in your dressing room. “That's the problem” He finally spoke, turning to look at you. “I'm your best friend” You didn't respond. “Why did you never tell me?” He asked, a hint of confusion showing on your face. “Tell you what?” Asked. “That you were in love with me” Your confused expression became a little more evident. “I knew you were like this because of this” You stopped looking at him and directed your gaze towards your ring. “If you had only told me, I would have given you the ring you are wearing,” I added. A little anger began to grow in your chest. “Are you really in love with him?” Asked. “Or are you just with him out of spite?” You didn't answer anything, you could hear how drunk he was, so he was just saying it because he was drunk, not because he meant it. “What does he have that I don't have?” “Edward Munson” He let out a sarcastic laugh. “What could be so special about the freak?” “What does the freak have that King Steve doesn't, huh?” He said with an annoyed tone in his voice, you remained silent, you really didn't want to say anything and ruin your friendship, however with everything Steve was saying, he was going that way, Steve probably wouldn't remember tomorrow, but you would, and probably after that night the friendship between the two of you would no longer exist.

"I bet when you realized that I didn't feel the same way about you, you ran into his arms." You remained silent, you didn't believe everything he was telling you, he was your best friend, how could he say something like that about you? "You know... For a long time it was said that you were a slut, I never believed them but now I realize it was the truth" Steve laughed at the moment, he turned to look at you, and you were already looking at him, however, the tears were beginning to come out. your eyes. “I’m thankful I never dated you, can you imagine King Steve dating a slut?” once again he laughed. Without realizing it, Eddie was a short distance from you, he had heard everything, to say that he was angry would be flattery, he wanted to go with you and confront Steve himself, however, he restrained himself, he knew that it was a problem between you and Steve, He shouldn't get involved, you two would talk later.

The anger was already accumulated in your chest, Steve reacted until he felt the burning of your hand on his cheek, there he woke up, he realized everything he had told you, and he regretted it instantly, however, it was too late. "You're an Idiot!" You said a little louder, getting your friend's attention. “I gave you a lot of signs when I was in love with you, all our friends realized it, except you Steve, even someone who didn't know you or me would have realized it” Steve's face of regret was evident, all the others were now only a meter away from the two of you. "You know... now I'm grateful not to be with you, I always thought you were a gentleman, but now I realize that when you're drunk you transform, your true self takes over you, imagine being your best friend, you call me a slut, what wouldn't you say to me being your girlfriend or wife?” Steve felt the gaze of all his friends staring at him, especially Eddie's, without even seeing him he could tell that he was very angry. “You could have fooled us all Steve, saying that you had changed, that you were different, but now I realize that you will always be the idiotic and stupid King Steve” You said. You gave him one last look and then went inside the house to grab your things, Eddie followed you, and you noticed how angry Eddie was, you took his hand, then you remembered that your friends were still there, you turned to see them, their confused faces told you everything. “Guys… sorry about this… I didn't think it would end like this tonight, I'll make it up to you, I promise.” Everyone nodded and some said there was no problem. You and Eddie left Steve's house hand in hand and headed to the car you had rented, before getting in you could notice a flash behind you. “Shit” They both thought.

After that discussion everyone went home, Steve was alone again, the regret was much greater than him, the image of all his friends being disappointed in him after you left was present in his head, but without However, the one that was repeated the most was yours, seeing him with teary eyes listening to him call you “slut”, he wondered what had happened to him, why call the person he loved that way, the person he has always loved. It had probably been jealousy, for not acting sooner, and now you were happy for someone else, the guilt was killing him, if he found out that you and Eddie broke up because of that, he definitely wouldn't be able to live in peace, he knew you would never want to have anything. with him now, and knowing that the person you loved would leave because of him, he couldn't bear it.

The walk from Steve's house to his hotel had been silent, which meant something to you, you and Eddie always had something to talk about, even if it was stupid. Once in his hotel room, you headed to the bathroom and Eddie stayed in the small living room. You took a rather long shower, and when you came out of the shower you noticed that Eddie was not in the room, you put on your pajamas and got ready to sleep and rest, tomorrow you would talk to him and explain everything to him. For about thirty minutes you tried to fall asleep, but you just couldn't do it, you got out of bed and headed to the small living room, there you saw Eddie sitting, he had a music book in his hands, without making much noise. When you approached him and sat on the couch leaving a little space between you, he turned to look at you, the image he saw made his anger return, you looked tired and irritated, and rightly so, after a concert and everything that step, your eyes were red and swollen, making it obvious that you had cried. “I don't want to bother you, I just want to talk to you… explain what happened.” You spoke, Eddie responded a few seconds later, “You don't have to explain anything to me, I know what happened” He responded, you looked down at your ring, it was probably over between the two of you. “I'm not mad at you, Love… I'm mad at Steve, for everything he said, for what he called you…” You turned to look at him. “I always thought that you and him were dating, that's why I didn't dare to confess it to you when we were at school… But when you told me that you and he weren't together, I didn't want to miss the opportunity to be with you and since that day I haven't regretted it.” Eddie smiled, opening his arms in a hug, and you snuggled into his arms. “I love you so much” You said, “I love you too” He responded, getting up and carrying your bridal style towards the bedroom.

A year later you found yourself on stage again at Hawkings, your wedding with Eddie would have been a few months after their photos appeared in the newspaper speculating about their relationship, the day of the fight at Steve's house.

“Very good Hawkins, I'm very happy to be here tonight, for the next song, someone very special will accompany me on guitar, with you, Eddie Munson!” Eddie came out on stage, the entire crowd went crazy, absolutely everyone since those speculations about the two of you, he began to comment that you would be a great couple, one of the best in the artistic medium. However, no one confirmed or denied the news. Eddie greeted the crowd, then hugged you, and you confirmed your relationship with a kiss, the audience once again applauded and screamed at this.

You brought your microphone closer to him, “Good evening Hawkins, I'm glad to be here with you, but above all to share the stage with this wonderful girl” He said looking at you “Now we will play for you “Slut!”” The crowd went crazy once again, there was a lot of speculation. and theories for who this song would be for, but now, it was more than confirmed.

"Flamingo pink, Sunrise boulevard Clink, clink, being this young is art Aquamarine, moonlit swimming pool What if all I need is you?"

Steve, who had gone to your concert, was clearly incognito because, after that night, the group had decided not to communicate with him much. I knew that fight could have perhaps inspired this song, although I wasn't proud of the way you had written a song, thinking of him.

I hope you like this short (long) one shot, it's the first time I have written something like this, so I would also like you to give advice or recommendations. I hope it's not too long or boring. I would appreciate your comments. 💗

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn

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