#you could have a few bad chapters in the middle and it would be whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bvtbxtch · 10 months

Text

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 2: Graduation)

Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Chapter Summary: Ditching Eddie and Chrissy might have been the best decision you ever made. You were now graduated, had a great group of friends and a new found confidence. But even though it was a great choice, you still felt a piece of your heart missing. With a few mysterious phone calls and a box full of things, maybe you were right in feeling a little cautious about your choice to leave the metalhead alone.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word Count: 11.5k (SORRY)

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THIS LITTLE STORY. Thank you for being patient with me as well. I was not anticipating in it taking a month to get this part out but I have had some health issues that really had to take precedent first before I could relax and start writing. Thank you so much to everyone who reached out to see if I was okay <3 I did just want to mention that after this part, I will NOT be adding a taglist. You are all so incredibly supportive but I have been (still) getting DMs and replies about being on the taglist and I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I will be making a masterlist and when I do make that, I will add everyone from the AH taglist <3 thank you for understanding!!

Prologue

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

June 1986

You had awaited this day for what seemed forever. You had planned what life after high school was going to look like for you since you were in middle school. Chrissy had infiltrated your plans as soon as you met; you often imagined the two of you moving to Indianapolis, or even to New York. You would get a shitty little apartment together and you would find jobs working in bookstores or coffee shops and have next to no money, but you would be together, and you would be on your own. Eddie also quickly ended up being part of your after school plans. He would move with you, or maybe get an apartment with Gareth and Jeff and then the five of you would go on adventures all over whatever city you overran. That was one of the things you loved the most about Eddie, his ability to find adventure wherever he went and whatever he was doing. Maybe there would be some opportunity for you and Eddie to finally get together-

The two people you never saw your life without were now but distant furniture in your mind. The past month brought you a lot of clarity. You actually hadn’t talked to either Eddie or Chrissy since the day after prom. Chrissy had come up to you the next day, pale face and dark circles around her eyes, but she still was glowing somehow. She laid her head next to your locker and greeted you with a lovestruck sigh.

“Wasn’t prom just an absolute dream?” You slammed your locker and rolled your eyes at her, which made her jump. “What’s up with you?” she pouted. “I want to tell you all about my magical night-”

“Yeah Chris. I know all about your magical night. Okay?” You snapped. She was taken aback. “Go talk about how magical your night was with someone else, got it?” You turned on your heel and walked away from the blonde. You were too angry to be sad. Too empowered to cower under her influence. You deserved better and you knew it.

“Woah, woah! What is going on? Did I do something?” she jogged after you. You let out a dry laugh and turned to face her.

“‘He only kissed you back because he felt bad for you” You mocked. Not breaking contact while the light drained from her eyes. Suddenly, her vision clouded with tears. In her drunken haze, she had forgotten the confrontation in the hallway. She knew she shouldn’t have said what she did. Deep down, she knew it was a lie, but she was too insecure to confront Eddie about his feelings for you. Driving you away was easier than her feeling like she was second best.

“Y/N I-”

“You know what Chrissy? I really thought that we were going to be friends forever. I really thought that you would have my back through thick and thin. But you showed me your true colors. You don’t care about me. If you did, you wouldn’t do what you did.”

“Did what I did? You kissed my boyfriend!” She yelped.

“Who you treat like shit, Chrissy! You kept him a secret so you could let Carver think that he had a chance of getting in your pants last night. You immediately took Eddie’s side when he told you what happened, and not trusting your best friend of over a decade.” She shook her head at you in disbelief

“A real friend would have been happy for me to find someone like Eddie - who makes me happy, and pulls away when he tries to kiss you.” She poked

“A real friend wouldn’t ever pursue a boy who I’m obviously in love with” It slipped out. You didn’t mean to tell her. You both stood staring at each other through wide, glassy eyes. You took a few breaths and your gaze hardened.

“I should have said this to you the night you kicked me out of your house. I should have said this to you last night when you let me down. You are a shitty friend, Chrissy Cunningham, and you’re a shitty person. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Before she had any time to respond, you turned and strutted to your next class. Your heart hurt, but it felt so good to be confident enough in yourself, to be able to tell her how you really feel. She was done growing and flourishing, you had just started.

Eddie was too cowardly to come talk to you about what happened. He was so painfully in love with you, he couldn’t stand to see you get hurt again. So he admired you from afar, secretly cheering you on, as Chissy now interlocked her arm with his down the hallways. He was tired of making wrong decisions so he let the decisions be made for him. He couldn’t help feel a pang of desperation as graduation grew closer and closer, and the one person he wanted to be around drifted further and further out of his reach.

You slipped on the scratchy green polyester gown, refusing to fasten your cap to your freshly curled hair until you got to the school. Your wedges felt foreign in comparison to your regular Reeboks and you were compulsively checking your compact mirror to ensure your lipstick was perfect. You were so excited to get the formal convocation over with to go party at Gareth’s house. You strolled into the gym to be greeted by a group of drama friends, you all shared niceties and took a few pictures with the polaroid you toted with you. You had formed a small circle of friends in the last month of classes. Although they weren’t Gareth’s cup of tea, he was happy to invite them to the afterparty if it meant that you had more incentive to be there with him. Since cutting off Eddie and Chrissy, you spend way more time in the theatre during lunches and with Gareth afterschool and before Hellfire. Old you would have hoped that Eddie saw and was jealous. New you didn’t give half a shit.

You heard a familiar voice call your name and as you craned your neck to make eye contact, you broke from the crowd to run into Gareth’s embrace.

“Wow, Emerson! Thought I would never see you in a cap and gown!” You teased, but beamed up at him.

“Shut up… You look great” he smiled back at you. You quickly took your camera from around your neck and held it up to get both of your faces in frame.

“One for the books” you quipped. He rubbed your back affectionately as the microphone on the stage squealed. You found your seat and begrudgingly put your cap on. As you scanned the chairs for any more friends, your eyes fell to the door, where Eddie and Chrissy came walking in hand-in-hand. As angry as you were, you were happy to see Eddie finally succeeding in graduating. It brought warmth to your cheeks and a small smile to your lips. What you didn’t expect is for him to make eye contact with you. You froze. His gaze was soft, almost yearning. He raised a hand to you and offered a small grin. You waved back, too stunned to smile. He looked good. He looked happy. It filled you with melancholy for a moment before you broke eye contact and put your thoughts back together. You were here to succeed for you. You had friends that loved and appreciated you for you. You were going to go run amuck in a new city and find other people who loved you. And it all started here and now. You were going to grab that diploma, get blasted, and get the hell out of Hawkins.

Your name was called and you walked across the stage. A louder-than-you-were-expecting applause erupted, along with whoops and hollers from Jeff and Gareth, and the hellfire freshmen that were in the audience. You bowed as your tassel was flipped and caught gorgeous brown eyes staring up at you again, clapping wildly and grinning. He was genuinely proud of you, you could tell. He was sorry, you could tell. When it was his turn to walk the stage, you were one of the few that clapped for him. But you stood up and gave him a loud cheer. You were proud of him, he could tell. As he hopped down from the stage, he ran up to Chrissy’s spot- where she held her diploma in her manicured hands - and picked her up. He planted a kiss on her lips while he ran out of the gym. As much as you have grown, you wished it was you he was kissing, carrying out. You let the thought leave as their silhouettes vanished. It was time to party and forget about feelings.

Gareth’s house was bustling. Music was blasting throughout the house and it was rattling in your ribcage. Your head was swimming with the ‘punch’ you had already consumed while playing flip cup and beer pong. You laughed with your friends, so truly glad to be able to forget about the impending doom of real life and have fun with your favorite people. You slinked your way through the crowd over to Gareth, who was tending the punch bowl. He smiled at you and handed you another solo cup.

“Having fun?” he asked. You wrapped your arm around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He threw his arm around your shoulders, putting a little too much weight on you. He was drunk as well. You giggled

“This is the best party. Thanks for hosting, Garebear” you slur.

“Woah woah, Garebear? Absolutely not.” he scolds, pulling away from you. You let out a full chuckle as you clink your cup with his and down your drink.

Your night progressed to telling embarrassing stories in the living room over a game of Jenga. Your head was spinning and as much as you liked this feeling of weightlessness, you were afraid you were going to drift away. You pushed off of the couch and weaved your way through the crowds to the back door. You slid open the screen and you were gratefully met with a cool summer breeze. It was still warm, but the wind gave you goosebumps. You sighed with content and closed your eyes as you leaned onto the deck’s banister.

“Having fun?”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your right shoulder. In the shadows of the small outdoor light, you saw a tall, slender figure, and the outline of long, frizzy hair. Your smile faltered. He stepped into the light and took a drag from his cigarette

“Yeah, um… Sorry for disturbing you” you turned to walk back into the house

“Wait-” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you to him. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt like you were going to be sick. You were too close; Intoxicatingly close. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” You blurted out. He pulled his hands away and took a step back like you had burnt him. He looked guilty but sorrowful.

“Uh, we decided to go to different parties tonight.” He mumbled. You chuckled and glared into his soft brown eyes.

“So she didn’t want you to ruin the vibes of her ‘perfect party?”

“No, that’s not it! I just- I wanted to come here because… well because I miss you, and I miss hanging out in a group and I just wanted to come apologize, and, and I knew you wouldn’t hear me out if she was here too.” he panted. You could tell from his pleading eyes that he was serious. Your shoulders relaxed.

“Eddie, you don’t need to apologize to me, for anything. You got everything you’ve wanted. You graduated, and I am so, so proud of you for that. You got your band and your sheep. And… you have Chrissy. She’s a hot commodity... and you’re lucky to have each other. So you have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I hurt you-”

“And I’m over it. Look, I have no ill will against you, Eddie, but I think we just need to run in different circles for a while.” You murmured, eyes glued to your converse.

“I-is… is that what you really want?” Eddie took a step towards you.

NO “Yeah. I have a really great group of friends that love me for me. They don’t need anything else from me but me.”

“You’re still hanging around with Gareth, right?” Eddie hardens.

“Yeah. I am. He’s been the best friend I could ask for. He takes good care of me.”

“I’ll make sure he keeps taking care of you. I’ll kill him if he hurts you…”

“Save it, Eddie. I am so over your knight-in-shining-armor bullshit. You hurt me. You don’t get to decide who I hang out with or how I’m treated. You had a choice… You chose. So… deal with it.” The alcohol gave you more courage than you needed, but you weren’t mad. You were at peace. You turned and went back to the party. You didn’t realize, but that was just the way you needed to end your night. Closure and clarity. You returned to your spot beside Gareth to play another round of flip cup. Eddie selfishly couldn’t take his eyes off you. When he saw Gareth pick you up in a congratulatory hug, he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand picturing your story with Gareth and not him. So he slung back his last beer and stormed out the front door.

July 1986

The Hideout was never your favorite place to be. It looked like nothing more than a shack from the side of the highway that cut through Hawkins. Half of the lights on the neon side were burnt out, you doubted they had been changed since the joint opened in the 50s. The small bar had a few booths as well as tall bar tables, which were moved to create a makeshift dance floor in front of a dingy stage. The drum kit and microphones barely fit onto it, but you were sure that the ragtag group that made up Corroded Coffin would make it work. They always did before. There were three pool tables in the back of the space, behind the dark linoleum island bar. They had definitely seen better days, most of them missing pieces of velvet or pockets missing nets to catch balls underneath them. They were usually used for bikers or regulars to sit girls on them and make out. The bar smelt stale, like rotting wood, old beer and sweat. There are many places that you would rather be, but when your best friend begs you to make their regular crowd of 10-11 people (including staff) a person or two bigger, you go. Gareth treaded the idea of you coming to the show lightly, as you had not talked to their frontman since the graduation party. You felt no ill will and really didn’t mind being around him. You got your closure, and you were there for Gareth. No need to think too much into it.

You had seen Eddie around Hawkins in the last month. You had gotten a job at Family Video and would regularly work with Steve and Robin, who Eddie frequented. Your heart didn’t hurt when they talked about him anymore, and when he occasionally showed up to Family Video, or you saw him in Starcourt, or in the grocery store, you gave him the same curt but friendly smile every time. He understood the boundaries that you had given him. Friendly, but not friends. He always smiled back, but his heart sank. He missed you more than you could know.

You shuffled yourself into the closest booth to the stage and waited in soft anticipation. You hadn’t been to a Corroded Coffin show in months. It felt odd but familiar. You ordered yourself a rum and coke and absently sipped it as you listened to the Johnny Cash record that was playing on the jukebox.

You heard the door swing open behind you and a bubbly chuckle ring out through the bar. A sound that you definitely would not picture hearing in a place like this. You turned around to see Chrissy. Of course she would be here. Her strawberry blonde hair was curled in perfect ringlets and was held away from her face with a ribbon. Her long legs were framed perfectly under her light pink romper. Her waist beautifully cinched with a thick purple belt. Her lips were lusciously painted a glossy pink and her lashes were manicured to be wispy. She looked perfect, far too pretty to be here. Behind her followed Tiffany and Sarah. The trio picked a bar table that skirted the dance floor, across the bar from you. You, like most of the men in the building, followed their figures to their seats and Chrissy stole a glance at you. She looked at you and waved but you looked away, sinking a large gulp of your drink.

Chrissy had reveled in the fact that her prom stunt had secured her some extra attention for the last week or so of school. Everyone seemed to be talking about her in the hallways and although not all of it was good, she thought it was better to have people talking bad about you than not at all. Suddenly, all of the jocks were at her locker, or fighting to sit with her at lunch, desperate to show her that they were better than the freak she had somehow landed herself with. The attention shot her ego and popularity to an alltime high and she became the queen bee of Hawkins - there was no more sharing or cliques, everyone was under Chrissy’s spell. Everyone thought of her as either generous for going to prom with Eddie, or a down-to-earth girl next door because she kept associating herself with him. It made your stomach roll but she continued to smile sweetly at everyone in the hallway. She often let her gaze linger on you too long. She had everything she thought she wanted those last weeks of highschool. Everything but her best friend. And little did she know, the newfound fame didn’t reach beyond the month of June and the hallways of Hawkins High.

As she sat at her table, her manicured nails wagged at men who were ogling her from the bar behind her. She flashed a devious grin to her friends and waltzed over to the bar. You watched closely. Last time you had heard, she was still with Eddie… There's no other reason why she would be here. You heard her boisterous laugh once more as she strutted back to her table, a cocktail in her hand. You never would have thought that Chrissy would be the type to take advantage of anyone, but then again, in the past few months, you watched the person you thought you knew the best change into a stranger in front of you. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to the glass in your hand.

You suddenly heard the humm of an amp and the vibrations of a bass being strummed. You looked up to see your friends taking the stage; All but Eddie. You cheered excitedly for Jeff, Gareth and Tommy but your heart pounded wildly in anticipation for the lanky metalhead that was missing. The few stage lights flickered as the energy and volume of the instruments rose and they began their set. Right before he started singing, Eddie sprang onto stage. There sure wasn’t a huge crowd, but everyone cheered as he appeared. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the men perform, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s form. You felt your temperature rise what felt like 10 degrees. There was no doubt that he had charisma on stage, that is where he was born to be; But you felt all too emotional looking up at the man that you used to call your best friend. The man you thought that you might be in love with, the man that you thought you found closure with. You let yourself feel the waves of emotion flow through you with the music as you rocked back and forth with the rhythm. When applause erupted, you let your mind quiet with the music. The lights came back on and you grabbed your bag and your glass and got ready to return it to the bar. As you got up to leave, you noticed a gaggle of green letterman jackets had pushed their tables next to the one Chrissy and the girls were sitting at. Your anxiety spiked. You hadn’t talked to any of the jocks since prom and were fine with being the pariah of the group, but the fact that none of your friends were with you now made you feel nervous. You peered at the group from the other side of the bar and watched as Jason leaned in to whisper something into Chrissy’s ear. She slapped his arm playfully and giggled. You felt sick. You couldn’t wait for the boys to get their gear so you could say your goodbyes.

“Well, how’d ya like it?” The familiar voice instantly broke the tension in your body. You turned and gave Gareth a peck on the cheek.

“It was awesome, rockstar! You all were great” you say to Jeff and Tommy who were now sitting at the bar. They smiled and raised their fresh beers to you.

“So, you wanna get out of here? After party at my place. Got beer and the shit you like.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. As much as you wanted to celebrate their show, you needed quiet. You needed to just go home and shower off the gross conflicting feelings you had.

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I just need to go home tonight, Gar.” he studied your face. The sheer amount of time that you had spent with him meant he could read you like a book. He scanned the dingy room and found the source of your anxiety. His gaze hardened at the green jackets infiltrating their space.

“They better not have said or done anything to you, I’ll kill them-”

“No no no they didn’t, just weird to see them all here” you reassured. Both of your gazes softened as you found the dark battle jacket amongst the lettermen. Eddie was scoffing loudly and flailing his hands. After a fantastic show, you expected to see him beaming, but his face was set in a hard scowl.

Eddie was slowly losing his patience. He had practically begged Chrissy to come to his gig tonight. He knew that there would be potential for the Hideout to start paying them for regular gigs if they brought in a crowd, but this was the opposite of what he wanted. When he was on stage he met with two pairs of eyes, your beautiful bright eyes and her glazed over blue ones. He was disappointed to see one of them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the whole set. He had forgotten how much he missed having you in the crowd. He could feel your energy from 20 feet away. It made him want to perform better. When he looked over to Chrissy’s table, he lost his spark. She looked disinterested. She was busy gabbing to her friends the whole time. Then, when he saw the meatheads walk in, he wanted to jump right off the stage and end the gig right then. But he pushed because at least they would be helping their audience numbers. Once Eddie took a moment to mentally prepare himself in the green room after the show, he plastered on a fake smile and sauntered over to Chrissy. He went to give her a chaste peck, but she turned her face for him to kiss her cheek.

“My lipgloss, Ed!” She giggled. Eddie rolled his eyes, shot her a sickly sweet smile and planted his lips on her cheek. The girls sitting next to Chrissy oohed and ahhed and the jocks kept to their own conversation, but their presence seemed like it was to mock him. He instantly got caught in his own head, wondering if their intent really was malicious, or if he was just reliving past high school trauma. He was pulled out of his trance when Chrissy’s manicured hand pulled on the lapels of his vest.

“Hey, rockstar! I’m talking to you!” She teased. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“Sorry, babe. What were you saying?”

“There’s a party out at Lover’s Lake, Jason’s parent’s cabin. Do you want to drop off your band stuff first then we can head out? We can grab some blankets and just sleep in the back of the van because I don’t know about you, but I want to be fully alone when we-” she blabbed, Eddie cut her off by taking her wrists in his hands.

“Woah, woah! I told you, the band is having their after party at Gareth’s house. You promised me we would be there. Come on, Chris.” Eddie pouted. She had been ditching him more often to go out with other people. He tried not to let his insecurities get the best of him, but it felt like he was losing her interest. This was something he wasn’t going to budge on. This was his night. She was supposed to be there for him. He couldn’t help but think that if it was you in Chrissy’s place, there wouldn’t even be a debate. He wouldn’t have even had to ask you to show up in the first place.

“Oh, come on. Don’t you want to go out to the cabin?” She searched for any kind of agreement she could get from any of the jocks. They either politely smiled at her or avoided her eye contact. The invitation was for Chrissy not Chrissy and Eddie. “It’s going to be, like a million times better than sitting in Derek’s-”

“Gareth’s” Eddie seethed.

“Gareth’s - whatever - Gareth’s dusty garage. It’ll be romantic. We can have the whole ride up there just you and me…” She cooed, she moved her lips to the lobe of Eddie’s ear “and I can tell you how wet you made me watching you up on that stage” she whispered. Eddie knew that he should be turned on. But he was so angry with her that he couldn’t oblige her. Not this time.

“I’m not budging, Chris. We need to go to the afterparty. I need to be there with my boys, too. We have cause to celebrate and this is really important to me.”

“But, Eddie…”

Eddie was tired of the games, he was fed up with her tonight.

“Either we go to Gareth’s together, or we won’t be seen at any parties anymore.” Eddie challenged. He hated that he had to give her an ultimatum but if that’s what it took., then so be it. He didn’t want to be the tag along. Not tonight. Chrissy’s stare hardened at her. He had never challenged her like that before.

“Alright, Munson. You win. We’ll go to your little party.” Eddie rolled his eyes and told Chrissy he was going to check in with the rest of the band to see what the plan was. She nodded and Eddie turned away, giving the rest of the table a tight smile. He moped his way over to where you and Gareth watched silently. He seemed to light up a bit when he saw your inviting smile.

“Hey, congrats rockstar. You did an amazing job up there” You wrapped a hand around Eddie’s bicep. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine at the contact.

“You think so? Thanks.” Eddie blushed. He was always one to be so sure of himself, this lack of confidence threw you off.

“Hell yeah I think so! It was the best show I have seen you guys do yet!” You exclaimed.

“Are you gonna come to the afterparty?” Eddie asked, hope splayed in a smile across his face.

“No, I gotta sit this one out. I have to open Family Video tomorrow.”

Eddie looked dejected. He was so happy to see you in the crowd, he had hoped he would be able to talk to you at the party and really apologize.

“Trust me dude, we’re all bummed. I’ve been trying to change her mind for the past 15 minutes. I even offered to call Robin to ask her to cover myself!” Gareth offers. You give the men a sorry smile.

“You’re gonna have a great time without me! It’s your night. Don’t let me ruin it.” God, you were so selfless. He couldn’t help but admire you in the dim light. So kind and so beautiful. It wasn’t fair how things ended between you. He was an ass. You turned away from him to walk to the door after sending kind waves to the band.

“Y/N” Eddie grabbed your wrist and pleaded with his chocolate eyes. You got lost in them almost immediately. You knew what you felt when he was on stage and you’re pretty sure he knew and felt it too. “Wait, please come to the-”

“Eddie! Are we going or what?” you hear a shrill voice from behind the man staring down at you. Chrissy looked pissed (in more ways than one). Her hands rested on her hips and she tapped her foot on the ground as she swayed. Eddie groaned and let go of you. The heat in your chest quickly faded. You peered around Eddie to smile tightly at the blonde. Her eyes widened and softened at your gesture. She slowly raised her hand to wave to you. You looked back to Eddie.

