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ahgasegotarmy116 · 6 months

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Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Five

Summary: You start a conversation with Jungkook about where you stand but are interrupted by an uninvited visitor Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 4.7K~ Warnings: Suggestive and explicit language (an argument). Nothing too crazy honestly. Horribly edited too because it's been three weeks and I wanted to get it out! a/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out but I was away from home for a week and then wrote a couple of one shots and blah blah blah lol but anyways I hope you enjoyyyy Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜

After our eventful afternoon Jungkook and I ended up laying in his bed and watching movies since like he said, he wanted me to be "well rested" before we have the talk. The talk that could change everything between us...

There are multiple outcomes to this scenario and I'm not sure if I'm ready for any of them.

On one hand he could say this was all a mistake and he was just acting on his urges. I know now for damn sure though that he's attracted to me but I don't know what his motives and feeling are towards me. If he even has any besides surface level physical attraction.

On the other hand he could want to pursue a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Being fuck buddies or whatever with an older man does sound exciting when I think about doing it with him. It's just that don't know if I'd want something like that even if it was with him.

I told Jared before that I wanted to save myself for marriage and I feel like that's something I still want to stick to. I've definitely crossed so many lines with Jungkook in the last not even twenty four hours, more like twelve hours or something like that but regardless lines have been crossed and I'm still not sure how I feel about any of it.

I want to say that I don't regret it and it's not just because it felt fucking phenomenal and out of this world but because I feel safe with him.

It might just be because over the past couple of months that I've been living with him he's become someone I care about and honestly trust with my life so I didn't really feel a need to say no to him. I wanted it to happen, I know I did I just didn't really think it would ever happen. I thought that it would stay in my hormonal fantasies forever and I was okay with that.

The way he's been treating me has shown me that he cares about me. Although I was trying to convince myself that it was somewhat of a paternal instinct in him and that he was just being protective over me, I knew that it was something beyond that.

I tried to somewhat address it in a weird sort of way with the whole asking why he didn't have anyone over conversation and he knew what I was trying to ask and addressed it but his answer made me even more confused.

"I wouldn't want to ruin what we have going on here" like what does that even mean? He doesn't want to ruin the dynamic we have in the house in terms of we're comfortable with each other and feel no need to let anyone inside our little safe space.

Or did he mean that he didn't want to ruin what we have going on here because he wanted to see where things went with us on a more romantic level?

He hasn't explicitly told me that he would want to pursue a relationship with me but circling back to before he's given me clear signs that he's attracted to me and isn't one to hide it.

He knows to a certain extent that I find him attractive too because I asked him to take my virginity. (I'm never gonna be able to live that one down) Anyone could tell that he was clearly struggling to hold himself back and the fact that he kissed me just shows that he wanted to. That he wanted me.

Then there's another possibility that he might want a sugar baby sort of relationship and I don't even want to think about something like that.

Don't get me wrong! I respect the hustle, but that's just not for me.

If I'm gonna be doing something like what we are doing right now then I want it to be something that I want to do without any ulterior motive. I don't want to put a monetary value on the time I spend with him but not gonna lie, living it large and not having to worry about money or working sounds very tempting.

I don't think he's that kind of man though...or at least I hope he's not.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks playfully, having noticed that I haven't really been paying attention to the movie we've been watching.

"Just thinking" I answer, cuddling in closer to him as I've refused to let go of him today and he hasn't made moves to do any different.

"Bout what?" he prods further, placing a kiss on the top of my head and taking in the fresh scent of his shampoo in my hair.

"Things" I continue, liking the game we've started to play.

"What sort of things?" he chuckles, telling me that he's enjoying it too.

"All kinds of things" I say nuzzling closer into him and he wraps his arm tighter around me to keep me there.

"Wanna share a few?" he asks, clearly not letting this go since he wants to at least make sure I'm okay.

"Thinking about how you might want to make me your sugar baby" I mumble into his chest and he laughs wholeheartedly making me even more embarrassed.

"Is that something you'd want?" he asks and I shake my head.

"You don't wanna be at home and sit pretty, waiting for me to come back and shower you with gifts and jewelry and give you the world?" he teases while pinching my sides making me pull away from him, trying to escape.

"N-no! Now s-stop" I choke out through laughter and gasps of breath. "What would you want" he asks after having tackled me down onto the mattress making sure to do a thorough job of tickling me until I could barely breathe.

I take a second to think, my eyes going back and forth between his while his stay still, focused and almost begging for an answer.

"I thought we weren't going to have this conversation until I was well rested" I say, breathless, still not knowing up from down when it comes to us. If there even is an 'us'.

"You feel well rested?" he asks, cocking a brow at me and I nod my head quickly, giving me a crooked smile in response. "Then it's perfect timing right?" he continues and I nod again leaving him getting off of me and leaning his back against the headboard, waiting to hear what I have to say.

I take a minute or so to gather my thoughts and the whole time he's watching me curiously, almost able to see the wheels turning in my head.

"What happened between us kind of caught me by surprise" I start, looking down at my lap and playing with my fingers nervously. "I don't regret it, it was just, well I'm just kind of confused about how you feel about me, and I'm really confused about how I feel about you" I admit and I can see his expression go a bit wary but I jump at the chance to explain myself.

"It's just that I think both of us know at this point that we're extremely attracted to each other" I start out and the corner of his lips upturns for a second but nods in confirmation, waiting for me to continue.

"With us getting physical and all so quickly I can't help but think that maybe we should take a step back. I would like to know your thoughts and intentions and feelings about all of this. I might be overthinking it but I really think it's best to be up front and honest with each other" I say and take in a shaky breath, scared I might've said the wrong thing.

"You're so sexy when you act so mature like that" he taunts and I groan, wanting to keep this serious. "I'm just playing Bunny. Well I'm not because you really are sexy but I don't want you to feel all nervous and insecure like you are right now. We're being open and honest right?" he questions and I nod my head, eager for him to continue.

"Meaning it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you that I have feelings for you right?" he says and my eye bug out in response, not knowing what to do now. "Wasn't expecting that huh?" he chuckles and I shake my head making him laugh even more.

"Cat got your tongue Darling?" he teases and scoff at that. "No I was just being polite and letting you keep talking since you let me do the same" I say, making excuses and trying to keep my voice level.

"Sure Bunny" he smirks not believing a word I said but continuing nevertheless.

"I've had feelings for you for a while now and I haven't told you or acted on it because I wanted to respect the fact that you were in a relationship. I never liked Jared though for what it's worth" he says without hesitation and it makes me cringe at the thought that I was about to marry that snake.

"Is it harsh to say I'm glad he's out of the picture?" he says boldly making me laugh. "Not just because it benefitted me but because he didn't deserve to marry a beautiful, intelligent, kind hearted woman like you. I would've said something but I'm not your father so I knew it wasn't my place" he finishes and making me smile, thankful that he was so considerate.

Now that I think about it, even back then I respected and trusted his judgement so it wouldn't have bothered me even if he did say something.

"It's not harsh to say because I'm happy about it too. To be honest though I don't really know what I ever saw in him. I think because he was the first guy that more or less respected my boundaries that I thought I had to hold onto him. I don't know" I say and he nods his head.

This is something I haven't experienced before. Someone sitting and taking the time to actually talk things out without any outside distractions and focusing on each other and hearing each other out.

Maybe it's just an age thing and the fact that Jungkook does fit the standard of dating older and more mature men is better. We're not dating though, but I guess we'll hopefully figure out where we stand once this conversation comes to a close.

"I'm really confused and I kind of don't know how to feel but I'm not closed off to figuring things out" I say, glancing up at him and back down at my lap, nervous from seeing how fascinated he is with me right now.

I hold my breath and wait for him to say something but when nothing ever comes I chance looking up at him again and I'm surprised to see how he's still watching me.

"Like I said, I've had feelings for you for a while and if you're open to seeing where things go then I would really like to take you out on a date. Like on a proper date. I know since we've been living together and we've been spending a lot of time together but I-" he start off strong but begins to ramble and is regretfully cut off by the sound of the front door opening.

"Dad! Dad where are you?" Jina calls out and neither of us dares to move or make a sound. "Dad" Jina drags out, regretfully confirming that I am in fact not dreaming. "Be down in a second" he says then presses a finger to his lips.

"Just stay in here and I'll take care of it" he whispers and I nod my head, watching him as he panics internally before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind him.

What the hell are we gonna do? My car is out there! Or wait, did I put it in the garage yesterday? I can't remember but I really hope it's not out there otherwise she'll already know I'm here.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook says. I can hear his muffled voice through the walls and I know I probably shouldn't listen but curiosity gets the best of me making me rush to the door and quietly crack it open, needing to hear how this conversation goes.

"Nice to see you too dad" she says, and I hate the fact that I'm only able to hear them but I'll settle for this.

"You should've contacted me before you came over Jina. You know I don't like people showing up unannounced" he says sternly.

"You're usually totally fine with me coming over" she says sounding thoroughly confused and I can hear Jungkook clear his throat before she starts again.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks after no doubt clocking the dishes that were left over from lunch. Two plates, two cups and two sets of silverware. A dead giveaway that someone is here especially since it hasn't been cleaned up yet.

"You are actually" he says and I trip, surprised that he would straight up admit it but he has no reason to hide, and neither do I.

Having pushed the door open thanks to my clumsiness (somehow able to stay upright and keep my dignity this time) I'm faced with the dilemma of if I should just go back inside and pretend that never happened when it clearly did or come out and face her.

I'm given the luxury of having that choice since she hasn't seen me yet but I decide it's better to do this as soon as possible. We've hid the fact that I've been living here for two months so what's adding on the fact that I've been messing around with her father while doing so.

(Although this is a newly added feature but she doesn't need to know that)

I take a deep breath before stepping out from behind the door, watching Jina's face go from surprised to confused to disgusted to angry before turning back towards her father.

"You're fucking my best friend?" she accuses, not completely wrong but semantics.

"Best friend's don't fuck around and get pregnant by their friend's fiancees" I remind her, walking down the stairs in conveniently only Jungkook's shirt making what's going on, or what's starting to go on between us even more clear.

"Oh grow up! It's not like there's anything we can do to change that now can we? Plus looks like you're doing just fine without him" she throws at me and from that moment I'm not pulling any punches. She wants to play dirty? Fine, let's play dirty.

"Jina stop it" Jungkook growls, going on the defensive, not being able to gauge what kind of mindset she's in or even her reasoning for coming here but wanting her out all the same.

"Grow up?" I chuckle dryly, "I guess you're right, I guess maybe I have started growing up since it seems I've matured enough to be with someone like your father. Which, last time I checked, wasn't someone you have any business in questioning on things like his sex life and who he does and does not partake in it with" I say, placing a hand on his bicep possessively and I feel the tension he had once held in his body start to melt away.

Interesting to know that I have this effect on him...

"Come on, we both know that you're probably just a piece of ass to him" she scoffs before turning to address him. "Didn't know you started picking up strays. I wondered where she had ran off to" she says, continuing to disrespect the both of us without a care in the world.

"Don't call her that!" Jungkook says, jaw clenched as a way to keep himself in check.

All I see is red though and the next words I hurl out are ones that I couldn't stop myself from saying even if I tried. The ringing in my ears fanning the flames of my agitation making it impossible to hold back.

"How's life being pregnant with my fucking ex boyfriend's baby? He's probably taking real good care of you huh?" I taunt, cocking a brow at her and from the way the color rushes to her cheeks and the words die in her throat are enough to tell me everything I need to know.

He hasn't done shit for her.

She balls her hands into fists by her side and lunges at me but Jungkook jumps in between us, grabs her by the shoulders and turns her around, forcing her out the front door.

"You're gonna throw me out and choose that slut over your own daughter?" she yells struggling to get out of his grasp the whole way.

