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feelbokkie · 4 months

Text

Let’s Fall in Love, IRL | Chapter 20 (end)

pairing: Jisung x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, Pen pals to lovers, friend of a friend to lovers

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, mention of food, depictions of eating, depicitons of a panic attack

summary: When she was a child, L/n Y/n was in a horrible accident that left her face disfigured. After getting bullied relentlessly by her classmates for her appearance, Y/n escaped to the digital world where she meets Felix. Now an adult, Y/n has be come a complete social recluse, only talking to her 4 childhood best friends and roommates and her only friends. When Felix goes AFK one day in the middle of a game, Felix’s roommates decides to step in. Is this the start a new relationship or will Y/n’s crippling social anxiety get in the way?

taglist: CLOSED

word count: 7,165

screenshot count: 21

a/n: let's go out with a bang

previous | masterlist

"We can go home if you changed your mind. Just turn the car right around." Changbin suggests from the passenger seat.

"This is exactly why you're not driving the car, Bin." You hear Chan whisper.

"So you would force her to go in if she changed her mind?" Changbin says a little too loud.

You're sitting the the back seat of the car, wedged between Hyunjin and Seungmin. Inuyasha lays across each of your laps with his head in Seungmin's. You're parked in front of the restaurant Jisung told you to come to tonight.

The drive wasn't too long, but it was filled with hushed bickering, much of which Chan tried to drown out with music. Seungmin tried to keep your mind preoccupied with random conversation topics or poking extra fun at Changbin while Hyunjin's hand hasn't left the top of your head.

"Y/n, you must be nervous to meet Felix in person for the first time too," Seungmin says quietly as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"Now she's never leaving this car," Changbin whispers under his breath.

"Why would you say that, Seungmin?" Chan groans, leaning his head against the headrest

"Hey, Seungmin, did your parents give you brain damage when they were smacking you around by any chance?" Hyunjin sighs.

"Hyunjin," Chan warns.

"Yeah, probably. But I'm still smarter than you." Seungmin shoots back calmly.

Oddly enough, you're not nervous to meet Felix in person for the first time. Maybe it's because you've known Felix for years. Maybe it's because when you showed Felix your face for the first time, all he did was give you a bright smile and a soft, "Is that all?" And somehow, those three words comforted you so much that you spent the first 30 minutes of the call crying. Which, of course, made Felix cry. That somehow, you knew right then and there that Felix is someone you can keep in your small circle. And if Felix is vouching for Jisung, then maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

"None of that tonight," You let out the breath that you've been holding the entire week while you undo your seatbelt. "The orphan talk might make them uncomfortable because they won't know whether to laugh or cry. And Felix is already sensitive."

"What am I supposed to talk about then?" Seungmin whines as he moves to take off his seatbelt too.

"Oh, so we're doing this. Okay," Hyunjin hesitantly takes off his seatbelt.

"Just use that dazzling personality of yours," Chan suggests as he looks into the rearview mirror, his eyes settling on you.

"That's my entire personality. I've got nothing else. It's like if I poke out Y/n's good eye." Seungmin pouts, leaning back in his seat.

"Seungmin, please do not touch me or my eye."

"I...don't...think you can compare not being able to joke about our upbringing to being completely blind." Hyunjin finally opens his door.

"Yes I can, it's my sixth sense." Seungmin opens his door, letting Inuyasha out of the car before following suit.

"If you want something to talk about tonight, we can talk about the fact that we technically have a stepmom." Changbin huffs before exiting the car.

It's been an issue for the last few days. You mentioned to Seungmin that Chan has a girlfriend and of course, he would not let it rest. He went out of his way to wake both Hyunjin and Changbin from a dead sleep to tell them. The night ended with all three of them yelling at Chan and huffing off to their rooms. They still haven't moved on from it, despite Chan's long explanation at breakfast the next morning. Even you're a little hurt by the fact that he kept it a secret for so long. You know he mostly kept it to himself because of his abandonment issues, but three years is still a bit much.

"First of all, we're not married. Secondly, I explained to you why I didn't tell you guys. Finally, I apologized," Chan quickly shuts off the car and follows the rest of the guys outside.

And just like that, you're left alone in the car. You can feel every blood cell moving along your body as you stare at the restaurant. Except for Jisung, Felix, and their other two roommates, the building is empty. They promised you that much. Both of them reassured you that you wouldn't have to worry about other people the whole night. They rented out the entire restaurant for the night. They told you that their roommate is a chef who will take care of your meal while their other roommate will work as a waiter. Felix even let you meet the other two roommates, whose names escape you right now, during one of your calls to make you feel at ease.

But Jisung is in there.

Somehow, that's more terrifying than if you were going to a crowded restaurant. At least you know that the other patrons would be mostly focused on their meals to pay you any attention. But with this dinner, all the attention would be on you. All of Jisung's attention.

"Did you change your mind?" Seungmin asks bluntly as he sticks his head back in the car.

"N-no," You clear your throat before taking one more deep breath, "Let's go."

***

Somehow, Felix's voice is deeper in person. At least, that's the second thing you noticed. The first, he's taller than you imagined. Maybe because you're used to seeing him through a computer screen, you thought he would be shorter. But he's practically the same height as Chan and Jisung, if not just barely taller. Still, Seungmin and Hyunjin stand above him, making him as small as you've imagined him.

Felix was the first to greet you, running out of the restaurant to hug you. And then, after greeting Chan and your brothers, he whisked you away to some private section of the restaurant where the two of you caught up.

Now that you think about it, he must have done that to ease your nerves. Because now, as you sit across the table from Jisung, you seem to be hit with an overwhelming wave of anxiety. Chan is off in the kitchen helping Minho, a name that Felix reminded you of while you were talking earlier. Like the car ride over to the restaurant, Hyunjin and Seungmin are on either side of you while Inuyasha is spread across Changbin and Hyunjin's laps while he rests his head on you.

Please don't bark.

Seungmin and Felix are deeply engaged in a conversation about...something. You're not entirely sure what they started talking about or when they even started their conversation. Your mind is too preoccupied with other things. Like trying to keep your breathing level while playing with Inuyasha's fur.

But you're acutely aware of everything, everywhere, all at once. The way the fabric of your jeans is rubbing against your legs. And there is a string in your sock that unraveled so much that it's wrapped itself around your pinky toe. You're certain it'll cut off circulation any second. And there is a singular strand of hair that you swear is a needle that is stabbing your face. And all the microfibers of your face mask are rubbing against your face while you breathe. You're certain your face is red from irritation. And your palms are so sweaty, it feels more like you're using Innie as a towel than for comfort. And how the fibers of your sweater feel too scratchy against your back—

For the love of god, calm the fuck down.

But how can you? Jisung is less than six feet away from you. He was less than a foot away from you last time when--

Do not think about that now.

"Here's some water," Jeongin, the name you did remember because his nickname had been the butt of many jokes over video chats, says as he comes up behind you, balancing a tray with water on it. He places one cup at Chan's empty seat next to Seungmin before passing the rest out.

"Wow, In-ah, you didn't drop one," Jisung teases, finally speaking for the first time tonight.

Ba...badum

Inuyasha lifts his head, looking directly at you as your heart skips a beat. You squeeze your eyes shut as you gently pet his head back down.

"I've been practicing," He smirks as he places the last cup in front of Changbin. "Plus, Lino hyung said he's going to fine me if I break anything tonight."

"So you're not going to have your half of the rent this month?" Felix asks, smirking in amusement.

Jeongin's mouth pulls into a tight smile, his eyes turning into two little half-moons as he tilts his head. "Just for that, I'm going to make sure I drop your plate, hyung."

“Cute and scary at the same time. Reminds me of when Y/n gets mad.” Hyun coos at the younger boy.

“Y/n? Mad?” A smile that would make the Cheshire cat jealous spreads across Felix's face. Almost like his new mission in life is to piss you off.

“Yeah, I mean it’s kind of scary because she never gets mad but at the same time it’s cute. She’ll just start swearing up a storm, using swear words that none of us were aware that she even knew. And then she makes this face...kinda like that,” Changbin points to you. Just as Felix and Jisung turn their attention to you, you relax your face.

“That might be my fault," Felix says, grinning sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Get better at gaming and you won’t be mad all the time.” Han deadpans.

You can't help but chuckle at that comment. Jisung's attention is back on you, blinking as he’s taken aback by your sudden reaction. His blinks are as long and slow as the smile that’s crossing his face. His mouth is slightly parted with just a hint of his teeth sticking out beneath his top lip. A tender smile that’s so simple and yet, somehow so contagious, you can’t help the small grin that appears on your face. You’ve never been more thankful for your mask.