“You-you better go” you smile sadly at him. “You’re girl’s waiting for you. Have fun tonight, Eddie. Again, you deserve it.”

For the second time, Eddie watched you walk away and he fell into the impatient arms of a girl that he thought he loved. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your figure as you slipped out of the bar into your car.

As you got in, you let out a big sigh and punched your steering wheel. You knew you made the right choice by leaving and not entertaining anything with the man that trapped your heart all over again, but it would have been so easy to fall back into his arms and pretend like Chrissy didn’t exist. But you didn’t want to stoop to their levels. You didn’t want to get trapped in what was easy versus what was best for you. So you turned the key in the ignition and you quietly drove back to your apartment, retiring to a warm bath and a book, before crawling into bed and letting loneliness and the thought of Eddie on stage singing to you lull you to sleep.

September 1986

Your first summer of freedom did not follow the plan you thought you had perfected before graduating. Some of those things on your list looked similar, but with different people. You often went joyriding with Steve and Robin after closing Family Video and spent long nights out at Lover’s Lake with old drama club friends. It felt liberating that you didn’t feel a hope about a certain mop headed boy, even though you had been frequenting band practices and summer Hellfire meetings to casually see him as much as possible. You found some independence and even though you often felt lonely without Eddie and Chrissy, you knew you were doing fine without them.

You had just gotten home from a shift at Family Video. The last bit of humid summer air kissed your skin. You shrugged off your vest and other clothes and tossed them into your hamper before starting a steaming shower to wash away the day. You had been looking forward to treating yourself to a face mask, a steam and ending the night by curling up into bed with the newest Stephen King novel. You flopped down on your bed, dawning your favorite oversized tee shirt from your dad’s auto body shop and a pair of sleeper shorts. Your hair was tied loosely in a towel and your face felt clean and soft. You sighed with content as the night was finally yours. You don’t remember how long it took, but you dozed. You awoke to the record you had started playing being long hushed; your glassy eyes opened in accompaniment to the shrill ring of your phone. You grabbed at it and groggily answered. You were greeted by preppy sobs ringing through your ear.

“H-hello?”

“Y-Y/N” Chrissy wailed. You could smell the alcohol wrecking her through the phone. “I-I need you to tell me I’m not a bad person.”

You paused and almost laughed to yourself. “Chrissy, why are you calling me?”

“I, I just need someone to tell me that I am not a bad person, okay? No one likes me anymore.” You could hear hiccups between her sobs and shuffling from whatever party she was at.

“It’s late, Chrissy. You should go home and go to sleep-” You move to hang up the phone but her cry stops you.

“I did a really bad thing, Y/N and I need someone to tell me that I’m worth keeping around because no one likes me anymore. No one wants to talk to me and no one looks at me and I want boys to look at me and like me and-”

“Chrissy you have the boy that you love right now. What are you talking about? You have everything you could ever want…” You scoffed.

“Y/N, I, I don’t think I love Eddie. I don’t think I ever did.” Chrissy whispers. The phone stays quiet save for the party behind her. Her sniffles break the silence every few moments.

“What did you do, Chris?” Your head was spinning. How could she not love Eddie? One of the easiest people on the planet to love. He was the boy who knew how to make anyone feel special and wanted just by looking at them. He would drop anything and run to Chrissy if she ever needed anything and you knew that for a fact. You knew that he was eager to take others’ pain away and make it his to help. He was perfect, a treasure that deserved to be protected at all costs, not be treated like this. Eddie was probably alone in his trailer right now, worried about his girlfriend, or waiting to give her a ride home, while she’s calling you to tell you that she doesn’t love him? How dare she? You wanted to believe that the girl that you used to know was still in there somewhere. That Chrissy would never do anything to hurt someone that she cared about - even if she didn’t love him…

“Well.. there’s this party going on and, and all the old jocks are here you know? A-Aand Jason and I, well like we were always ‘will they won’t they’ you know? And i saw him at this party and Eddie was being a total jerk and didn’t want to come with me and he just doesn’t look at me like these guys do and-”

“What:” you scoff. “Like a piece of meat?”

“Y/N please. Like I am wanted, like I am attractive. Like I am a prize, okay? Eddie looks at me, but it doesn’t feel as good as when Jason or Andy or Patrick looks at me - like in high school-”

“Chrissy, that’s really fucked up and pathetic. Why are you calling me?”

“Because you’re my best friend - well, you were… and I-I-I miss you, I shouldn’t have stopped being your friend, and I’m sorry I let stupid Eddie come in between us.”

“Stop. Chrissy, Eddie didn’t come between you and me, You came between Eddie and I, and the shit you pulled was fucked up. So tell me what you want so I can get off the goddamn phone and I can rinse the disgusting feeling I have off for talking to you about this-”

“I cheated on Eddie”!” She blurted out. “I’ve been cheating on Eddie for months now. And I’m a bad person but it feels so good to be wanted, Y/N I can’t explain it.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say, Chrissy. That’s fucked up, even for you. You have been the lowest of fucking low, but I never thought you would be the type of person to totally fuck up your relationship like that. I don’t know why you wanted to call and tell me this, but I don’t feel sorry for you. Not in the slightest. Goodnight.” You slammed your receiver down on your phone and felt tears prick at your eyes. Not your Eddie. Eddie doesn’t deserve this. You sat in contemplative silence - unwilling to believe the conversation you had just happened.Your phone rang again and you jolted in panic.

“Hello” you whispered.

“Hey, Y/N… Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up” You heard his gruff voice and your breath hitched.

“E-Eddie, why are you calling me?”

“Sorry, sorry I just - I’m kind of freaking out because I haven’t heard from Chrissy in like three days and I just got a call from her I think and she was sobbing your name before the line went dead… I - I was just wondering if she had called you or if something happened I guess. This is stupid I shouldn’t have called you” He sounded exhausted and like he had been crying.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m just tired of these disappearing girlfriend tricks I keep getting fucking trapped in.” He lets out a dry chuckle.

“I don’t know where she is but I think I know where to find her… I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Okay?” You hear his long sigh over the phone and you wish that you could forget the boundaries that had built up between you and run to him. Tell him that you were there for him and kiss away his pain. Your heart was breaking for him (even though you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction… you had warned him.).

“Hey, Sweetheart?”

“What’s up, Eddie?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything-” you heard his voice crack.

“Eddie, it’s okay-”

“No. It’s not.” he cut you off. “I’m so sorry for the shitty person I had been. I fucked up one of the good things I had in my life because I got selfish, and in my own head. I never wanted to hurt you.. I - I just… I don’t know why I chose her. I wanted it to be you so badly, but I forced it.. And I just hope that I can convince you to be my friend again someday.”

“We’ll see what we can do, Ed.” with that you clicked your phone back to the receiver and threw on a flannel. Although you hadn’t been in quite some time, the only place that the meatheads frequented was the Carver residence on the other side of town. You never felt your place there, but you knew how to navigate it. You hastily started your car and set off for your destination.

Jason’s street was littered with abandoned station wagons and empty solo cups. You could hear the music blasting from the beginning of the cul de sac - your head already began to pound. You snaked your way to the end of the manicured driveway and slammed your car door shut. You trudged to the open front door, keeping your head down. As you passed through waves of people, you could feel stares into the back of your head and giggles of your name. You scowled and trained your eyes to search for a pair of tanned legs and a blonde ponytail. You paused in the kitchen, desperate to find Chrissy and your chance to leave when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and warm breath sneak up to your ear.

“I didn’t remember inviting you to my party… outcast” a baritone voice huffs.

“You didn’t, Carver… I’m picking something up and then I will be out of your hair. Don’t let me ruin your night.” You pull away from him but his grip on your waist becomes bruising.

“Aww, come on, outcast. Why don’t we party like we used to. You’ve been hanging out with the freaks for too long… Forgot how to have fun. Why don’t you let me show you what you’ve been missing, huh?” Jason spun you around so his piercing blue eyes were boring into yours.

“I would literally rather poke my eyes out with hot knives. Where’s Chrissy”

“Oh, god you really are a desperate frigid bitch, aren’t you? You know I didn’t want to believe Chrissy when she told me but, I guess she was right” The blonde sneered.

“Yeah, yeah, Jason. I get it. Go take your steroids and show the rest of your friends how manly you are… I’m not interested. Now do you know where I can find her, or did you lose the brain cells for facial recognition too?” Jason stared at you slack jawed, then his grin slid across his face. It made you sick.

“Well, when I left her an hour ago, she was - ahem - cleaning herself up in my room. Feel free to go look there if you’d like… But be warned, you might not like what you see up there.” He giggled. He brought his face into your cheek and your blood froze. He puckered his lips and planted them to the side of your face.

“It was… so good to see you again, Y/N. Glad to see you really did peak in high school… ugh and that says something, doesn’t it?” He breezed past you to leave you to physically recoil and regather. You wanted to turn around and leave… fuck Chrissy and fuck all of these people… but you had to do this for Eddie. You turned to the staircase facing the kitchen and pace up. Although it had been a long time since you had been in the Carver house, you still felt like you could clear the top floor in a good time. You past couples pressed against hallways and huddled into rooms. You hear giggles and beds creaking and girls crying, but no Chrissy.

You were ready to give up hope, having tried all of the door handles and being met with locked doors or your apologies for intruding. The last door at the end of the hallway opened as you went to reach for the door and you were met with the girl you had been searching for for the last ten minutes. Her eyes widened in horror and relief to see you. She looked like a mess. Her usually neat slicked ponytail was slated on the side of her head, flyaways crowning her. Her eyes were glazed over eyes were smudged black with mascara and eyeliner. Her flush in her cheeks made her intoxication very apparent and her lips were kiss-swollen and smudged. She sported one of Jason’s old Hawkins raglans in replacement of whatever tiny top she had worn to the party. You felt bad for her at first sight; pity running through your veins as her lips quivered. Her paused tears resumed as she wrapped you in a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming, Y/N. Thank you so much.” she sobbed.

“Yeah, Chris. This is fucked. Let’s go, okay?”

You guided the girl down the stairs and out of the house - refusing to look anywhere but the floor in case Jason returned to try and claim you as a prize again. Chrissy had blabbered nonsense all the way to the car while you tried to prevent her from going horizontal. You closed her door and paced back to your side of the car. You were greeted with silence and the smell of vodka.

“Who else, Chrissy?” you whispered.

“Wh-wha-”

“Who else did you fuck, Chrissy?!” you yelled, your eyes never left her figure, her eyes did not leave her feet.

“It was just Jason… tonight.”

“For fucks sake! Are you kidding me?”

“Can we just go? I know I’m a piece of shit okay? But some of us need the attention! Okay! I’m not alright with walking around feeling like I am fading away into no one and that no one cares who I am anymore! I want someone to look at me like other girls get looked at! I want to be like you where you can find other friends and you can go out and be effortlessly yourself and everyone loves you!” “What the FUCK are you talking about? You have a boyfriend, Chrissy. He should be the one that makes you feel like that. HE looks at you like that! He is the one that you should be loving because he loves you!” Chrissy let out a dry laugh.

“Oh come on now, Y/N you and I both know he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t look at me like that because he is too busy looking at you like that! You had me and you had him and it wasn’t good enough! So we both needed to settle for second best! And I am just not okay with being second best anymore!”

“You are the one that gave me up for all your popular friends, you and Eddie both chose each other over me! And look who is here picking up the pieces after you handed yourself out to the basketball team, and while your own fucking boyfriend traverses the streets of Hawkins because he has no idea where you are! I was fucking right. You both deserve each other.” You shoved your car into drive and rolled your car into the road. Chrissy silently sobbed while you focused your eyes on the night ahead of you.

Your ride was long and awkward. When you pulled up to your house, Chrissy seemed surprised.

“I can’t let you go back to your house like this, Chris. We need to get you cleaned up.” She nodded a silent thank you and the two of you retreated to the second floor of your house. You got Chrissy a change of clothes and a toothbrush while she was in the shower and put her alcohol drenched outdfit in the wash. You waited for her in your room. When she sheepishly entered, you gestured to the bed you had made for her on the floor. She settled into her blankets and an awkward silence covered you once again.

“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me… I don’t deserve it.”

“I know, Chrissy. But you need someone to help you make a couple good decisions tonight. That was a fucking mess, at Jason’s” You heard her breath catch in her throat. “You have to tell Eddie what’s been going on, Chrissy. And he’s going to hate you. But you can’t do that to him. You might not love him but you and I both know that he deserves better than this.”

“I know,” she conceded quietly. You laid your head on your pillow. Your alarm clock read 3:39am. You tossed and turned in your sleep all night, pictures of Eddie’s heartbroken face haunting your dreams.

You awoke to Chrissy folding blankets and stacking pillows onto your dresser.

“Hey, morning. How are you feeling?” you croaked.

“Well, I’m here and that’s a way better place than I thought I was going to be staying” Chrissy chuckled dryly. “Thank you again for last night, Y/N. I really owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it. I just hope that if the roles were reversed you would do the same for me.” The air between you seemed palpable, it reminded you of when Chrissy would be doing the very same thing after a weekend long sleepover. You both gave each other testing smiles and short giggles.

You dropped Chrissy off after stopping to get coffee for the two of you. Chrissy looked at you apologetically and unclasped her seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride” she offered

“Welcome. Good luck with Eddie” you mumbled. As badly as you felt for your old friend, you could not wait for her downfall. She didn’t deserve Eddie and he didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. But the light of old times seeping through the walls that you had rebuilt felt nice, even if it was artificial, fleeting. You flashed the girl a comforting smile.

“Thanks. I think I’m really going to need it. I really fucked up.” she looked down and began to pick at her nails.

“But this might be a learning lesson for you at least. I hate to say it but Karma can be a bitch sometimes.” you grab her wrist and squeeze. Your hands warm her veins and she relaxes into your touch. She pats you on the hand as she wriggles out of your car and trots to her door. She looks back at you before she closes the door behind you. She really stares into you as she raises a hand and waves. It was goodbye for good.

You got cut early from your shift at the video store.You were little to no help to the gorgeous head of hair working with you anyways. You tell Steve about your night, about Chrissy’s admissions and your call with Eddie. You were unsure of what your expectations were at this point. You call with Eddie shifted the dynamic of friendly strangers and you again found yourself battling between easy choices and choices that were good for you. Luckily for you, you were wasting time with Hawkin’s most eligible bachelor and love-life-advice solicitor.

“I don’t know, Y/N all I’m saying is there are so many guys in this town that would actually take you out and treat you right, you don’t deserve this shit” the boy quipped. You loved how honest Steve could be. He had quickly given you more examples of what a good friend looked like. “Like what about that Gareth kid?! Have you seen the way he looks at you? Worships the ground you walk on. Get a guy like that” Steve folds his hands on his hips. You scoff at him.

“Gareth and I are just friends. Trust me, we’ve gotten into all of that relationship stuff a long time before.” Steve’s eyes grew to saucers. You giggled. “It was one kiss this summer and both of us knew it wasn’t gonna happen, okay?” You rolled your eyes as you slid a box of freshly rewound tapes to him.

“Alright, alright - poor guy. I’m just saying. Munson? He should be old news. He and Chrissy deserve each other…”

“Maybe I should test drive a guy like you then, Harrington?” you sneered. He dropped the box, his back turned to you but you could tell his cheeks had flushed. “Or…Hargrove?”

“Hey!”

“Or-”

“Alright enough!” Steve chided. You suppressed your giggle. “You think you’re so funny, huh? I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“I know, Steve. Trust me, I wish I could move on. The two of them do deserve each other… But every time I think of them making up and going back to being good, it makes me want to rip my hair outI can’t stand it.”

“Damn kid. You really are down bad” Steve jabbed you in the side of the arm and you shrieked. “If you really feel that way then I guess you gotta let him know.”

“What if they do get back together and I laid it all out for nothing? Or what if I’m old news to him, Steve? I cant handle that…”

“Dude, if he makes the same mistake as he did at prom he won’t just have Gareth to deal with, okay? He’ll have me, Buckley and half of the Family Video clientele coming after him.” Steve glanced at the clock and gestured to the door. “Now get out of there and fix your bullshit life” he winks. Your smile lightens your whole face. You grab your bag from behind the counter and scurry out the door after planting a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He was left to the fluorescent aisles, shaking his head. You really did deserve better.

You pulled into your driveway, ready to spend the afternoon in Gareth’s backyard smoking weed and watching as many horror movies that you could before inevitably passing out. As you sauntered up to your door, you realized your plans for the day had been eviscerated. Sitting on your front step was a cardboard box that had been taped together neatly. Sitting on top of the box laid a note scrawled with purple ink:

“Y/N, I didn’t know who else to trust with this, and I am so sorry to ask.

Please take this box and give it to Eddie if you see him. I can’t bear to give it to him myself and I can’t tell anyone else about what I did.

Thank you for being such a good friend even when I didn’t deserve one.

Chrissy”

You let out a large sigh as you picked up the box and opened your door. You didn’t want to call Eddie, you were scared to find out how much he knew. Part of you wanted to leave the box on the doorstep for him to quietly pick up without notice, but you knew that your heart couldn’t handle knowing he was so close and you did nothing. So you picked up the receiver to your landline and dialed a familiar set of numbers.

“Hey champ! When you coming over?” A peppy boy answered.

“Hey, Gar. Something came up and I don’t think I can come over.”

“What did he do, Y/N?” Gareth’s tone hardened immediately. You could feel his anger radiating through the telephone.

“Nothing, it's more like what Chrissy did…” You spent the next half an hour telling Gareth about your encounters yesterday. Gareth huffed bitterly in response. Eddie Jeff and Gareth hadn’t been the same since their gig at the Hideout. Eddie began dodging band practice to be with Chrissy. He sacrificed DND campaigns and hellfire meetings to hide under the bleachers to go to the mall with Chrissy, or go to dinner with the jocks. Eddie became the most popular recluse. The three musketeers became strangers and the practices they had now - if any - were full of tension and unfamiliarity. Jeff and Gareth resented Eddie for the way his world revolved around Chrissy, and Eddie resented the two for not being happy for him, for not supporting him in what he wanted. In the middle was you. Eddie longed to be close to you again, but Jeff and Gareth refused to let him too close, you wouldn’t be hurt again, at least not on their watches. Although hostility ran high, all of you craved so much to be a group again, to be able to forgive and forget. But as all of you had figured out, that was much easier said than done.

“I’m coming over. I don’t want you to be alone when he shows up.”

“Gareth, I will be fine. I need to talk to him anyway” Your voice got quiet

“Talk to him about what?”

“I-I just need to know what happened between him and Chrissy. I need to know what that means for me, Gareth. I’m sick and tired of wondering if it could happen.”

“Y/N that’s a bad idea. We should just be done with him”

“I know, Gareth. He doesn’t deserve us. But I’m tired of being strong and stubborn. I just need to talk to him. I need to see him.” There was a silence over the phone. Gareth’ heart broke for you, but he knew that he couldn’t protect you from this.

“If anything happens, you give me a call and I will be over in 5 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” You chuckle.

“Hey, now! I mean it”

“Gareth?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you, you know?” there was a loud sigh over the phone.

“Yeah I know. I love you too.”

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

“It has to be.” With a click, you were left to listen to the dial tone. You place your phone down and get yourself ready. You didn’t know when Eddie would be over, but you wanted to prepare before he did.

You sat in the shower until the water ran cold. Your skin felt scrubbed free from any imperfection, but it felt tight with stress. You forced yourself to make food but could barely eat. The rest of your evening consisted of staring at the same open page in your book while reruns of Match Game bled through the living room. The sun had set, along with the hopes that you would get closure tonight. Later, you heard the rattle of an engine outside accompanied by the thrash of Ozzy Ozbourne. You shot off the couch and toed your way to the front door. On the other side, you could hear a cacophony of swears and pacing footsteps. A few moments later, three hesitant knocks on your door. You took a couple of breaths and turned the handle. You were greeted with a tousled mop of hair and fair skin. His jeans hung low on his hips and he wore a thinning band t-shirt. His pale arms gripped his shoulders, flashing patches of inky figures across his forearms. His face, usually soft and blushing, looked pale. Dark circles encapsulated his coffee coloured irises. His nose was red and his lip was quivering. As awful as he looked, he was so tragically beautiful, like a muse. His lips still puckered and dared you to dart out and kiss them. His frame towered over yours and threatened to encapsulate you whole. You wanted nothing more. You gripped the inside of your doorframe in grounding, afraid you were going to evaporate into the cooling evening.

“Eddie, Hi” You squeaked. The boy looked dully at you as you took in his appearance. “I-I saw Chrissy’s note… the box is just inside I’ll-” You turned to leave but Eddie’s sigh held you in place.

“Fuck the box, Y/N” Eddies voice was just above a whisper. It rattled as if he were scared that if he spoke too loudly, the whole world would collapse in on him. His eyes lined with tears again. “What happened last night?” He demanded.

“I found her at a party… she had called me and, well I couldn’t just leave her there so…I took her home with me and she told me she was a bad person…” your eyes were trained to the floor. “I took her home in the morning and then the box was waiting for me after work, so you might have to fill in the rest of the blanks for me.”

“She fucked me over. That’s what happened! She went out and she fucked half the basketball team while I fucking waited for her to come back into my fucking arms! I tried to give her everything but nothing was ever good enough!” Eddie seethed. “ ‘I need more attention, Eddie’ or, ‘come out to this party, Eddie’ ‘ I want to do this instead, Eddie.’ ‘Why aren't you more like Jason, Eddie?’ FUCK I should have fucking known better, but I’m the fucking freak, I don’t get what I want. I don’t deserve to be happy because this is partially my fault too…” Eddie fisted at his hair while he paced on your front step.

“Eddie. I don’t know what to say-”

“You don’t need to say anything but I told you so. That’s what I fucking deserve. You shouldn’t be sitting here pitying me. You should be laughing at me” Eddie whimpered. You had never seen him so small, so fragile. You wanted to rub the tension out of his shoulders and kiss his furrowed brows until he looked like your Eddie again.