"Last time I checked honey the only slut around these parts is you" I throw back, following right behind them and the way her jaw drops is just priceless.

"That's enough! Jina go!" Jungkook says through gritted teeth letting go of her once she's passed the thresh hold, leaving her standing there, looking between the two of us before scoffing and storming off down the driveway.

"I knew you were obsessed with her I just never thought you would bother acting on it" Jina spits out at her father and when she sees that he doesn't flinch she hurls more baseless lies and insults at the both of us.

"You know she's just using you to get a place to stay and get over her ex right? What happened to staying a virgin until you got married y/n? Huh? Guess getting cheated on really fucked you up" she spits while unlocking her car.

"And I guess fucking around with an ego-driven two-timing narcissist gets you pregnant" I throw back and she purses her lips before sinking down in her car, accepting defeat this time and leaving like her father told her to.

"Say hi to Jared for me" I call out, waving at her as she grips the steering wheel until her knuckles have gone white, putting it in drive and backing out of the driveway.

I walk over to the couch and let out a big sigh once I've sat down, throwing my head in my hands as a way to ground myself.

Breathing through this dizzy feeling from that whole confrontation that I had not been prepared for is a lot tougher than I thought it would be, my whole body still buzzing.

I hear Jungkook close the door behind him after having watched her speed down the street, still worried for her safety but also wanting to make sure she was actually gone. What happened just now was enough of a confrontation to last me a lifetime, or at least it feels that way.

"Hey" he whispers, kneeling in front of me and rubbing my back, "Are you okay?" he continues and I nod my head, feeling the tears prickling in my eyes, calling my bluff.

"Come here" he whispers, sitting on the couch next to me and pulling me onto his lap, rubbing my back again and holding me while I let out some of those tears I had held back.

"I don't even know why I crying" I say, sniffling and sitting back up to dry my eyes.

"No one likes getting into fights with someone they used to care about. Well, nobody sane likes getting into fights with someone they used to care about" he says, trying to lighten the mood and it does the trick making me scoff a bit, smiling at his efforts to make me feel better.

He cups my face and wipes a few tears that had fallen, looking at me with his brows pinched together as if his heart is breaking with mine.

"But you still care about her though, don't you?" he asks and I nod my head. "It's hard not to" I admit, getting off his lap and sitting next to him which makes him angle his body to face mine, taking hold of one of my hands, encouraging me to speak my mind.

"She's been my best friend for the past six years. That's not something that can magically be turned off for me. I know what she did to me was devastating and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for it. I'm still trying to heal from it all so I don't know, I couldn't help but defend myself, and you. I'm sorry you had to see that" I say, mumbling the last part and feeling so much regret for saying those ugly things about his daughter right in front of him.

"Everyone has a right to defend themselves and when you're being attacked like that, you can't help but say hurtful things. She had no right and she knew that and wanted to hurt the both of us anyway" he says and I take a deep breath before turning my attention back to him because she said just as many hurtful things to him as she did to me.

"Are you okay?" I question, tightening my hold on his hand to hopefully encourage him to be vulnerable with me as well.

He nods his head with a sad smile and waits a beat before saying anything and I hold my breath until he does.

"No one wants their daughter to end up in the kind of situation she put herself in or see the people that they care about hurting but what she said didn't hurt me" he says and I nod my head, paying attention to his hand that I have placed in my lap, tracing the swirls of ink with my eyes as they travel further up his arm.

"What did hurt me though was the way she was talking about you. You know that's not how I feel about you at all right?" he says, tilting my face up towards him making purposeful eye contact with me, needing to know that I believe him.

"I know" I nod, giving him a sad smile accompanied by my still glossy eyes making him even more sad seeing how upset all of this has made me.

"Can I do anything to make you feel better?" he asks, cupping my face and keeping my eyes on him when I try to turn them away. "No, I'll be okay" I shake my head and he studies my features before nodding and accepting my words at face value.

"Okay, do you wanna go back up to my room? You can sleep in there with me if you'd like" he says, brushing a tear dampened strand of hair out of my face.

I give him a mischievous smile, telling him I know what he's up to but he pulls away and puts his hands up in a way to defend his motives.