“But she doesn’t stay mad for long and doesn’t hold a grudge,” Seungmin adjusts himself in his seat, just barely turning his back towards you as he leans into Felix and Jisung.“Unlike Hyunjin,”

“Excuse me? You refused to talk to me for three entire months once! Only referred to me as ‘that guy’ or ‘that thing’ whenever you had to talk about me.” Hyunjin stares at Seungmin, who you now realize turned his back towards Hyunjin and not you, in disbelief. His jaw slack and eyes wide as he fights the urge to start another argument with Seungmin.

Seungmin smirks as he leans back into his chair, amused by Hyunjin’s sudden annoyance. “Did I? Oh well, you must have deserved it.”

"He definitely remembers and is pretending not to.” Changbin waved off, trying to distract Hyunjin.

“Yang Jeongin!”

“Oh shit,” Jeongin mutters under his breath as he quickly retreats to the kitchen, nearly knocking over a plant in the process.

You look around the restaurant, taking in the atmosphere. It’s not a big restaurant. It’s more of a hole-in-the-wall barbecue restaurant that happens to be popular. It’s a bit cramped with only eight tables. Each table is situated with its own grill, except for the table that you’re sitting at which has two. You can only imagine how hot when the restaurant is packed. You’re already feeling a bit warm from the grill in front of you being on. Still, you’re excited to actually be out to eat barbecue. You can’t remember the last time you went out and ate at a restaurant. Was it Chan’s university graduation or Changbin’s fire academy competition ceremony? It was some sort of celebration. Maybe a birthday? You’re not entirely sure, you were too anxious to even eat properly that night, let alone remember why you were there. Inuyasha wasn’t properly trained yet so he came along but wasn’t much help.

The restaurant is similar. A few plants to offset the reds and browns from the exposed brick walls. Low lights and kitchen vents hang over the cool, wooden tables. The wood tables at barbecue restaurants never made sense to you. With an open stove in the middle, it always seemed more like a safety issue. No matter how many times Changbin tries to explain it to you, you will never fully understand.

“Make way,” Minho says as he, Jeongin, and Chan walk into the dining area holding plates of raw meat, vegetables, and side dishes. They bring enough out for both sides of the table.

You’re not sure how expensive all of this is. You know it couldn’t have been cheap. You tried to get Felix to tell you something earlier so you could pay them back. He insisted that it was practically free. The owners of the restaurant owed Minho a favor. Still, you aren’t entirely convinced.

“Innie, time to get off my lap,” You pat Inuyasha’s head as Jeongin lights the grill on your side of the table. Inuyasha hops off your lap and sits between you and Hyunjin.

“I’m…not in your lap?” Jeongin freezes, his face turning pale.

“She’s talking to her dog,” Chan explains, laughing at the younger man’s confusion.

“Oh that’s going to get confusing, isn’t it?” Minho asks as he sets up the food at his side of the table.

“Hm,” Han hums as he scoots his chair back in, “how about we call them Innie and Human Innie?”

“Hey, why am I ‘Human’ Innie? Why can’t I just be Innie? He’s a dog!” Jeongin whines as he takes his seat between Minho and Felix.

Everyone, excluding you, can’t help but laugh at Jeongin’s distress as he pouts. Even though everyone else laughs, Jisung’s attention is still on you. Although, you don’t notice this time. Your mind is too occupied with what to do next. You slowly roll your sleeves up before quietly getting your hand sanitizer from your bag. Part of it is that you want to clean your hands after all the sweat and touching of Inuyasha’s fur. The other part is that you need something to do with your hands.

Badum

You’re going to have to take your mask off soon. It’s inevitable. It’ll end up being more awkward if you don’t or if you withhold from eating altogether. You feel Inuyasha settle his head in your lap again as you readjust your sleeves again. You’re not sure if it’s because of the two grills that are on or if it’s just you, but you feel significantly hotter. You rather take off your sweater right now to cool down than take off your mask.

I didn’t think this through.

“Damnit,” Hyunjin mutters beside you. Your eyes shift over to him and Changbin. They must have played a game to decide who is going to cook. Hyunjin mutters a string of swears as he grabs a pair of gloves, clearly a sore loser.

At home, you and Chan are always the ones in charge of grilling. Occasionally Changbin will take over if he thinks the meat isn’t getting cooked properly. Hyunjin and Seungmin, on the other hand, hate the pressure of being in charge of the food.

“I can do that if you want,” You suggest. Maybe cooking is the distraction you need. You’ll be too focused on cooking to get to eat much.

“It’s fine, I got it,” He smiles, playing with the tongs. “What should I cook first?”

“Meat,” Changbin suggests.

“Y/n, Felix, Jisung, any suggestions?” He asks, ignoring Changbin.

“Meat, cook the meat,” Changbin tries again.

“You didn’t want to cook, you don’t get a say in anything.”

“Hey!” Changbin yells, startling Jeongin on the other side of the table.

Chan, holding the tongs and scissors for his side of the table, leans back over his chair. He silently warns Changbin with the scissors before going back to whatever conversation he was having with his half of the table, partly apologizing on Changbin’s behalf. Seungmin puts his hand on your knee, stopping you from bouncing the leg you weren’t aware was moving in the first place. You mumble out a quiet ‘sorry’ as you focus your attention back on anywhere but Jisung or dinner. Seungmin, noticing you’re starting to freak out quietly flips his hand over, offering you his hand. You don’t hesitate to take it.

“Oh wow, he really is like a parent. Reminds me of how my mom is with me and my—Ah, sorry,” Jeongin bites his tongue and apologizes to the five of you.

All of you are used to it. Less people made fun of the fact none of you had parents than people would have you believe. Sure, there was the occasional asshole who would come along and try to use that information against you. But it hurt significantly less than when people would mention their parents and then freeze, almost like a deer caught in headlights. They’re panicking, you know they are. And then they apologize for committing the sin of mentioning the fact that they have at least one parent in their lives. And then they wait. Like you might spontaneously combust or burst into tears any second. Or the back peddling when a classmate would mention hating theirs over something so mundane like taking away their phones for bad grades. Guilt because none of you had parents. It was the universal look that people had when they looked at the five of you. Teachers would always mention something about parents their eyes would always land on one of you. It’s exhausting. When the four of you moved to Seoul to live with Chan, there was a silent agreement amongst the four of you to just refer to Chan as your dad whenever you talked about him. New place, fresh start. It gave you all a break from the looks of guilt and pity until Chan had to come to pick all four of you up from school one day after Changbin got into a fight.

“What’s a parent?” Seungmin questions him, tilting his head to the side “Is it like a TV show or some—Ow! When did you get so strong?”

“What happened?” Changbin asks, leaning over Hyunjin to see what the commotion is about.

You squeezed Seungmin’s hand as tightly as you could to get him to shut up. It might be all the anxiety pumping through your veins right now, but you squeezed tighter than you intended to, causing Seungmin to look at you in betrayal. All you offer him back is a warning look, silently reminding him of what you said in the car.

“My wings have been clipped,” Seungmin rolls his eyes and leans back into his seat, still holding onto your hand.

Hyunjin hovers his hand over the grill, checking if it’s hot enough before putting some shrimp and pork belly on one side and vegetables on the other. “I mean, we technically have a mom—sorry, a step-mom. So we basically have a full set of parents.”

“Hyunjin, don’t start that right now. I said I was sorry,” Chan sighs.

“Get on your knees and bow down if you really are sorry. For three hours,” Hyunjin’s eyes refuse to leave the grill, focusing on cooking, “One for each year you didn’t tell us.”

“His old ass knees can barely handle squats and you want him to kneel for three hours?” Changbin questions.

“New family drama?” Felix asks, leaning in towards you. Jisung does his best to look busy and not listen in on the drama.

“Apparently, that guy over there has been dating one of the doctors at his job for three years and kept it from us.” You explain quietly.

“Y/n, not you too! What do you mean ‘that guy over there?’” Chan groans. Minho takes the tongs and scissors away from him and takes over cooking.

Seungmin starts grabbing bowls of rice from the center of the table and begins to pass them out to everyone on your side of the table. Your hand instinctively wraps around Seungmin’s as you think about having to take your mask off again. The conversation was a welcomed distraction from the racing thoughts in your brain. But a simple bowl of rice is enough to bring you back to reality. To why you’re here.

Calm down.

You’re starving. You’ve been too nervous all day to eat more than a snack and drink some water. But the smell of all the food being cooked around you that’s seeping through your mask is making your stomach growl. You’re almost certain that everyone at the table can hear it. Even the braised eggplant sitting in front of you looks delicious. You dislike eggplant. You don’t hate it like Hyunjin does, you just dislike it. You’re used to it now after years of secretly eating all the foods Hyunjin doesn’t like so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But now, you’re fully considering eating all of the eggplant.

If only you could take your mask off. If only you could muster up all of the courage in the world and just rip it off. Be normal, for once in your life, just be normal. You’re acutely aware that you haven’t said a single word since you and Felix joined the larger group. You also know that Felix pulled you away to talk to ease you into the group situation. You wish he didn’t have to do that. You wish none of this had to be like this. That you could just have dinner with your friends and family like normal. Like everyone else.