“Yeah but I’m not because I care about you Eddie.” You reach out to touch him but he pulls away like you burned him. “I’m really fucking sorry that this happened. No matter what I think of you, you don’t deserve this.” Eddie stopped in his tracks and trained his eyes on your meek figure. You shuddered when you looked up and made eye contact with him. Your eyes were wet and his eyes were pools of sorrow, But his gaze held a foreign glimmer to them. You let Eddie study you in silence.

“What can I do to make it better?”

“I… I don’t know, Eddie. That might be a conversation to have with Chrissy and you-”

“I’m not talking about me and Chrissy.” Eddie held his gaze on you as he stepped closer to you. He smelt of weed, beer and cheap aftershave.

“Eddie-”

Swiftly, the boy grabbed your cheeks and collapsed into you, smashing his lips with yours. As much as your brain screamed at you to push him off, your bones melted in with his, finally giving into the temptation that your body so desperately craved since your kiss in the theatre. Eddie’s weight moved you backwards into your house and he closed the door behind him. His hands migrated down your torso to your waist as he spun you to pin you back up against your front door. You moaned into his mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. Your hands found their way to Eddie’s chest and you gripped his shirt. He was shaking. It felt like there were only two of you. Kissing Eddie was the most natural thing to happen. Every move he made, your body had the perfect response. He gripped your hips as you slid your hands around his neck into his hair, earning a moan from the metalhead. A pit in your stomach formed at his lips vibrating against yours and you thought your legs would give out. Eddie pressed his body deeper into yours and you swore you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest. As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, you pulled yourself away from him, his eyes still closed and lips slightly parted, also very much in shock as to what had just happened. You gaze up at him as tears unwillingly spill down your cheeks. A mortified expression painted Eddie’s face, immediately thinking that he had overstepped again. He waited for a slap to the face or for you to push him away and begin yelling. But you looked up at him through your glassy eyes and his heart backflipped. His hands returned to your cheeks, thumbs desperately swiping at your tears.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie, we can’t lie to each other. You and I both know I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time” a sad smile crept across your face.

“Fuck. I’ve been doing this wrong the whole time. I’ve wanted you this whole time, Y/N. This whole time, not a day has gone by where I wish I could go back to prom night and make the right choice. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I accept your apology, Eddie. But I don’t forgive you” Eddie’s heart sank. The flush he had earned left his face. His hands dropped to your wrists and he gripped tightly, like he was afraid you were going to disappear in front of him. “Not now at least. You fucked me up, Eddie. I waited for you and I watched you break my heart, and I will not be anyone’s second best ever again. I won’t be your second place again.” Eddie shook his head in understanding.

“What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”

“You can work on how to make good choices again, Ed. Be my friend first. Prove to me you deserve that. Because I am not okay with being a rebound either. Prove to me you want me and this isn’t just a way to get over Chrissy, because my heart can’t take it.” you sob into him and he wraps you into a hug.

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s you. It’s always been you, and I will spend the rest of my days proving how much I need you.”

“Okay, Eddie. I believe you.” You pull away from him and step away from him. “But we can’t do that again.” You both were too afraid to say anything more, so you stood in silence, taking in each others’ space. Eddie then reached for the door.

“I, I should really go, I guess. I’m not sorry for kissing you, but I’m really sorry if it upset you.” You grab the hand that Eddie had on your front door.

“Eddie, I know you aren’t exactly sober right now, or in the right state of mind to really be alone. So as your friend, I would really like it if you stayed here tonight, so I know that you’re okay.”

“As a friend?”

You nodded firmly.

“I would really like that,” Eddie smiled softly at you.

“Let’s go put a movie on and try and get some sleep.” You grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him up to your bedroom. Eddie climbed onto your bed as you leaned over your TV and punched in The Shining. You joined Eddie on the bed, both of you under the farthest edges of the blanket, too scared to cross a thin boundary that had been set.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Ed?”

“I was wondering If I- If It would be okay, could I maybe hold you?” Eddie murmured into his lap that he was staring at. “I just feel really cold. I don’t mean anything by it I promise. I just need… to feel something good.”

Wordlessly, you shuffled over to the middle of the bed. Eddie followed suit. You slid down so your head leaned on his chest, his arm draped down your back, his fingers drew circles on your hip. Your arm wrapped around him as a silent reassurance that you were not going anywhere. The steady pounding of Eddie’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest quickly lulled you to sleep. Eddie spent next to no time watching Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, too busy studying every detail of your body that he could see. As he heard your soft sighs signaling you had fallen asleep, he silently cried into your temple.

Eddie Munson knew he was an idiot, that he fucked up. As much as his heart broke, he couldn’t help but be willing to break it over and over again if it meant that he got to call you his one day.

taglist: @mxcheese @anislabonis-love @zenathebeautiful @h-ness1944 @nymphetkoo @tlclick73 @darknesseddiem @nega-omega @them-cute-boys @eggo-segual @browneyes528 @ali-r3n @micheledawn1975 @partydulce @eddies-puppet @elvendria @itsjustwous @littlemisslovestoread @kjcmama @chloe-6123 @navs-bhat @loveforreading @thegirlthatsfalling @metalhead-succubus @moth-maam56 @ohmeg @secretdryrose @cloudroomblog @harmfulb1tch @buckybarnessweetheart @littlelunarfox @duncanhillscoffeecups @deathnote6666 @fangirling-galore @eddiesguitarskills @alexa4040 @arsonfrogger@sleepydragonx @batkin028 @eddiemunsonsgf22 @stairwaytozai@littlestarfighter03 @kimmi-kat@bleachbetch@sashaphantomhive@maybeitsthemoon @sluggzillaa @siriuslysmoking @littleesilvia @munsonssecretblog@dreamerjj @goth-cowgirl-03@middle-of-the-earth @idkatee@animechick555@hargrovesswifee@fall-myriad@foreveranexpatsposts

884 notes · View notes

wutheringcaterpillar · 3 months

Text

Remember That Night? Chapter 1/4

Summary: What happens when your boss whom your head over heels for calls you in the middle of the night to go for a drive and things go further than they should? Will they make it work or will it end in tragic heartache?

warnings: boss/employee relationship, nostalgia, deep descriptions of heartbreak

italicized is past tense.

The case files spread out across your desk were all mixing together in a blur. It felt like there was no end to it and this was the one you thought was gonna stick with you. The rest of the team had left except for Aaron. He was sitting in his own office looking for anything that could stand out exactly like you were.

Glancing up you saw his eyes scanning the papers intently with one hand resting on his forehead. In your heart you missed the bond that you shared with him deeply but the chances of anything happening again were close to zero and it made your heart ache to think that he’d never be yours.

A few months after Haley passed Aaron was having a night just like the one you’re having now and he needed closure. The night still replayed in your mind at moments like this but you’re okay now. It had been five months since the two of you cut whatever connection you had romantically off. You’ve moved on and entered the dating world, it was for the better. Closing the case files you began to put them back in order and erase the case from your mind for the night. Right when you were about ready to get up and head out Aaron approached you at your desk and sat down in a chair across from you. “It’s late. Every one else went home hours ago. Everything okay?” His intent gaze stared deep into your eyes but you didn’t allow yourself to get lost in him. “Yeah, I just don’t understand how some people can be so cruel. I think this is the one that’s gonna stick with me and it worries me but, I know I need to get home and get rest.”

“Y/N, you know I’m always here if you need to talk or vent.” You nodded in response. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, you couldn’t help but see him twiddle his thumbs a bit, it looked as if he was in deep thought, his eyebrows were knitted together like they always were when he was like this. “What about you? Are you okay? Everything going well with Beth?” He stopped all movement and his eyes connected with yours once more. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m an open book ask away.” He shifted in his chair, leaning forward a bit. “Do you remember that night? The first night?” All of a sudden the memory came flooding back like hurricane.

The night was beautiful out, a clear sky, twinkling stars, streetlights lit up the roads just outside of your apartment. The vacation you were currently on from work was much needed, thoughts of Aaron filled your mind at times. You couldn’t imagine how he was coping, being a single father, going to sleep in a bed without his wife. It had to have been difficult, you knew the crush you had on him was silly and that it would never go anywhere but you couldn’t help the feelings you had for this man.

Settling down onto your couch you turned on the television to catch up on one of your favorite shows, avoiding the news at all costs you wanted all crime to be out of your head for your entire week off. Cracking open a beer you grabbed a blanket and settled it over your legs. About halfway into the episode your phone rang causing a groan to escape your lips but your heart fluttered when you saw it was Aaron. What could he possibly need it was 2:30 am. “Hello?”

“Hi. I’m sorry to be calling you this late I hope I didn’t wake you.” When he spoke he sounded like he hadn’t slept yet and that he may have been having a bad night. “No, you’re okay. Is everything alright?”

“Y/N I just really need someone right now. I hate to bother you on your vacation but would you like to go for a drive? If you’re too tired I understand.” You couldn’t help but respond as quickly as you did, this is the moment you had been waiting for. “I’m all for it. What’d you have in mind?” You couldn’t see it but Aaron was smiling on the other end of the phone. “I know a place.”

For the fifteen minutes it took him to get there you didn’t want to get too dressed up, it was the middle of the night after all. You left your sweats on but changed into a snug fitted shirt before brushing your hair and throwing on a pair of tennis shoes. Water was splattered on the bathroom sink from you washing your face and brushing your teeth to disintegrate the alcohol smell on your tongue. When you heard the knock on your door your heart skipped a beat. Glancing at yourself one last time in the mirror a big bright excited smile took over your flushed face. Your mind guessing where he would take you as you walked to answer the door.

On the other side Aaron stood there also dressed in sweats and a t-shirt he looked absolutely breathtaking even out of his suit. His hair was slightly disheveled and when he spoke “Hello” to you the small dimples next to his lips formed from a smile. Aside from that you were completely locked in and lost in his eyes, he was really here. “So are you ready?” You nodded in response and he moved out of your way to excuse you into the hallway. “So where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Once outside he opened your car door for you like a gentleman before getting into his own side. The way his hands curled over the steering wheel and his veins popped out sent so many thoughts swirling in your mind. The car ride was filled with endless conversation, mostly him asking about your vacation and you asking how the team has been doing but neither of you talked about any cases past or present. It was nice.

He maneuvered his car into a parking lot, there was a hill toward the top of it, looking like it would be overlooking something.

Once out of the car the wind blew slightly causing leaves to flutter around, he noticed you cross your arms together. “Are you cold? I have an extra jacket in the car if you’d like it. I keep it in there for Jack because he tends to cold with how much I use the air conditioning.” A small chuckle escaped your lips. “No, it’s okay, it feels-“ Before you could finish your sentence he was opening the back car door and pulling out one of his gray zip up hoodies. “I insist.” As if you weren’t trying to hide your blushing cheeks enough they surely came out now.

Putting on the jacket, Aaron stood by your side as you walked up the small hill. When you reached the top there was a single bench looking over a sea of water. “I know it’s not much but this is where I tend to go when I need to think.”

“Aaron this is- this is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you agree.” He patted the bench, motioning for you to sit with him. The both of you sat in silence for a few moments just listening to the waves hitting the shoreline and the breeze causing leaves to fall from the tree and dance in the surrounding area. Small clouds were starting to roll over in the sky. In that moment you felt Aaron’s arm slide behind you, pulling you in a bit closer to him, his hand resting on your upper arm. As close as you were, you wanted to be closer, wanted to be snuggling with him but you didn’t put any pressure on it and just took the moment in to yourself, thankful that this was happening. “So is Jack with Jess tonight?” Aaron nodded in response.

“He is. Had the house to myself was feeling lonely and even though it’s been a month since Haley has passed it still manages to bother me at times like tonight. I’m really glad you came with me.” He looked over his shoulder at you taking in your beauty and you did the same taking in how handsome he was. “Me too.” The two of you gazed into each others eyes searching for someone to make a move, you both leaned in simultaneously and your lips smashed together in an electrifying kiss. His lips were extremely soft, tasting of mint and had taken your breath away. Neither of your eyes had opened during the kiss. His free hand rested gently against your cheek deepening the kiss. At that moment little sprinkles landed on the top of your head but neither of you had a care in the world. When the kiss finally broke a part of the strong feelings you had for him came out. “Would you maybe want to stay with me tonight at my place?” His eyes glistened in the rain. “I’d love nothing more.”

The night consisted of gentle spontaneous love making and you fell asleep in the arms of the man you had loved for so long more than anything, it was perfect.

He knew he had hit a nerve with your blank expression, but some part of him was just curious if you ever thought about it? “I um- I do but I try not to. No offense. It’s just I finally have moved past us and the future is looking great for me but Aaron you know I still-“

“I know, you don’t have to say it.” He spoke so gently and his face was of pure care and solidity. “I still do too.” His hand rested on yours for a few seconds as you both just sat in each others company. There was something about him that still had a hold of you, a place in your heart and just when you think you could replace it you have a moment like this with him. Every thing in you wanted to quit on the spot just so you could have him but you knew in your head that things don’t work out like that. He got up from his chair and offered to follow you home to ensure you make it there safely but you politely declined. That was when your phone rang. “Hi- Yeah I’m headed home I’ll be there in a bit- I miss you too- Okay- Bye.” Aaron wanted to ask who it was but he had no right to and he knew that so he let it be. “I will see you in the morning then?” You nodded before bidding each other goodbye once again. It shouldn’t but it felt like the first time, like you lost him again.

Arriving home you threw your keys onto the table and kissed your boyfriend whom was staying for the night he noticed the pained look on your face, the sadness that filled it. “Every thing okay babe? What’s wrong?” He took you into his arms as you cried, letting every thing out. You couldn’t love someone else the way you loved Aaron, this unexplainable connection you shared with him killed you after moments the two of you shared like tonight. If he had never brought up that night you would have been fine, but he did and here you were crying over Aaron Hotchner once again, just as you were getting back to life without him in it. You ended up telling your boyfriend it was the case you were on which wasn’t fair by any means, but as he drifted into sleep next to you, you couldn’t help but look at him and get upset. He wasn’t Aaron. No one was. That was when the night he broke it off entered into your mind.

“Y/N I’m your boss and we’re getting too close. I think it’s better that this is the last night we share together in this way. We need to stop.” It felt like a tidal of waves crashed into your heart and completely shattered it. All happiness in your face disappeared. This was the last thing you expected to happen tonight.

You sulked in your seat, tracing your thumb around the salted rim of your glass. His eyes searched your facial expression, being a profiler you knew he was reading you like a book. His hand moved a strand of hair from your face, placing it behind your ear. “Please don’t be upset. We’ll still be close, and see each other at work but I think that’s where it should stay.” A scoff escaped your lips, shaking your head you grabbed your glass and finished off the remaining alcohol before aggressively setting it back down.

“Yeah, well not as close as I’d like.”

“ Y/N-“

“Just don’t.” When you stood up out of your chair you fell back a bit and the grip of Aaron’s hand was on your arm gently right away. “At least let me drive you home you can’t drive like this.” Putting your hand up you dismissed him completely. “I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning, boss.” Walking out of the restaurant the rain poured as if it knew how you were feeling. As soon as you were out the door away from him the tears flooded out as you walked to your car. How could he do this to you? All the dates, the phone calls, the photos, they were completely meaningless. You read him all wrong, this situation all wrong. You were head over heels in love with Aaron and you thought he felt the same. Reaching into your purse you retrieved the first keychain he had bought you, and threw it into a bush by the entrance. You wanted anything and everything that reminded you of him gone. The car ride home felt like it was never ending. The rain made it difficult to see and the only songs on the radio were depressing love songs about heartache. Walking into your apartment you tossed your keys onto the table before turning on the lights and setting the alarm.

Making your way into your bedroom you glanced around the room, you thought to yourself how your never going to be graced with Aaron’s face or presence in it ever again. Falling into your bed you clutched your pillow tightly tears flowing out like an ocean while his side of the bed lay empty. A hole in your heart is all that you felt, you couldn’t even imagine having to see him at work tomorrow. You could just see yourself excusing yourself to go cry somewhere. You really thought he could be the one but all hope of that had vanished. The next morning your tear stained face made you look a mess your clothes were disheveled, hair a mess but you couldn’t find a care in the world. You wanted to walk into work and make him see what he did to you. The buzzing of your phone dragged you out of your thoughts. A voicemail notification from Aaron popped up. As much as your head told you not to listen to it your heart spoke differently. “Hi, I wanted to make sure you got home safely and that you’re doing okay. If you could let me know that’d be great but if not I’ll see you at work. I truly hope there’s no hard feelings Y/N. Well I guess that’s all goodbye.” How dare he, no hard feelings? Does he not realize how much he broke you? You wanted to throw your phone and cry again but you decided to keep yourself composed and get ready for work and head in. Of course Aaron ended up calling in because Jack got sick, and he did text you about it but you reluctantly responded with, “I don’t think we should text or call anymore about anything personal. Strictly work.” He hadn’t responded for hours and the day completely dragged out you couldn’t focus and the team took notice especially Emily and Spencer because they were the closest to you but you didn’t tell them anything about your situation just that you were having a bad day. They were understanding and said they would be there whenever you’re ready to talk about it. When you went home for the night digging for clean clothes you found one of Aaron’s work shirts in your hamper, it must have been the only one not washed because it still smelled exactly like him. As much as your head told you not to put it on your heart spoke differently. As soon as you slipped it on the tears began again and you just spent the night in your apartment alone, sulking, listening to sad music, watching sad movies, cooking dinner for one, yourself. Things were different and you hated it, your body hated it, and you barely knew how to function mentally, physically, and emotionally. Was there ever going to be an end to this pain?

Little did you know Aaron did follow you home to make sure you got there safely, you didn’t put any thought into the car following you because all your thoughts were about Aaron. He watched and made sure you got in the door but to his surprise a man opened the door and he was ready to get out of his car to come protect you until he stopped with his door halfway opened as he saw you kiss the man. You had moved on, but you were unaware of the fact that Aaron had gotten the papers for his two weeks and had broken up with Beth a week ago. That’s why he never answered how she was earlier because he hadn’t been talking to her. He couldn’t be upset but he was and it was completely selfish. So against his will he drove home, to an empty apartment like before and went to sleep in an empty bed, holding onto the memory of you being next to him as he cried and held onto a shirt you left at his apartment that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of.

#Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #ranaewrites

182 notes · View notes

hellfirenacht · 3 months

Text

Wing Man Part 7

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6)

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜

The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.

Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.

Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.

For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.

Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.

It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.

“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.

Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.

It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.

“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.

For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?

Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.

Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).

To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.

That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.

“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.

“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”

“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.

“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”

“I haul my own drumset every week!”

“Can we get back to the game?”

“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”

So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.

He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.

“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.

“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?

“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.

“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”

The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?

Oh. Oh what the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.

That had never stopped him from trying though.

“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”

This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.

“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.

“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.

“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”

Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?

And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?

“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”

You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?

“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.

“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.

Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.

“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.

“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”

“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.

Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.

You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-

“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”

“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?

Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.

Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”

Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.

“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”

“I have dark vision!”

Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.

When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.

He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.

Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.

Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-

No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.

It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.

Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.

“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.

The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.

“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”

It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.

Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.

“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.

“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.

“Yeah.”

It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”

“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.

“I guess.” he shrugged.

“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.

“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”

“But she likes you.”

“Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.

“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”

Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”

“They liked her too.”

“More than the California girl?”

The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.

Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...

It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.

“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-

But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-

“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.

“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”

“So ask her on a date.”

“What?”

“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”

Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.

“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”

“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”

Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.

He wanted to call you.

He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.

Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.

It rang once.

Twice.

Six times.

No response.

“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.

It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.

Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.

There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.

So he drove to Family Video.

If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.

At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?

Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.

The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.

He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.

Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.

He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.

“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.

Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.

Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.

Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.

Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.

---

Comments and Reblogs help feed the fandom and the muse 💜

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag list: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher

#Nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #wing man

175 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 5 months

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him.

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true.

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks.

Foggy dislocated his shoulder.

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act.

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital.

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him.

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips.

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on.

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought.

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence.

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say.

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why?

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask.

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet.

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says.

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind.

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real.

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says.

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further.

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go.

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort.

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about.

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot.

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself.

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise.

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?”

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.”

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing.

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier.

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor.

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin.

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry.

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help.

“It’s fine,” he assures you.

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.”

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier.

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes.

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do.

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie.

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for.

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers.

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.”

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye.

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running.

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

219 notes · View notes

sydnikov · 1 year

Note

saw you were asking about requests and if that’s still the case: something hurt/comfort where the reader is comforting svech when he finds out he has have to surgery, and helping him through the recovery process.

either established relationship or a feelings realization maybe? whatever you’re most comfortable with.

In Five || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov/Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Cursing (mild this time), sports injury (torn ACL/ligament), steamy kissing, bad proofreading, so much angst, but don’t worry there’s fluff at the end

A/N: I really tortured myself writing this. The emotions are still high, I hate the Bruins (sorry Bruins followers), and I hope you guys get all the feels as you read this. In all seriousness though, THANK YOU to whoever sent this in because it got me out of my writer’s block. (p.s. I’ve now opened requests to get me more inspired… so go submit stuff!!) anyways, I hope y’all enjoy 😁

It wasn’t bad. Not at first glance—at least that’s what you told yourself from the stands, clenching your fingers so hard they left nail indentations in the middle of your palms.

But you knew. You knew your best friend because you could read him like a book. Every twitch of the eye, a quirk of his lips, they all were a glimpse into his mind of what he was thinking. Andrei is your favorite book, and you just reached the chapter where everything starts to fall apart.

He was trying to hide it, the pain he was feeling from the quick stumble he took at center ice. It was just a small muscle pull, though, right? That’s what you thought, but then you saw him skate to the bench, favoring his right knee with the expression of one who knew he messed up.

Andrei played the rest of the game, but as you headed down to the locker room you couldn’t fight the feeling of dread steadily creeping up your heart.

“Hey,” you greeted a few of the girls leaning against the wall, waiting for their significant others to finish interviews. You were sort of an outcast in that manner, because Andrei wasn’t yours… No matter how much you wanted him to be. “Has he come out yet?” you asked.