"Just sleep, I promise. Scouts honor" he says, crossing his heart and I laugh at his playfully defensive nature. "Sure" I say, taking hold of his hand while he stands up and leads me back to his bedroom.

~~~~

After having talked a little bit more about what had happened the topic of conversation circles back to what we had been in the middle of before she showed up.

"So earlier it seemed like you wanted to ask me a question" I say, taking a sip from my soda that had come with the take out we had ordered hours ago, toying with the straw and keeping his attention.

"Yeah? And do you know what your answer might be to said question?" he teases, wetting his lips and keeping his eyes trained on mine.

"You have to ask the questions first Daddy" I say placing my drink down on his nightstand and when I turn to face him again he's tackling me down on the bed peppering kisses all over me.

"Stoooppp" I giggle and he laughs along with me before leaning back to hover over me. "Will you go out with me?" he asks and I can tell that this whole moment has him feeling like a teenager again.

"I thought you'd never ask" I say, running my fingers through his hair making him lean into my touch.

"You can't take it back though. Once we do this I won't ever let you go" he husks out, placing a kiss on my palm and I shutter at the feeling. "Then don't" I breathe out making a flame of desire flash through his eyes.

"You're gonna get yourself in trouble you know that?" he warns, placing a kiss on my nose before getting off me and turning off the tv. "Hey! I was watching that!" I pout "No you weren't" he chuckles. "Plus it's time to go to bed. We've got a big day ahead of us" he says, getting under the covers and motioning for me to do the same.

"Big day?" I question, not remembering we had something on the agenda this weekend. "I may or may not have planned out our date this morning while you were still in bed Sleeping Beauty" he says, pulling me onto his chest but I sit up pulling away from him with my brows scrunched together.

"How were you so sure I would say yes?" I scoff, shocked by his bold assumption. "From the way I've been making you moan my name I figured you wouldn't mind going on one date with me in return" he says and my jaw drops, throwing the covers off myself and making a break for it but he yanks me back towards him making me flop down on the bed.

"You can't just say things like that" I whine, hands over my eyes as a way to block him out of my vision and hide the very apparent blush that I'm sure is starting to bloom.

"Am I wrong?" he taunts, placing kisses on my neck and collarbone, dangerously close to making me moan his name again.

"You're no fair" I say, pushing him off and giving him my back making him chuckle at my shy behavior. He lays down and pulls me back into him. My back now against his chest and his hand placed on my hip where I'm again reminded that I'm only wearing his shirt and my under ware.

"Keep your hands to yourself Mr." I tease while prying his hand off me. "Come on darling, you know I'm a man of my word. Just sleep, nothing else" he says, this time sliding his hand further up to hold onto my bare waist.

"Fine" I grumble out and he laughs and nuzzles his nose into my neck, taking another deep breath, flooding his senses with my scent.

"Goodnight Bunny" he mumbles against my skin. "Goodnight Daddy I tease and am rewarded with a slap on my ass.

"Did, did you just spank me?" I say trying to wiggle out of his hold but he's already got his arm wrapped around my waist again. "I told you that pretty little mouth of yours was gonna get you into trouble didn't I?" he says, switching to rubbing his hand along the tender flesh he just struck, caressing it in a way to ease the pain.

I pout and settle back into the bed, not dignifying his words with a response. It's only when I accidentally move my hips backwards do I freeze from gaining a soft moan from him, no doubt caught off guard from the contact of my ass up against him.

"Sorry I didn't mean to I-" "I know Bunny, just go to sleep" he says placing a kiss on my neck and holding my hips in place, putting a little more space between us.

As I slow my breathing to a steady one I start to lull myself to sleep but I flinch at the sound of his cute snores in my ear. 'Something I'll have to tease him about in the morning' I giggle to myself and take his hand off my hip, choosing instead to hold it against my chest having him surrounding me. Soon I'm slipping into that dreamland he had drifted off to moments before, safe and warm being in his arms.

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imaginaryf1shots · 1 month

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Good Enough | Fernando Alonso

WC: 1.7K

Fernando x GF!Reader

Summery: "I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me." + "Am I interrupting something?" "No." "Yes."

Warning: Self doubt, insecurities

Part of the 1K Celebration

Masterlist

Fernando Masterlist

This wasn't the plan, it just kind of happened, how did you get here? That's the million dollar question. You're just a normal girl, living a normal life, working a normal job in retail. But somehow, somewhere you met Fernando, and asked you out on a date, you said yes. I mean who wouldn't. You found out who he is a couple of dates in and told yourself that it wasn't a big deal. Since then you've been having this feeling that maybe it's best you end the relationship now. Yet every time you see him, you can't bring yourself to do it. You tried to do it over the phone and even that failed, just hearing him call you amor or princesa was enough for you to change your mind. For a moment. So here you are now, happy when you're with him but unhappy the moment you get a moment to think too much.

Fernando is a loving guy, he's had many relationships in his life. The feeling he got when he first saw you was different from what he's felt before. It's more intense, more consuming, more... forever? He feels like you're in an endgame and maybe the relationship is too new for him to say that but he's old enough to know what's real and what he's made up in his mind. And when Fernando loves, he really loves, he just wants to take care of you, love you and never see you sad.

So you can understand why seeing you frown as you were alone waiting for him to come back from the bathroom in the restaurant, makes his heart clench. The switch that happens when your eyes fall on him is startling. The smile looks genuine, real.

"Are you alright?" Fernando asked once he's back sitting in front of you, you raise an eyebrow in question, confused. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" You take a sip from your drink, Fernando shrugs.

"Just making sure." You take his hand and give it a squeeze, he knows you're not telling the truth but decides to just let it go for now. Maybe it's a one time thing, or he's thinking too much about it.

"- and then I told her it was not happening." You and Fernando laugh as you finish telling him a story about one of your customers. You're at his house enjoying a day in, having the complete privacy to be yourselves. Just relaxing, in your lounge clothes, the movie you had on the TV paused as you started talking mid-way through it. The doorbell rings, bringing the moment to an end.

"Must be the food." Fernando says and goes to open the door. You lean back in the sofa and sigh, feeling happy, before your thoughts take the usual turn and it begins to wonder, Fernando and you are still private, and rightfully so, your relationship is still young. But it didn't stop the dread that always creeps in when you're least expecting it, as if your relationship that barely just started is about to end, like it's inevitable. You bit your bottom lip and your brows quirk a bit.

"y/n." You look and see Fernando frowning as he looks at you.

"Yes." You answer with a smile, all your thoughts are gone right now, you're back to your happy self. Fernando was calling you for a while before you heard him, he placed the food on the coffee table. “I was calling you."

“Sorry, I was lost in thought." You said and opened the bags taking the food out, setting it down. "This smells so good."

Fernando sits next to you and stops your hands from moving, taking them in his, you look up confused. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?" Fernando asks, taking every part of you in.

"Yeah, I'm alright, super hungry though." You give him one of your smiles that melts his heart and confuses him at the same time.

Fernando finally manages to convince you to go to a race with him, it took him a long time for you to agree to let him fly you out, you'll be staying in his hotel room so no extra cost there. Just the cost for the flight had you worried. But Fernando is persistent, when he wants something he sure does everything he can to get it.

The hotel Aston Martin booked in for the week had most of the grid booked in. It was filled with drivers, wherever you turned you saw one, it was all so new to you, so you stuck with Fernando the whole time, as much as you could anyway.

It was Thursday night, you and Fernando were back from a team dinner. In the lobby he was pulled to the side by a team member, you sat on one of the comfy chairs they had placed there. Looking around at the lavish hotel, it makes you feel even worse. You're not made for this lifestyle, it was hard getting two days off to come to the race, and it'll only become harder. But how can the relationship develop more if you don't meet.

"Amor." Fernando sits next to you, you blink and look at him, seeing the look on his face, your smile that you just plastered falls.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"Yes."

"What? What's wrong? Did something happen." Your eyes are filled with worry, as you take the man you're grown attached to with attentive eyes, your heart dropped, thinking that maybe you were right after all, and that Fernando also agrees with it, and that he's about to break up with you. he too thinks that you're not good enough, that you're merely a-

"You tell me." You blink at his words confused, as he brings you out of your thoughts, did you miss something he said?

"W-What?"

"You tell me what's wrong." Fernando explains and you grow even more perplexed.

"Nando." You say dragging the 'O' a bit. "I don't understand."

"You're upset." He says simply.

"No, I'm not." You say with a bit of agitation in your voice.

"Amor, I see when you're sitting alone, you're always frowning. Something is bothering you and you've been hiding it from me." Fernando says and it dawns on you, he's talking about all the times you got lost in thought. Guilt starts eating at you, here he is caring about you and you're thinking about him leaving you. Maybe you should leave him, you're already causing trouble and it's not even a year yet. "y/n, please, just talk to me."

"I'm sorry." Your voice sounds so small even to your ears, tears gather in your eyes, Fernando sighs and pulls on your hands, wanting to bring you close.

"I don't want you to apologise, I just want to know what's wrong, so I can help you." Fernando whispers and you open your mouth ready to say that nothing is wrong. "Don't just say what you think I want to hear, tell me the truth, what you're really feeling."

"Nando." You mumble his tone and look up at him, your shoulders sagging, your lips quiver, Fernando cups your face, his hand providing you with comfort that you desperately needed right now.

"Come on." He pulls you up, and looks around before he pulls you into the emergency stairwell, where you'll have more privacy. "Now please just tell me."

"I uh, I just, I don't." You try to say but the words aren't coming out, Fernando gives your hand a squeeze, taking a deep breath you say. "I just feel like maybe you're better off with someone else, like maybe- no, I know I'm not good enough for you, that you'll get bored of me easily, I haven't lived the life you did, haven't done half of what you've done, I've barely been out of the country. It all scares me."

"Why does it scare you?" Fernando lets you say what you want then he'll circle back and talk you through all your thoughts.

"I'm scared because I like you, and I'm getting more attached to you, and when you leave me I'll be alone." You mumble your eyes not meeting his as you expose your inner thoughts to him, the thoughts that have been plaguing your thoughts for so long.

"And believe me when I say, I'm also very attached to you." Fernando says pointedly, he hates the thought of you doubting him, doubting this relationship. It kills him inside, he thought you had a good thing going on. "I find you incredibly smart, sweet, the kindest person I have ever met and unbelievably attractive."

"But-"

"I'm not done yet." Fernando says and puts a finger on your lips to stop you from talking. "Have I done anything that would make you believe I don't care about you?" You shake your head no. "Have I said anything?" Again no. "Okay so that means I feel like we're a good fit, y/n, amor, please believe me when I say I don't care, I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me... do you?"

"What?" Your eyes are wide as you stare at Fernando, you've moved closer, when? You don't know. You're both standing chest to chest, only a small space between the two of you.

"Do you love me? Like I love you." Your eyes welled up and you nod.

"Yes, I love you so much Fernando, so much." You say and Fernando smiles before he leans in and presses his lips to yours. You gasp which gives him access to your mouth, you moan lightly and wrap your arms around his neck. Just as you were getting more into it the door opened and you both pulled away, if it wasn't obvious what was going on the blush on your face is a clear indication.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" A smirking Lewis says.

"No." "Yes." You and Fernando say at the same time, you look at each other before you look back at the Mercedes driver.

"Well, since this one is occupied I'll go find another one." Lewis says and it's only then that you notice he has a woman with him, he sends you both one last knowing and smug look before he leaves.

"That was... something." You say and run your hand through your hair, trying to gather yourself.

"It was, don't bother with your hair, it'll only get wilder." Fernando said and pulled you out of the stairwell and to the elevator, his hands were all over you. By the time you reach your room, you're a giggling, hot mess.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso one shot #fernando #fa14 fanfic #fa14 #fa14 x reader #fa14 imagine #fa14 fic

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headkiss · 2 years

Text

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

༄

You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“‘S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

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dracowars · 2 months

Note

I know u hv a lot to do but could u do a draco x yn potter but lily n james r still alive??

part of the family | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x potter!reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where draco meets y/n parents, james and lily, for the first time

a/n: my first os since forever!! this came in when my draco requests were still open and i loved the idea, i'm a sucker for draco x potter!reader. i'm truly sorry for taking ages, i hope you enjoy either way <3

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

If anyone had told Draco in first year that he would be sitting at a dinner table with no other than Harry Potter himself, he would have laughed at them and asked what potion they took. But that was before he met you. Because Draco does still laugh now, but for a completely different reason: he is happy to be sitting here, next to you, in the home of the Potter family.

Your father is just telling one of his iconic stories from his time at Hogwarts, about how he and his best friends once roamed the huge halls of the castle, and the overall atmosphere in the room is so far away from what Draco usually associates with family dinners.

No tension, no awkward silence, no fear of saying or doing the wrong thing at any given moment. An hour ago, Draco would have believed that it couldn't be any other way. The second he crossed the threshold into your family's house, however, he was convinced of the opposite.