For the love of god, please just calm dow—

*Tap*

Your head snaps up towards Felix and Jisung. Felix, unfazed, continues his conversation with Seungmin and Jeongin to notice you looking at him. Your eyes settle on Jisung, who gives you a soft smile. His eyes, so gently yet so full of concern. It’s almost like he could sense you freaking out and tried to draw you out before you started to panic.

You’re aware that Jisung also hasn’t said a single word all evening. Everyone else seems to be doing the heavy lifting of conversing for the two of you. You’re grateful that dinner is a larger group event. You can only imagine how badly it would have gone if it was just the two of you again. You probably would have stayed home.

“Y/n, ah…” Hyunjin says, turning towards you. His eyes are focused on the shrimp at the end of the tongs as he blows on it.

“Hey, why does she get the first piece?” Changbin whines as Hyunjin has his back to him.

“You know the rules, youngest first. You go last, Grandpa.” Seungmin reminds him.

Badum

“Grandpa?” Changbin cries.

Badum

“Yeah, you’re the oldest one on this side of the table so you’ve been promoted to grandpa. Congratulations,” Seungmin smirks, earning a laugh from Felix.

Badum

“I’m going to push your head in the grill,” Changbin threatens.

Badum

Seungmin feigns shock, holding his hand over his mouth. “Isn’t your job literally the opposite of that? How are you still employed?”

Badum

“Report him to the city. I’ll be a witness,” Felix adds, placing his hand on Seungmin’s shoulder, pretending to comfort him.

Badum

“Y/n, hurry up and take it. I know you’re hungry and the samgyeopsal is burning.”

Badum, badum

Your eyes look at the shrimp, and then at everyone else. They’re all in their own little worlds, barely paying you any attention. Chan, Minho, and Jeongin are busy cooking and talking about something trivial. Seungmin and Felix are too busy talking past you, picking on Changbin together. Jisung is now stuffing his oversized cheeks with rice and taking over the cooking. Inuyasha moves his paw to your lap, almost like he’s trying to comfort you.

Badum, badum, badum

Your hand shakily moves to pull down your mask, pausing as your fingertips brush against the thin fabric. You take a few deep breaths before pulling it down below your chin. You freeze for a second, waiting to hear terrified screams or for the world to stop spinning or for the cops to burst through the doors or…anything.

BADUM, BADUM, BADUM

Nothing.

The conversations going on around you continue, uninterrupted as your heart pounds in your chest and ears like a drum. You squeeze your eyes and let out all of the air in your body before finally taking the shrimp from Hyunjin.

“…Mm!” You hum happily, the corners of your mouth turning up into a small smile.

“Cute,” Jisung whispers under his breath. You almost didn’t hear him. Still, despite the drumming of your heart in your ears and the loud conversations going on around you, you heard him.

“CuTe,” Felix and Seungmin tease in unison. Your eyes move to meet a tomato-faced Jisung who is now scowling at the pair of new best friends.

“Oh!” Jisung shouts suddenly, causing you to jump in your seat. Seungmin gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, turning his attention back on you.

Jisung gets up from the table and runs off to the door near the kitchen. Your heart refuses to settle in your chest as he stays hidden in the room. You know logically that you didn’t scare him off again. He’s seen your face, he knows what to expect, but still, your hand moves instinctively to pull your mask back up just as he reappears in the room.

“Dou demo ii you na yoru dakedo

Doyomeki kirameki to kimi mo”

“I love this song! We should go out and do karaoke after this,” Jeongin suggests as NIGHT DANCER plays overhead, quickly forgetting why everyone is there in the first place. Almost like it’s a normal dinner with friends.

Normal.

You bite your bottom lip before slowly lowering your hand, leaving your mask down. Still on edge, you slowly relax into your chair, trying to calm yourself down. “Hanji sings this song really well,” Your voice wavers.

“Hannie sang for you? Wow, he really is cheating on me, huh?” Minho’s hand goes over his chest, miming his heart breaking.

“Hyung, stop it. She’s going to misunderstand,” Jisung whines, pouting at his roommate.

“You’re breaking apart our family, don’t get mad at me. Just think of the children. Yongbok is right there, this could traumatize him.” He adds fuel to the fire, causing Jisung to get more flustered.

“If everyone’s up for it, there’s a karaoke bar not too far from here,” Felix suggests as he takes a piece of the freshly cut meat that Hyunjin put on a plate.

“Actually,” Jisung turns to face you, catching your attention. “Y/n, can we go on a walk after dinner and talk?”

BADUM, BADUM

“S-sure,” You stutter, averting your eyes.

***

“Oh my god, I’m so full,” Han groans as he stretches.

The two of you walk side by side along the sidewalk. It’s cold and dark. Thick blankets of snow cover the streets. The only things illuminating the street are the yellow-tinted lights from the street lamps that line the street and the soft white string lights from various Christmas decorations. The Christmas music playing overhead is louder than it was when you went out with Chan last week. A haunting reminder that Christmas is next week. If you weren’t already done with your shopping, you’d be panicking.

“So,” You clear your throat, “are you going to visit your parents for the holidays?”

Throughout dinner, the two of you relaxed quite a bit. The music and your brothers help to calm you down. Mostly. There were still moments when you would lock eyes with Jisung and he would have a stupid look on his face. Then you’d turn red or drop something at one point, and you got so flustered, that you accidentally put kimchi in one of the wraps you were making for Hyunjin because he was still too busy cooking. You know he’s never going to shut up about how you 'tried to kill him' for the rest of your life. And then Felix began teasing both you and Jisung after you helped Jisung pick up a perilla leaf while talking to Felix. Jisung stopped fully functioning for about 5 minutes.

“Y/n, Y/n, I’m having trouble picking this leaf up, can you help me?” Felix would ask every couple of minutes after the incident, earning a glare from Jisung.

But now, as the two of you walk side by side with Inuyasha, you’re back to being anxious. Your heart is in your throat, drumming straight into your brain.

The talk.

You knew the entire night that this was going to happen. And still, you mistakenly let yourself get comfortable throughout the night and let your guard down. The two of you have to address what happened on your birthday. When your mask broke and he saw your face without any warning.

“…oh fuck…”

Jisung’s voice replays in your head along with his terrified look. Just like it has been every day since your birthday. The same incessant phrase that played in your mind like a broken record. You were slowly forgetting all the good moments from your date, all of them being replaced by that moment, no matter how much you tried to forget it.

“Not this year,” Jisung sighs. “My brother is doing his military service, my dad is on a business trip, and my mother is back in Malaysia helping a sick friend. We’re doing a makeup thing in February when my brother gets home.”

“So then are you spending Christmas alone?” You ask, turning to Jisung. You can see the white puff of his breath in the chilled air.

“No, Felix can’t go home this year so the two of us are doing something the day of. Minho hyung and Jeongin aren’t going home until the 23rd so the four of us are having a mini-party on the 22nd. You can come if you want. Bring everyone, I think Minho hyung loves not being the oldest.”

Badum

“It’s okay, I don’t want to intrude.” You say innocently.

Jisung stops dead in his tracks. You stop walking too, which causes Inuyasha to stop and turn back to you, confused. He turns his full body to you, lightly tugging on your arm. You turn to face him, giving him your full attention.

Badum

“What if I want you there?” He tilts his head to the side, “What if that’s my Christmas wish?”

Badum

There’s a strange air of confidence around him that takes you off guard. And for some reason, it makes you nervous.

“I-I…”

“Ah,” Jisung suddenly crouches down to the ground, clutching his head. “That was so lame, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that, I’m not like that at all. I mean, I want you there but the Christmas wish thing—I am so sorry.”

“Hanji…Jisung…stand up,” You call softly.

“I just like you a lot. It makes me say stupid shit,” He mumbles. “Sometimes I say stupid shit on purpose to make you laugh.”

Badum

“Why?” Your grip on Inuyasha’s leash tightens.

Badum, badum

“Because your laugh is really pretty,” He scoffs like it’s the most obvious answer and you offended him by questioning it.

Badum, badum

“No, I mean,” You dig your foot further into the snow. “Why do you like me?”

Badum, badum

“You’re kind, funny, caring, and you’re good at a lot of things. And you’re smart as hell. Why wouldn’t I like you?”

Badum, badum

You can count all the reasons why Jisung shouldn’t like you on both of your hands. For one, being you is mentally taxing, you can’t even imagine how tiring being with you will be. You feel bad enough that your family has to take care of you. You can’t do simple things like go to the grocery store without being on the verge of a panic attack. How are you supposed to go on dates? And then there’s your overall family situation. The dysfunction of it all. It works for you, you’re used to it. But letting outsiders like Jisung can be a lot too. The five of you understand each other in ways nobody else can understand. In ways you don’t want anyone else to understand. And even if Jisung can withstand all of that, the highs and lows of your mental health, your family, there’s no way he will be able to be with you. The looks the two of you will get when you’re out together. From passersby who will look at the two of you and question why he’s with you. The whispers that are a part of you. The critical stares. You’ve dealt with all that for most of your life and even you can’t deal with it. What makes him any different?