The solemn shake of their heads gave you your answer, and you didn’t even bother trying to hide your worry when you leaned back against the wall with them, anxiously chewing your lip. The time came and went, seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to an hour of watching the other Hurricanes players come and go—none of them the man you wanted, no needed to see.

It was times like these where you questioned how you got here, waiting on Andrei like a girlfriend but being firmly stuck in the friend zone. He had never made you feel like anything less because of it, but you felt it aching in your very bones when he’d flash a smile to the girls at the bars you frequented, or when he’d ask you whether the blue shirt or the red shirt would look better on a date with the cute girl he met at a shopping mall.

It was funny, too, because you hadn’t met him any differently than he’s met the other girls he’s taken out. It was at a bar, actually, one in downtown Raleigh not too far of a drive from PNC Arena, and you were nursing a drink with a few friends from work when the place exploded in activity because players from the Carolina Hurricanes had just arrived.

You didn’t ask “who?” like one of your coworkers asked, because you loved hockey and went to a decent amount of games, and you could confidently answer which player had which number. In one game you’d even managed to snag glass seats, and that had been the best night of your life.

Never had you actually met any of the players, though. Odd, considering you had always made it a habit to go out at least once on the weekends, but one fateful Saturday night was when you finally were able to get a good look at the players outside of their hockey uniforms. You were content to merely watch them from a distance, but soon you realized they were just like any other regular bar patrons and soon lost interest in eyeing them a few tables back.

It was as you were ordering another drink that you caught from the corner of your eyes a body settling down on your right, too close to be convenient because there were other open seats far from you. You hadn’t been looking for a hookup that night, though, so you figured playing hard-to-get might ward off any men looking for a quick one-night stand.

“Hi,” the man suddenly spoke, accent too thick to be attributed to intoxication. A foreigner? You met his eyes, your gaze colliding with warm brown that reminded you of the hot chocolate you’d buy to keep your hands warm in the winter. “Drink not up to standards?” he said, leaning against the bar counter to get a better look at you.

Your brain had short-circuited, because wow this guy was good-looking, and it only took another minute of analyzing his features with your tipsy brain to realize you were talking to Andrei Svechnikov, or rather, he was talking to you.

“Not much of a drinker to begin with.” you had replied smoothly, shocking even yourself because talking to attractive men had never been a strong suit. “What about you? What do you drink?”

You and Andrei, who had later introduced himself and to which you responded with a cheeky quirk of your lips, “I know”, had hit it off immediately. You talked for hours that night, unable to shake the undeniable chemistry you had between you until one of your friends ran into you slurring her words and stumbling in place that signaled your outing time was up.

You exchanged numbers that night, and unbeknownst to either of you, your hearts were beating in tandem for days after, and brains spiraling with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I think they like me’. Unfortunately… It had never gone beyond that, because communication was hard to begin with for Andrei without the added challenge of having to speak English, and well–past relationships have made it a little hard for you to put your trust in people.

So, here you were. Confidently able to say that Andrei was one of your closest friends who you just so happened to be in love with, but knowing it would never go beyond that. You’d rather have Andrei in your life as a friend than not at all, right?

That’s what you told yourself when you finally heard the familiar sound of Andrei’s deep voice from the locker room, coming closer and closer as the distance between you decreased.

“No, no,” Andrei said, firmly, finally making his appearance. “No hospital. I feel fine.”

“Son, you’re favoring your knee. You need to go, now.” Head Coach Rod Brind’Amour marched in right behind the left winger. “I let you wait out the rest of the game, that’s what we agreed.”

Andrei remained in place, stubbornly glaring at the older man with the two looking like raging bulls getting ready to charge the other.

“‘Drei?” you finally found the courage to speak, hesitantly stepping forward and breaking the heated glare between the two men. You didn’t even notice until now that the athletic trainer was waiting behind them, phone held to his ear. “What’s going on?”

Immediately, the Russian’s eyes whipped towards you and he stepped back from Rod immediately. He said your name in slight confusion, even embarrassment at being caught in the metaphorical pissing match between him and his coach.

“I—” he licked his lips, struggling to find the words in English. “My knee. It is… Messed up.”

“Messed up?” you said. “What do you mean?”

That’s when Rod popped in. “He took a bit of a stumble on the ice, it didn’t look too serious at first but his knee is hurting.” He turned to glare at Andrei. “He can barely stand on it.”

Andrei clenched his jaw, attempting to shift his weight onto his right knee, but he could barely manage to stand before his face twisted up in pain and he had to use the wall to balance himself.

You stepped up to the Russian, worriedly wringing your hands together before stilling them to grab your stubborn friend's arm. “You’re too stubborn for your own good,” you smiled wryly, attempting to mask your worry with a small tease.

Andrei towered over you, but his size had always made you feel safe rather than scared, and that applied to now, roo. “I am fine, darling,” he murmured the pet name in Russian, his voice matching the softness of his eyes he could never hide when looking at you. Sometimes he’d speak in his native tongue in front of you because he knew you didn’t understand, and the scowl on your face afterward always made him laugh.

But, even though he was definitely not fine, he could barely take having to bother his teammates and coaches with his issues, nonetheless you. He didn't want you to see him so weak, at least not like this.

“My knee is just stiff. Sore.” he shot a look towards Rod, who up until this moment had been staring at the wall to give the two of you privacy. “It is not that bad, I am sure of it.”

“Then you’ll go to the hospital to get it checked out since it’s ‘not that bad’.” Rod deadpanned, finally breaking the bubble of tension that always seemed to surround you and Andrei when together.

“I agree with him, Andrei,” you said, placing another hand on his arm to gain his attention. “You need to get it looked at, at the very least.”

You gave him your best puppy eyes, peering up at him as he stood over you. You could see the hesitation on his face, knowing his protesting was mostly because he hated bothering others with his problems.

“If not for your career, do it for me?” you said, attempting to bring back his smile by poking him in the chest. “Please?”

A moment of silence, you staring at Andrei and Andrei staring at you…

“—fine.”

He agreed, but his knee was not fine as he said it was. It was bad because it wasn’t actually his knee that had been causing his pain, but rather a torn ligament connected to the knee that turned out to be the ACL in his right leg.

And Andrei was devastated. You weren’t allowed to be in the room with him while they checked him out because he needed an MRI, but Martin and Seth were and it was them who came up to you in the hallway, grim looks on their faces as they broke the news. You could hear the raised voices of both Andrei and Brind’Amour shouting from the room.

You couldn’t see Andrei’s face, but you felt your heart breaking for him anyways as the doctor probably told him how long his recovery would take, the physical therapy he would need to endure, and the amount of time he wouldn’t be able to play hockey for.

“Nine months,” Andrei said, angrily typing away on his phone to his brother, Evgeny, probably. “Maybe six if I am lucky.”

You remained silent, watching him from the kitchen counter at a loss for words. You had offered to drive Andrei home, unofficially taking on the role of caretaker since Martin lived with his girlfriend and Seth was, well… Seth.

Andrei was on the couch, dressed in an old Hurricanes hoodie with shorts, his right leg propped up on a stool wrapped in a temporary cast. His face was flushed, and his hair messy from all the times he had run his hands through it. You knew he was in pain, both mentally and physically, but it really was unfair how he still managed to look so attractive all throughout.

Leg cast and all included.

“Is that what the doctor said?” you asked, finally gaining the courage to speak as you crossed the room. You carefully sat on the couch next to him, not wanting to jostle his leg.

The Russian dropped his phone on his lap, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes before gazing at you with determination. “Yes. But I’m going to be better in five.”

You finally cracked a smile, there’s the ‘Drei you knew and loved, your first one since hearing the news and bringing him back to his house. Andrei couldn’t help but grin, feeling the fondness for you in his heart grow. You were so good to him, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his feelings to himself while you stayed with him.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t mind having you stay with him for the rest of the year, though. Andrei was selfish, and he was also possessive, so he liked having you to himself. He considered Martin and Seth and Sebastian his good friends, his teammates, his bros if you will, but you were his. His best friend, his best girl—you were the only one he wanted, and maybe this new living situation would give him the opportunity to finally tell you.

Andrei just hoped you felt the same. He wouldn’t be able to stand losing you because he couldn’t keep his heart under control.

“Well, you know I’ll be here to help you get through it.” You stated with conviction, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze and your heart beating all the while.

You held your unspoken promise, especially on the day of his surgery a little less than a week after his prognosis. It was an early surgery on a Thursday morning, and you even called off work so you could be at the hospital with him when he woke up.

You already knew most of your friends and family were wondering why you were putting so much effort into caring for someone who was just a friend, and if you were being honest you didn’t have much of an answer to give them. They had a point after all, right?

You and Andrei were just friends. That was it. You may be in love with him (now more than ever), and you definitely omitted that little detail during past conversations, but still. Friends move in with each other to help recover from big injuries all the time.

This time with Andrei was no different, and you had to repeat this mantra over and over again in your head as the anesthesia slowly wore off and his eyes were so soft and droopy, mumbling his words and his accent was thicker than ever and your heart was beating so fast it was going to jump out of your chest–

“Thank you for being here with me,” Andrei slurred, gazing up at you with those warm, half-lidded eyes.

You grabbed his hand, gently, lacing your fingers together and squeezing once. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Andrei squeezed back once before losing consciousness, his eyes closing and his head lolling back against the pillow. “That’s normal, right?” You asked the nurse, who was busy writing on a clipboard. She only had to look up once to take in the situation before responding.

“Everyone responds to anesthesia differently. Your boyfriend is just one of many who has to sleep it off.”

You felt your stomach drop, your eyes widening only slightly at the nurse’s casual use of ‘boyfriend’. Of course, that’s what you and your best friend must have looked like to her, right? You, holding Andrei’s hand, and he gazing up at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

It was probably just the drugs in his system. Definitely.

Andrei was cleared to leave the hospital the next day, and you heard the news from the group chat you, Martin, and Seth were in. It was comically titled, ‘Andrei’s bobble-leg’, courtesy of Seth, of course, and it was essentially just the three of you coordinating who has Andrei duty on the days you weren’t able to be with him.

Unfortunately, the day he was able to go home was the day you had to be back at work, so Martin and Seth left their morning skate early to drive him home. And so, here you were now, finally off from work and driving down Capital Blvd road to Andrei’s home.

Martin, Seth, and surprisingly quite a few of the players were already there when you arrived. You knocked on the front door before letting yourself in, curiosity written all over your face as you walked closer to all the noise.

Happy shouts of your name rang across the room when you appeared in the doorway, and your face flushed red in embarrassment at all the eyes suddenly upon you. “Hey guys,” you said, eyes scanning around the room looking for the only man you really cared about.

Finally, you found him. Andrei was seated on his couch, leg safely propped up on the ottoman and wrapped in tight bandages and a brace. He had an Xbox controller in his hand, the video game he was previously playing on pause.

“How was work?” Sebastian asked from the right of Andrei, also holding a controller. There were several bags of chips laid out across the ottoman, and both men were currently snacking.

It was probably against their diet, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell them that, especially Andrei.

“Work,” you finally responded, rather dry. Most of the population, including you, unfortunately, were not lucky enough to play the sport they loved as their job.

A few chuckles and about an hour later, everyone began packing up to leave. Somehow, you had gravitated toward Andrei during this time of catching up with his teammates and ended up on the couch next to him, on his left. His arm was casually strewn across the back of the couch, fingertips playing with the ends of your hair and occasionally brushing against your neck, sending shivers up your spine.

You liked to pretend it was just you harboring feelings for him sometimes because it was less scary, but every day that fantasy was getting harder and harder to live… Especially when you would turn your head to catch a peek at his side profile, and he was already staring as if knowing the effect he had on you.

“How’s your leg feeling?” You asked once you heard the front door shut, signaling the exit of the last guest. It was silent other than the TV playing softly in the background, it having changed from Call of Duty to a rerun of Friends some time ago.

Andrei sighed, attempting to hide his emotional turmoil with a smile. Bringing his arm down from the back of the couch, he tentatively rested it on your shoulders, gauging your reaction before bringing you to his side. He’s been an affectionate person since you first met him, so you were used to the random hand-holding or hugs, but it still never failed to make you long for something more.

He patted his leg gently, careful not to disturb it from where it rested. “Hurts. But that is to be expected, no?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it can’t suck.” You said, your voice nothing more than a murmur. You rested your head against his shoulder, tugging at a loose string on one of your sleeves.

The hockey player didn’t respond, instead, he placed one of his big hands on your shoulder and squeezed, a sign he at least heard your attempt at reassurance. Time passed quickly like this; Friends continued playing, as did your position tucked into Andrei’s side.

You felt at peace, and while he didn’t say it with words you could tell the Russian beside you felt the same. Hopefully, the next few months of healing will just fly by.

And they did, at first. But even though the Carolina Hurricanes were missing one of their star players, the games must go on. His teammates went out on the ice, each and every one of them feeling Andrei’s absence keenly.

You felt it too, as the Boston Bruins scored their fourth and final goal of the night, winning the game in a shootout. The hope immediately dissipated within your chest and in rose frustration and disappointment to take its place, but you were sure that was nothing compared to what Andrei was feeling beside you.

The entirety of the game, your hand was wrapped in Andrei’s, his squeezing down when the Bruins scored their first goals in regulation and releasing to clap when we were finally able to tip the puck in. Then the team came back in the third period—you weren’t sure what Brind’Amour had said to the boys during the second intermission, but whatever he said had worked.

The Hurricanes had been controlling the puck in the Bruins’ zone, something they had failed to do in the first two periods. They were passing, aiming, shooting, scoring, first by Skjei in the corner of the net and then by Aho on a tight pass from Martinook that slipped right past Swayman’s shoulder.

It was looking so good because Andersen had finally gotten his head in the game and the defense had stepped up, but then we went past overtime scoreless, and then to the fateful shootout.

You had felt the anxiousness from every fan in the arena. If anyone was an avid Hurricanes watcher, including you, they knew shootouts had never been this hockey team’s strong suit.

Andrei’s frustration was palpable next to you. His left leg was bouncing up and down for the entirety, and you could see the muscles tensing and untensing in his right leg as if he had wanted to move. It only got worse when Brind’Amour sent Burns out first, something that had you, Andrei, and every single Hurricanes fan in the arena watching on in confusion.

“No, no,” you had heard the Russian mutter from next to you. “Why is he sending Brent? He needs to send Fishy, or Turbo—” the words then died in his mouth as Brent missed as everyone knew would happen, and sadly Teuvo, who went out next, did too.

Unfortunately for us, the Bruins had good goal-scorers. Coyle had slipped the puck past Andersen, as did DeBrusk, and then it was done. Game over. Just like that.

You finally turned to face the man next to you just as his head fell into his hands, tugging at his hair and messing up the gel you forced him to put on because no, Andrei, you can’t show up with bedhead. He was muttering words you couldn’t understand, most likely the creative Russian curses you heard him say on occasion.

If this game had been hard to watch for you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Andrei was feeling.

“‘Drei,” you said, tentatively. “Are you—”

“No. Don’t.” He snapped, rubbing at his eyes before unsteadily rising to stand. His right leg shook, but he refused the arm you held out and didn’t dare to look in your eyes to see what look they held. As he tried to reach for his crutches, his leg buckled from underneath him, and this time you ignored the hurt of him lashing out to put your arms around his back to steady him.

“Can we— Is it okay if…” he struggled to speak, his accent thick with emotion as he struggled to find the words. Andrei had never been good at communicating when upset, literally, because everything always came to him in Russian naturally, and this time was no different. “Leave? Can we leave?”

“What about—”

“No. No team. No reporters.” he said, digging his fingers into the back of his jersey you were wearing.

You softened, gently maneuvering your body so you could face him better. Now you were chest-to-chest, your arms still wrapped around his midsection to keep him steady. “What do you want then, Andrei?”

“Home,” he murmured. “Home. With you.” he wasn’t able to convey it right at this moment, but his heart was pounding as he said the words. To him, to anyone in his culture, this was the closest he could come to expressing his love without outright saying it.

He found he wasn’t scared about finally admitting this out loud, either, because you were his home. Everything about you was home because he wouldn’t dare let anyone else except his brother and mama see him so vulnerable.

Of course, you were oblivious. He normally found it cute, but right now he wanted to shake you because all he wanted right now was to hold you in his arms and kiss you as he found comfort in your presence.

“Okay,” you finally whispered, the double meaning of his words flying right over your head. But something emboldened you, gave you the courage to raise your hands to his shoulders so you could reach up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right next to the corner of his lips.

“Let’s go home, ‘kay?”

The ride home was silent, comforting even despite the rough loss the team took. By the time you finally managed to get to the car, the two of you were struggling to keep your eyes open and also keep your hands off each other. Andrei tangling your hands together, you gently leaning against his side…

It was all surface-level, neither wanting to speak the words out loud but yet not wanting to sacrifice the innocent, physical intimacy you found with each other. This was all racing through your mind the closer you got to Andrei’s house, and you were almost positive he was thinking the same.

Andrei, in fact, was actually contemplating the one-hundred different ways he was going to kiss you, if he ever gets to that stage with you. He was currently facing the window but left enough room at the corner of his eyes to take little peeks at you, only fuelling his determination to do something about the tension between you.

And, yeah, maybe he was hyperfixating on you to distract him from the fact his team lost and if he was down on the ice he knew he would have been able to fix it, been able to score. His emotions had skyrocketed since the game ended, and everything felt so much more intense than usual.

Maybe that was just the pain medication he was on, though…

After you finally arrived at Andrei’s house, it took a little bit over an hour to finally get yourselves ready for bed. The problem? Neither of you were ready for any sort of sleeping, and you both knew it.

Currently, Andrei was leaning back into the couch, his right leg once again propped up on the ottoman and a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap. You were next to him, legs comfortably tucked underneath you with a few inches of space left between you and Andrei.

There was half a family-sized bag of Doritos in between you that he said was in his pantry, so you were both currently snacking on them while watching the NHL channel. It was quiet other than for the TV, for neither of you were speaking a word for fear of breaking the thick silence between you.

The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, and what made it even worse is that you didn’t think Andrei even noticed. He was wrapped up in his phone, most likely watching the game recap because his face was twisted up and his whole body seemed tense.

You shoved another Dorito in your mouth. Fuck. You were so, so screwed. You needed to get it together before you said something you regretted, especially since you had temporarily become his roommate.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and spoke. “Andrei?” you said, hesitantly looking towards him.

“What?” he responded after a moment, not taking his eyes away from his phone.

Now you felt uncomfortable. Before, in the arena, he was looking at you like he loved you, but now he was snappy and tense and worse than normal because his team lost without him being able to play.

Picking at the skin around your nails, you attempted scooting down the couch before just giving up and moving to stand. “Nevermind,” you said with a mutter, feeling withdrawn and defeated. If he didn’t want to open up to you, fine, but you didn’t deserve to have him take out his frustration on you.

At least, not like this.

Andrei didn’t even respond, furthering your feelings of bitterness towards the man you had so many feelings for. Wrapping your hands in the long sleeves of his hoodie you were still wearing, you shuffled down the hallway and into the guest room you claimed as your own.

You could still hear the TV playing in the background, but that was the only sound in the otherwise silent house. You blinked the frustration from your eyes and crawled underneath the bed sheets, scrolling on your phone until you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Hours passed of restless tossing and turning, and then suddenly it was three in the morning and you were being woken up by countless knocks on your door.

“The fuck?” you muttered sleepily, crawling out of the cocoon of blankets you were in to answer your door. For whatever reason, your sleep-addled brain wasn’t able to comprehend that it was probably Andrei on the other side. “Andrei?” you said, confused as the Russian leaned against the wall.

He looked rather sheepish, slightly embarrassed. His hair was ruffled, and the TV was still playing so he probably fell asleep on the couch.

“Oh, shit,” you said, suddenly realizing that he was probably here because he needed help. Of course. That was all it was. “I’m such an idiot, sorry,” you breathed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you stepped out of the room. “C’mon, I’ll help you get in bed.”

Andrei stopped you with a hand, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find words. “No, that is not it.” he finally settled on.

Okay, now you were curious. “Huh?”

“I am sorry.”

What?

“For what?” You asked, staring up at him wide-eyed. You were honestly too tired for a heavy conversation like this so you were struggling to keep up.

Andrei swallowed the lump in his throat. His leg was currently throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his heart as he looked at you. Your hair was all over the place in the most endearing way, and your eyes were droopy in a way that told him you were just sleeping.

“For not treating you right, for—” He cut himself off, sighing in frustration. Why was English so complicated? If only you understood English. “English is stupid.” he muttered, then released a big sigh and steeled his resolve.

Stepping closer, he brought the two of you chest-to-chest and brought his arms to cage you against the wall.

And you, you meanwhile, let out the most embarrassing noise possible when he suddenly got close, and then Andrei was everywhere and nowhere all at once. His body was trapping you in, and while your senses were on overdrive you strangely enough didn't feel like fleeing.

“Andrei?” You squeaked, sinking further into the wall if it was possible. Your eyes dropped, finding the center of his chest to firmly set your gaze. His eyes were so dark, intimidating, and swimming with an intention you were nervous to find out. “What are you doing?”

“Look at me, please?” A large hand smoothed against your skin, gently tilting your head up. Your eyes automatically locked with his, and the emotion on his face had you gasping. “There’s my girl,” He said.

Okay, yeah, your body was frozen, the breath leaving your lungs in a torrent of sharp breaths. This… This was new territory, for the both of you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how Andrei looked so calm while you looked like a startled deer—an unattractive one, at that.

He started speaking, heart thundering while the words poured from his throat like warm, melted butter. “I’m in love with you. You are my person, I knew from the very first moment I saw you in that bar so many months ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but tonight, having you next to me… You’ve always been next to me, and I’ve taken advantage of that. Darling, I want to make up for all the times I never kissed you senseless, and I want nothing more than to have you as mine, and I yours.”

Your favorite music, your favorite voice, words so filled with emotion and yet you couldn’t even understand him as he looked at you like you were his sun, and he a plant desperately seeking your warmth. Andrei had only spoken in Russian a handful of times in front of you – most being curses or quips exchanged with Pyotr – and never had he spoken so much of it.