James and Lily are the kindest people Draco has ever met. They welcomed him with open arms straight away, even though they didn't even know him - expect from what is general knowledge in the wizarding world about him and specifically his family of course. And maybe from the stories Harry told them, when Draco and Harry were still very far from ever sitting anywhere near each other. But over time, many things have changed and you played a big role in improving their difficult relationship.

At first, you couldn't believe that the boy who usually treated your brother like shit had suddenly turned into a completely different person in your presence. But he did and it didn't take long until stronger feelings developed. Harry certainly couldn't believe it but here you are, eating your mum's homemade food, chatting and laughing away.

"Tell me, Draco. Have you mastered the Patronus Charm yet? Y/N told us that you tried it in Defence against the Dark Arts recently. Should have happened way earlier in my opinion, but oh well", James asks your boyfriend, a smile on his lips and genuine interest evident on his face. Draco's parents wouldn't even think of asking something like that.

"Not quite. I mean I managed it, but unfortunately it hasn't taken on a shape yet", Draco replies kindly, but doesn't maintain eye contact with James as he's too uncomfortable. You know that such an answer would probably be punished by his parents if he ever were to say it aloud in front of them, which is why you reach for his hand under the table. On his thigh, you intertwine his fingers with yours, the silver sigil ring cold against your skin. Looking at him from the side, you squeeze his hand and softly smile.

"Oh, don't worry about it, sweetheart! You'll get to it", your mother cheers him up, smiling between the two of you and you just know she saw your intertwined hands and loving gaze. You also know that Draco did not expect such a kind reaction and even though he visibly relaxes, he doesn't know what to answer.

The topic of the conversation changes and your dad can't help himself but to ask Draco all about his Quidditch tactics. Obviously, he can't tell him a lot about it since Harry is sitting right next to him, but seeing the three most important men in your life talk so passionately about something they love makes your heart jump. They keep on chatting over dinner and when it's time to clear the table, they don't even notice your mother and you collecting all the plates, too focused on their conversation.

You smile to yourself, following your mum into the kitchen where you put the dirty dishes into the sink and let the water run over them. Immediately, you notice her staring at you with a soft smile on her lips.

"What?", you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"Nothing. It's just..", she says, stopping herself as if to think how to best phrase her next words. "You two remind me a lot of your dad and I when we were younger."

"Really?"

"Yes. The banter, the loving gazes, the not keeping your hands off each other", she giggles, drying the dishes you hand her with a towel. "From what I have seen so far, I feel like you're truly meant for each other. It seems like you compensate the weakness of the other."

"Mum, stop it", you chuckle, feeling the blush creep onto your cheeks but you know that she is right. She always is. And you truly feel like you can be yourself when Draco is around so you are glad that she genuinely accepts him.

"Don't tell your brother or your dad that I said that though", she then laughs, both of you knowing that the Potter men can be really protective. The moment Draco enters the kitchen, you stifle your laughter.

"Can I help you with something, Mrs. Potter?", he asks your mum politely and the knowing smile on your mother's face is so obvious you want to sink into the ground.

"Draco, how often do I need to tell you that you can call me Lily-"

"We're almost done, but thank you so much for offering. We'll be right back", you answer and Draco nods, leaving again.

"He is so sweet! What a gentleman!", your mum almost squeaks but lowers her voice so he can't hear her anymore. All you can hear as an immediate response to your mother's comment is a snort, coming from Harry who just entered the kitchen with two glasses, putting them into the sink.

"You're just jealous because you don't have a girlfriend", you mock him while your mum tries to hide her giggle.

"You had all the guys of Hogwarts at your disposal and you seriously went for Draco Malfoy", is all Harry says before leaving again, but deep down you know that if they truly hated each other the way they always pretend they do, they would not be sitting at a table together and they would definitely not be talking about Quidditch.

"He'll come around, don't worry", your mum tells you, stroking over your shoulder as she finishes drying off the last glass. Once all the dishes are back where they belong, you go back to the dining room, happy to see that they are still chatting away.

When Draco meets your gaze, he reaches for your hand and helps you sit down on your seat again. From the corner of your eye you see your parents looking at each other, understanding the other without a word and you can't stop thinking about what your mum just told you about their own young love back then.

"I hope we will do this more often from now on", your dad says, smiling. "And I do not accept a no because you, Draco, are part of the family now."

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c-cobweb · 2 months

Text

ultraviolence

| “‘cause im your jazz singer, and you're my cult leader. i love you forever, i love you forever” | — lana del rey.

warnings: +18 mdni!, smut, oral (m receiving), dom! kai, submision, brainwashing, daddy k!nk? (only once).

a/n: english is not my first lenguage! and requests are open ♡.

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Kai was smoking, sitting in the armchair in the basement of his house with his legs open and you kneeling in the middle of them.

How did you get to this situation? You didn’t know it well.

It all started when Kai first entered the bar where you sang jazz on Thursday nights, after your performance that day he approached you praising your angelic voice and offering you a drink. The following Thursdays were the same, with Kai camelling you with his sweet words and his beautiful smile.

But that wasn’t the Kai that was now in front of you.

You didn’t know how but the blue haired boy had dragged you into his twisted sect, brainwashing you and making you his sexual slave. And that’s why you were like this now, wanting to please him.

He unbuttoned his pants and left the rest of the work to you, so you took his cock out of his pants and stroked it from top to bottom, wrapping your hand in it while you looked into his eyes biting your lower lip.

He let out a growl and threw his head back due to pleasure, releasing the smoke he had been containing in his lungs. When you saw his reaction you took your tongue out of your mouth and began to give kitten licks to the head of his penis, knowing that that drove him crazy.

“Stop teasing” Kai demanded with a hoarse and dominant voice, to which you obeyed without thinking and began to put his cock in your oral cavity everything your throat allowed you.

You were going little by little, putting his member in your mouth until Kai got fed up and with the hand that did not hold the cigarette he grabbed you by the head and pushed until the head of his penis hit your uvula, to which you gagged due to the brutality of his actions.

He began to fuck your mouth with brutality, grabbing your head with both hands while his cigarette hung between his lips. When you saw that Kai was so focussed, you took the opportunity to lower your hand down your torso until you reached the waist of your panties, and put your hand inside and begin to delicately caress your cult.

Kai soon realised what you were doing, so he quickly grabbed your hair and stretched it tightly to separate you from his cock. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked with a frown. “Did I give you permission to touch you?”

You swallowed with difficulty, the last thing you wanted was to make him angry. “No, I’m sorry” You answered nervously while looking at him with begging eyes so that he didn’t do anything to you. “No what?” He spoke again, looking back at you with intensity. “No, sir” You answered with a choppy voice.

He nodded and let go of your hair, putting his fingers between your strands and licking his lips. “Okay, now be a good girl and make me cum” He said and you immediately put his member back in your mouth, this time with both hands on his thighs.

Kai fucked your mouth again with all the strength he had. You closed your eyes tightly by repressing gagging. He growled and let out guttural moans from time to time, the cigarette on his lips that was now completely consumed fell on the sofa, but the last thing he cared about was that.

It wasn’t long before you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, a clear sign that he was going to come soon. To help him, you raised one of your hands to caress the rest of his cock that did not fit in your mouth and you began to move your head from top to bottom, following the movements of his hips.

“Fuck, yeah. I’m gonna cum, baby” He warned you, but instead of walking away you just tried harder to put more of his member in your mouth and turn your tongue around his shaft, definitely throwing him to the edge.

“Oh my god, yeah” He groaned as you felt thick strips of sperm coming down your throat. “Good girl, good fucking girl” Kai praised you with agitated breathing as he lowered his arms to both sides of his body.

When you felt his cock soften, you took it out of your mouth and cleaned the corner of your lips with the sleeve of your sweater. You climbed until you were sitting on Kai’s lap and curled up against his chest, he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you close to him. “Did I do well?” You asked while hiding your face in his neck.

“Of course, you always do it well for me,” he replied with a soft laugh. “Now get up, daddy has to continue with his work” He said patting your ass so you can move. You sat on the couch with your knees glued to your chest while you watched Kai dress in his usual clothes to commit murders.

It was usual to leave you trembling and then go to kill people.

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#american horror story #evan peters #ahs #evan peters smut #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x you #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #cult

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badwer · 3 months

Text

You woke up. Eyes slowly taking in the dim light coming from the window. The room became clearer at every blink of the eye, regaining conscience little by little.

You lingered in your sleeping position a bit longer before starting the day. As you took a deep breath to stretch your body out, you acknowledged the presence of an arm resting on your waist. A familiar hand on your belly blocked you from moving any further. Your heart started pounding in your ears and panic took over you. It’d been four days of sleeping alone in the bed you shared with Joel and it’d been four days since he decided to disappear. You turned your head to the side and met Joel’s eyes observing you. You were so struck by the vision that you thought you were still dreaming. But as soon as realisation hit you, you felt an involuntary scowl grow on your face. You quickly got up and run to the door without saying a thing. You were mad at him for leaving just after telling him you were expecting his child.

Despite rushing to the door, he was faster than you and swiftly reached you in no time. He held your wrist tight and blocked you from turning the door handle. His body, now towering on yours, kept you from escaping from the confrontation he probably wanted. Joel’s sudden behaviour after being long gone made your blood boil even more to the point you couldn’t even look at him in the face anymore. So you stood there, giving him your back, stuck between the closed door and him.

“My love…” you hear him whisper to your ear.

“You are such an asshole, Joel...” you interrupted any kind of excuse he could come up with. “…why did you even come back, huh? You could have disappeared forever, it would have made much more sense and it would have spared me more pain…” you continued, determined to let out all the pent-up things you wanted to say to him in the past days spent alone in your home.

Silence was his response. Tears began to fill in your waterline until you couldn’t see properly. A sigh came out of him, followed by the touch of his forehead on the back of your right shoulder. It took a minute, probably to gather the calm with which Joel usually faced arguments, but eventually he spoke.

“I’m sorry. For all of it” his apologies hurt you even more because you wanted to believe his words, but you couldn’t.

“That’s it? Joel, I thought you weren’t coming back ever again. I thought I lost you and I blamed myself for it…” as words spilled from your mouth, you felt his hand loosen his grip on your wrist and slowly glide over your skin.

“…I was even willing to-“ then you stopped. You realised that what you were about to tell him sounded heavier now that you put it into words than when it was just a thought in your head.

“What?”

Tension filled the room. Suddenly a lump formed in your throat and kept you from answering.

“What were you saying?…baby, answer me…”

You finally turned to face him. A mixture of fear and concern could be read in his expression. Your breath became quicker, your palms sweaty.

You have always been scared of bringing her up, bringing Sarah up. Every time the conversation seemed to shift towards her late daughter panic assaulted you and you tried your very best to avoid the subject, not really knowing how Joel could take it. That type of wound could never heal and it broke your heart to think that he was still grieving, deep down his tough skin.

“Joel-…I know you are still hurt from your past, with Sarah and…” voice came out unsteady. Tears rolled down your cheeks and the fear of his reaction grew somewhere in your stomach. You felt sick for a moment and took a deep breath, but eventually you built up the courage to continue. “…I thought I could interrupt the pregnancy to spare you any more trauma.” It costed you so much to say it because you knew this was not what you really wanted. You were younger than him and this would have been your first child. However, the sole thought of doing it all alone kept you up at night.

Your gaze dropped to the floor, so afraid and ashamed of what you’d said. You were sure time had stopped for a moment because nothing happened for a good minute. Not a move, not a sound. Suddenly, his hand reached yours and he guided you to the bed where he sat down at its rim. He silently looked up at you, still holding your hand and you waited for him to say something. With a sigh he started.

“When I was told we were expecting Sarah I was just as afraid. The only difference between then and now is that I was way younger and inexperienced and that was why I was afraid. When-“ he cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, straightening his back.

“When I lost Sarah, I lost my hope as well. I had dedicated most of my life to raising her, to being her dad and after she died I felt useless. I felt like I had achieved nothing…”

“I am scared now and that’s why I was gone for a while. But this time something is different. I’m way older and I know what to expect. And I want that, I want to be a dad again. That’s the part that I miss everyday. I have thought about this in the last four days and I’m sorry if it was so sudden, I’m an idiot for that. It really caught me off guard. But I needed some time to think.”

You felt relieved hearing those words. He finally opened up with you about this part of him for the first time. But you were even happier to hear him say that he wanted to be the father of the baby you carried inside.