Badum, badum

“I can name one big reason,”

Badum, badum

“Hm?” Jisung hums, standing up and making direct eye contact with you.

Badum, badum, badum

You press your lips together and squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. Your eyes begin to sting as tears start to fill your eyes. You keep your eyes shut, preventing the tears from flowing over. You take a few deep breaths before pulling your mask off. The cool air nips at your lips just before you slowly open your eyes.

Badum, badum

“How could you like me?” You all but shout. “I scared you off last time, what’s stopping you now? What if you find someone more deserving to be with you? You should be with someone who deserves you.”

Badum, badum

“That’s you,”

Ba..badum, badum

“What?”

“You’re someone who deserves me…You’re worthy of me. There’s nobody else. If anything, I don’t deserve you. I’m not even worthy of your presence, let alone you.”

Badum, badum

“What are you…?”

Badum, badum

Jisung’s hand slowly reaches towards your face, out of habit, you flinch.

“Please?” He whispers softly, practically begging.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You hesitate for a moment, looking between Jisung and his hand as you try to absorb all of the information you’ve collected in a short matter of time. Eventually, you nod, freezing in place as Jisung starts moving his hand again towards your face. You don’t even breathe as Jisung’s ice-cold hand brushes against your forehead, moving your bangs out of the way, your entire face exposed. His fingers feel like burning fire on your skin.

BADUM, BADUM, BADUM, BADUM

“I wasn’t scared when I saw your face. I mean I was scared—But not of you. I was scared for you. I knew you weren’t ready yet and I was scared of all the terrifying thoughts that racing through your mind. The look on your face scared me. I know that look—I knew how you were feeling and I didn’t want you to feel that way. I hate the way my anxiety makes me feel but I would have gladly taken away your anxiety and felt it for you if that made you happy.”

Badum, badum, badum, badum

Inuyasha walks over to Jisung and presses his nose into his leg. Both of you ignore it. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you,” He says simply as if it’s a casual conversation.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

“You…love….me?” Your mouth hangs slightly open in shock.

“I’ve known it for a while, I think, but tonight confirmed it for sure.”

“Why?” Now you’re the broken record.

“Hm,” Jisung places a finger on his bottom lip. His eyes look up like he’s trying to search for an answer. “I could just tell you all the reasons right now. Or I can tell you all the little things I love about you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“The rest of our lives?” You parrot.

Your body is as frozen as the ice on the street as your mind swirls with all the information and sweet words coming out of Jisung’s mouth. He’s making your mind swirl. But in a good way.

“Uh huh, the rest of our lives. And you want to know why? Because I love you. I want to be with you. I want to call you cute little pet names and hold your hand. And just sit around and do nothing with you. I want to stare at your pretty face all day. And be there whenever you need me. And, oh my god, I want to kiss you so fucking bad. It’s insane. I think I need to be hosed down.”

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You stand, unmovable for a moment. Jisung loves you. He wants to be with you. He wants to kiss you. You. All you can do is blink slowly as all of your thoughts leave your mind. You want to do something or say something but all you can do is stare at Jisung, specifically the curves of his lips imagining how they would feel against yours. You imagine they’d be as soft as his fingers were just a moment ago. And you dangerously begin to imagine your future together. A future where you can be together without judgment. Without fear.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

“…Then…why don’t you?” You question, almost immediately regretting it the second it came out of your mouth.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You’re not sure where this new confidence is coming from but you love it. You stand there, waiting in anticipation as Inuyasha makes his way over to you, pressing his nose against your leg now.

“What?” Jisung’s smile drops.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

“You said you wanted to kiss me, then go ahead.”

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You’re not sure why you’re being so bold. Maybe this is the only time you get a kiss. Maybe because it’s Jisung. For the first time, you don’t care. You don’t care about the fact that Jisung might change his mind one day. You don’t care about your face being out while people are walking around. It’s silly to think that this is all because of a man, but Jisung is somehow giving you the confidence you need.

Jisung stares at you for a moment, all of his confidence gone. You’re almost certain you stole it. He runs his hand through his hair before he mutters something under his breath and starts leaning in.

BADUM, BADUM, BADUM, BADUM

You close your eyes, waiting for the feel of Jisung’s lips on yours. Your heart is making its way up your throat. At this rate, your heart might just leap out of your mouth and kiss Jisung instead.

Konk!

You grab your forehead and drop to your knees. Oh course you would bump heads during your first kiss. You can’t just have one moment, can you? You can’t imagine what this scene looks like to even else. You’re both on the floor, holding your head. It was a soft his but Jisung’s head is so hard, it’s like running into a metal bat.

“Ah shit, are you okay?” Jisung crouches down to your level, seemingly unaffected, and begins rubbing the spot he hit.

“You have a hard head!” You whine.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Here,” Jisung stops rubbing your forehead and places a soft, warm kiss on the red spot on your head.

Jisung pulls away. And stares at you. Your head is throbbing and you’re no longer sure if it’s because of your anxiety or the pain from hitting the bulldozer that is Han Jisung’s forehead. After what feels like forever, Jisung places a finger under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. He remains quiet, thinking about something before he crashes his lips into yours.

It’s a simple kiss, just your lips touching. And yet, it's enough to make your head spin and melt the ice that has been freezing your body the entire time you’ve been outside. It feels like time is frozen and the two of you are in your own little bubble.

Just as quickly as it happened, Jisung pulls his lips away. Concern fills his face as he tries to read yours. He slowly relaxes his face and lets out a relieved sigh when he realized that you’re not freaking out. If your brain was functioning, it would be. You’re absolutely certain that he broke your brain when he head-butted you.

“I want to do that for the rest of our lives too,” The corner of his mouth turns up into a sly smirk, “if you’ll let me?”

“I’m scared,” You whisper, barely audible.

“I’m scared too. It’s terrifying to let someone in. We can be scared together.”

Again, you let your mind wander as you imagine your future with Jisung. Dates the two of you might go on. All the jokes you two can share. A future with a wedding and maybe a kid or two if you two saw fit. And the thought of living a life where he might not be in it because you let your fear and anxieties get in the way causes your heart to race even more.

Inuyasha lets out one loud bark, causing worry to flash over Jisung’s face again.

“I…” Your voice falters, unsure of what words to say next. You know what you want to say, but the words are missing. They’re on the pavement being trampled by everyone walking by.

“If you’re not ready, I understand. I’ll wait for you, you’re worth waiting for.”

“I…” You take a deep breath in before letting go of Inuyasha’s leash and grabbing onto Jisung’s collar. You pause for a moment, playing every possible outcome in your head. The good, the bad, the ugly. But all of that is being overshadowed by Jisung.

BADUM

You just want to be normal.

BADUM

To be happy.

BADUM

Without a second thought, you pull Jisung towards you, pressing your lips together one last time. After a second, you separate from him and rest your forehead on his, hot tears falling down your face.

You’re scared. You’re scared of Jisung waking up one day and realizing that he doesn’t want to be with you. That he’ll turn out like everyone else. That he doesn’t actually love you and that he just thinks he does. But there’s something inside that keeps gnawing at you that you’ve never felt before. You feel it in your chest and the pit of your stomach. It’s so unfamiliar that it scares you.

BADUM

Hope

“I…I want to be with you,” You choke out.

Jisung chuckles, his hot breath tickling your face. He places both of his hands on either side of your face and pulls his face back. A large smile spread across his cheeks, you’re scared it’s going to break his face.

“Okay,” He replies softly before pressing one more gentle kiss into your lips.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @phtogravi @lilcutieana @veedoesntknaur @yongbbokkie @brain-empty-only-draken @thisisnotjacinta @thefangirloncrack @chlodavids @heartz4chuu @sunshinessky @reverse-soe @itshannjisung @angelsandtimelords @zeejones @liknws @marked-unknown @sansona @aaasia111 @jhstayy @aslou @hyunbae-35 @kangaracharacha @skz-streamer @btskzfav @weird-bookworm @jihanniee @everglowdaisies @puppysmileseungmin

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silent-stories · 6 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: After moving to Hawkins for a fresh start, you meet a boy with kind, brown eyes who will quickly become a friend and maybe something more. The only problem is: you took something that belongs to him by accident and now you don't know what to do.

Part 1

When your alarm went off the next morning, you nearly fell out of bed.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, raising a hand to cover your eyes hit by the sun's rays streaming through the window of your messy bedroom.

As you got out of bed, you suddenly remembered that the night before you had fallen asleep after reading the first sentence written in the notebook that you had found in your bag and that most likely belonged to Eddie.

You found it at the foot of the bed and picked it up, making sure the picture of the unknown woman was still inside it and put it inside the backpack you were going to take to school without really knowing what to do with it.