You’d always thought Russian was rather harsh. The sharp whistles, clicks of the tongue, hissing of certain words; you admired anyone who could speak it, but it had never been an easy language to listen to you. But, when Andrei spoke Russian… It was soft, almost musical, and expressive to the point you felt like you could understand the very subject at hand if you thought about it. Maybe you were just biased, but you swore you fell more in love with him every time he spoke it.

“No words?” he said, a grin on his face that made you realize you’d maybe been silent for a little too long.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You were breathless— literally.

“I show you, then, what I said,” Andrei brushed his fingers against the side of your neck, almost fully grasping it as he gently brought you closer. You had no complaints, though. “Yes?”

He said your name again, looking at you with those warm eyes so full of depth they hypnotized you and had you nodding yes, almost instinctively.

Andrei sucked in a breath, tightening his grip on you only slightly as he slid his hand around the back of your head. Your lips were slightly parted, shiny and red from where you’d been biting them previously, and that cupid’s bow that always drove him crazy when you smiled was quirked upwards as if it was asking him to kiss you.

He waited a moment, stared into your eyes, his fingers merely a whisper of a touch against your cheek, and finally took the leap. The first touch of his lips was shy, testing, but then you whimpered with need and tugged at his shirt to bring him closer and Andrei had an internal moment of fuck it where he realized just how crazy he was for you. Pressing you into the wall, he nipped at your bottom lip and was granted entrance with a gasp drowned out by the sound of his own groan. He put every ounce of his passion and love and relief into this kiss as if trying to convince you to stay because this, this here? It was worth it—you were worth it. Fireworks, electricity, butterflies, and everything all at once was igniting in your gut and caused you to let out a pathetic whimper the moment your lips finally detached. He was clearly skilled at this, wholeheartedly controlling the moment as his lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin that met your collarbone.

“‘Drei,” you gasped, clutching the hair right at his scalp – when did you move your arms around his neck? – as he sucked a mark under your jaw. “Hm?” he hummed, not stopping with his ministrations.

“What,” you said, throat dry and raspy as you tried to speak over the sound of your beating heart. “What did you say— oh,”

Andrei’s grin was almost feral as he drew the beautiful sound from your lips. “Found it,” he said, voice full of pride as he brushed his fingers against the newly-found sweet spot on your neck.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed his head in between your hands, bringing his head to yours so you could press a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips before pulling back to gather your thoughts because you had a lot of them.

Andrei pouted the moment you pulled him away but respected your boundaries and merely rested his hands on your waist to keep you close. He said your name gently, his tone bordering on questioning. “Did I… Did I push too far?” he said.

“No, no, not at all,” you rushed to correct him, already having caught the guilt in his eyes. “I just want to know what you said earlier, before you— you know.” It felt almost taboo to say ‘before you kissed the life out of me’, not wanting to break this delicate balance you found yourself in.

The Russian hummed, already catching on to your bashfulness and deciding to tease you for it. “No, darling, I think you need to remind me,” he brought a hand up to loosely wrap around your neck, the contact keeping you grounded. “On what I did before what?”

“Andrei,” you said, immediately dropping eye contact as your face flushed red. “You’re being a tease,” you muttered.

He dipped his head, brushing your lips together as he spoke. You felt his breath against your skin and had the sudden desire to taste him again. “I can do this all night, but the question is can you?”

You gave up at that because the moment he spoke he drew back and you couldn’t stand the feeling of not having him close to you anymore. “Andrei,” you sucked in a breath. “What did you say before you kissed me? In Russian?”

“I love you,” Andrei didn’t miss a beat as he crept his other hand farther up your waist. “That is mostly what I said. And more.”

“More?” you squeaked out as he drew closer.

The hockey player hummed, then suddenly stepped back and grabbed your hand. “Much more,” he confirmed. “Now—bed?” Short, sweet, and to the point Andrei always was…

Just one of the many things you loved about him.

Twenty minutes later you lay in Andrei’s bed, swallowed in another one of his shirts, and curled into his chest. His arm was wrapped around your waist, stroking gentle circles into the skin exposed to the room. It was silent, null except for the steady hum of the air conditioning and the gentle breathing of two humans reveling in each other’s presence.

“I miss it,” he said, suddenly speaking up. You lifted your head only slightly from his chest, already missing the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. “Hockey. And I miss playing with my brothers.”

Brothers. Your heart broke at hearing the longing in his voice, because every single player on the team he played with was his family, in one way or another, and now he was being forced to watch them play the sport he had no chance of helping them win.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.

“I know, Andrei,” was what you finally settled on. Your voice was soft, gentle, trying to convey your understanding with actions rather than words. You drew tiny circles on his chest, taking pride in the way goosebumps rose in your fingers’ wake. “I know.”

He tightened his grip on you, holding you closer to him as if he were afraid you’d disappear. “Will you be here?” he suddenly asked, frowning. Andrei knew he was being slightly irrational, feeling so vulnerable, but he really hadn’t felt secure in himself since first tearing his ACL.

What was his purpose in life, really, if not to play hockey and have you with him?

You hadn’t yet spoken, so he quickly clarified. “In the morning. And all the mornings after.”

A smile broke across your face as you buried your head into his chest. You felt the rumble of his chest as he chuckled, and then he shifted to where you were laying on top of his chest so he could see your face. “All the mornings, huh?” you asked, feeling bashful.

Andrei grinned, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth, knowing the effect he had on you. “Every one,” he replied. “If you will have me.”

“There’s nothing I want more.”

And you meant it, truly, with every fiber of your being. The next months were going to be rough, the ones where you’d have to be there for Andrei as he watched his team ultimately compete and fall through in the playoffs especially.

But you knew the two of you could do it. Andrei was nothing if not committed, even through all the arguments, tears, and emotional breakdowns, you were there for each other through the long haul.

And Andrei, meanwhile, after many difficult months down the road, had the biggest smile on his face as the doctors told him it was a miracle.

Because he had healed from his ACL injury in five.

fin

A/N: Before my medical professionals come at me, YES I KNOW acl injuries take up to a year to recover from almost all of the time, but for the sake of this fic just pls ignore that little fact 😭 in all seriousness though, I can’t wait till our favorite Russian gets to play again bc I miss him sm. As always, please leave likes, reblogs, and comments. Ily all <33

────────────────────────────────

Taglist: @ballsakic @bbbbruins @bbnhlqueen7 @kapriz0v @iwantahockeyhimbo @sebbyaho @girlmeetsamerics @heatherawoowoo @matsbarzal @carter91 @leafs-forever @teuvomakesmesmile @canadian-girl87 @hockeypuckedmeup @typical-simplelove @calgarycanuck @diary-of-jj @grittysbattinggloves @stars-canucks @nachodaze @besthockeyfics @sidcrosbyspuck @svechslvr @ilyasorokinn @ssebastianaho @drei-mrssvechii @nicohischierz @insomniren @kpopkenners @canesqueen @the-jarvy-party @martynecass @yagetintoit @natzp03

Add yourself to my 18- (SFW) Taglist here!

Add yourself to my 18+ (NSFW) Taglist here!

1K notes · View notes

marvel-ous-m · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (2/5)

Part One

Part Three

A.N.: Um... guys, WHAT?! The outpouring of love and support for a blurb I had sitting in my Notes app for the last two months has been absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for the better part of the last day, and this is now a ~7k, five chapter fic that I will be posting to Tumblr as well as my AO3. I can’t thank y’all enough for all of the support, and I hope you like where this is heading!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Steve finished ranting about the middle schoolers he spent time with, Eddie launched into a description of the campaign he was working on for Hellfire. Steve listened intently as Eddie spoke, slowly making his way through Eddie’s sandwich and the bottle of water until both were finished. Eddie kept talking after Steve finished his food, distracting himself by going on a tangent about goblins in D&D. He was pulled from his rant at the sound of a soft thump- which, Eddie realized with surprise, was Steve’s forehead slumping down far enough to hit the tabletop.

Steve sat up almost immediately when his head hit the table, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

Eddie snorted at Steve’s antics, piling his books together. “Damn Stevie, I didn’t realize I was that boring.”

“Stevie?” Steve whispered under his breath, then shook his head, shooting a sheepish smile Eddie’s way. “You didn’t bore me- I liked it, really, I just-”

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie cut Steve off, smirking at him. “You don’t need to make excuses. No offense man, but you kinda look like shit, I can tell you haven’t been sleeping well. Speaking of which- why are you even here? You should probably be at home resting, not zombie-walking your way through a day of classes.”

Steve hummed at that, shrugging and resting his cheek on his palm. “S’better here than it is at home.”

Eddie frowned at that, his brow creasing. Steve had just told him a few minutes ago that his parents hadn’t been home in three months, and all of Hawkins knew he was the only child of the Harringtons. What was so bad about spending the day in a giant mansion that most definitely had central heating? Eddie would kill to spend these winter months in a house like that instead of under approximately fifty blankets (while somehow still freezing his ass off) in the trailer.

Steve breathed out a small puff of air, and Eddie noticed that his eyes had slipped shut in the minute-or-so that Eddie had been distracted by his internal monologue. Shit, Steve was really exhausted. Eddie sighed and stood, quietly loading his books into his backpack. After zipping up his backpack and pulling it onto his shoulder, Eddie gently shook Steve’s shoulder, wincing sympathetically. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Steve up, but Mrs. Boliene would have a fit if she saw Steve like this.

He was definitely not expecting Steve to practically jump out of the chair, or for his breathing to suddenly grow erratic, in response to being woken up. There was something in his eyes- a kind of fear that Eddie could only associate to something he saw in Wayne’s eyes after waking his uncle from a particularly bad nightmare.

Eddie held his hands up, taking a step back from Steve. “Hey- sorry, it’s just- Ms. Boliene can be kinda a bitch about people sleeping in the library. I know a place you can rest for a while if ya want. Let’s be honest, you probably aren’t going to be learning anything if you go to the rest of your classes today.”

Steve clenched his right hand a couple times- Eddie would file that particular coping mechanism away to ask about later- then nodded, his breathing (mostly) back to a normal pace. “Sorry about that. Yeah man, whatever you say.”

Eddie nodded, let his arms drop, then cleared his throat. “Right, just go ahead and follow me, King Steve.”

Steve sighed and stood with a wince, gathering the garbage from his (Eddie’s) lunch before following the other boy out of the library. He tossed the trash in the garbage bin outside the library then took a couple of long strides forward to catch up to Eddie. “Can you um- maybe, like… not call me that?”

“Sure thing, Steve-o. Here, hang a right.” Eddie turned down a hallway and Steve followed, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“That’s it?”

Eddie stopped walking when they reached the drama room door, shrugging. “Yeah man, that’s it. You don’t wanna be called something, I’m not gonna call you that. Nicknames are supposed to be fun, dude.”

Steve nodded in understanding, but his brow was furrowed- he was clearly deep in thought. Eddie stood there a moment, waiting for Steve to say something. When it became apparent that the jock was going to keep his thoughts to himself, Eddie smiled tightly and opened the drama room door, walking past the gaggle of students sitting together and eating lunch at the front of the room. He ignored their stares and walked to the back of the room to a set of double doors, which he opened and then led Steve through. “This is where Hellfire meets. You can lay down in the corner over there on the couch cushions and blankets. I set that up last year for my mid-morning, skip-P.E. nap time.”

Steve blinked in surprise, then turned to Eddie with a playful smirk. “Is that why you’re repeating this year? Slept through too much P.E.?”

Eddie chuckled at that. Harrington had some sass to him, huh? “One of the many reasons. What can I say, getting sweaty for some dumbass P.E. teacher just doesn’t agree with me.” ‘There are much better things to get sweaty for’, a distant voice in Eddie’s head whispered. Eddie pushed that thought away, shaking his head at himself. Harrington was not the kind of guy to think those kinds of things around.

Steve giggled to himself- honest to god giggled, it was quite possibly the best sound that Eddie had ever heard- then stepped into the room, taking in the variety of chairs surrounding the giant table and the various decorations on the walls. Suddenly, Steve’s playful smile disappeared, turning to a grimace. “Um, are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep here, Eds? Don’t you have Hellfire here later tonight? I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Stevie, I promise it’s fine. You’ll probably be awake by the time we’re in here playing through the campaign anyways. Just don’t worry about it and get some rest, okay?”

Steve nodded, walking to the corner and sitting down on the cushions. Eddie smiled reassuringly at him from his place at the doorway, then waved goodbye to Steve. “I’m off to English and Chem. I’ll be back in about two hours, but I could lock the doors in the meantime?” Eddie pulled a lanyard out of his pocket, grinning. “Perks of being club president. I’m the only one with a key other than the drama teacher, and he never comes in here. I just figured- maybe you would sleep better knowing that no one can get in? You would be able to get out, obviously, but- y’know what? Maybe this is creepy, pretend like I didn’t say anything-”

“-Thank you, Eddie. I… would appreciate that.” Steve cut off Eddie’s (admittedly awkward) rant and punctuated his request with a yawn, scrubbing a tired hand over his face.

“Yeah, yeah of course dude, whatever you need.” Eddie stepped out and locked the door behind himself, then slumped his back against the door. Step One: Get Steve Harrington to Take Care of Himself, complete. Time for Step Two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A.N.- tagging those who requested/insinuated a request, lmk if you’d like to be added/taken off the tag list.

@ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie

#stranger things #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #1984 steddie meeting au my beloved #stranger things fic #steddie fic #pre s4 #pre s4 meeting

1K notes · View notes

bittersweetarts · 2 years

Text

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Aemond Targaryen x You (Fanfiction)

Word count: 3471 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Misogynistic behaviour (borderline sexist), dubious consent, no smut (because I am physically unable to)

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 1: The Summer Solstice Festival

When you first came to King’s Landing as a young maiden, you didn’t expect much out of your stay – it was meant to be brief, and your parents had hoped that you would next return to Storm’s End betrothed. It was your duty as a high-born woman. Though your house is noble, much of its influence had been lost in the years subsequent to the ascent of Aegon the Conqueror, and you needed to secure a good match for its livelihood.

When your parents first received a letter from the Targaryen Family, inviting your household to to stay at the Red Keep during the Summer Solstice Festival, a religious holiday in the Faith of the Seven, your father had instructed you to attend with your mother and one of your elder brothers, Steffon. The pair would serve as your liaison between potential suitors, and this irritated you greatly. Independent in spirit, you could not reconcile the fact that your insufferable git of a brother, only a few years elder to you, gets to determine the path of your life, purely on the basis of his sex. Yet, here you were, en route to the capitol, trying to summon your optimism in bleak circumstances.

Part of a large family of fifteen, you were next in line to be wed, and truly, you were grateful that you have managed to escape the life of becoming a child bride. You truly are the epitome of a middle child, only occasionally remembered, and when you were needed, you could be found in the household library, your head firmly affixed to a book. You are of a reserved nature, found far from the center of affairs, and from a minor house, which is why everyone found it surprising that Queen Alicent had taken notice of you, most of all yourself.

“My Queen,” you bowed towards the famed pious woman, as you greeted her with your mother and brother at the entrance of the Royal Hall. It has been a little of a week since your arrival to King’s Landing, and you had little to show for it, much to the dismay of your chaperones. It was almost the mid-point mark of the celebration, and in honour of the Summer Solstice, a ball was being hosted. Ironically, it was Steffon who has garnered the most interest with regards to marriage, and you have slowly begun to prepare yourself with the life of being a spinster. It couldn’t be so bad, perhaps you could train to become a midwife, or whatever occupation you could find. In a way, you wish you could do just that, forge your own way in life, and create one that is truly your own. But you know that is just fantasy, and that if you are unable to return engaged, your parents would likely just arrange a partnership with the first possible suitor. Nevertheless, this was a harmless fantasy that you let yourself divulge into, which in all fairness, was not frequent, as you were more often than not, reading. The Red Keep’s library was your favourite place in the world, you had decided, as you know that their collection would keep you occupied beyond your lifetime, and when you were not there, you were found at the Royal Gardens, reading. Unrealised to you, this had earned you a reputation as a book worm, and had attracted the attention of the Queen.

“I must say, I am quite surprised, this is the first I have seen of you since your arrival, without a book at hand.” The fair woman spoke, next to her fair-haired children, observing the fair.

Unbeknownst to you or your family, this was the first light-hearted comment the Queen had spoken that evening. She had been an awful mood due to the unsurprising absence of King Aegon II from yet another Festival event, which was preluded with a heated argument regarding the utility of wasting treasury funds for religious events, at least that was the position of the ill King, much to the dismay of his young mother, a devout follower of the Faith.

This shift in mood had surprised the one-eyed Prince Aemond, who had otherwise been detached from affairs of the evening, by that point. He truly did not give a shit about inconsequential matters, such as balls where fat old men drunk themselves into oblivion, and naïve young women armed themselves with false flatteries, in hopes of wooing some nobleman, all while their duplicitous guardians manipulated these affairs.

However, this moment had intrigued Prince Aemond. For one, you were a foreign face, and as was your name, as introduced by your older brother. But more importantly, you were someone who had caught the attention of his mother, a woman who did not care for court social life in the slightest, unless for political purpose.

You tactfully maneuvered the conversation, deflecting attention from yourself whilst politely responding to the Queen. Thanking her for the invitation whilst leisurely bowing, Aemond could not help but notice how pleasing you appeared in that position, with your flushed cheeks and full chest on display. As you disappeared into the crowd, Aemond took mental note of you and your house, as well as the dress you were wearing, a deep crimson frock which accentuated your golden skin and glistening décolleté. It definitely was a satisfying display, and his interest had been piqued.

You had found the entire Targaryen family handsome, and each time you see them, you are always taken aback by their beauty. Queen Helaena could have been a Goddess, and all of the Princes in attendance had an unworldly quality to them. You could almost understand in a way why it was their dynasty that managed to ‘unite’ the Seven Kingdoms. Almost. However, you knew better, and it was not their beauty, but violence, fire and bloodshed that had chained the Kingdom together. And you were unsure of whether that was a good thing.

As the evening progressed, you slowly started blending into the background. A few dances with unmemorable men to appease your mother, and a waiting game until your brother was too intoxicated to remember your existence. You had brief conversations with suitors, monitored by your kind, yet stern mother, and you knew that any arrangement would ultimately be managed by her.

You were never good at maintaining conversations with peers, and found that you over-thought spoken exchanges too much. You preferred avoiding such internal conflict, and predictably grew weary of the ball, as you chose to not even interact with any of the other ladies in attendance. Though you knew it was unwise to be alone as a maiden, you decided that you were in need of fresh air and opted to go to the nearest vacant balcony, with a goblet of cherry wine at hand, whilst trying to hide from your observant mother. While leaving, you expected that no one would take notice of you. The one-eyed Prince, who had distantly observed you since the beginning of the night, giving you more glances than he should have, saw opportunity. Satisfied with this development, he stealthily followed you, keeping a considerable distance.

The Red Keep was a maze, and while you stumbled across many people, most were intoxicated and took no notice of you. You were a lady on a mission, and were in desperate need of fresh air. After an eternity wandering, regretting not finding the courage to ask one of the many knights you crossed paths with, you finally found refuge in a large empty balcony. As you approached the railing, setting down your sleeved arms against it, you took in a deep breath of fresh air, or rather air that is as fresh as it could be in King’s Landing suffocating weather. Your momentary peace however was disrupted, as a deep male voice echoed behind you, startling you.

“Like a little lamb on your own, are you not afraid of being taken advantage of?”

You immediately jumped around, and a small distance in front of you was the wayward Prince Aemond, known throughout the land for his coldness and unspoken cruelty; the kinslayer, and since the war, this reputation has only cemented further. Immediately, the image of the Prince riding his infamous dragon, burning down cities and armies came to mind. You could almost hear the screaming in your head. You truly were afraid, but you were also stubborn, and refused to be intimidated by anyone, including a Prince.

Taking a quick breath, you cocked your head while responding, forcing a smile. You hoped this could be interpreted as charming.

“Do I have anything to be afraid of?” You spoke, in a soft voice.

His violet eye was sharp, staring at you, and in the darkness, dilated. His expression was stiff, and he did not return your smile, his jaw remaining tight. Despite appearances, you did feel incredibly intimidated, but hoped that the Prince had not noticed your false bravado. There was a momentary silence, and you forced your smile to remain, while staring back. A fresh breeze past the two of you.

“I suppose not,” Aemond spoke after what felt like an eternity to you.

Keeping a small distance, he joined you, leaning against the railway, still staring at you. The silence continued, except that it felt deafening to you, thanks to your heartbeat. Aemond enjoyed watching you squirm. It was entertaining to him, your reaction, and it was not as he expected. Most women are afraid and flee, or throw themselves at him, yet here you were, doing neither. And Aemond did not like being unexpecting of others.

Finally breaking eye contact, you turned back around, staring at King’s Landing, while nervously cupping your goblet, still filled. You were not ready to break the silence, and to be frank, you were unsure of what was happening. How is it that you managed to find yourself alone with the likes of him? Why were you not more cautious and why did you have to leave on your own? This was a precarious situation, and you knew that it was better for you to be silent, so as to not offend the Prince, which in all likelihood, you would still manage to do regardless. And even if you had not managed to, you were not only afraid of him, but also that someone will inevitably find you two alone together. The soiling of your reputation felt inevitable now, and the prospect continued to frighten you. You start to fiddle with your goblet, now staring down at it, until a sudden movement catches you by surprise.

Swiftly, Aemond grasped the wine, chugging it effortlessly before tossing it aside, the glass shattering absorbed by the noisy environment of the celebration and the city sound. Frozen, you widened your eyes, and your mouth gapes open.

The Prince was attempting baiting you into breaking the silence, yet here you were, still hushed. Stepping closer, the Prince grazed a hand against your flushed cheeks and jawline, and now you start to violently tremble.

“So you are indeed afraid,” Aemond now smiled as he spoke, and you could not help but notice a wickedness behind it. Your false confidence had crumbled, and you felt like you were sweating profusely. Prince Aemond still continued to caress your face gently, with his rough hands, which felt cool against your boiling skin. His face was now a breath away, and his voice lowered as he spoke.