He left you speechless. You let silence fill the room as you looked down at him not really knowing what to say. All you did was let your tears free to stream your face.

Joel brought both of your hands to his mouth and softly kissed them. His hot breath on your skin sent shivers down your body. Then he hugged your body, head laying on your stomach as your arms clung to each other. You let a hand roam through his hair as butterflies filled your guts. Then you let your body fall into his lap, curling up in his big arms and breathing in his familiar heady scent you missed so painfully. His lips kissed the crook of your neck as you fingers stroked the hair at the nape of his.

“Don’t ever do that again…leave me…” you whispered in his ear, head resting on his shoulder.

His head turned to the side and kissed your cheek. You felt his fingers on your chin, guiding your face on him. He then locked his eyes into yours and said “I promise”.

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female oc #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #joel miller one shot

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

Family

This story may contain themes that could be triggering.

Summary: When you save the life of the son of the Scarlett Witch and the Black Widow, your life is changed forever. For the first time in a long time you are given a family.

Warning: domestic violence, age difference relationship, rape, gun violence, injuries, miscarriage, manipulation, mention of suicide, DNI unless 18+

Word count: 5.6k

Sometimes you just acted. You didn’t think you just did. So when you were walking on your way to work you saw a young boy run out into the middle of the road, chasing after a ball and the car coming right for him wasn’t stopping, you acted. “Tommy,” You heard a woman yell. You ran to the boy, picking him up in your arms and changing your molecular makeup. The car passed through you and him You brought him back to the sidewalk and as soon as you set him down he became solid.

“Are you okay?” You asked. His eyes grew wide as he stared at you.

“Tommy,” you moved out of the way as a woman with auburn hair pulled him into a hug. “What did I say about not leaving the sidewalk?” You assumed the woman was his mother.

“Sorry Mom,” he said. “I dropped the toy Uncle Tony got me.” A redhead and another young boy joined the duo. You recognized the redhead right away. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow.

“Are you okay, kid?” She asked Tommy. He nodded and hugged the redhead. You looked at the other woman and you were staring into the green eyes of Wanda Maximoff.

“Thank you,” she said to you. “I don’t think we could ever repay you.” You blushed at the compliment, scratching the back of your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “I was at the right place at the right time.” You knelt in front of the two boys. “Now don’t go playing in the road anymore, okay?” You ruffled their hair. “I won’t be there to save you.” Tommy smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. You smiled, straightening up.

“Wait,” Natasha said, stopping you before you walked away. “At least tell us your name.” You introduced yourself.

“Bye,” you waved, continuing on your way to work.

“You're famous!” Your co-worker, Emilia, said as soon as you walked into the back room. You clocked in and put on your apron. You worked at a 24hr diner. It paid decently and the hours were flexible so you could still go to school.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. She rushed over to you, her phone open to Twitter. Someone took a video of you saving Tommy and put it on social media. Needless to say, the video blew up. You groaned, placing your face in your hands.

“You should read some of these comments,” Emilia said, scrolling through her phone. “I could break a lot of people’s hearts and tell them your 16.”

“Gross,” you mumbled, walking into the kitchen. You heard Emilia close behind as you made yourself a coffee.

“How does it feel saving the kid of the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch?” You didn’t answer. “Were they hot?”

“You know I wasn’t looking,” you said, blowing on the cup before taking a much-needed sip. “I was a little focused on not making sure their son didn’t get killed.” You rolled your eyes.

“I bet they have a Mommy and Daddy kink,” you scrunch your nose.

“You are just as bad as half the people online,” you said. “Come on, we have work to do.” You tried to focus on your duties at the diner; cleaning tables, taking orders, and helping in the kitchen when needed, instead of what happened today. But the universe had other plans. Someone online found where you worked and shared it with the entire world. The diner was packed which was a blessing and a curse. The day flew by and you were leaving with a lot of tips in your pocket. However, you were exhausted since everyone that stepped through the diner wanted to meet and talk to you. They asked you questions about your powers, if you received something for saving him, were your parents proud, did they offer you a spot on the Avenger team. By the end of the day, you collapsed onto your bed thankfully you had the day off tomorrow.

It wasn’t as busy when you came in but you immediately saw the Romanoff-Maximoff family with 2 Avengers you didn’t recognize. You smiled as you walked up to the table. “Staying out of trouble?” You asked the boys. They gasped, turning around in their chairs.

“I don’t know you worked here,” Tommy said, standing up to hug you. You were surprised by that. But you gave him a quick hug back.

“That’s probably because I didn’t tell you,” you tapped his nose which caused him to scrunch it. Natasha introduced you to her sister, Yelena, and her girlfriend, Kate.

“You're the one that saved my nephew,” Yelena said. Her deep Russian accent surprised you. You nodded. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Thank you?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like a question. Wanda chuckled. “Anyways, can I get you guys started with drinks?” You didn’t mean to hover around their table and it wasn’t 100% your fault. Tommy and his brother, Billy, liked to talk your ear off no matter how many times Wanda told them you had other tables to attend to. But you waved her off, saying it was fine. Besides, their colorful imagination was making your shift fly by.

Until the bell went off signaling another customer entered the diner. You looked up out of instinct and almost dropped Kate’s pancakes. It was Jason, your on-again-off-again boyfriend, and housemate. He held the door open for an older couple as his eyes looked for you. It wasn’t hard to find you but you didn’t like the way his eyes screamed that he was upset with you. When he came in he liked you to only have him as your only table. He was best friends with the owner so he could get away with anything. Natasha said your name and you were surprised to see real concern in her green eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you put on your best customer service smile but she didn’t seem convinced. “Does everything look good?” A chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘looks good’ echoed from the table. “Perfect! I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything. Enjoy!” You brought back the empty tray to the kitchen before making your way to Jason’s usual spot, trying to calm your raising heartbeat.

It didn’t take a Black Widow spy or an Avenger to notice the change in your demeanor. Natasha watched as you walked over to a man, who had to be twice your age. You were blocking his face but Natasha didn’t like the way he was talking to you. She couldn’t hear the conversation but your shoulders were hunched over, drawing more into yourself. ‘Don’t cause a scene,’ Wanda said, placing a hand on her leg. ‘I don’t like it either.’ Natasha began to eat. The food was always good here but now it tasted bitter.

‘What do we do?’ The Black Widow asked. It took a minute for Wanda to reply as you came back to ask how the food was and if they needed anything. Yelena asked for more hot sauce. You were smiling, laughing at a joke Tommy said but it wasn’t as light. Natasha stole a glance at the man and he was staring at you as if he owned you like you were a possession. It made Natasha’s blood boil. He caught her eyes and quickly looked away.

‘We’ll leave her our number,’ Wanda said. ‘If she needs help she can call us.’ Natasha didn’t like it. She wanted to do more but what else could they do when they had no idea what was going on?

“Here you go,” Natasha passed you the check. “Food and service were amazing as always,” you felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

“Feel free to relax here there is no need to rush out but it was nice seeing you all again,” you said your goodbyes, not leaving the table without getting a hug from the twins. You went to finish cashing them out and you stopped in your tracks. Not because of the very large tip they left you but there was a note.

‘We are a phone call away if you need anything and I mean anything. -Natasha. Her phone number was at the end. You put that copy in your pocket and continued as you normally would, ignoring Jason’s eyes burning a hole in your back.

“You disgust me,” Jason said, throwing you against the wall. You whimpered as you hit your head. Stars formed across your vision. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me.”

“Baby,” you pleaded with him. “It wasn’t like that.” He twisted his hand in your hair, pulling you close.

“Flirting with a married woman twice your age,” he pulled your hair. Another whimper left your lips. “You are a slut.” He threw you against the wooden table. It broke underneath your weight and the force he threw you. “You think you're a big-time hero, now. That you're better than all of us.” You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. He kicked you in the stomach so hard you were pushed against the couch.

“Jason, stop, please,” you pleaded with him grabbing onto his leg.

“You don’t get to tell me to stop,” he yelled. “You are mine. I own you.”

You woke up in the apartment alone and with your pants off. Everything ached and there was a light pounding in your skull. Jason was no doubt at a bar. You needed to get out of here. Finding your pants was easy but a sharp cramp in your stomach made you crumble to the ground. Finding some strength, you redressed yourself, found your phone, and walked out of the apartment. You weren’t sure where you were walking to. Your feet moved as your mind was in a haze. There was no place you could go. You were an only child whose parents died during the Blip. The friends you did have moved out of the city or were your co-workers from the dinner but you didn’t want them to see you like this. You sat down on a nearby bench. The pain was becoming all-consuming. You needed help. You unlocked your phone and stared at the recent contact added - Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, an Avenger. Did you want to drag them into this mess? Another shooting pain passed through your stomach as you listened to the phone ring. Maybe she wouldn’t answer and you would have to find a place to sleep tonight. “Hello? Who is this?” She answered on the third ring.

“N-Natasha,” you stuttered out.

“Y/n? Is that you?” You nodded, knowing well she couldn’t see you. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help,” you cried. “I-I d-don’t have anyone else to call. I’m sorry. I-” Your lungs began to hurt, you couldn’t get enough air.

“Hey, sh dorogoy,” Natasha whispered. “Where are you? Wanda and I will come to get you.” You heard rustling on her side of the phone.

“I don’t know,” you told her. “I left my apartment and just walked.” A sharp pain ran through you and gasped. “Everything hurts, Nat,” you cried.

“We will be right there, okay? Just stay right there and use your powers to keep yourself safe.” She told you. “I’m going to stay on the phone with you.”

“Okay,” your voice was slurred. “I’m sleepy.” You found yourself laying down on the bench.

“I know you are but you have to stay awake for me. Can you do that?” She asked. “Talk to me. Tell me about yourself.” You hummed.

“I’m an only child. My parents are dead and I have a tattoo on my spine. I-”

Natasha was listening as she paced her kitchen waiting for FRIDAY to trace the call. She heard three sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, one set much quicker than the other two. “Anything?” Wanda asked. The Black Widow shook her head.

“FRIDAY is still looking for her,” she heard Yelena yawn behind Wanda.

“Why did you wake us up?” Her sister asked.

“You can go back to bed but we need to watch the boys if they wake up,” Wanda explained.

“Is this about the girl who saved Tommy?” Kate asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Natasha nodded.

“I found her,” the AI said. “The location has been sent to your car’s GPS. She is 30 minutes.”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha said to you. “We will be there in 30 minutes.” You hummed.

“Nat,” Yelena said. The redhead looked back at her sister. “Keep us updated.” She nodded and followed her wife to the car. Wanda was already in the driver's seat. It was Natasha’s idea to get their place, close enough to the new Avenger tower but in a nice neighborhood for the twins to grow up in. The only thing Wanda wanted was a big kitchen, the rest was up to the Black Widow. Buying a house cemented the fact this was real to Natasha. She was married, raising two brilliant boys, and retired from active missions. Wanda grabbed her hand, squeezing it. She squeezed it back. She hoped they made it to you in time.

Natasha saw your still body laying on the bench and she was out of the car before Wanda could put the car in park. She hung up and ran over to you, kneeling next to you. “Hey sweetie,” she whispered. Wanda moved next to her. Your eyes fluttered open. A smile on your face.

“You came,” you whispered. Natasha’s heart shattered.

“Yeah, we did,” Wanda smiled. “Let’s get you someplace safe.” You nodded, sitting up and Natasha watched you try to hide the wince. “Can you stand?” You nodded again but when you stood up you collapsed, a pained cry leaving your lips. Natasha caught you in her arms.

“I got you,” your head fell on her shoulder, whimpering as you squeezed your eyes closed. Natasha didn’t miss the red flash in Wanda’s eyes. She only imagined what was going on inside your head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “So sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize,” the Black Widow said. “I’m going to lift you, okay?” She felt you nod against her skin. She was surprised at how light you were in her arms.

“Nat,” Wanda whispered as they walked back to the car. The witch opened the backseat and the redhead gently lay you down. She closed the door. “She’s bleeding.” Natasha looked at her hands and they were tainted red with your blood.

“We’ll bring her to the tower,” Natasha ran to the other side of the car and got in next to you. She shifted so your head could rest in her lap.

“FRIDAY,” Wanda said to the AI. “Inform Cho we are headed to the tower with a civilian that needs immediate medical attention.” You whimpered.

“You're going to be okay,” the Black Widow whispered. You shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha watched your eyes flutter close, frowning. You kept muttering apologies as you succumbed to the darkness.

It took a lot for Natasha to let go of you to hand over to Helen and the medical team. She quickly went to the hallway bathroom to wash the blood off. The water turned a light pink. It was part of her job to be surrounded by blood but the sight of your blood on her hands caused her body to heat up with anger. She left the bathroom and found her wife sitting in the empty chairs in the hallway. “The boys are still asleep,” she said as the redhead sat down. “Yelena said she’ll get them ready for school so we can stay.” Natasha nodded, resting her head on the wall. She felt Wanda move her fingers through hers. “It had to be the man from the diner, right?”

“Maybe,” she whispered. They knew nothing about you. The internet seemed to be in love with you for saving Tommy but they didn’t know who you were or what you were a part of.

“I’ll kill him,” Wanda threatened. Natasha saw the tips of her fingers glow red.