You grabbed the first pair of ripped jeans you found in the corner and put them on with a random shirt before leaving your room. To do that you stepped over an old art project and a mannequin foot left on the floor, and you mentally promised yourself that if you ever moved again in your life you wouldn't take all that stuff with you. You hoped that you would soon find the will to sort out your things.

“Aren't you having breakfast?” Your aunt asked when she saw you ready to leave the house.

“No, I'm already late. And I promised Eddie we'd meet in the parking lot in front of school.”

“Oh, alright.” She commented with her usual smirk when you talked about Eddie.

“I told you not to look at me with that face!” You yelled at her with a laugh as you left the house.

You crossed the garden and got into your car. “Hey, Casper.” You spoke to the skeleton sitting in the passenger seat as you started driving towards school.

“If you were in my place what would you do, hm?” You asked the inanimate object, “I know that keeping the notebook is not the right choice: it doesn't belong to me. But what can I tell him “hey, I found a notebook where you wrote a lot of personal facts about yourself but don't worry, I know it sounds incredible but I haven't even opened it. I just know it's most likely yours."

You sighed. "It's ridiculous. If I give it back he'll think I read it anyway, won't he? So I can read it anyway, right?"

The only response you got was the sound of bones rattling and hitting each other when you drove over one of the bumps in the road.

You knew they said that curiosity killed the cat but you couldn't help but think that you wanted to read everything written in that notebook.

You parked your car in the first free space you found in front of the school, some students looked at your car with a mixture of surprise and concern, and to your big surprise, you saw Eddie with his arms crossed and his back against what must have been his van talking to Dustin, the boy you had met the previous morning.

Did everyone in that town know each other or was it a coincidence?

Whatever they were chatting about didn't really matter because when you reached them they stopped talking, Eddie looked up and when his eyes met yours, he had a smile on his lips. "Hey stranger." He greeted you.

You wondered if he had that reaction with everyone or if it was something he reserved only for you but you doubted the first option was the right answer, and just thinking about that made you smile the same way.

"Hey."

“Wait, you guys already know each other?” Dustin asked, moving his gaze between you and Eddie.

“Well, I called her a stranger, of course not.” Eddie joked and you rolled your eyes. He was wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt and the same denim vest as the previous day.

"Yeah, something like that." You said to the kid, "and he promised me a tour of the school. I hope he hasn't forgotten already."

“Oh, how could I?” He brought a hand to his chest pretending that your supposition hurt him, "I have an honor to respect. I made a promise to a fair lady and i need to respect it."

You chuckled. "Then lead the way."

You said a quick "bye" to Dustin before Eddie walked off towards school and you followed him until he suddenly stopped.

"But first I really have to ask you something."

For a moment you thought it was about the notebook, your mouth went dry in a few seconds.

“Where the hell did you find that thing?” He pointed to the skeleton sitting in your car a few feet away from you.

You burst out laughing both for the relief that his question didn't involve his lost item and for the funny way he asked you the question.

"Well, it was my last day of school and I was in my old biology class..."

During the tour, you realized that the jogs must not have liked Eddie very much and the feeling was definitely mutual. The first time a boy in a green and white jacket, identical to the one worn by the guy who tried to steal Dustin's hat, had shouldered Eddie while you were walking down the halls you thought it was an accident. The second time must have been a coincidence. The third time you understood that they were doing it on purpose.

"Don't worry about them, they try to act tough but they're all assholes who like to annoy people like me." You stopped in front of English class, the first one of your day, a sign that the tour was over. From the way he spoke, it almost seemed like he was trying to reassure you even if you didn't need it.

"Like you?"

"Yeah, the freaks."

You tilted your head to the side, studying his expression and trying to figure out if he was serious or joking. "You are not a freak."

"Well, you might be surprised by the rumors going around Hawkings about me." His brown eyes were kind, as always.

"What rumors?"

The bell rang and the students began to enter their respective classrooms.

"Oh, I think you'll find out soon. See you, okay?"

“O-Okay…” You mumbled before Eddie walked away and disappeared into the sea of students.

You sighed, then walked into the classroom and sat at an empty desk at the back.

If he didn't want to talk about his secrets then you would find out on your own.

You opened your backpack and grabbed the little brown notebook.

You started reading as the teacher started talking about an old poem you didn't really care about.

I realized that I almost don't remember her anymore and that's the thing that scares me the most. I don't want to forget her.

She's been gone for years now, and I thought I had a grip on the memories, but they're starting to slip away now and I'm so fucking scared one day I won't remember her at all.

I used to hear her voice in my head, clear as day. Now, it's like tuning into a distant radio station with too much static. I find myself straining to remember the way she'd say my name or the casual "How was your day?" It's fucking frustrating, and it scares me that one day, even those snippets will be probably gone.

I don't wanna forget her.

At night, I close my eyes, trying to summon the feeling of being wrapped up in her arms. It's elusive, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm losing something fundamental. I miss that safe place and it's fucking embarassing.

I'm an adult now and I still miss my mom. Embarassing.

I catch glimpses of her in old photographs, frozen moments that I clutch onto desperately. But even those are starting to feel like stories I've heard rather than moments I've lived.

And it scares me. It scares me because it feels like losing her all over again.

You looked away from the notebook. You closed your eyes for a moment and inhaled air through your nose, the teacher's voice only a backdrop to your thoughts much louder than her words.

What you had read were private things, things you shouldn't have read and yet you couldn't help but continue to do so.

They were things he had probably never talked about to anyone if he felt the need to write them there, it was a vulnerable part of himself that he had decided to hide in that notebook and you were invading it.

The single page you had read had made you want to give the biggest hug to that boy who you had only known for a little more than a day and who was probably way sweeter than he wanted to let others see.

"Shit." You muttered to yourself for the second time that day.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

The only good thing: @corrodedseraphine @definitionwanderlust @paleidiot

Okay I'm already losing interest in this series sorry lol if you won't seen an update in years you know why

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x alt!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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word-wytch · 1 year

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 9

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 9/? 4.4k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ There are two things you are learning very well — the volumes of a few words, and the impact of a touch.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: mild angst, longing, mild exploration through touch

Frost. The first of the year.

It covered the leaves that littered the parking lot outside your apartment in swirling fractals and crunched beneath your boots.

Barely out of October and you could already feel winter knocking at your door.

The sky was awash in a pale blue-grey as the sun came up behind the overcast clouds. The rain from the weekend brought down most of the leaves, though some of the more reluctant ones still clung to the trees in patches of yellow and orange.

You unlocked the door to your red Chevy Nova and dropped your leather satchel on the passenger’s seat.

The fog that had settled in your mind lifted just enough to get your papers graded. Just enough to get most of the dishes washed. The laundry could wait.

You turned the key in the ignition and — nothing. Well, it wasn’t nothing, there was a clicking that got louder the harder you forced the key forward.

“Come on.”

Had you left your lights on by accident? It wouldn’t be the first time. The lights were turning on though. You threw your weight into the brakes as you turned the key harder. Over and over it whined and whirred and clicked until finally the engine awoke with a rumble.

You blamed the cold.

Happy Monday.

The thing about the fog is that once it settled it was hard to lift completely. You would enter the teacher’s lounge in a daze. You would go through the motions of pouring yourself your second cup of coffee, of finding an open milk carton. Of putting on a bright face and saying hello as you make small talk with the faculty, though your mind was miles away.

You would sit down on the old, threadbare chair at your desk and review your lesson plans for the day while your mind struggled to adjust to the whirring chaos around you. The fuzzy voice over the loudspeaker. The ringing of bells and hundreds of voices echoing off the lockers in the hallway. The teenagers that you were responsible for filtering into your classroom, the energy of this weekend carrying over into their laughter and antics.

You would put on that bright face and pull yourself together, though the fog was thick with thoughts you couldn’t seem to shake. Sometimes you were grateful for the distraction of your class — tangible and in need of attention. Other times the mask got heavy. It was hard to breathe behind. There were times when all you wanted to do was hide, but the mask offered little protection.

At the top of fourth period, you stood at the front of the classroom like you always did, checking little marks by the names in your grading binder as your eyes scanned down the rows. You paused when you got to Eddie’s.

His seat was empty.

Your stomach dropped, as did your face. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You wondered if they noticed the change in your expression.

Maybe he’s just running late.

Maybe he’s sick.

You steadied the pencil in your hand, took a deep breath, and continued on down the rows. Inside your heart was racing, mind spinning with every possibility. It took all of your strength to keep the mask on for your class.

It might have been the longest 50 minutes of your life. When the bell finally relieved you from your post, you barely remembered to grab your purse before your feet carried you briskly, as fast as they could professionally move, down the hallway toward the teacher’s lounge.

You snatched one of the newspapers slumped in a pile on one of the tables and began to tear through it, flipping through the pages with ravenous eyes, looking for something, anything about an accident or a death or his name or anything.