“I don’t mind though. In fact, I do believe some fear is healthy, helps people know their place” the Targaryen pauses for a moment, his fingers now exploring your lips. At this, you jerk and you bite down, hard. If it hurt, the Prince did not show his reaction, but merely jumped and glanced at his index and middle finger, which against the moonlight had a crimson glisten. Though this happened on impulse, you were in a state of shock for a moment, staring at the Prince’s hand.

When you realised how fucked you were, you tried to sprint, but failed to, as a hand shot up against your throat tightly.

“No. Behave.” Aemond drawled out slowly, his face touching yours’s. You could smell the wine in his breath, and there was rabid look in his eye. Though you felt faint, and you thought your voice would fail you. Luckily, you felt a survival instinct rush through you. You never doubted that the Prince was dangerous, but at that moment, you truly felt at peril.

Looking at his violet eye, you spoke back, your voice throaty due to the constriction. You also gently wrap your hands around his right hand, in hope that he may release it. Tears began escaping your eyes, and they slid down to Aemond’s hand. As they did, his smile only grew more fervent, and his eye become completely dilated.

“Why should I?” You weakly respond. Your mind was blank, and you had no clue what to say.

“That is an odd apology.” The Prince responded back, grinning. “I am sorry, my Prince. I am sorry for harming you.” He says mockingly.

“You do not want an apology.” You say. Tears continue streaming, though slower now.

“I don’t? Then pray tell, what do I want? I did not realise that you knew me so well, little lamb.” You did not miss the demeaning nickname, spoken with a mocking tone.

“No. You want to control me, that is what you men always want.”

Aemond smiled cruelly, lowering his gaze. “Us men, huh? You sure do seem well acquainted with the wants of men.”

The Prince’s implication was deafening, and his other hand suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, firmly but not painfully. You felt ashamed, and angry that the Prince had made you felt this way. Taking many rapid shallow breaths, you spoke harshly.

“You are vile and cruel.” Your hands now try to push against his chest, but fail. “If you intend to violate me, just do it already. Were you not taught by your Queen mother to not play with your food.”

At the mention of his mother, Aemond smile dropped, and so did his hand from your throat. The mention of Queen Alicent had broken his fervent fantasy, and he was brought back to reality. He was grateful that he had planted a knight to monitor the door and ensure no interruption, but he was not prepared to end his folly so promptly. The Prince had enjoyed this little game, and the most fun he has had in a long while, at least since the war ended with the demise of his not so dear half-sister and other kin. Yes, he was not ready for the folly to end just yet, and you had proven to be very entertaining indeed.

Though with one of his arms still around you, Aemond slightly distanced himself, and ran his free hand through your hair, as if you were a pet. Your brown hair was soft, and Aemond loved how he could sense a sweet earthy scent from it. You jump at this, and try to shove his hand away, but suddenly realise that they are clasped behind you, against your waist.

“You will not be violated, you are a noblewoman after all,” he says cryptically, smiling. “And why would I, when I prefer my women to submit on their own accord.”

“I am not yours.” You respond, your voice high and indignant.

With a mean laugh, Aemond responds. “Well-read people are supposed to be clever, are they not? Because you seem to misunderstand your position.” The Prince pulls you in crushingly, and now, you feel like you cannot breathe.

“Though you are a noble lady, I am a Prince.” He says sharply, every breath like a dagger slashing against the air. “By birthright, I can do as I please, and if I decide that you are mine, there is little you can do.”

“But as I said, I am not yours.”

Smirking, Aemond let you go. You were upset and angry, blinded by your emotion, and Aemond lived for your stubbornness. It drove him mad, in the best way possible.

“We’ll see about that.”

With that, the young Prince left, and as soon as you were alone, you crumbled onto the ground, hysterically upset and ventilating. After what felt like an eternity, a hand gently touched your shoulder, which scared you, causing you to scream.

Looking up, a knight profusely apologised. “My Lady, I sincerely apologise. Please do not be frightened.” You back yourself against the balcony railing, crawling away from him.

“Please, let me escort you to your quarters.” He says, keeping his distance. You were unsure whether you could trust him, and stared at him wide-eyed, trembling and hiccuping. Though the knight felt sympathy towards you, he had to follow orders, as it was his head on the line, not yours.

“Please. I have been instructed by Prince Aemond to do so.”

At this, you panic completely, and wrap your arms around yourself, beginning to shiver even more profusely. You feel frozen in place, and feel incredibly faint. Closing your eyes, you try to will away this nightmare of an evening. For a moment, you believe it to be a dream, and you wonder whether actually it was, as your consciousness escapes you. In the background, you hear some voices and a heavy sigh, and you feel yourself carried away. You are unable to distinguish reality, and as you toss, you are met with a strong chest and shushing.

When you wake, you feel incredibly congested. It takes a few moments for your blurry vision to clear, and as you look around, you are relieved to be in your guest chambers at the Keep. That was truly one awful nightmare. Your head is pounding, and you come to the conclusion that you must avoid wine. It affects you too much, evidently.

You see that you are still dressed in last night’s attire, and go to your bedroom’s private lavatory to refresh and prepare yourself for the day ahead. You put on a cream silk gown, light for the humid daytime weather. What is on today’s itinerary? Better to confirm with mother.

As you stroll into the modest living area, you are shocked to see Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena, sat with your mother, having tea. Your brother, who is normally noisy as an elephant, is absent from the room.

“And she finally wakes.” Your mother dramatically states, though you can hear a masked tightness in her tone.

You immediately bow before the Queens, very low, greeting everyone in the room, hoping that your shock is not visible, and that they take no offense. You are confused about what was happening entirely, until you remember your nightmare. Not a nightmare? Your heart begins to race.

“Please, sit.” A song-like voice speaks, and you realise that it is Queen Helaena who spoke, her voice mesmerising. You felt enchanted, and found yourself seated without second thought. You smile nervously, feeling inadequate next to such a beautiful person like her.

Despite your aloofness, Helaena launches into conversation, talking about how glad we found ourselves in attendance of the Summer Solstice Festival. Snapping yourself to sense, you attempt to begin conversation, understanding the importance of having the Queens in your company. Well versed in the Faith of the Seven and its history, you proceed to begin conversation about the theological origins of the Festival, and how it all began with followers committing sacrifices and offerings to the Mother Above, in hopes of prosperous harvests. “We soon understood the grander the offerings and showcases, the more blessed are the blessings.” The young Queen completely enraptured as you spoke, which relieved Alicent. Yes, my Aemond was correct. This would be ideal, the Queen thought.

In a kind, yet commandeering voice, Queen Alicent spoke as you finished. “I do not mean to deviate, sweet child. We were just speaking about this with your mother earlier, prior to your wake.”

The Queen took hold of your hands with two of hers, smiling whilst maintaining firm eye contact with you. It felt very familiar and comforting. In the corner of your eye, you see your mother’s face, and realise that there is fear in her. This spikes your anxiety.

“My dear, you are exactly the type of lady my dear Helaena needs as a companion. How do you feel about prolonging your stay at King’s Landing?”

Queen Alicent framed the proposal as a question, but you know that this is far from a request. You sincerely wish it had been, as right now, you recognise the danger ahead of you, yet again.

Taking a deep breath and summoning your voice, you respond, with fabricated joy.

“It would be an honour, my Queens.”

Hope you enjoyed my incredibly self-indulgent imagine!

I have been rotting my brain with Aemond Targaryen fanfiction for weeks and decided to take one for the team and write a fanfic myself. I do not claim to be a writer, but I also may continue writing more chapters, depending on my mental stability (the worse it gets, the more likely I am to write).

I have also posted this on AO3, incase you prefer that platform

– Chapter 2

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #imagine #house of the dragon #aemond image #aemond targeryen imagine #aemondtargaryen!thots #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

emeritusemeritus · 9 months

Text

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 10.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used. Not beta-read nor spell checked, we die like Sirius ❤️

Okay this one is admittedly a necessary filler so the reader can work out her feelings, but I promise we’re moving into the good stuff next chapter 🤍

You tuck your letter away under your placemat as you eat, not wanting to open it up in the middle of lunch, even though the others had done so.

Truthfully, you were dreading whatever news your dad had for you and you would rather read it in private, knowing he rarely wrote to you so it must be some form of news, most likely bad.

George kept flicking his gaze to you at he ate, clearly checking on your well-being but you simply pretended that you were fine even though you could feel the pit on anxiety building up inside.

After lunch, you'd all decided not to go back to the lake but to shower and chill in the house as the sun was at its peak and quite frankly, you couldn't sit in it much longer. Hermione had packed already and had everything ready for her leaving later that afternoon, so you took some time to just spend her last few hours all together.

You were all sat around in the lounge, the coolest room in the house, some of you reading, some playing exploding snap and others just chatting. It was nice just to all spend time together even if you weren't all interacting as you escaped the heat in the coolest room.

"Wanna play a game? Like truth or would you rather or something?" Ginny asks after winning another round of exploding snap. "I'm not doing dares with these two here," she says, nodding towards the twins.

"What's that?" Ron says, confused.

"It was on a muggle movie we watched, they take turns and ask each other questions," she shrugs, not really able to elaborate further. "Sometimes it's like would you rather chose A or B."

"We're in," the twins say in unison, moving to sit closer around the coffee table.

You, Hermione and Harry were sat on the sofa, Ron in the armchair and Ginny and the twins were sat around the table on the floor, padded out with cushions.

"Yeah sounds good to me," you say, placing your bookmark into your book and placing it down next to you on the floor.

Everyone mutually agreed and you all began huddling round, deciding on the rules.

"Okay youngest to oldest," Ginny says, hearing immediate protest from the twins. "You chose first yesterday and today, time for a switch up." You laugh at her bossiness, having to sometimes remind yourself that she was the youngest but the twins, Fred especially, had a soft spot for her and actually didn't protest further.

"Right, Harry, truth or would you rather?"

"Umm, would you rather," he says, touching his glasses nervously.

"Would you rather spend the entire day with Draco or Dudley?" She asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He huffs out a little nervous laugh as he thinks before answering Dudley.

"Ron, truth or would you rather?"

"Would you rather," he says confidently.

"Would you rather, er, throw up slugs again or dance with Snape at the yule ball," Harry says with a devious grin. You had to admit the last one was good but it was much tamer than you originally had thought it would be.

"Vomit slugs, easy," Ron says, brushing his hair out of his face. "Hermione?"

"Um, truth?" She says, unsure of herself.

"Oh erm, ughr," Ron mumbles, not knowing what to ask. Immediately the twins begin to mock him and you even inwardly groan, finding the game boring already. "How many books have you read this summer?"

You roll your eyes and openly groan along with the twins, all three of you finding the questions too boring.

"I'll answer that for her, too many," Fred says, jumping in. "Right I'm switching things up." He immediately stands and walks off, coming back a few minutes later bringing an empty bottle with him, necking the last of the drink before he puts it on the coffee table.

"Whoever it lands on has to answer the question, then they get to ask the next question," He says, spinning the bottle until it lands on Ron.

"Ronald, still a virgin?"

You have to hold back a little chuckle at the sudden shift in tone at Fred's brash words and even without looking you know that Ron is beet red.

Ron manages to huff and puff, squirming in his seat as he does indeed turn bright red.

You found yourself dissociating away from the game as others answered, trying to squirm away from the harsher questions the twins were coming out with. You excused yourself and walked to the kitchen, feigning getting a drink as you sat at the table, pulling out your letter, unable to wait any longer.

"Dear y/n,

Your friend has written you a letter but did not know the address of the friend you were staying with; so please find their letter inside. Hope school is going well and you are staying out of trouble. Best wishes, dad.

You almost rolled your eyes at the bluntness of the note, feeling overwhelmingly relieved that it wasn't a true letter from your father. Casting the note to the side, you pulled out the second letter, written on both sides of regular notebook paper that had been folded somewhat neatly, the girly but messy writing already making you smile.

"My dear y/n,

We miss you so much, when are you coming back to see us? You've not really missed much, apart from Johnny has a girlfriend now! Weird right? It's actually kind of disgustingly cute. School is shit, just like normal but only one term left before college. Everyone misses you, the band just isn't the same without our rock chick.Dad's taking me to London after work on Friday, remember that coffee shop we found last time? I've made him promise to take me and he said that he'd eat the banana bread that you loved so it would feel like you were there with me! Hope to hear from you again soon. Love you! Val, Still your best friend x

You reread the letter multiple times, perfectly envisioning her voice as you read it. You missed her terribly, along with all of your friends, but Val had always been you're closest friend back home.

You sensed a presence behind you and turned to see George watching you with concern. You smiled at him and he looked instantly a little relieved, moving forward to stand behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything okay with your dad?" He asks cautiously, knowing that the relationship was rocky and sometimes a sore spot for you. You snorted a laugh and nodded in reply.

"He was just forwarding a letter from my friend," you explained.

The beginnings of an idea were forming in your head as you looked at George, a rising hopefulness gathering in your belly.

"What time are your parents taking Hermione to the train station?" You asked, looking up at him questioningly, before craning your neck to look at the clock near the staircase.

"Um about two I reckon, why?" George asks, moving to sit beside you at the table in Arthur's usual spot.

"Do you think they'd let me go with them?" You asked and George immediately looked bewildered, "not to catch a train, I wanted to nip into London."

"I don't see why not, why do you want to go to London though?" He asked, thoroughly confused.

"My friends going to be there, I was hoping to surprise her and to be honest I could do with some new stationary before we get back to school," you explained, "maybe a new textbook or two."

"I don't like the idea of you going alone angel, can Fred and I join you?" He asks, warming your heart a little more at his concern. You burst into a smile and nod enthusiastically, it would be nice for you to go with the twins.

"I'd like to meet my friend alone though, no offence," you said, treading carefully. He smiled in understanding.

"Of course angel, you can meet me and Fred after, it would make me feel a lot more comfortable that way," he says nervously and you immediately reach over to kiss his cheek at his sweetness.

"Oi! Fred!" George bellows suddenly as you pull away. Fred walks out not a minute later after hearing his twin calling for him.

"Wanna go to London this afternoon? Y/n wants to go," George says, nodding towards you.

"I'm in," he shrugs, sitting down next to you at the table.

And that is exactly how you found yourself in the centre of a bustling and muggy Diagon Alley on a Friday afternoon with most of the Weasleys. Molly had jumped at the chance to go shopping and Arthur had gone along with it for the sake of his family. You knew where Val would be later that afternoon and hoped to be able to catch her but until then you strolled around Diagon Alley with the twins, having dropped Hermione off at the station and then broken away from the others as you weaved in and out of the stores.

Your first stop was Gringotts to exchange a muggle cheque your father had sent at the start of term for your school supplies before heading to Flourish and Botts for some new supplies.

"Wonder if they still sell Lockhart's shit?" You laugh as George opens the door for you.

"Doubt it, though fiction books always sell better," he laughs, following you towards the textbook area with Fred lingering behind.

Seeing a potion book you didn't own, you briefly flicked through it before putting it back on the shelf, realising it was utter trash. You briefly wondered if Professor Snape would let you borrow any of his own books this year, knowing that though they were much more advanced, they were immeasurably more informative.

You picked up a new textbook that you needed for your defence against the dark arts class and began wandering towards the back section when an overly excited Fred ran up to you and George, wielding a book.

"Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches!" He says excitedly, laughing whilst flicking through the pages to show you a few diagrams and read out a couple of passages.

"And you need that why?" You asked defensively with a frown, not finding the underlying meaning very funny. He immediately senses your displeasure and his eyes bug out as he stumbles over his words as he tries to explain.

"Not for me princess, obviously, merlin, I meant for us to give it to Ron!" George immediately laughs at the plan and you absently nod, feeling a little off from the whole thing. You begin wandering away from them, making your way back to the potions area as they excitedly flick through the book.

"Professor?" You say smiling, spotting a familiar face within the potions section, his characteristic black hair and flowing capes always recognisable.

"Miss y/l/n," he says, turning in surprise at your voice, an almost smile tugging at his lips in recognition as he looks down into your basket. "I would have thought you already owned a copy of the necessary textbook for my class," he says with a hard but familiar tone, as if there's humour buried deep within it.

"I do sir, I was hoping to find something more advanced but they're all utter drivel," you said honestly, gesturing to the green book you'd looked at earlier. He huffs out a little puff of laughter though he tries to hide it before turning away to look up at the shelf. "Yes," he says, drawing out the syllable of the word before reaching up to the top shelf and pulling down a small, leather bound book that was hidden between two much larger books. He checks the spine and briefly flips it over before handing it to you with an almost smile, "this should be of use to you, it is well beyond the ability of a typical sixth or seventh year but you've exceeded all of my previous expectations, what's one more."

"Thank you Professor," you say as you reach for the book, trying desperately not to blush at his praise.

"Angel- oh, Um, Professor Snape," George says as he bounds around the corner, coming to an immediate holt as he spots the Potion master. Fred, clearly not anticipating his brother's sudden stop, barrels into George from behind as they both look up to see you and Snape conversing.

"Anyway," Snape says, his tone and features immediately hardening as he looks at the troublesome twins before looking back at you, "good day."

You follow him with your eyes, looking down at the book he'd given you before looking up again, just in time to see him cast one last glance at you before exiting the store.

"What did old Snapey want?" Fred said, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

"He recommended a book for me, said it would help me with my NEWTS," you shrugged, not directly trying to knock Fred's arm off of you but also not actively trying to keep it around you, still feeling a little uneasy about the misunderstanding with the book from earlier.

You walked and paid for the two books before shoving them into your little crochet shopping bag and walked over to Quality Quidditch supplies with the twins so that they could fawn over the new brooms and array of merchandise.

Checking the time, you briefly wondered when you should set off for the little muggle coffee shop just outside of Diagon alley that you knew Val would be visiting and decided to have another thirty minutes with the twins before going.

You ran into Molly and Arthur who were sat outside one of the tea shops sharing a pot of tea. They waved excitedly at you all and carried on with their little date that mainly consisted of people-watching and laughing.

You nipped to fetch a new quill and some parchment before eyeing up a new school skirt in Madam Malkin's but couldn't justify spending the money when you're old one would do, at least for the rest of this year. Fred, true to form, had quietly muttered some sexual innuendos about never having enough skirts and how much he liked you in them but you ignored him and instead left without the skirt.

"Okay, I'm going to meet my friend, not sure how long I'll be, where will I find you?" You turned, addressing the twins.

"Take all the time you want. We'll probably be in Gambol and Japes, if not we'll meet outside Ollivanders or come to you?" George said, pointing towards the joke shop on the corner. You nodded and reached out to subtly grab his other hand as you said goodbye. You turned to Fred and he subtly leaned in, looking like he was whispering in your ear and kissed the side of your head gently.

George then reached up and grabbed your shopping bag off your shoulder with a smile, "don't want her seeing any of this do you?" He slung it over his own shoulder and you had to bite your lip at seeing the 6 foot 3 Weasley boy lugging around a rose patterned crochet bag, but it didn't even faze him after wearing a lifetime of Molly's knitted creations.

Walking towards the coffee shop, your nerves were all over the place, firstly hoping that you could catch her and secondly that she would respond well to the surprise if you had your timings right.

Walking in, the little bell above the door chimed and you took a moment to look around at the customers, not seeing her signature blond hair anywhere.

"What can I get you love?" The barista asks and you ordered a caramel macchiato, something that you would never be able to find in the wizarding world. You reached for your little coin purse of muggle money and paid with the change, waiting to collect your drink at the end of the bar. When your drink was ready, you walked over to a table near the window and were immediately thankful that you'd bought along your book so that you'd have something to distract you and that the coffee shop had working air conditioning. Each time the bell chimed, you looked up in hope but then went straight back to reading your book, waiting for the next time.

"You have to get the banana bread!" You heard as the bell chimed and it immediately alerted you to the voice. You grinned as you spotted a shirt female with familiar blonde hair stood beside her absurdly tall dad who had dark brown nearly jet black hair.

They ordered their drinks and cakes, paid and then moved to wait by the end of the bar just as you had. Seeking an opportunity, you stood and walked over to them discreetly before putting on a voice, "excuse me?"

They both turned around with polite but confused smiles on their faces and you couldn't help but laugh at the reaction as waves of recognition passed over them.

"Oh my god!" Val squealed as she threw her arms around you, not a single care in the world about her absurd volume. You beamed and laughed as she rocked you in her arms, thankful you were able to see her again. "What are you doing here?! I thought you were in school? Did you get my letter?" She began to say frantically as she pulled away to look at you. You simply laughed and nodded, not even knowing where to start. She pulled you in for another hug and you held her just as tightly; only realising now how much you'd missed her.

You looked over her shoulder to Adam, her dad, seeing him smile widely at you both. When you pulled apart, he held out the plate of banana bread towards you, gesturing for you to take it as he pulled you into a side hug, having been close since you were five years old.

"No I can't, you have it," you said, trying to protest. He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair, "I don't even like it, I was just doing it to shut her up. It's really good to see you, kid."

He walked off with his drink to sit down near the table where your stuff was, happy to give you both space and to flick through his mobile phone for a while, something you hadn't seen in a long time.

You were desperate for a catch-up with your best girl friend and truthfully, you needed some one to talk through your problems with, someone with an unbiased, outsiders perspective; someone who didn't know the twins at all. The whole Amortentia incident was still fresh in your mind, only worsened by smelling the whizzbang smoke the other night and you were more conflicted than ever about your feelings for both of them. Val was the only one who wouldn't judge you for what you were doing, who you knew you could trust to talk openly to, at least without mentioning the magic.

Val grabbed her drink from the counter and moved over to your original table so that you could chat. She went first, immediately telling you about how she was seeing a guy at school and that her dad didn't know so you had to be cool about it. She told you more about what college she had picked and how the rest of your friends were doing and some chatter about new muggle movies and music you needed to experience

"So, what about you?" She asks, picking the last little bits of her cake off the plate. You huffed out a sigh and placed your drink back down on the table. "Oh no, what happened with Fred?"

You'd told her all about your crush on Fred a few years ago but had never mentioned much about his twin, though you'd spoken about him in a friend way. You figured there was no time like the present to offload all of your complicated feelings.