“Easy little witch,” She mumbled, kissing the side of her head. “Let’s find out what happened first.” The glow died down. It felt like an eternity before Helen walked out of your room and towards the couple. “Is she okay?” Natasha asked, standing up.

“She will be,” Helen said. “She has 2 broken ribs, a possible concussion, and wood splinters that we had to remove from her arm. She was raped too we did a test,” she sighed, resting her hand on her chin. “Do you know how old she is?” The couple looked at each other shaking their heads. You were a few years older than the twins but not at Kate’s age. That meant you were between 14-18.

“Helen, what’s going on?” The doctor bit her lip.

“She was pregnant,” Natasha’s blood ran cold. “Whatever happened to her caused her to miscarriage.”

“How-how far along was she?” Wanda asked.

“I’m guessing 2 months,” Helen answered. “She’s asleep now. You can go see her and let me know if she needs anything.” They said their thank yous to the doctor and ventured into your room. It was quiet besides the gentle beeping of the heart monitor you were attached to. Natasha didn’t like how still you were beside the gentle rise and fall of your chest. They sat on either side of the bed.

“She’s just a kid, Tash,” Wanda said, brushing some hair out of your face. You didn’t move.

“I know, baby,” Natasha remembered you telling her that your parents were dead. Did you have anyone else? “We’ll be here for her.”

You woke up slowly. The bright lights overhead caused you to groan. “Sweetheart,” you turned your head towards Natasha’s voice. There was a smile on her face, almost motherly. “Hi, how are you feeling?”

“Water,” you whispered. Your throat felt raw and uncomfortable. Natasha brought a cup of water to your lips. You drank all of the water finding relief. “Thank you,” she put the cup down.

“Of course,” you sat up, wincing as you moved but you couldn’t look at Natasha.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you saw her nod her head out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s fine,” she said. “But there are some things we need to talk about regarding your health. We can wait for Wanda if you want,” you nodded.“Hey,” you felt her fingers on your arm. “We are here for you, okay? And whatever happened is not your fault.”

“Okay,” you whispered but you didn’t believe her. It wasn’t long before Wanda returned with a doctor behind her. She introduced herself as Helen and she went over the list of your injuries; broken ribs, a mild concussion, and wood splinters in your arms.

“Now, I have to tell you something that may be hard to hear,” you didn’t like her tone. “You were pregnant for about 2 months but due to the nature of your injuries you had a miscarriage.” You felt the color drain from your face. Pregnant. You were pregnant. You moved your hand over your stomach. Your periods were always irregular so nothing seemed wrong. You weren’t sure what was happening around you. The world around you turned to white noise. You were pregnant, probably with Jason’s child but you made him angry.

“Sweetheart,” you snapped to look at Wanda. She looked worried. “You're safe here. Do you know who the father was?” She asked. You hesitated but nodded. You weren’t 100% sure if it was Jason’s.

“Was he the one that did this to you?” Natasha hesitantly asked.

“It was my fault,” you defended him. “He loves me. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” Wanda whispered your name but you couldn’t look at her. Tears were blurring your vision.

“This isn’t love.”

“Yes it is,” you said. “He loves me and it was my fault -”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha touched your arm but you flinched from her. Her face fell.

“I think I want to be alone,” you told them. The couple glanced at each other, having a silent conversation. “Please.”

“Okay, we know this is a lot,” Wanda said, standing up. “We’ll come back later.” You didn’t acknowledge them as they left your room. You felt cold, so immensely cold, as your fingers danced around your stomach and each injury he gave you. Oh, how you wished your mom and dad were here. You missed your mom’s hugs and the scent that always seemed to calm you down or your dad’s corny jokes that brought a smile to your face. You angrily whipped the tears that fell. The worst part of them being gone, you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

To your surprise, Wanda and Natasha kept their promise and visited when they could. Their visits ended up being one-sided conversations - mostly them trying to get information on what happened. They asked for your age, Jason’s name and age, and if he worked at the diner. But you remained quiet. Too ashamed to tell them the truth about him. They weren’t deterred by your stand-offish behavior, it somehow made them more determined to make you feel comfortable around them. Rather it was Wanda, Natasha, or both of them, they brought you something. A blanket to keep you warm, books and magazines for you to read, and Tommy’s old DS to keep you entertained. They even contacted your school to explain your situation and collect your missing schoolwork.

It was odd, you had to admit, having people care about you. It didn’t make sense. What did you do to deserve their kindness? You were nobody compared to them. So why were they being so nice?

On a sunny afternoon, the couple snuck in a milkshake and french fries for you to snack on. You were sipping on the chocolate milkshake while Wanda was reading and Natasha looked over a mission report. “I’m 16,” you said to them, breaking the silence. “Technically speaking I was a part of the population that was blipped so I don’t know how that affects my age,” you put your drink down. “During those 5 years, my parents died; my mom from cancer and my dad from suicide. Jason gave me a place to live and food and loved me when I was alone.”

“How old were you when you met Jason?” Natasha asked.

“15,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “He was 25.” You began to play with the loose threads of the blanket they brought you.

“Is this the first time he’s hit you?” Your instinct was to lie like you did with Emilia and everyone else at the diner but it seemed like it was a bad idea to lie to two Avengers.

“No,” you whispered. “But this was the worst. He was mad at me and kept saying it was my fault.”

“What did he say that you did?” You felt your face burn as you remembered why he was upset. “You don’t have to tell us,” Natasha added quickly.

“He was..” Protective. Jealous. “Territorial,” you said. “He didn’t like me talking or flirting with other people. That was a lot of our fights and I stayed because I have nowhere else to go,” you sighed. “I bet you think I’m so stupid.”

“No,” Wanda took your hand in hers. “You are not stupid. He took advantage of you,” you whipped away the tears that fell with your free hand. “You are not alone. We are here.”

“And we aren’t going anywhere.”

When Helen cleared you Natasha and Wanda offered you a room with them. It took a lot of convincing but you moved in with them. Jason all but disappeared. He wasn’t there when you got the few possessions from the apartment and you overheard Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen one night that they still couldn’t find him. As you lived in the Romanoff-Maximoff household you all forgot about him. You forgot what this type of love felt like not having it since you were taken from your family. Wanda made sure all of your homework was done by the time dinner was ready. Natasha seemed to have food on her and she would pass you snacks. She even got you to join her on some of your runs.

It had been 4 months since you moved in with them. “Do you want us to see if Yelena or Kate can come over?” Wanda asked. The twins were playing video games in the living room and you were making a small snack for you and the boys. The couple had to go to the tower for a quick meeting. Although they were retired from active meetings they still help to provide insight. They didn’t like leaving you at home.

“We’ll be fine,” Tommy said.

“Besides Y/n is here,” Billy added. You rolled your eyes as Natasha walked over to you, stealing a grape from the plate. You glared at her.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” She asked you. You nodded.

“Yes, you said it will be a quick meeting,” you put the extra fruit back in the fridge. “And when you get back you can bitch about how the meeting should have been an email.” Natasha gasped.

“Language,” you smiled, bringing the fruit plate into the living room.

“We know the rules. Don’t worry about us,” you sat on the couch, your feet tucked underneath you, and opened the book you were currently reading.

“Text us if anything happens,” Wanda kissed the twins’ forehead and you were surprised as she kissed yours.

“Bye Mom,” the boys said. You smiled as they left the house. As the door closed Tommy let out a heavy sigh.

“They worry so much.” He said.

“They just care about you,” you defended, not looking up from your book.

“They care about you too,” Billy said. You glanced at the boy and he was looking at you with a smile. You smiled back and went back to reading.

You weren’t sure how long it was but Natasha and Wanda were still not home when the doorbell rang. You looked at the twins but they were engrossed with their video game. “Hey, are your moms expecting someone?” Billy shrugged.

“No clue,” the doorbell rang again. You sighed, closing your book. As you stood up a voice behind the door caused you to freeze.

“I know you're in there, little shadow. Come out to play.”

“Billy, Tommy, go upstairs and call your moms.” Jason started to giggle at the door handle.

“We can help,” Tommy said. They were training powers but they were still unpredictable.

“Go!” You ordered as the front door burst open. Tommy grabbed Billy’s hand and used his super speed to bring them both upstairs. Jason stood there, a pistol in his hand and he looked like he hadn’t bathed or slept in months. You just had to keep him away from the twins and wait till Wanda and Natasha got here.

“Hello beautiful,” he stalked over to you. “You got me in a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble?” You questioned, taking a few steps back with your hands in the air. You wanted to keep some distance from him. “Who are you in trouble with?” He laughed, pointing the gun at you.

“My employers,” his smile still seemed to send a chill down your spine. “Did you think I could ever willingly love you?” He asked. “You were a job, an assignment.” Your heart began to pound against your ribs. Could he hear it? You were backing up into the dining room.

“Who wants me?” You found yourself asking.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll be dead and I’ll crave up those little brats for good measure,” you let out a shaky breath and lowered your hands.

“You aren’t getting to them,” you said. “You’ll have to get through me first.”

Natasha was pouring a cup of coffee for her and Wanda. They were taking a short break before finishing up. She felt arms wrap around her waist and the warmth of her wife pressed against her back. “I wanna go home.” She whined. Natasha chuckled, turning around to see Wanda’s noise pinched. She kissed it.

“We are almost done, baby,” she handed Wanda her coffee. “I’m thinking of pizza and movie night?” Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw it was Billy. Showing Wanda the caller ID before putting the call on speaker. “Hi, bud.”

“Mom,” he was whispering and his voice was shaky.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“The bad man is here,” he whispered. They weren’t sure what he was talking about. “The bad man that hurt Y/n.” The couple dropped their coffee on the floor and sprinted towards their car. “Please hurry.” A gunshot went off and both of the boys let out a quick squeak.

“Boys, I need you to stay right there,” Natasha said.

“But what if she’s hurt? We can help.”

“Stay hidden. We are on our way.”

Natasha felt her heart beating against her ribs as she saw their door broken down. They called out your name but you didn’t respond. The Black Widow had her gun out as she searched the bottom floor. They made it to their dining room and found a man laying on top of you. Natasha ran over, kicking the man off of you and his body slumped to the side with a bullet wound in his stomach. Your eyes were wide, hands shaking as you held the gun in your hand. “Hey sweetheart,” Natasha put her gun away. “Can I have that?” You nodded, handing her the gun. Natasha removed the magazine from the gun and put it on the ground next to her. Wanda knelt next to you and helped you sit up. Your eyes kept glancing at this still form but Wanda brought you into her arms, sliding you from the body. You were shaking in her arms. Natasha walked over to him and checked for a pulse but she shook her head when she found none. Wanda held you tighter.

“Billy and Tommy,” you whispered. “Are they okay?” Wanda.

“Do you want to go find them?” You nodded. Natasha sent a quick text to Sam and met her wife upstairs. You were waiting for her to emerge from their bedroom and didn’t take long for Wanda to bring out a new shirt for you. Yours had blood on it. You changed quickly, leaving the bloody shirt on the floor, and continued to the guest room. “Billy, Tommy, it’s safe.” The twins didn’t need to be told twice before they ran out of the closet and straight into you. The force knocked you to the ground.

“You can’t do that,” Tommy said, hitting your chest. “Why do you always have to be the hero?” He cried. “We could have helped.” He kept hitting you but his hits got softer while he cried against you.

“Hey,” Natasha said, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on his back. “I know you are feeling a lot but we need to stop hitting her.” You overcame your shock and hugged the twins tight.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You said.

“But you're our sister,” Billy said. “We can’t lose you.” You looked at Natasha and Wanda at the term Billy called you. The couple smiled at you. They tried to convey all the emotions they were

“I’m right here,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Wanda walked out of the bathroom with a smile on her face. Her bed was full of Natasha, the twins, and you. The boys were fast asleep, cuddling against you. There was just enough space next to Natasha for her to squeeze in. “We are going to need a bigger bed if this continues to be a thing,” Wanda climbed into bed. Natasha was running her fingers through your hair. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” You shrugged.

“I know he was bad and he would have hurt me or worse the twins but I didn’t want to kill him.” You whispered. Natasha sighed.

“I’m sorry you had to be put in that position,” Natasha said. You nodded, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the feeling of her hand. Wanda gently nudged her wife’s shoulder, nodding her head. “About what Billy said.” Your eyes shut open.

“Like you said there were a lot of emotions,” you shrugged again. Wanda tried to keep her powers at bay but she could feel loneliness washing over you.

“Well, Natasha and I want to make what Billy said official.”

“I’m sorry. What?” You questioned.

“We want to adopt you,” your jaw dropped and Wanda giggled, using her pointer finger to close your mouth.

“Are you serious?” You asked. The couple nodded. Tears swelled in your eyes and without hesitation you jumped up and brought them into a hug.

“Ah,” Billy gasped.

“Is there an Earthquake?” Tommy asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You ended the hug and whipping the tears out of your eyes.

“Nothing,” you said. “Just happy.”

“Alright,” Wanda said. “We need to readjust so I don’t fall off the bed.” It was you in the middle with Tommy and Billy on either side and Natasha and Wanda still on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as the exhaustion of the day caught up to you.

“No need to thank us,” Natasha whispered.

“We are a family,” Wanda said. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Part 2

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x daughter #wandanat #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #yelena belova x kate bishop #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #tommy maximoff #billy maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #Kate Bishop #marvel #Marvel AU