You sensed someone behind you peering over your shoulder. You could almost feel their hot, labored breathing on your neck.

It took little more than a tilt of your head to see who it was. “H-hi Doris,” you said, stilling the paper in your trembling hands.

“Boy I’ve never seen anyone read a paper so fast in my life,” she said dryly. “Watcha lookin’ for?”

You tucked your wild hair behind your ear and pulled yourself together. “Oh, um,” What were you looking for? Would it sound weird to say? Of course it would. Your mind whirred with appropriate and totally not crazy responses. “My— my car was having some trouble this morning and I uh, you know just thought I’d check the paper to see um— uh, a number for a mechanic or something.”

Ms. O’Donnell stared down at the paper. “Good luck finding one in the obituary section.”

“Ha. Very funny,” you said, folding the paper. “Say uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen Eddie today? Was he absent for your class too?”

She huffed, un-phased. “Munson? Haven’t seen him. Honestly I’m more surprised when he shows up.”

“Ah, ok.” You stared down at the paper, the words blurring.

“You know he got a D on the pop quiz I gave on Friday.”

You gave a single nod, lips forming a hard line. “Well, he wasn’t able to study, was he?”

“Course not, it’s a pop quiz. You know I’ve gotta give it to you for trying.”

“Yes, well, so is he,” you said curtly. You left the paper crumpled on the table, turning on your heel toward the door.

Tears burned behind your eyes. You knew it was silly. Maybe that’s why they stung. The whole thing was silly and he was probably just sick like half the school was this time of year. But your feet had their own agenda and that was how you found yourself standing in front of the receptionist in the main office.

“Eddie Munson?” she asked, looking over her paperwork. “No I didn’t get a phone call or anything. I marked him as an unexcused absence.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks for checking.”

“You know, his attendance has actually been… unusually good this year.”

“Yeah— yeah, I know. Thanks anyway.” Head down, you almost ran into Diane as you turned to leave.

“Hey soldier, what brings you to my side of the line?”

“Nothing it’s— it’s stupid. I should get going before my lunch break is over.”

Diane folded her arms across her soft, green cardigan. “What’s up?” she asked gently, guiding you out of the way of incoming traffic. “You seem… upset.”

“It’s really nothing. I’m just…” you glanced around the office.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Your mouth twitched but no words came out.

“Come on, that’s what my office is for.”

Diane led you across the noisy office with all the talking, and phone ringing, and copy machines whirring, through her doorway — into silence.

You sat down and looked around at what everybody else saw when they took this seat — the concrete walls painted a soft peachy-pink. The plants in her window. The few inspirational posters. The warm glow of the three lamps that lit the room. No fluorescents.

Only Diane did not take her usual place behind her desk, instead she took the seat next to you.

“I’m sorry, this is really stupid. Eddie wasn’t in class today, and I— I know it’s like, well so what, but—” you started.

“He’s the one you’ve been tutoring right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s never been absent before?” Diane asked with a little chuckle, “It’s almost November.”

“Yeah— yeah, I know. It’s really paranoid of me. He just said that he was going to a party this weekend and I—“ you swallowed, glancing away.

Diane’s face dropped. “Oh.” She put her hand on your shoulder. “I know this is a hard holiday for you, but I’m sure he’s fine. You’re just catastrophizing. I understand where it’s coming from though.”

“Yeah— yeah I’m sure you’re right, I just…” you sighed, taking a moment to steady your breath as her hand soothed over your back. “This weekend was… hard. It’s still hard. All day today.”

“That’s the hidden toll of teaching, isn’t it?” Diane mused, “You see these kids every day and you get so… invested in them. It’s an emotional labor, you know?”

You did know. Just like the papers you graded, it was something you took home with you. Even before Eddie. That was the thing about teaching, even after you went home the job never really ended.

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

Her words hung in the air as your stomach dropped, face turning hot. You couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Yes,” you choked out. “I mean I care about all my students,” you added quickly.

If only she knew.

______

Tuesday, October 29th 1985

Eddie slid his plastic lunch tray along the counter as he waited for his turn in the lunch line like some sort of prisoner.

In his mind he was still cruising the freeway, watching state signs pass, watching the upright citizens of the world go about their daily grind as he watched like a spectator from the outside. Just rambling through. That was what he loved most about skipping school — the feeling of being outside, of wondering what sort of bullshit class his friends were having to fight sleep through as he drove on past with a mug full of coffee and a tank full of gas.

His suffering had earned him almost $300 on Saturday and he was bound and determined to put it to good use. He needed a three day weekend after that. Hell, he really needed to just take the whole week but he figured that might be pushing it.

When he saw the look on your face as he entered your class an hour ago, he was grateful that he hadn’t. He would spend the first ten minutes of it running his fingers over the subtle indents that your green grading pen left behind on his test, feeling for your hand through the paper. Feeling the braille of the lines that came together to form the words “I’m proud of you”.

He could count on one hand the number of As he had gotten in his life — this was one of them.

He would spend the next forty minutes of class watching you, as he always did, with his cheek pressed against his knuckles. He would imagine you in his passenger’s seat — cruising down the road with a mug full of coffee and a tank full of gas. How you would bring your own tapes and serenade him with Joni Mitchell’s “Coyote”. How he would much rather be a prisoner of the white lines on the freeway.

The lunch lady took his tray and slapped a helping of overcooked green beans that looked more grey than green, followed by a splat of mashed potatoes and a shriveled pork chop. Eddie was grateful for how generous she was with the gravy, it would help combat the dryness. Yum.

Eddie took the tray and gave a gracious nod before making his way to the head of the Hellfire table.

“Hey man, where were you yesterday?” asked Dustin through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

Eddie plopped both his tray and himself down with a sly smirk. He shed his jacket, revealing the bandage on his forearm.

“Oh shit were you in the hospital or something?” asked Mike.

“No he got a tattoo, you doofus,” laughed Jeff, nudging him with his foot under the table.

Mike rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah that’s super obvious.”

“It is,” Jeff snorted.

“Did you end up getting the sphinx from Powerslave?” asked Dave.

“I actually went with the puppet master, I’ll show you guys tomorrow when I can take this thing off. It’s really sick.” Eddie sawed at the hard, dry pork chop with his knife, stabbing it still with the fork in his other hand.

“So how was um, ‘business’ this weekend?” asked Dustin.

Eddie stopped sawing. He hesitated for a moment, his stomach churning as he recalled what happened. The red in Jason’s eyes as he grabbed him by the shirt. The look on all of their faces staring down at him.

Gareth caught his eyes. “Everybody keep an eye out for Jason Carver and any of his bitchboys. They have it out for Eddie,” he interjected.

The table erupted in questions.

“Why, what happened?” asked Dustin.

“Do we need to make them pay?” Dave cracked his knuckles.

“No— no we’re gonna just lay low but keep an eye out for them. Chrissy keeps talking to Eddie and Jason’s being a jealous little bitch about it. Keep an eye out for her too,” answered Gareth.

Eddie felt the pressure release in his chest and gave Gareth a gracious look. He caught the remorse in his eyes. There was another thing that Eddie was relieved by — he left out the part about you.

“Shitheads just being shitheads,” said Eddie finally. “But uh, Gareth’s night wasn’t so shitty,” he prompted with a raise of his eyebrows, changing the subject.

The table shifted audibly.

Gareth smirked. “Yeah Cindy gave me her number.”

Cheers, elbow jabs, and banging on the table came from all directions. Eddie smiled at his friend, full and genuine.

“I called her last night.”

More eruptive cheers. Louder this time.

“What did she say?”

“How’d it go?”

“Did you ask her out?”

“Woah, easy boys, one question at a time,” Gareth chided gently, raising his hands. “I haven’t asked her out yet. We just talked about movies and stuff. I’m trying to feel it out, you know? Gotta take it slow, I don’t wanna scare her away,” he laughed. “It went good though, we talked for like an hour.”

“You should take her to see Goonies,” Dustin suggested.

“She’s already seen Goonies, plus that’s like… is that really a date movie? What kind of movies are date movies?”

Dave snorted, “Stupid movies.”

“Yeah take her to A Room With a View,” Jeff laughed.

“Ew that’s like, serious isn’t it?”

“How ‘bout Rocky IV, that’s romantic,” offered Dustin through a snicker.

“No—no wait the new National Lampoon’s,” Mike chortled.

“Really helpful, thanks guys.”

Eddie chuckled distantly, taking a stab at his green beans. He glanced over toward the door to the teacher’s lounge, across the expanse of the noisy cafeteria. Somewhere behind that wall you too were at a table, eating lunch by yourself in a room full of people. He wondered if you felt as lonely as he did sometimes, a loneliness in feelings that weren’t appropriate to share.