"It's, complicated," you say, picking at the lid of your coffee, "did I tell you that Fred told me he had feelings for me?"

Judging by her almighty gasp, you assumed not. "Problem is, so did his twin brother." Another almost comical gasp.

"Then I realised that I might also have feelings for you George and things are now a little complicated, to say the least." You were quiet now, just a little above a whisper to avoid someone overbearing.

"So what did you do?" She asks attentively, giving you her full attention. You sighed and looked up at her as you replied.

"I'm kind of dating both? For now, please don't judge me."

"I would never!" She says reaching her hand towards yours, "so you have to decide eventually?"

You nod. "That's the problem. Every time I feel like I'm starting to decide, something tips the scale and I'm right back to the beginning."

You rub your hands over your face trying to relieve some of the tension but of course it doesn't work.

"Who do you see a future with?" She asks, keeping her tone even as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"Well that's the thing, I've been staying with them this week and both of them have said the cutest things about the future and it's got me even more confused. We had separate dates earlier this week and I had a night with George first, well kind of the day and night because Fred was sick and we talked about what we were doing after school and how we both wanted one or two kids etc, and it was such a nice thought. Then the other morning I came downstairs and he was in the kitchen reading the newspaper, shirtless and looking hot as fuck and it made me think that it could be my future you know, husband in the kitchen making breakfast blah blah blah." You took a breath and carried on explaining as she listened to you, "but then with Fred, the other night, he was saying about how we'd live together and he's hold me every night and bring me cups of tea in a morning and god the constant marriage references," you took another breath, trying to remember not to overload her and forcing yourself not to mention the Amortentia outright.

"The thing is, I love them both but in different ways. George brings me comfort, he's gentler and more sensitive, real proper husband material. I can see our future completely and I'd be happy but then there's Fred. We'd have a happy, fun filled life, it would never be boring and I'd be happy with him. But now I know what it's like to be loved by both of them and I can't even bare to think of choosing one and losing the other."

Silence lingers around you both as you finish offloading your thoughts. The weight of your words hangs in the air and you have to shoot a look at Val to check that she's still with you, and then around to check no one was listening.

"What about quick fire questions? We write out the answers or tally them and you can see who you favour?" She asks and to be honest, it sounds like a good plan.

"At this point I'd do anything."

She immediately scoots over to sit beside you rather than across from you and leans down to pull a notebook and pen from her bag. She flicks it open to a blank page and draws a little tally chart with their names at the top.

"So I'll ask you a bunch of different questions and scenarios and you have to say the first one that comes to your mind," she explains as you enthusiastically nod along with her. She suddenly leans in to whisper in your ear. "Quick one, have you slept with them both?"

You nod slowly, feeling as if she would judge you but she simply nods with a neutral expression, as if it was just a regular thing to ask someone.

"Okay, who's messier?"

"Fred."

"Who's grumpier?"

"Fred."

"Who's the most romantic?"

"George."

"Who's funnier?"

"Fred."

"Who's more sensitive?"

"George."

"Who hugs you more?"

"George."

"Who kisses you more?

"Fred."

"Who's hornier?"

"Fred."

"Who gives better head?"

"George."

"Who has a bigger dick?"

"Fred," you say, quickly adding, "only by a fraction though." She nods, then begins changing tactics.

"Does Fred want kids?"

"Yeah, but he wants more than George."

"Who's more attractive?"

"They're identical twins," you say blankly but she reaches out and flicks you on the arm.

"And you can tell them apart so there must be differences," she reasons and you can't fault her logic.

"Um Fred? George's nose is a little bigger and his features are a little sharper I guess."

"Okay next set of questions," she says, looking up from her notes, "If you did chose one, who would take the rejection worse?"

"George," you reply, your heart doing a little twang of sadness at the very thought.

"Okay, fast forward five years, it's a Saturday morning, no work, no plans, explain what it would look like with George," she says, preparing to make notes again.

The memory of him in the kitchen the other morning, shirtless and reading the newspaper flashes into your mind.

"I wake up and he's not in bed but there's a hot cup of tea on the bedside table. He's in the kitchen, sat shirtless at the little table, reading the newspaper and sipping his tea. He pulls me into his lap, rests his head on my shoulder and reads the sport scores out to me and any news bits he knows I'd like. I make breakfast for us and we sit and eat at the little table laughing and chatting until we inevitably end up back in bed," you say, listing out each part of your little dream.

Val let's out a little 'aww' as she makes her notes before looking back up to you with a smile, "same scenario but with Fred."

"I wake up and he's sleeping next to me, still holding me from the night before. He wakes up and we don't leave the bed for another hour at least. He makes me tea and we make breakfast together and then we sit watching terrible tv, mocking the actors and awful storylines. He pulls me closer to him to cuddle on the couch and we spend the day just like that."

"Okay different tactic again, I want you to give me the pros for dating Fred or listing his best qualities," she says, flipping over the page and starting a new one entirely.

"He's funny and mischievous, kind to me, very protective. Hot obviously, like little stupid things like running his fingers through his hair or rolling up his sleeves. We're best friends so there's no weirdness and most people think we're dating anyway."

"Okay now George."

"Funny, sensitive and sweet, more considerate than Fred and more likely to notice somethings wrong. More likely to think ahead, and to apologise. He's comfort for me."

"And now worst qualities of Fred."

"Doesn't always think things through, can be impulsive and not think of the consequences. He can be a little mean, to his brothers and stuff, just a little more brutal than George is. He can be a little grumpy sometimes, usually about other guys or whatever like he's a little possessive. Not always the most responsible and can be a little unreliable."

"And George?"

"Follows Fred diligently, a little insecure, not as confident in himself, same as Fred that he doesn't always think of consequences."

"Okay last one, what are the pros and cons of being in a relationship with them in general?"

"Pros; wonderful family, great parents in law, I get along really well with their other siblings, share the same friends. I'd be happy."

"Cons?"

"Um well I guess there family isn't rich or anything, not that it bothers me, but for some maybe that's a thing? The only con is hurting the other brother."

"Right, your conclusion," she says, adding up the tally before looking back at you.

“You’re screwed.”

#emeritusemeritus #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley #fred weasley masterlist #weasley twins x reader #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #george weasley smut

181 notes · View notes

starwrighter · 8 months

Text

I am not a baby!! (yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (previous) (next)

(Chapter ten baby!!!!)

Danny isn't stupid. He knew Giga Fish was still here somewhere. Watching him... Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, oxygen ticking lower and lower as he darted back into the semi-safety of his base.

A backpack full of peepers and bladderfish smelled awful. Getting the fishy smell out of his suit was going to take ages! Bladder fish are natural water filters. The fabricator draws out drinkable water from the fish's well...Bladder. Ancients, he hoped the fabricator sterilized this with its little lasers.

Non vegan water...

Sam would have a conniption fit, Tucker would love everything about it. He'd find a way to contact them soon if they didn't find him first. The earful he would get from Jazz might just be worse than his giant stalker. Getting lectured by Jazz would be preferred over sitting here with a gigantic fish a few dozen meters away. At least with Jazz, he knew she cared about him. He didn't know what the big guy wanted from him. Danny wasn't exactly a snack you'd travel through the sea for.

Whatever the guy wanted, Danny didn't care. As long as they both stuck to themselves, things would go just fine...

Peeking through the curtain, Danny saw the massive eel-like fish curled up, staring directly at his base.

Danny really wanted to study the guy. What were his eating habits? He didn't seem to be interested in eating any of the fish around him. Both the sharp teeth at the front of his maw and the shiny bioluminescent stripes that drew fish closer to him suggested a carnivore, but his complete disinterest conflicted with this.

Could a fish be vegetarian? A fish capable of sentience like this one probably could, but Danny didn't want to shove his head in the lion's mouth to test that.

Drawing on his PDA, Danny sketched out the blueprints for a table with a trash bin that slotted into the left side. Two air-tight cabinets were built into it. One smaller one underneath the trash bin and one larger, like a fridge on the right. In the middle was a collapsible set of stairs that'd allow him to reach the top of the table. Maybe making the table shorter would be more convenient, but giving up that extra storage space along with his dignity would be too much for him right now. The table top was a bit too empty for his liking, so he added small drawers at the back edge of the table. A perfect place to store small blades and silverware when he created the blueprints for them. Overall, it was much more like a workstation with built-in storage than a table, but Danny still planned to eat his meals here just as he planned to prepare them.

The fabricator would've been sufficient to cook his meals, but the lasers vaporized the shit out of the organs and bones of the fish. Anything nonedible in a fish's body turned to dust. The dusted ligaments and organs gave the meat a medical taste, like using hydrogen peroxide as mouthwash. Sure, the lasers were cool, but what was the point of cooking if your food tasted like high-tech sadness? It was bad enough that the only seasoning he had was salt. He didn't need his food to taste like it was made in a lab. Gutting his own fish was a necessity. Anything he couldn't eat could be tossed outside for the carnivores to snack on. They deserved a little treat for dealing with his stupidity.

Danny built his little table close to his fabrication station, ensuring it was anchored to the floor and wall. An unsteady piece of furniture could flatten him into an ugly pancake. If his friends were here, they'd agree he looked much cuter when he's only fifty percent dead.

Quickly stepping up to the table with his backpack full of fish, he unsheathed his survival knife... The knife would've been so much more effective than his teeth when he fought the big guy. Danny fought the urge to facepalm. What's done is done, he bit someone like a feral raccoon, but everything worked out!

Gutting fish was more difficult than he'd expected it to be. It was hard to tell if his lack of experience or now tiny hands were what made the task feel a thousand times harder. Peeper blood was yellow, but his own was still a vibrant red that dripped onto the table with every slip of the hand. It felt like a fishing trip with Dad, only without the forty-minute lecture on the dangers of ghost fish.

Running his hands over the now gutted Peepers, Danny used all the power he could muster, freezing them solid. Spots danced in his peripherals, the floor spinning underneath him like a carousel. It took a minute or two to regain his composure. Sitting on the ground with his frozen fish head pounding, face flushed red. Forcing his powers was like trying to drink scalding hot coffee through a toothpick-thin straw. It left him out of breath, fingertips burning with no evidence of damage.

There was an ecto dampener on this planet, he was certain of that. One stronger than any of the ones his parents had built. A radius that reached far past the planet's atmosphere yet still remained potent enough to prevent any significant power usage.

Unfortunately for whoever put the field up, it didn't cancel out his powers completely. Maybe if it did, he would have died completely, saving the culprit or culprits from being mauled. If Danny was anything, he was a stubborn bastard, and there was no amount of dampening that would stop him from clawing the faces of whatever had the audacity to do this! If he had access to his powers he could've saved everyone!

Over a hundred people died because he wasn't strong enough to save them! Because he was prevented from saving them. Ships like the Aurora don't just crash and burn for no reason. Alterra might skimp out a bit on employee safety, but the engineers they hired for serious maintenance were top-of-the-line. Underpaid, but top of the line, they wouldn't make a mistake that could cause that much damage. The way the ship shook, it felt like something had hit them. Everything about this seemed more and more suspicious the more thought he put into it.

For now all he could do was survive in hopes of finding some kind of lead. Finding and stopping whatever was stifling his powers was number three on his to-do list. Just above studying the wildlife but below finding other survivors and surviving himself.

First things first was rations! Both he and any other survivor would need food and water. While he was set with his... questionably hygienic water, fabricating more was a necessity. Giga fish was still out there, Danny could feel eyes on him whenever he passed the glass. All it would take was a split decision to plop his tail in front of the hatch, and Danny was trapped in here to either starve or dry out like a sponge under a sunlamp.

Coral samples and crumbling chunks of salt were taken by the fabricator, turned into bleach within the blink of an eye. The PDA screamed at him, a pitch that could've made his ears bleed. Warnings flashed on screen, the AI desperately pleading with him not to put the substance anywhere near his face. A wild contradiction to the PDA entrance that recommended using it to disinfect his wounds.

Only when he used the bleach to fabricate more water did the tablet stop screaming. The water smelt chemical, and it tasted vaguely of metal coins. Like the overpriced bottled waters, you'd find at an airport vending machine. Laying the bottles on their sides, he stashed them away in the cabinet, placing frozen peepers between each layer. Cold water wasn't a luxury he'd be willing to give up, nor was it something he'd give himself a mind-splitting headache over. So the obvious solution was to turn the cabinet into a disturbing refrigerator with dead fish eyes that stared into the deepest depths of his soul!

Nobody ever said survival was aesthetically pleasing.

Walking back to the window, Danny stares flatly at the curtain. Apparently, the whole "You can't see me, therefore I no longer exist," rule didn't work on this guy, so the curtain was completely useless. Peeking past the cloth, he could see the fish staring at him. Didn't even bother to hide, just sat there like he didn't belong hundreds of meters down doing anything else.

If watching him gave this guy joy, he's going to do something nobody could be entertained by. No longer should he be the comedian for giga fish! He was going to do something so drastic, something he'd only done sparely over the past year! He was going to...

Sleep!

He collapsed down onto the floor, curling himself up with the low-hanging curtains. Spite made it all the easier for him to fall asleep.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet

#You can't tell me the fabricator make anything that tastes good #dpxdc #dp x dc #subnautica au #dcxdp #dc x dp #Damian's going to get a mean nickname if he keeps things up

176 notes · View notes

ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

Text

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: i.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

"[First]... [First]. Hey wake up!"

You blink blearily, just barely catching your chin with your palm. "Sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes once more. You open them once more when Shoko raps her knuckles against your desk again. "'m still kinda out of it."

Yours was the start to a very trying day.

First and foremost, you overslept and missed breakfast.

You were still tired.

And most irritating of all, you had a headache ー you forgot to drink water before and after going to bed, sue you.

While you're still cognizant, you whip out your phone to text your friends. What a waste, you sigh. There aren't any missions to go on today either. Originally your plan was to head out once classes were over for the day and meet up with your non-sorcerer friends in the city. Eat at Johnny's, maybe go to an arcade and watch a movie with the money you had leftover. With how you're feeling presently though, you much preferred laying down and immediately going to sleep. "This sucks," you fail to fight back on a yawn. "I wanted to see what's been going on with everybody from my old school too." You yawn again.

Me: I'm not gonna be able to make it, sorry. Can we meet up another time instead? Have fun without me (T^T)

Chinatsu: aww that sucks. Do you think you'll be free next weekend? We can do something for your birthday!

Your smile is small yet doubtful as you text back an 'I promised my aunt that I'd visit her next weekend to celebrate so it might be a while til then.'

If there's one simultaneous benefit and drawback to attending Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, it's that your schedule is sporadic enough that you it's never consistent what you might be doing on a day-to-day basis let alone week-to-week. Some mornings you'll find out classes are canceled for the next few days and other times you think you're home free to bullshit for the weekend only for Fujioka-sensei to pop up and say you and Shoko have a mission that'll take up the entirety of your free time. As far as your old friends from Tsubame High were concerned though, you somehow got yourself a scholarship for a bigshot religious school with a limited number of students and hellish expectations for said students.

"Look at [First] getting herself into some fancy rich kid private school," Tooru said when you broke the news to your friends you'd known since middle school that you'd be transferring to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.

Chinatsu: Look at [First], not having too much time for the little people!

"It's pretty unusual for you to sleep in," Shoko's comment brings you out of your nostalgic stupor.

Me: Yeah who are you again?

"Yeah, I know," once you quickly type in your reply, you finally shove your phone back into your pants pocket. If there's a definitive benefit to attending Tokyo Tech, it's the customizable uniforms. You went for the boys uniform at this particular school. It felt like it would be the most practical decision when you'd be running around fighting cursed spirits. And with it being fall, the winter solstice being a couple weeks away, wearing pants felt like the best long term investment you could have come up with. Not to mention, you looked good in it. "It's not like I had any trouble getting to sleep though."

"Bad dream?"

"I don't know I can't remember it," you shrugged trying to recall whatever it was you were dreaming about. It's all hazy, not even the most significant parts scratching at your brain coming through the fog. "I don't think it was bad though. Maybe it was about my husband. I'm still mad they killed off his character in Anaconda 2 last year, can you believe that shit? He was the finest dude in the movie!" When you hear a snicker coming from your right, you shoot a glare towards the culprit with snowy white hair. "Like Inoue Waka even knows who you are, please shut up."

"At least my celebrity crush lives in my country," Gojou snickers back with a shit-eating grin. "Running into Morris Chestnut in Japan? Doesn't seem all that likely. Ah the delusions of young children."

"You are literally only two days older than me, you are making this way too big a deal."

Although Suguru releases a breath of exasperation, there's a smile gracing his features. "Well you can't be that tired if the two of you can bicker like this. Just try not to tear each other apart next week when the party hits. It's your special day after all."

Ah yes, the party. The brilliant idea that the first and second year teachers, Fujioka and Yaga, came up with on the fly yesterday on December 1st.

When you were told that there was a small number of students at this school, you didn't realize how little there would be going in. Among the first year students, you're quite literally only one of four. The previous second year student, Okita, died two months ago leaving the current number of second year students at 0. There's quite literally only two third year students in Utahime and Mei Mei. And as for 4th year students, there is only one ー Yamada.

The ratio of non-jujutsu sorcerer to sorcerer was shockingly out of balanced if there were only seven students at your school. Because of that, the teachers made sure to celebrate every student's birthday. A party, cake, presents, the whole shebang. No class, no missions. Just a day of setting up the dorms for a party while the one turning a year older had to either leave campus and wander around until it was time for their party, or sit around doing nothing around campus until someone came to get them.

It wasn't too long ago when you were all celebrating Shoko's birthday on the 27th of last month.

It was her party with her cake and her presents.

But you? The teachers had a special idea in mind for you. Because in a school of seven students where two of them were born within days of each other, why have two separate parties when you could make it one and cheapen the cost?

One party with one cake and a mixture of presents for you both to tear open at the same time.

Gojou is December 7th.

You're December 9th.

They'll just celebrate both on the 8th and call it a day.

When it came down to it, you understood the principle behind the plan. You could even get behind it. It's just that if somewhere to ask if you liked Gojou Satoru, your answer would be an irrevocable 'no'.

Hell, you'd answer 'no' even if no one did ask.

Gojou Satoru is impossible for you to like from his stupid sunglasses to his shit-eating grins. Even worse is his arrogance. Because apparently, there's no one in the world of jujutsu you were scouted into that didn't know who Gojou Satoru is. Born merely two days before you, Gojou Satoru's birth changed the state of the jujutsu world. "He's basically like the jujutsu sorcerer version of Jesus," Shoko explained when you asked why everyone seemingly made a big deal over him.

I don't like him at all.

You're the odd man out in your class, though, you begrudgingly force yourself to accept all over again during lunch. Despite your less than stellar review of the boy, Suguru and Shoko got along just fine with him.

Gojou had always been obnoxious about the fact you were born a couple days after him when you found out you shared a month of birth. It is just that with your birthdays being right around the corner of next week, he is being especially intolerable. He even came to wake you up this morning when you overslept, forcing Gojou Satoru and his blue eyes that were partially obscured by his sunglasses to be the first thing you saw that morning. Clearly a premonition that today was going to be a mess when he all but sang "morning, junior, you're gonna be late to class at this rate!"

By the gods, I wanna punch him so much. I don't care if he's Jujutsu Jesus, he just thinks he's hot shit because he has blue eyes.

At the very least, you can rest easy in knowing the fact that the feelings of dislike are mutual.

Gojou Satoru is strong, it's an irrefutable fact no matter how much you'd like to deny it. He's strong and in turn, the strong are the only ones Gojou respects. You apparently don't make the cut.

And that's fine. Strength came in all sorts of ways. (An argument the two of you have already had with one another where Suguru said you both would just have to agree to disagree.) You disliked Gojou Satoru but you could live with the fact that, at the very least, you were going to be stuck together for four years. Because even if he was strong, life sometimes paid you back with small moments of grace where someone put the golden boy of the Gojou Clan in his place.

"Just so you know, Takamatsu Akira is visiting again," Shoko's voice pulls you back into the present.

You raise an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, "never heard of 'em."

"He's a sorcerer that can see glimpses of a person's future when he looks at them," Suguru answers in her stead over a sip of his oi ocha. "He's apparently at the school today for some sort of meeting."

"Hands off the goods," your eyes widen in amazement as you quickly smack away Gojou's hand from your lunch. "Really? And it's all accurate too?"

"He's a major asshole, though," the white-haired boy hisses with a pout. You roll your eyes. I'm not sure how reliable your words are if you of all people are calling someone an asshole. Your incredulousness must show on your face because Gojou's next words are, "seriously! He only tells people he thinks have interesting futures anything about it."

"And?"

"Satoru's just mad because apparently his future isn't interesting," Suguru smirks, smugly welcoming his best friend's unamused side eye. "He told me about mine though."

You bite back a snort when your curiosity to know Suguru's fortune wins. "What did he say about it?"

Suguru touched his chin thoughtfully, recalling back the day he met the seer. "He said that one day I'll be stuck at a crossroads between two paths and make a life changing decision," he pauses dramatically and you lean forward in anticipation. "That's all he told me though."

Damn it.

The brown-eyed boy chuckles but he shoots you a look of amused sympathy, "he never really tells you too much about it apparently. I was disappointed too."

"Did he ever tell you anything about your future, Shoko?" You ask your class' resident slacker.

Shoko shook her head, bob gently moving with her. "I'm one of the boring ones too," she says with a lazy wave of her hand. "Like Gojou."

"Don't worry, my friends," Suguru places a hand over his chest and bows with far too much grace and humility. "I alone will shoulder the burden of having an interesting future. Unlike Satoru."

You choke, unable to stop yourself from chortling this time. Whatever Gojou sputters in his self-defense, you don't hear it over the sound of your own laughter. "Maybe he'll tell me about my future too," you sigh when your giggles subside. You sincerely doubt it, but it's fun to think about the possibilities. I want an interesting life plot twist, like the reveal I'm actually a long-lost member of some royal family he just won't tell me which one.

"He'll probably stop by because you're here," Shoko rests her chin on her palm. You were the newest in your class, starting a month later than the rest. "He likes seeing if new students will have interesting futures ahead of them."