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multifandomwhore-003 · 10 months

Text

Forever —Drabble

Pairing: Lando Norris x female! reader

Summary: First time watching your boyfriend crash during a race? Rough.

Genre: angst, fluff.

Waring(s): Mentions of the Las Vegas crash.

Taglist: @ join taglist here

A/N: This is by far the most poetic work I've ever put out (I think), that being said. WHATEVER TF THIS IS, BLAME ON HIM, THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS

Gif credits to whom it belongs

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK

Even through ringing ears and a dazy view, he could clearly hear you, wondering then how it was even possible, he heard beyond the arguments and strong footsteps; the flare of your nose, the shakiness in your breath, the hamering in your heart, he swore he could feel it. And with that in mind, he sighed in relived, he could feel something after all, the last thing he remembered, the last thing he perceived was dread, flashing through the last few hours of his life, could those be his last?

Shaking, on the verge of tears all he could do beyond gathering the last remnants of strength in him, was think of his family, you right beside his parents, you.

Minutes passed before he realized he blinked forcefully, perhaps one of these times he'd actually lose consciousness, or worse, be gone for good. His usual dramatics and the painkillers were dancing around his brain, making it their playground. Against all of this, he tried to organize the sound with letters, letters into words, and words into speech. Speech, Could he speak right now?

He prepared himself for the task by trying to stand on his elbows.

"Mr. Norris, please lie down," the nurse guided his head back into the pillow.

"My girlfriend," his throat was hoarse strangely enough.

"She's right outside," the nurse's undertone confirmed his bare train of thought.

"I have to see her," he grabbed the woman's arm, he was pleading.

She whispered something under her breath, clearly giving in to the situation, "I'll let her in," she grinned.

He could recognize something now, your stance, firm in shape, trembling with every motion, you stepped in asking, no, demanding the nurse to close the door behind her, avoiding her gaze in plain coldness. You said nothing for the first few seconds, breathing deeply.

"I'm okay," he let out.

"I know, they've already explained everything to me," you covered your mouth.

His fingers reached for yours, longed for them, interlacing with one another, perfectly, like every time before tonight.

He took some awareness of his surroundings, as much as he could without pushing to the edge, how horrible of a might he had over his head, effective, but far too harsh, far too overwhelming.

"We're going home in a couple of hours, they just wanna make sure, you're going to be fine," you knew you were failing at reassuring him, he didn't need it, but you did.

"I gathered that, otherwise you would still be outside yelling at everyone you could,"

You chuckled, not proud of your actions, but finding them rather hysterical at the moment, "I'm sorry you had to hear that,"

"It was music to my ears," he joked.

"Having my screams flood this place?"

"Having you care so much about me,"

"Always," was all you could answer biting down a sniffle.

It was not so long ago when you quietly promised yourself to give him your heart, the one thing you'd never thought you'd offer, let alone to the guy the Russells so kindly invited to a tennis event, to the guy who over a few drinks and laughs without a sense of shame in the world asked you to dance messily, making of those videos something for the internet to cut and explore. He was so much more than that now, and even to put it into those words was the understatement of a lifetime.

He could say the same thing about his side of the story, to explore a rather rushed friendship before diving, completely submerging, was something he'd labeled as a blessing. To fill his hours by your side in talking, and talking until you had everything to learn from one another laid out and displayed in string lights. Neither of you looked for this, flowing like every bottle of champagne you saw him pop, like every shot of Tequila you drank during Mario-kart nights, like every tear of Rosé you spilled all over your couch in the middle of the night.

And to think that both the most infamous people of their career found in themselves something far more valuable than money, fame, even transcending. Comprehending during the first years of your adulthood what it all meant to allow yourself to be completely consumed with love. So unexpectedly both your reputation and his infinite rumors could all be proven wrong. Through the worst of the trials and tribulations of being committed, you still survived.

His head rested in all the calmness you made by moving heaven and earth to have, in the crook of your neck, never letting go of the sensation of his breath, his life. How funny was it to trust someone enough to keep you alive, physically, mentally emotionally; how funny that none of them could think of how to prove something as mysterious as love to be true, in themselves, in one another, in other people past the centuries, yet they believed in, that's what they invested their faith in.

Admitting you were never fools, but only to each other, you could almost touch each other's soul, finding it far more familiar than your own.

"I'm okay," he'd been repeating the same words like a prayer since the night before.

"I know," you gulped, letting go of a choked exhale.

He read you, "Trust me?"

"Forever," you reminded your thoughts, clearing them out with just one.

—If you can't trust yourself, trust him, forever—

"I'm okay," he tested the words against your sleepless frame.

"I belive you," you finally admitted in peace before giving you lips to his.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #formula 1 #f1

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catnipaddictt · 5 months

Note

Hi! Could I request an Anakin X reader where Anakin sees that reader hasn’t been sleeping and he tries to help?

anakin x gn!reader

wc: 0.8k

cw: none! fluff, spooning

comment: sorry this took a while to finish! hopefully it's kinda what you had in mind!

Rolling over, your eyes focus on the moonlight streaming through the window. You haven’t been sleeping well, or at all for the past week. You were so tired but your body refused to let you sleep. Your nights all seemed to drag on forever and no matter how hard you focused or how long you shut your eyes, nothing was happening.

You shove the covers off of yourself, lying here was useless and you had already been trying for hours. Checking the clock, you find it's only 2am. The rest of the jedi would be tucked up and well asleep by now. Placing your feet on the hard ground, you stand up, grabbing your Jedi cloak and wrapping it around yourself. You slowly pad over to the door, slipping on your boots and unlocking it. You head down the silent halls in search of a balcony door. Seeing that all are shut you find a large window with a bench against it.

You nestle yourself against one of the pillars the window sits between, wrapping your cloak around your knees. You watch the skyline of Coruscant as the hundreds of speeders and other transports pass by. The lights of the skyscrapers illuminate the sky, night never feels dark on the city planet.

You are so focused on the view out the window, that you don’t sense the presence of another appearing behind you. You also jump out of your skin as the person speaks your name in a hushed voice. “When was the last time you slept?”

You turn around to be met with the face of Anakin Skywalker. Like you he was wearing what you assumed were the clothes he slept in. His soft sweatpants sit perfectly on his hips and his shirt clings to his muscular form in all the right places. He looks at you softly, waiting for you to reply.

“I was asleep before” you lie through your teeth. Truth be told, you admired Anakin a lot. Although he was the CEO of thinking before he acted, you had grown close to the chosen one.

“Don’t lie, it's not the Jedi way” he teases, causing you to glare at him. “I heard you open and close your door, and I'm pretty sure I also heard it yesterday, and the day before, and the day bef-” He counts on his fingers before looking at you accusingly. You think before answering honestly.

“I just haven’t been sleeping well the past week, that's all” you respond, trying to sound like it doesn’t bother you much. Anakin raises an eyebrow at you, “have you been sleeping at all?” His blue eyes burn into your own.

The shadows cast from the walls bathe him half in darkness, half in the light from the city outside. His features suddenly seem a lot sharper than they look in the daylight, and the dark robe he wears doesn’t help. You shrug at his question. “So that's a yes then?” His rhetorical question makes you look back outside at the speeders traveling past.

“Come on” he says before he grabs your hand, making you turn around before he pulls you to your feet. “Anakin, where are we going?” you question as he drags you down the hall. He pushes open a door, leading you to discover that he has brought you to his room. Looking around, you notice that it is very him. His clothes hung half-hazardly over a chair, and a pile of books in the middle of the floor. A blueprint and selection of tools accompany the books.

He shrugs off his own cloak, before pulling yours off your shoulders and hanging it up beside your. “Anakin what-” you are cut off by him leading you to his bed and gently pushing you down onto the soft covers. “I’m trying to help you” He replies as if you have any clue what that means. He lifts the covers for you, ushering you under them. You comply still confused. He moves around to the other side of the bed, climbing in himself.

Before you can fathom what he is talking about you feel his arms pull you towards his chest, rolling you over so your back is to him. If you weren’t shocked at the movement you might have realised that he was so, so warm and his arms wrapped around you felt right.

“Why?” is all you question him. He speaks softly and you can feel his breath against your neck, “to help” he repeats his previous statement. “Now shut your eyes.” You don’t know why you follow his instructions, but you seal your eyes closed, feeling the rhythmic movement of his chest against your back.

Slowly but surely, you feel yourself getting tired and your mind begins to slip into unconsciousness. You could feel Anakin also begin to fall asleep behind you, his head tucked against your neck. Eventually you fall into a deep slumber, your first in too long, against the unexplainable cure for your insomnia - Anakin Skywalker

sorry for any grammar errors!

Taglist: @heartsforanakin @qvnthesia

#star wars #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #revenge of the sith #the clone wars #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you

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zombiigrll · 4 months

Text

FOREVER GRATEFUL FOR YOU. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 3.7K (JESUS.) ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst + comfort (mostly angst), retelling of the walking dead 8x8 (so slight spoilers), use of y/n, reader death, blood, your regular zombie apocalypse warnings, cursing, kissing, mostly just sad stuff!! .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ i am SO SORRY for how INSANELY LONG this is. it took me like 3-4 hours to write oh my god. hope you guys enjoy anyhow though<3

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carl told you he was going on a run to find the man the two of you had spotted at the gas station. you begged to go, and eventually, he caved. the two of you had known each other since the start, being neighbors and all. you were in his house while you waited for lori to get ready to take the two of you to school, and thats when everything went down. with all of the things he saw you do, he knew you could take care of yourself.

...or he thought you could.

the two of you were lucky enough to find the man from the gas station and you found out his name was siddiq.

"i'm gonna ask you a few questions. i need you to answer honestly, okay?" carl told siddiq.

"..okay." siddiq nodded.

"how many walkers have you killed?" siddiq looks around, thinking. "i know it's hard to keep track-"

"237."

"really?" you raised an eyebrow, impressed, but skeptical.

"give or take a couple." siddiq shrugged.

carl nodded in response before continuing. "how many people have you killed?"

"one." the man averted his gaze to the ground.

"why?"

"the dead tried to kill him, but... they didn't." he explained, looking back up at the two of you.

"you've been making walker traps? is that how you've been killing all of them?" you asked, crossing your arms as you looked at the scenery of traps and the deceased walkers behind him.

"it's only part of it. my mom thought- or hoped- that killing them would free their souls. you know?" he clarified, seemingly upset but proud talking about his mother.

"doing that, doesn't that just make things harder for you while you're trying to survive?" carl inquired, furrowing his brows.

"i don't know.. i.. but you.. you gotta honor your parents, right?"

...

the three of you had been walking for a little while before you guys came across a couple walkers in the distance, crouching down near a tree.

"okay. for your mom." carl smiles and siddiq before facing you, signaling for you to join.

you grabbed your knife that was holstered across your waist, stepping forward alongside siddiq and carl. but shortly after, there was too many. at first it only seemed like a couple, enough for just the three of you to take care of quickly. but they began coming in from other sides of the forest, and you were cornered. you were stepping back to try and get more distance, but you twisted your ankle on a tree root, causing you to topple on top of the tree laying on the ground. the walkers began limping towards you as you looked frantically around for where your knife had went. but you were too late. two of the walkers were down on the ground, one on top of you and the other on your side. you tried your best to push the one over you with one of your hands while searching the ground for your knife with the other one.

*chomp!*

a pain rushed through your side, but you didn't think much of at that point due to feeling the handle of your knife, quickly picking it up and jamming it through the skull of the walker on your side, then into the one in front of you, pushing it off of you.

right as you did so, you were met with carl staring at you wide-eyed.

"oh my god, you're covered in blood." he ran over to you, crouching down next to you and grabbing your hand. "are- are you bit?"

he helped you up and you stared at the ground, then at your bloodied clothes. "...no. i'm okay."

you weren't okay. you knew what had happened to you, but.. you couldn't tell him. not now. you were lucky enough that your shirt had fallen over the bite when you stood up.

"are you sure? you don't feel anything at all?" he repeated his question, his hands on top of your shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"i'm sure." you nodded, wiping your hands on your legs. "we should.. we should head back now."

carl sighs. "...okay."

you felt like shit.

...

the entire walk back, carl was extremely cautious of any walkers, hoping there wouldn't be another close call on the way.

"...i love you, carl. don't ever forget that." you said, you voice low and slightly shaken.

"i love you, too. are you okay?" he was surprised at your sudden comment, which proved to have made him a bit anxious.

"yeah, yeah. i just wanted to say i love you." you smiled quickly at him before looking back down at your feet as you continued walking. you could feel your ankle that you twisted earlier was pulsating, and you could feel the bite beginning to eat away at your body, but you tried your best to keep your composure. you wanted your final day with carl to be normal.

...