______

Eddie sifted through the contents of his locker, hunting for his chemistry textbook amongst the chaos of loose papers without homes. The door, which shielded him in part from the noisy hallway, was stark. There were remnants of stickers inside from previous occupants, but aside from the papers with his name on it, there was no trace of Eddie Munson. He remembered his first few lockers here, how keen he was to leave his mark on them, to slap Iron Maiden and Slayer stickers on the inside that future occupants would have to scrape to get off. He was less keen to make a home of his sixth.

“Hey Eddie.”

He recognized the voice. Powder soft and sugar sweet, it was twinged with a tentative sadness. He took one look at Chrissy Cunningham and shut his locker, turning away.

“Eddie, wait,” she pleaded, chasing after him.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” he said sharply, keeping his pace.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she admitted, her white tennis shoes hitting the tile in quick succession to keep up with his much larger gait.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“I— I just wanted to apologize.”

Eddie gave a sharp puff of air through his nose and slowed his pace.

“I’m really sorry about Saturday. I was really drunk, I didn’t mean to get you in any trouble.”

Eddie stopped, turning to her sharply. “Yeah? Well, the longer you stand here and talk to me, the closer I am to getting in trouble again, so…”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you have,” he said curtly, turning away. His feet carried him briskly down the hall, leaving her in the gust of air he left behind.

It might have stopped her feet from following him then, but it didn’t stop her eyes from following as they searched for his across the room in chemistry class.

He would try to avoid them, but eventually the searing heat of her gaze got the best of him. He would concede, and when he did catch a glance of those green eyes from across the room he would think about the time he saw them last. Red and heavy lidded. He would think about the way she stumbled off that couch. The way she crumbled under the weight of Jason’s voice.

So he would concede and meet her eyes for just a moment from across the classroom. Behind them, equal parts desire and remorse.

______

How would you describe Eddie Munson? You had been asking yourself this question since your first encounter after school.

There were the obvious things — Plush lips. Strong chin. Soft nose. A jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Big brown eyes like a baby cow. Wild ringlets that framed his face and cascaded down his shoulders.

Then, more subtly — A summer wind. Restless and frenetic, but soft all at once. Soft in the comfortable silence that sometimes fell between you. The silence of listening. There was warmth in him too — the kind of warmth that colored the brightness of his voice when the silence was broken. He was wild, and warm, and restless, and magnetic all at once. A summer wind.

It was a question you would ask yourself after every encounter. Each time you would come away with something more.

What you did know for certain today was that nothing compared to the sight of his sweet face as he took the seat across from you.

“It’s good to see you,” you said. As if that even scratched the surface.

“Yeah, you too.” His eyes held yours as he shed his jacket around the chair. He leaned forward in it, resting his arms on the desk between you.

You were just happy to see the pink in his cheeks, the extra fluff in his hair today. You could smell the product in it even from across the desk. Your fingers occupied themselves with the pen in front of you. “I was… worried about you. On Monday.”

His eyes widened. “Shit, I’m really sorry about that,” he lamented. You could tell that he meant it too. “I was uh, getting this.” He presented his forearm with a cheeky grin.

You looked down at the inky black lines on his skin. At the gnarled hand grasping a wooden marionette cross with strings hanging down. You followed them down to what appeared to be some sort of zombie or undead creature hanging from them.

Your eyes lit up like Christmas. “Aren’t those… illegal here?” you asked in a crazed little whisper, the look on your face was wild and fascinated.

“Only in Indiana.” You could hear the mischief in his voice. “I drove to Illinois to get it. That’s why I had to take the whole day.”

You had to laugh. And you did. “Well I’m glad you’re safe. I guess it was… silly of me to worry so much.”

“No— no I should have at least called in and made up some bullshit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re ok. That’s all that matters.” You looked down at his arm again, at the dark, angry lines across his reddened skin. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, it always does a little. This one wasn’t so bad. I have others.” His dark eyes flashed at you as he hooked his fingers over the collar of his shirt, exposing the ink under his collarbone. “This one hurt the worst,” he said with a soft smirk. His hand lingered there, an offering to your eyes.

You cursed the animal inside you. The one that growled from deep within your abdomen and crawled its way into your cheeks. The one that whispered about what your lips might feel like on the skin that he exposed for you.

“O—oh yeah I can see why that would hurt.” Your eyes diverted back to his arm, tracing the lines with your eyes. You brought your face closer to examine, but you were more interested in the velvet skin of his forearm. How something could be strong and soft all at once. Your fingers twitched above it.

“You can touch it,” he said. An offering — an experience. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your eyes met his. Hesitant, you accepted, lowering your fingers slowly, then your eyes. He was so warm and impossibly soft. You were almost afraid he would feel your pulse pounding through your fingertips as they traced tentative, delicate patterns across his skin.

There was a gentle puff of air against your face as he sighed at the contact.

It took courage to look up at him, but when you did he held your gaze with an intensity that made you shudder.

“Sorry, my fingers are cold,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” His voice was gentle, distant, like a trance. “It feels… nice actually.”

You lowered your eyes again, and then more of your fingers across his warm, velvet skin, sliding slowly up and down the solid expanse of his forearm. You could feel the tendons, the soft brush of hair at the edges.

“Does it still hurt?” you asked softly.

“Yeah, a little. Kind of itches more than anything now.”

His palm was facing up at you, so close to the heat of your body. His long fingers twitched.

You should have pulled away. You knew you should and you were trying but his skin was like a magnet and you could not bring yourself to do it. It was too painful.

“How was the party?” you asked as a knot twisted in your stomach.

He huffed and shook his head, “Pretty shitty if I’m being honest.”

The knot released a little. “That bad huh?”

His eyes widened, giving a crazed little look, “Yeah, it was that bad.”

“What happened?”

His brow furrowed as he searched for the words, “Just… drama I guess — involving a certain, uh, basic primate. It’s really stupid, honestly.”

Your fingers pressed concern against his arm, ever so subtly. “Jason?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, casting his gaze away. “Yeah, he’s a real dick. Anyway, like I said, it’s stupid.”

You wanted to press on, but it seemed like he didn’t care to elaborate.

“I was worried about you, at the party,” you said softly. And then you did something bold, as if possessed by a force stronger than your noble mind — you lowered your palm.

You could feel his approving hum through your hand, the vibrations rippling from under his velvet skin.

“I knew you would be. I was extra careful.” His eyes flitted up to yours. “For you.”

It was the seriousness of his tone that stirred you most. The earnest, deadpan look on his face, like there were volumes behind those two words.

It opened up a narrow passage, and you entered with the boldest thing that you had ever said.

“I really care for you.”

You wondered if he could feel your pulse hammering against his arm, feel your hand start to sweat. Your fingers twitched, mind racing with second-guessing. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You lifted your hand to remove it, but then he did something that surprised you.

His hand below you gripped your arm.

“No—no,” he soothed, his eyes meeting yours in earnest. “It’s ok.”

Time stopped — frozen as he held you in his gaze. You might have thought your heart stopped too had it not been so audibly pounding in your ears.

“I care for you too,” he admitted.

The breath that was caught in your chest released, and with his permission, you relaxed into the touch. You squeezed his arm gently — a gesture he returned, and heavy sigh escaped both of you at once.

It was only a moment, but there a whisper, no — a bold admission in the quiet of the air between you.

He smiled at you. Breathy and crooked, a wild warmth in his eyes. And for one stolen moment the fear that had nestled itself deep within your chest melted away.

The animal inside you stirred, stretching outward like a yawn, up into your neck and cheeks again. It was warm this time. Comfortable now.

The world around you fell away. The concrete walls, and clocks, and bells, and chalkboards ceased to exist. There was nothing else that mattered except hands on skin across the great divide of the desk lodged between you.

Your mouth twitched but words would not come. You feared that if they did the spell would break.

Eddie was much braver.

“I wish you could have come. To the party. I mean like, hypothetically, not… realistically. But like, another party. I— I don’t know. Sorry that sounds really stupid,” he said with a little chuckle. His arm remained locked to yours, curious fingers wandering across your skin.

“No it’s not, I— I wish I could have gone too. Hypothetically. I would have had a much better Saturday night than I did on my own, trust me,” you said with a pained laugh.

He shook his head, thumb rubbing electric circles on your arm. “Oh I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” you said.

And with that Eddie did something even braver — his palm traced its way down your arm until it found your hand. He held it in his for a moment, warm, calloused thumb soothing over your knuckles. You could feel those bones again, those strong fingers that held you steady as you threatened to tremble.

It was only for a moment. But in this moment there were two things that were abundantly clear for both of you —

1. It felt too good to stop.

2. That things would never be the same.

______

A/N: Well, well — we have an admission! After quite possibly the longest October in history, time is going to start moving a little more quickly now that our forbidden lovebirds are on the same page. We've still got some more hurdles to navigate, but strap in as we prepare for liftoff! 🚀

Another note, I will be closing my taglist. Those of you who are already on it will remain tagged, but anyone else who wants to keep following the story can just follow me (as I would sincerely hope you all are) and turn on notifications.