"Don't get too excited, [First]," Gojou quickly rains on your parade with a lot of arrogance for someone whose future is apparently so boring a seer won't even talk to him about it. "I'm the most interesting person in this place and he won't even talk to me. So who knows what sort of reaction you'll get."

"Oh quit being bitter that your future is gonna be boring, asshole," before any other quips and gripes can be exchanged, the class door slides open abruptly. You look over with a start, wondering if it's your teacher when you see it isn't. The man is a bit younger than Yaga but his hair is already graying and his eyes are a deep green reminiscent of pine trees. You have a feeling you already know who it is and grin. "You wouldn't happen to be Takamatsu Akira, would you? Gojou here was telling me about his boring future soー" you stop yourself with a shudder when you blinked and realized that man was in front of your face and much too close for comfort.

"Now that is something," the man blinks owlishly, eyes almost glowing in his amazement.

Your discomfort flies away faster than a seagull with someone else's lunch, "really?"

The man leans back with a grin and a snap of his fingers, "really, really."

With that you look at Gojou and stick out your tongue and he sticks his tongue in return.

[First] 1, Gojou 0.

Suguru chuckles and Shoko grins and all the while, Gojou flicks your forehead too quickly for you to react. "Look, hater, it isn't my fault that your future's boring, quit trying to rain on my parade," you snicker, batting your eyelashes. "Mr. Takamatsu, I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me about my future if you don't mind. Before the naysayers get more butthurt than they already are."

"You're gonna die, kid."

With four words, your blood freezes and you find yourself blinking once, twice slowly. It's the matching looks of shock and surprise on your classmates' faces that tells you you heard Takamatsu correctly. Stiffly, you look back at the seer hoping for that revelation to be nothing but a joke, but instead you find yourself looking at a maniacal grin. That grin feels more like a knife in your gut. "In the worst way possible."

The knife sinks deeper into your flesh, twisting.

"Hey," out of the four of you, Gojou is the one who finds his voice first.

Takamatsu ignores the boy with snow white hair as if he's nothing but a minor breeze, "But," he beams like he's only told you that he found a discount at the convenience store. "Because I like you so much, I'll let you ask three questions about it."

"O-okay," you stammer almost instinctively. Like a zombie, you find yourself stumbling onto your feet and Takamatsu nods at the door. These answers will be for you and you alone. You aren't sure what expression you wear on your face as you exit, nor the expressions of your peers. You can't bring yourself to look at them as you follow the future-seeing sorcerer into the halls of your school.

I'm going to die.

In the worst way possible.

It's only once you're relatively alone that the seer halts his walking in the middle of the hall to look at you. "Feel free to ask your questions," he tells you. "Your classmates shouldn't be able to hear, even if they keep looking out the door. So ask away," he reassures you, waving his hand nonchalantly.

You glance to your left and sure enough there are three heads leaning out of the door, staring straight at you both. You can't bring yourself to smile reassuringly before you return your gaze to the sorcerer in front of you.

Three questions.

Your first question can only be so obvious. "Howー how do I die?"

Takamatsu's amusement is sapped from his face at that question. "Really?" He yawns with a shake of his head. "That's what you're going to ask? That's quite boring."

Boring? Boring?! It's my life! "Yeah but-"

"You know what, fine," Takamatsu sighs, crossing his arms. He recalls his vision in his mind for a moment before he opens his lips. "You're going to be killed by someone precious to you. Ask me something more… riveting this time."

You blink slowly.

You're going to be killed by someone you care about.

When do I die?

Was it an accident?

On purpose?

Why would they want to kill me?

You don't think those are questions Takamatsu will find intriguing in the slightest. In a panic, you ask the most original question that enters your brain. "Do I die… angry at them?" No. Fucking. Shit, me. "Wait, that was dumb don't answer th-"

"Nope, it counts," Takamatsu clicks his tongue. Maybe it's payback for your first question being so predictable and unoriginal. "And my answer for that is no. Your heart will surprisingly bear no anger towards the person who kills you." A revelation that shakes you to the core. "Well, one question left to go, kid. No more mess ups, I'll take it even if it's something as a dumb as a repeat question."

"Okay, okay," you exhale nervously, biting your lip. I need to think.

You know yourself.

You're selfish at times, who isn't? If it really came down to it though, you know you'd always put someone else's life over your own. You can talk big, you can snort when you watch a movie and say 'yeah sorry, they'd be stuck on their own. I'm not dying in a situation like that, I'd wanna go home'. But you know yourself enough to know that despite thinking it, your feet would inevitably turn towards the other person. Maybe you'd die in the end but you know you'd try your damnedest to get them out.

Why else would you put yourself on the line fighting curses?

Curses were scary.

You'd seen them you're entire life, unable to explain why or what they are to the people around you. Some were tall, some were small and some were so grotesquely horrifying that it made Sadako and Freddy Kreuger look like kittens. Being able to literally shield yourself from them were a saving grace when Rejection came in. Those curses didn't attack often, no they mostly just hung about before choosing some random poor soul to haunt. You just didn't want one touching you or your parents.

Things got a bit better when they sent you to Japan for the summer with your aunt. Apparently that's what happens when you live in a country with a more stable and organized force of jujutsu sorcery. Or maybe it was, begrudgingly, because living in the home court of Jujutsu Jesus kept some curses from wilding out the way they did in your home country.

Either way, your parents relented when you begged for them to let you continue living in Japan with your aunt.

That's how you were prepared for the night your class' test of courage went to shit when a curse showed up and miraculously kept the list of mortal casualties at zero.

But I'd like to think that in a life or death fight where it's me or them, I'd choose me. You shake your head pushing the thought to the side. You almost forgot the most important detail. Your killer will be someone who matters to you. But I won't be mad about it. If it was life or death, I'd choose me. I know that. Stranger on the street or a lifelong sworn enemy. And I know if I was killed by someone I apparently care about, I'd definitely be bitter about it. I'm not that forgiving.

Future you isn't in agreement. Your eyes turn to the ground.

Is it a life or death fight situation or an accident? You open your mouth briefly before closing it again.

They're precious to me.

They're someone I care about.

But I won't be angry.

I mustn't have been trying that hard then, you wet your lips as a light bulb flickers deeply in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't have been. How else could your future self's lack of anger be justified? One day, there will be someone you care for so greatly that even in a life or death battle, you'd still choose them.

You raise your head to look into dark green eyes dancing with amusement, a grin accompanying them. The grin morphs from clear to distorted at the welling of tears in your eyes. I wasn't trying. "I must really love this person, don't I?"

Takamatsu's grin grows even wider, eyes flashing in pleasant surprise. "Yeah," he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "It seems like you do."

Tears roll down your cheeks like streams into a river yet your arms hang loosely at your side. "That's three questions then," you murmur, throat constricting. You inhale slowly, hold your breath and release before wiping your eyes. "Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Takamatsu. Lunch is gonna be over soon, so I'm gonna go finish eating now."

You bow before turning on your heel back to your class, your classmates are still there. You don't really care to receive their pity or empathy.

"I'm gonna die, it's gonna suck and that's all he really told me," you say before anyone can ask.

It's hours after classes have ended for the day and you're cooking in the communal kitchen when you see Gojou again.

"Hey," Gojou says and his tone is so serious it startles you. You set your knife down on the cutting board before looking at him. His face doesn't seem right to you and it dawns on you a second later it's because he's frowning and it's not the usual childish frown you're used to seeing. "Don't take what that guy said seriously. Like I said, he's an asshole. He was probably saying all of that to freak you out." There's a pause and Gojou scratches the back of his head, looking uncomfortable in his skin. "So don't, like, cry about it. Takamatsu's a prick."

"Are you," you squint, looking Gojou over suspiciously. "Trying to make me feel better or something in your own weird Gojou way?"

"Someone has to make sure you aren't drowning in their sorrows," Gojou returns to his usual brand of cocky, with a grin. His sunglasses slide down, revealing playful eyes.

"I don't want the comfort then," you roll your eyes and return to chopping your vegetables. "Besides, I don't need it anyways, I'm strong."

"Eeeeh."

Asshole.

"We had this argument before that there's different kinds of strong, you jackass," you argue for argument's sake knowing it's a moot point to argue with someone who vehemently believes otherwise. Apparently he thinks belief in philosophical kinds of strongs is how the weak comfort themselves.

You vaguely notice that in spite of your annoyance, your shoulders aren't stiff and your jaw is loose. Apparently Gojou is good for something, after all. "Strong looks different for different people. A kid is strong when they act tough after tripping. A grown man crying and being open with his emotions is strong," you recount some of the ways you've seen people be strong in your life. You've witnessed strength in various ways in your 15 years of living. "… Even just living despite how hard it can be is strong. But it's whatever, I already know you think that's a load of self-comforting weak crap, don't feel like arguing about it."

Save for the sound of you cutting green celery and the light simmer of the pan, silence falls over the two of you.

"What did you guys talk about when he said you could ask him questions?" Gojou finally asks.

"… nothing important," you mutter back.

ー

When you wake up at 4:30 in the morning the next day, knowing full well there was going to be physical education that day, you decide to ditch class.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

In the oneshot I somehow fucked up the timeline by one year. In reality, Gojou was a 1st year in 2005 not 2004.

Also, in the oneshot I said the reader was the baby of the class. I was wrong again. Suguru was actually born in '90, not '89, like I originally assumed. Thus, he's actually the baby of the class. So I removed all mentions of the reader being the class baby. Still, you're younger than Gojou by two days so he is still rather insufferable about that, much to your chagrin.

Compared to the oneshot, now that there is more extended time to look into such things, there will be dives into the reader's non-sorcerer origins, family and friends. I would like to note that the reader isn't from Japan originally in terms of her nationality, but that will be covered in future chapters. Regardless, the reader is ethnically ambiguous for the self-insert convenience!

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #i cherish you halcyon days

61 notes · View notes

lambtotheslaughterr · 1 month

Text

Rise : Chapter Ten

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 2.5k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER NINE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER ELEVEN

79 days since the world ended

It’s been roughly a month since you & the others left the lake house behind in wake of Rafe’s invasion. The gas inn Sayyed’s tank got the four of you nearly two hours north before it became low. There was still a can of gas left in the trailer, but it would be necessary to go out & scavenge more to keep his wrangler working. Fortunately, when Sayyed pulled off the main highway, easily maneuvering around abandoned cars, he happened to pull off near a cabin. It could be seen from the road, but only if one was looking hard to see it through the trees. It would be your new home if those even existed anymore.

The group dynamic between the four of you changed drastically. Though you didn’t feel the need to prove yourself, your warning about Rafe’s plans gave the group enough time to get away, far away. And so Nuha & Sayyed were as warm towards you as Bear had been. You were wary of their change in attitude early on but soon enough thought nothing of it as the four of you lived with one another for the next month.

On this day, it was especially warm. Sayyed guessed it was mid-July or so, which meant that the summer heat of the south had yet to peak. The days would only get hotter.

You were down by a pond that was a five minute walk away from the cabin. Bear was out scavenging & you were waiting by the pond for him to return. The sun was just above the trees so he would be back any minute. Unlike the lakehouse, scavenging took longer here. Your cabin was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, despite direct access to a major road. Most scavenging days required a stay overnight in the woods. But scavenging was more essential than ever.

Food & water was low, dangerously so. What you guys managed to take from the lakehouse only lasted so long, & the garden at the cabin hadn’t yet begun to produce anything. Everyone was on edge, & looking it. Nuha & Sayyed, who were already slim, were skinnier. You could see it in Sayyed’s face: his sunken cheeks, the clothes he wore hanging more loosely off him. And Nuha, you hadn’t realized how bad she had gotten until you two washed together the other week. When she took her top off you could see her ribcage, & her collarbone was especially more prominent than before. You had been losing weight too, but you still looked healthy as could be. You hoped Bear found something significant.

“_____.” You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of your name. It was Sayyed.

“It’s Nuha. I’m getting worried about her.” You swallowed nervously at his words. Of course he would notice her state, too.

“Whatever Bear brings back we’ll give her.” You told him, “She needs it more than us.”

Sayyed sat beside you, staring into the pond water, “What if it isn’t enough?”

You knew where his thoughts & concerns were heading. You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Can’t think like that Sayyed. She’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

“I hope you’re right.” Sayyed replied softly.

The two of you sat there in silence for some time until you hear the nearby brush moving. A few seconds later, Bear appeared. By looks of it, he was carrying something heavy, but there was a relieved smile on his face. You shot up & took off for him, Sayyed was hot on your heels.

“Finally brought something good.” Bear shared as Sayyed took the heavy duty bag from him. Sayyed placed it on the ground & unzipped it. Inside was a health-nut’s pantry. Liquid IV’s, sport drinks, multivitamins. The three of you shared wide grins.

“This is amazing, Bear!” You rejoiced, hugging him.

Sayyed gathered two bottles of the sport drinks, a handful of the liquid IV’s, & a bottle of multivitamins, “Thanks, Bear. I gotta get these to Nuha.”

Sayyed took off back towards the cabin, & you helped Bear carry the rest of the stuff back inside.

“We really needed this, Bear.”

“Better yet.” He started as you handed him items to place into a cupboard, “There’s more where this came from. Whoever lived there was stocked on nutritional shit. I can go back, but it’d be easier if you came with, ya know, a second pair of hands & all.”

You nodded in agreement, “Yeah, we’ll go the day after tomorrow.”

With Bear’s lucky find, your future at the cabin looked hopeful.

But hope was a silly thing to cling to.

Nuha plummeted overnight. You woke in a panic when Bear shook you awake. You followed him to the second floor. Inside one of the bedrooms, Sayyed was at Nuha’s bedside, helping her to drink some more water.

“What’s wrong?” You rushed out as you looked at Nuha. Your heart fell. She looked bad. Her normally shiny skin had turned ashen & was beginning to gray. Her hair was a matted mess on her head & there were beads of sweat dotting her hairline. Her lips were chapped & peeling.

“Bear…” You glanced at him warily, “Does she…”

“She doesn’t.” Sayyed cut you off, “It’s not any of those symptoms. She’s dehydrated and malnourished. And this fucking heat isn’t helping.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to point out to Sayyed how deathly she looked. Her eyes were closed & her breathing was shallow. You were unsure if she was sleeping, or even aware of the conversation happening around her.

“What else can we do?” Bear questioned, “Everything I got today is gonna help, it just might take some time.”

“She doesn’t have time.” Sayyed forced out, his voice strained as he placed a damp cloth on her forehead. “I can keep forcing her drink the liquid IV’s & to take the vitamins but…”

It was too late…

But was it?

You glanced from Sayyed to Bear, gesturing to the hallway. Bear frowned at you but followed you out. He closed the door quietly behind him.

“What is it?”

“There’s another option.” Your voice shook as you even dared to think about it, “It’d take longer but it’s our best chance. Nuha’s best chance.”

Bear said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

You licked your lips, fearful of his reaction to your suggestion, “Adrianna. When we left base, Tobias loaded us up on basic medical care shit. Real IV’s. With hook-ups & everything. Adrianna has all of it.”

“_____...” Bear lowered his head, knowing exactly where you were heading.

“Just hear me out.” You stopped him before he could deter you, “We leave tonight. You go back to the health nut’s house, I’ll backtrack. Find them.”

“Find Rafe?” Bear shook his head, “No, no. That’s a shitty idea.”

“Not Rafe, Adrianna. We need her. Nuha needs her.”

“It’d take you days to get back there, _____. Not hours, days.”

“I know.” You nodded, “But I won’t stop. Not even for a brief water break. I’ll just keep running until I get there.”

“Look, under other circumstances, I’d support it. But Rafe is unhinged. It’s been a month since we saw them, they could be long gone by now. It’d be a wasted effort.”

“No.” You shook your head. Rafe wouldn’t leave the lakehouse with all that it had. Everything you guys needed would be there, & he wouldn’t pack everything up just to move again. You felt strongly on the fact that they would still be there. “They’ll be there.”

“And how do you know that?”

Because he said I could find him. But you didn’t say anything, “I just know him. And, if it’s me who goes, he may let me take Adrianna.”

Bear shook his head, leaning against the wall to contemplate your words, “And if he doesn’t? Then we lose you & Nuha.”

“Just trust me, Bear.”

“I do. What I’m saying is I don’t trust him.” Bear frowned, “He’s a liar, _____. A murderer. Who knows how far gone he is now.”

“We have to try.” Your voice cracked as you tried to keep it low, “We have to.”

Bear stared hard at you, his lips pursed. Then he shook his head, “Okay. We’ll go. You head for them, I’ll go back to the house, see what else I can find.”

“Thank you, Bear!” You hugged him & he returned it half-heartedly.

“But we don’t tell Sayyed.”

What?

“You & I both know he won’t let you leave if he knows you’re going to Rafe. It’s best we just tell him you’re coming with me to the health nut house.”

You didn’t want to lie to Sayyed, but Bear was right. Sayyed would never take a risk that involved Rafe.

“Go get packed. I’ll let him know what we’re doing.”

Taking Bear’s advice, you leaped down the stairs to head to your bedroom. You quickly changed out of your loose fitting pj’s & into an outfit that would be fit for the couple day hike back tracking. Once you were all changed, you went into the kitchen to stock up on a few water bottles, the little snack foods you all had, & a couple items from a med kit.

Bear joined you in the kitchen shortly after in a change of clothes & his own gear.

“Got everything you’re gonna need?”

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

As you too finished gathering your things together, Bear led the way out. You two walked alongside one another towards the pond where you two would split off.

“What’d Sayyed say?”

Bear shrugged, “Not much. He’s scared. But he didn’t argue. Just said to be fast.”

You nodded, “And what are you going to tell him when you return tomorrow night without me?”

Bear gave a half-hearted laugh, “Hadn’t thought that far ahead but don’t worry about it. Just get Adrianna back here, without Rafe.”

You winced internally. You knew better than to think you could bring Adrianna back & only Adrianna. But Rafe did have a soft spot for you. Hopefully he’d let you two go. Alone.

“Be safe, Bear.” You turned to him. Bear ruffled the hair at the top of your head, “You, too. And if you’re not back by the time you should be…”

“Don’t come looking for me.” You told him.

Bear said nothing but you saw it in his eyes. He wouldn’t. He too wouldn’t risk bringing Rafe to where you all escaped to.

“We’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah.”

Hugging once more, you split off. Bear heading west, & you south.

A full moon hung over the woods as you stared into the dark depths of them. There was no going back, you reminded yourself. Nuha needed Adrianna. And you wouldn’t stop until you got to her. Rafe be damned.

Your body was aching, desperate to take a break, but you pushed forward. Time you had little of & there was a lot of backtracking to do. You were glad you have kept track of your movements with a map, sure that you were heading towards the lakehouse. The escape from it by car had been roughly two hours, but on foot, it’d take you over a day. The only time you would stop would be to sleep for a couple hours, then you’d be taking off again.

But ultimately, the trek was easy, if not tiring & stressful. You didn’t have time to think of a real plan to get Adrianna back. After all, Bear was right. It’d been another month since you had seen everyone & Rafe along with the others could’ve likely grown worse. His soft spot towards you may have hardened indefinitely. And if you appeared, there would be no guarantee to how he would react or treat you. You were taking a major risk. But you told yourself that if you felt deep in your gut that you couldn’t trust him, or them, then you would not be leading them back to where the rest of you were hidden out at. Even if it meant never returning again yourself. But you had to try, for Nuha.

Your couple hour nap in the woods had been restless, sleep never fully coming for you. But once it began to get just a little brighter out, you decided to finish the rest of the trip as quickly as possible to prevent yourself from overheating in the summer sun. If you were reading the map right, you were within ten miles of the lakehouse. You’d be there by midday. So, you hiked your backpack further up your shoulder & moved quickly.

When you reached the lake, you took to the woods. Not wanting to approach from the access road. You wanted to get a view of the lakehouse before moving closer, to even see if anyone was still there. As you stayed hidden along the trees by the shore, you slowly came near to the lakehouse. You crouched, peering through the bush to observe. At first, it looked totally abandoned. There was no movement from inside or outside the house. But as you crawled closer, you did spot a truck. Rafe’s truck.

You swallowed. They had to be here. Rafe wouldn’t leave his truck behind.

You weren’t one for religious practices, but you took just a moment to pray to a god, any god, to please make sure you’d be okay, that you’d succeed in recruiting Adrianna, & that you would make it back to Nuha in time.

Just as you were standing up, preparing to step out & make yourself known to anyone who may be nearby, you heard a twig snap directly behind you, making you freeze.

“Who the fuck are you?”

You cautiously raised your hands, showing that you were not a danger. But you didn’t dare look behind you.

The person behind you stepped closer, & you didn’t mistake the feel of the muzzle of a gun getting pressed against your shoulder blade.

“I said ‘who the fuck are you’?” You didn’t recognize the voice though. This was bad.

You fluttered your eyes closed, licking your lips, “I’m here to see Adrianna.”

“Adrianna?” The voice sounded suspicious, “How the fuck do you know Anna?”

This person was calling her Anna, too?

“We’re friends.” You replied softly, “At least I hope we are.”

Slowly, the person behind you circled to your front, & you finally faced with the man who was holding a gun to you.

You briefly recognized him as one of the men who was with Micah down by the shoreline that one day over a month ago. This was not a friend, not someone you could trust.

The man was rugged, the bags under his eyes prominent. He looked you from head to toe, clearly untrusting of you. When he finally met your eyes again, he smirked haughtily, “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the butt of his gun came flying towards you. And the next thing you knew, you were swallowed by darkness.

i apologize in advance for the late update. there has been a lot on my plate in my personal life that i'm still currently dealing with, but i wanted to at least get this filler chapter in. it's a small one & pretty rushed tbh because my head wasn't fully in it, but i hope it is adequate.

as always, please share your thoughts w me via comments, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. they help more than you know.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

Requests are currently CLOSED.

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @namelesslosers

if you want to be added to a tag list: follow my blog, interact with the work you want to be tagged for regularly, & follow the requirements to be added which you can find on my pinned post.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #non con fic #dark!fanfiction #dark!fic #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rise chapter ten

55 notes · View notes