you guys got arrived at alexandria and you walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. you stared at yourself in the mirror, taking in everything that had just happened. you removed your jacket and lifted up your shirt to reveal the bite, which was still leaking with blood. you couldn't take your eyes off of it. you shook your head while tears began falling from your eyes, processing this whole situation.

"fuck." you let out a breathy laugh before taking your shirt completely off.

you grabbed some of the medical supplies from behind the mirror and put it over the bite so it wouldn't bleed through new clothes. you grabbed a clean shirt from the laundry basket behind you and put it on.

you wiped the tears from your eyes, cleaning up your appearance a bit more before exiting the bathroom.

"there you are. how're you doing?" carl sat up from the couch and walked over to you.

"oh, i'm doing fine." you smiled up at him, interlocking his hands with yours. "hey, do you know where that camera is?"

"camera?" his eyebrow raised as he tilted his head with curiosity.

"yeah, remember? the camera? i used to always use it to take photos of you and judith." you reminded him with a laugh.

"oh, the camera!" he joined the laugh. "it's in my room, i'll go get it." he began walking in the direction of his room swiftly, coming back with the camera in hand shortly after.

"thank you." you took the camera from his hands, quickly pointing it up and taking a photo of him.

"ah, hey!" he chuckled, covering part of his face.

you grabbed the photo from the camera before pulling him into a tight hug.

"hey.. wheres judith?" you inquired, your head buried in his neck.

"she's up in her room, why?"

"we should hangout with her." you broke from the hug with a smile, putting the camera into your bag before heading into the direction of her room, carl following shortly behind you.

you walked into her room and picked her up from her crib. "hey, jude." you spoke in a soft voice, holding her gently in your arms. carl smiled at your actions. he's always had a soft spot for you and judith.

you began walking outside with judith in your arms and carl following by your side. you sit down on the steps of the porch, setting judith down in between you and carl. you dig into your bag and pull the camera out again, holding it up and taking a picture of the three of you.

you take the photo from the camera, moving it down to judith so she can see. as carl looked down at the photo that was forming, he notices how shaky your hands are.

"hey, your hands are shaking.." he points out, putting his hand over yours.

"oh, hah.. i'm okay. i don't know why i'm shaking so bad." you shrugged it off nervously, setting the photo in your bag along with the camera.

"..okay." carl nervously responded, nodding his head slowly.

"hey, carl?"

"hm?"

"do you remember before all of this when you came over to help decorate my room and my mom let us dip our hands in paint and put it above my bed?" you reminisced on the moment.

"oh, yeah, i remember!" carls nervous expression turned into a smile. "i remember asking my mom when i got home if she would let me do that. we never got the chance to."

"...why don't we do it now?" you asked, smiling back at him.

"do we have paint?"

you looked around and spotted some blue paint on the side of the porch. "there!" you pointed to it before grabbing it, setting it right next to you. "we could put the handprints right here on the porch."

you dipped the palm of your hand in the paint, setting it down on the porch. carl did the same after, except on the opposite hand of yours.

"hey, isn't blue your favorite color?" you asked carl, noticing him getting more excited about the paint after you found the blue paint.

he nodded, lifting his now blue paint-stained hand off of the porch.

the two of you faced judith, then each other. you carefully grabbed both of judiths hands and dipped her palms in the paint, setting them to the side of yours and carls prints.

the three of you giggled happily, smiling at each other.

"now this porch is ours." you proudly stated, glancing at the handprints drying into the porch. "let's go get our hands washed."

you carefully picked judith up with your non-paint stained hand and brought her to the bathroom to wash her hands.

...

it was the next day. it felt fairly peaceful- well, besides your body weakening. you knew that you were getting closer to your limit. carl was in the other room resting. you found a pile of envelopes and paper, and proceeded to write. your first note, of course, was to carl. after that, you wrote to michonne, rick, daryl, maggie, then judith. sure, she couldn't read, but for when she's older. you had also found some jewelry beads and string. when you and carl were younger, the two of you had friendship bracelets. his was blue, which had always been his favorite color, and yours was purple. you decided to recreate it for him to remember you by.

once you were finished, you put them on your wrists, covering them with your sleeves.

...

it was now night, and negan had came to alexandria. a feedback was played on the intercom before negan spoke into it. we was speaking about apologies, and whoever gave the lamest one would be killed. you all were given three minutes to open the gate for them. you felt your fever begin coming in, your body temperature quickly rising.

"come on." carl whispered, nudging you in the shoulder to snap you out of your daze, doing the same with michonne. "y/n, michonne! come on!"

"you guys go. i'll deal with them, okay?" you told him, to which he instantly shook his head disapproving.

"no, you're coming with. it's not something we're discussing-"

"go." your voice turned stern. "i'll be fine. they won't get me. i'll distract them and give you more time to get everyone to the sewer. then come back to the watchtower."

carl looked like he was about to say something, but you cut him off with a kiss. as you pulled away, you smiled at him reassuringly. "trust me."

carl furrowed his brows before looking up at you and nodding, nudging michonne to lead her away.

you began walking up the ladder to the watch tower, hearing negan give final warnings to rick despite him not being there.

you stood up on the watch tower. "rick isn't here."

"oh, shit!" negan said in his annoyingly enthusiastic tone. "everyone, everyone, hold your fire... it's y/n. look at you. answering the door just for him. sucks that he's gonna come home to a big smoky surprise."

"there's families in there. theres kids, carls baby sister." you crossed your arms, looking down at him.

"well, that shit just breaks my heart." negan said pathetically. "there's kids at the sanctuary. even had a baby at one of the outposts. i wonder what happened to her."

you stayed silent, angrily glaring at him.

"none of this shit's fair, kid. carl knows that."

"don't." your voice turned stern.

"he had to kill his own mom. that is screwed up." negan bringing up lori and her death filled you with rage. god, you wanted to get rid of negan right then and there. but you were smarter than that.

you took a deep breath. "bad stuff happens, but we can figure this out. we... we can stop this."

"rick had it that i died, no matter what." he reminded angrily. "he gave my people a choice, not me. now we're gonna need a new understanding. apologies, punish-"

"kill me."

"...what?"

"if you have to kill anybody, if there has to be a punishment, kill me. just me. serious."

"you want to die, girl?" he scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you.

"no... no, i don't. but i'll die if it means everyone here lives." you averted your eyes, looking down and noticing carl standing by the ladder waiting for you. "if.. if all of this ends, or makes things different because i die? it'll be worth it. i mean, was this your plan? is this really who you wanted to be?"

negan looks away, which gives you an opportunity to get down the watchtower and back to carl. you try and get down the ladder as quick as possible, but you trip at the last step.

luckily, carl was there to catch you. "shit, you're sweating bullets. are you okay-"

"nevermind that, we have to go!"

you and carl ran around alexandria, throwing the smoke bombs around as negan and the saviors begin launching their grenades into the homes.

as you guys are running around, you begin getting dizzy and your body heat is increasing.

you walk up onto the porch of one of the houses, laying the back of your head on the front door as you catch your breath. you wipe the sweat off of your head, breathing heavily.

carl walks up to you, throwing a smoke bomb behind him. "what's the matter with you?"

you shook your head. "nothing, nothing. i'm fine. just.."

you and carl come to a halt at the sound of a bomb hissing behind you. you turn around to face the house and just before the bomb blows, carl grabs you by your hand and tugs you towards him, stepping back away from the house.

as your body presses up against him, he notices your body temperature at a high. "jesus, you're burning up. here, the sewer is right here."

he lifts up the sewer cover and begins crawling down, signaling for you to follow after him. you walk over and step onto the ladder, pulling the sewer cover back over to cover you guys.

as you get to the bottom, you turn around and see everyone, safe. you start breaking down, covering your mouth as you sob.

“y/n? whats wrong? its done, were safe, everyone is safe.” carl says with confusion and panic in his tone as you stay silent. "...please, say something. you're scaring me."

“…im sorry carl. im so sorry.” carl raises an eyebrow.

you lift up the side of your shirt, revealing your bite to everyone.

carl stares at you, his eye becoming glossy and his brows furrowing together as his breaths deepen. he shakes his head. “no.. stop.” he turns around with his hands behind his head, shaking.

“it happened when i was trampled by the walkers.” you admitted.

“why… why didnt you tell me then..? you told me you were fine!” his voice was wobbly as he tried calming down.

“because i didnt want my last day to be spent with you worrying. i wanted your genuine happiness, not you masking your emotions because you knew it would be the… the final time.” your voice cracked as you spoke.

carl stayed silent, understanding, but still denying the whole situation. “i cant- no-“ he began to cry, running up to you and hugging you tightly. one of his hands laid behind your head and the other along your waist. “you can’t leave me. not- not like this, please.”

“i’m sorry. you’re gonna be okay, carl. you… you’re strong. stronger than anyone i’ve ever met before.”

you broke from the hug and began taking the bracelet off of your wrist, handing it to him. “here, take it.” carl wiped away the tears flowing from his eye before reaching his shaking hand out to the bracelet, taking it from your hands and putting it over his wrist.

"it's.. blue." he remembered the conversation you two had the previous day about his favorite color.

"yep. just for you." you chuckled, rolling your sleeve down and holding up your wrist to reveal the bracelet you made to match his. "we always wanted matching friendship bracelets, remember?"

you moved your hands up to the sides of his face, smiling widely at him with tears in your eyes. “you’re gonna be okay…you’re gonna be okay.”

before carl could say anything, you let out a loud wince as a pain shot through your side. carl quickly grabs you, stabilizing you.

"do.." he sniffles. "do you need to sit down?"

you nodded and carl helped you down on the ground. he held your hand tightly, pulling it up to his face.

"i can't..." he cried.

"i know, i know." you brought up your free hand to move his hair out of his face, moving his head to face you. "you're so sweet. i'm so.. so glad that i got to spend my whole life with you. i'm sorry you couldn't spend yours with me."

he shook his head in shock. the sewer cover opened, and rick and michonne stepped down, noticing carl resting his head on your hand and your beaten up and dying frame sitting on the ground.

"y/n?" michonne called out, her eyes widening at the sight of you.

you glanced over to her with a saddened smile. you brought your free hand to lift up your shirt again to re-reveal your infecting bite. rick walked over and put a hand on his sons back, staring at you somberly.

"...i got bit." you sighed, a tear falling from your eye. "me and carl, we were bringing someone back. his name is siddiq. he was the guy you saw at the gas station before."

rick shakes his head, covering his mouth. michonne steps closer to you with tears in her eyes. she had always been such a supportive person for you and carl, especially since lori had passed. "it wasn't the saviors, it wasn't anyone. i just.. i got bit."

...

"the saviors are gone. we can get everyone to the hilltop. we can get y/n to the hilltop!" carl argued, squeezing your hand tightly.

rick sighs. "she wont-"

"daryl can get one of the cars."

"y/n can't leave here." rick sternly says. "she doesn't have enough time."

"...i have to stay with her." carl shakes his head, looking down at you.

"carl.."

"if she can't go, then i'm staying with her." he repeats, a tear falling from his eye.

"..can you take judith?" rick asks daryl.

daryl nods, picking her up. "yeah. i'll get her there. i'll keep her safe."

"let me say goodbye." you weakly ask.

daryl sets her down near you, and she begins walking towards you.

you weakly smile at judith. "i already know you're gonna be incredible. you entered this world at a bad time, but that will only make you stronger. you're gonna grow up, make friends, find someone you love.. you'll live." you look down at the ground with a smile. "just like your mom said to carl, you're gonna beat this world. you and him."

judith begins whining, and thats when daryl picks her up again.

"goodbye, judith." you waved. "goodbye, daryl."

after stating your goodbyes to a couple people, you felt yourself beginning your end.

"i don't.. i don't know how much longer i have left." you held carls hand tighter. "i don't want to die in here."

"here." carl wraps your arm around his neck.

...

carl and rick helped you to the house across the way, setting you down carefully inside.

"th-thank you." you coughed. "i.. i have one more thing for you, carl."

"what? what is it?" he kneeled down next to you.

"it hurts to move, it's in my front pocket. please grab it."

he reaches in hand into your pocket and pulls out the envelop. "this?"

you nod. "open it."

he opens the envelop and reads whats inside.

'carl, you have always been there for me, ever since the beginning. after losing my family, you helped me. you, rick, and lori all helped me. i never thought that it would end this way, and i'm sorry i put you through this pain. i'm glad i met you. i'm glad you ended up being the one. i wouldn't have traded you for anyone else. thank you, and i love you. through life and death. - y/n.'

tears began flowing out of his eye yet again. he brought up a hand to cover his mouth.

"we grew up too fast. but we grew up together. i'm forever grateful for you, carl grimes." you laughed, holding his hand. "i love you."

"i- i love you, too." his voice cracked. "everything i did was for you, y/n. every single thing."

"that doesn't have to change. you have to be there for judith now, too. she needs her brother." you moved your hand up to his face. you felt your fever start to set in, and your brain felt like it was shaking alongside the rest of your body. "...it's time, carl."

"do you want me to.. to do it?" he put his hand to the gun that was holstered on his side.

"i can't do it myself. i can't move." you cried with a smile still laying across your face. "i'm sorry."

"it's okay." he took out his gun and moved his free hand to the side of your face.

"can i have one last kiss?" you chuckled. he nodded and leaned in, kissing you. you closed your eyes and felt the metal go to the side of your head.

and then all the pain went away.

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#🌙 — maxines fics #the walking dead #the walking dead angst #the walking dead oneshot #the walking dead imagine #twd angst #carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl x reader #carl x y/n #angst

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