A smaller note — I have given Freak #3 the name of Dave.

As always, I deeply appreciate any and all comments -- keyboard smashing, theories, small novels, all of it. Hearing your reactions to my story fuels me in ways that I can only begin to tell you.

Please reblog and help others to find my precious creation! ✨

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @newlips @chainsawmunson @trashmouth-richie @carolmunson @wordscomehither @alottanothing @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @blue-mossbird @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @ruby-dragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me

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kidrauhlschik · 6 months

Text

1. Tangled Memories ~ Lee Know AU

Post Traumatic Amnesia (PTA) is a transient state of confusion, disorientation and memory loss that occurs immediately following a traumatic brain injury. PTA is sometimes also referred to as post traumatic confusional state and can occur from the moment of injury until the return of continuous memory.

The accident was a tragedy.

But it was the best tragedy to ever happen to you.

This is part 1 - pt 2, 3, & 4 is in the masterlist linked above :)

Warnings: angst, f!reader, enemies to lovers, drunk driving, gaslighting, Fighting, yelling, cursing, angst, heartbreak, lies, angst, accidents, not proofread, minho is mean, lmk if I missed anything!!

Words: 3.5k

Being late was one of your biggest pet peeves. One time when you were 13, someone told you that being late was rude because it shows no regard for other people's times, and for some reason, that just stuck with you. Ever since, you have never allowed yourself to be late to anything, no matter how insignificant it may be. This is odd, because you truly do not mind whenever someone is late to do something with you. Even though you find it annoying at times.

Times like today, when you have been waiting for one of your best friends to pick you up for at least 30 minutes, you do find it a bit bothersome. Waiting for Bang Chan is always a chore, how can someone be late to everything? You are halfway convinced that he was probably late to his own birth. Maybe he'll be late to his own wedding as well. You wouldn't put it past him.

19:38

Christopher: here

"Finally!" You say to yourself at the sight of the message, as you jump out of the couch and quickly grab your wallet and keys.

Much to your dismay, Chris isn't alone. The literal spawn of Satan and the bane of your existence sits in the passenger seat.

It's not that you and Minho casually disliked each other, it was more so loathing and pure hatred. It didn't start that way, but the relationship has evolved to a point of no return.

Before you met Bang Chan, you met Minho, and the two of you were in the same class. It was eight in the morning, and you could say that neither of you were morning people at all. During your first encounter he spilled hot coffee on you after bumping into each other. Neither had seen the other, him because he was looking down at his phone, you because you had your eyes glued to the flash cards in order to study for a test. It was just unlucky.

"Dude, what the heck?" You ask, while looking down at your spoiled shirt and cards you were holding.

"That was like $6 dollars." He points at the cup on the ground.

Did he want you to pay for it? After he spilled it?

"And this shirt was like 30 bucks!" You told him

"Oh yeah? Cry me a river dude." The two of you got progressively louder in your argument until class started and you both walked to opposite sides of the room, huffing and puffing, but not bothering to come to a conclusion for the minor inconvenience.

The next time the two of you interacted with each other, was a couple of months down the line. Luck has never been your strong suit, so you weren't even surprised when Minho was announced to be your project partner. However, close proximity just made everything worse.

Every meeting the two of you held, turned into a screaming match. The arguments were always blown out of proportion, most of the time they were over the font size, or the color of the slides, sometimes it was over who would speak when. It was petty, but neither of you liked the other, and you were both petty people. Once the project was over, you made it your life mission to avoid him and he did the same to you.

Once again, your luck showed its true colors when your new friend Bang Chan wanted to introduce you to his group of friends. The second the two of you walked inside of the pizza parlor, you heard a loud groan.

Looking around to see where the sound came from, you were met with the only person you strongly disliked at your university.

"Please don't tell me that witch is your friend." Minho closed his eyes, fearful of what he knows Chris' answer was going to be.

"The two of you know each other?" Was his response and that sparked the never ending rivalry that you both had to this day.

In your head, you attempted to be civil, but in reality, you kept on belittling him, and always disagreeing with whatever he had to say. He always did the same to you, but you were both Chan's friend's and neither of you wanted to back down.

If either of you had been more rational, or less headstrong, then everything would have blown over, but you and Minho weren't mature at all. A petty resentment ended up turning into so much more.

One day, he brought the whole group coffee, but forgot to get you one as well. So in return, you invited the group for a night out, and you forgot to invite him.

He made plans for everyone to meet at an arcade, but he told you the wrong address, and led you to the one on the other side of town. He bought a new speaker, so you stole it when Chris was cat-sitting.

When everyone was in the lake, he casually picked up your phone and threw it in the water. The next day he had a swarm of bees infesting his car.

The "pranks" as you two would call them, soon became so much worse. All bets were off the table. The guys honestly thought that the two of you were the unluckiest people in the world, they no idea that you were the cause for each other's misery.

He would see your car parked outside of a shop, and would casually slash one of your tires. Then he would wait outside and say something among the lines of "That's unfortunate." And leave you stranded. In turn, you would go to his place in the middle of the night and black out his car windows with spray paint.

It felt like the two of you were out for blood. You were always arguing, the arguments always hit home for the both of you, always targeting insecurities and sensitive subjects. You tried not to talk to each other when out with other people, but the second either of you made eye contact or spoke, a small bomb always went off.

The guys tried keeping you separated from each other, but at times, the task was impossible to maintain.

The issue was that the two of you were too much like each other. Both with iron walls incasing your heart, both with words like venom towards those who deserved it, both with eyes as cold as ice, and both with burning fury that was reserved for one another.

Bang Chan would try to mediate, and get you guys to talk it out, he knew that if you did, you guys could be friends. Every time he tried, he'd end up having to put down a fire. The animosity was just too much, especially when neither of you could act like an adult and avoid conflict. So eventually, everyone gave up and viewed your arguing as the new norm.

"Why is he here?" You asked Chris as you climbed on the back seat.

"Why the fuck do you think I'm here?" Minho replies without taking his eyes off his phone.

"Someone called to get his car towed and he can't pick it up until Monday." Explained Chan as he began driving.

"Who would do such a thing?" Your feigned surprise earns you an eyeroll from Minho.

Neither of you ever told the true nature of your evil antics to the guys. The both of you actually cared about your friends, and you both were aware that if they knew, they would be pissed at the way you have been treating each other for the past year. Maybe they could let some mean comments slide, but nothing to this degree.

The car ride was mainly silent. Except for when you and Chan would be having a conversation and Minho would hop in with a snarky remark. When you arrived to Changbin's house, the area was neat and tidy.

Key words. When you arrived.

Now, there were cups everywhere, pillows thrown, liquids spilled, and much more. It's like a tornado had ransacked the place. However, it was no tornado, it was you and Minho.

The movie was long forgotten, and the rest of the guys were laying on the couch, scrolling through their phones, while waiting for the new argument to calm down.

It started over something stupid, as per usual, you had been sitting next to Jeongin. He was talking about the new Exorcist movie that was coming out, and you made a stupid joke about Minho being the scariest thing in the room.

Maybe it was the wrong day to mess with him, or maybe it was because his car was locked in a parking lot somewhere. One thing was for sure, it was definitely the wrong time.

He grabbed the little cushion nearest to him and chucked it your way with a little too much strength and it hit you straight in the face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"It's just a pillow. Calm down."

So without giving it much thought, you flung the cup that had been in your hand towards him, spilling red liquid everywhere, mainly on Minho.

"Here we go again." Whispered Jisung as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"What the fuck is your problem!?"

And like that, a full blown argument started, it went from throwing things and yelling, to finally approaching one another and yelling in each others faces.

Every now and then Chan would tune in to the argument, hoping that it would blow over as soon as possible. He was annoyed, but he knew it was bound to happen, even though he hoped it would be a smaller argument night. He cared so much about Minho and you, that's the reason he hadn't cut anyone out, but he had ran out of options. He knew why Minho was the way that he was, and he knew why you were just like him.

Minho had dreams when he was growing up. Dreams that he sacrificed everything for. He gave up on his youth to join a dance team in hopes to one day become a K-pop idol. He spent countless of nights practicing until the middle of the night. While everyone was out partying and enjoying their high school years, Minho joined a K-pop company and he had been so close to debuting with a group. He trained with said group for years, and became best friends with them. Once they were at the end of the race, Minho was cut from the group and let go by the company. All of his efforts, years, blood, and tears, wasted. Now he had to watch his closest friends become global super stars and he had nothing. He isolated himself and gave up on dancing, he vowed never to dance again. He enrolled into university and built walls around himself. He hated himself, and Chan figures that he still does. Haunted by the shame and guilt of never being good enough, he became bitter and angry. He held so much anger in. It wasn't until he met a shy boy called Jisung, when things changed for him, but his walls were still up. Despite caring about his friends, his scars still ran deep.

Chan didn't know much about you though. You only ever allowed bits and pieces to slip through your fingers. Your guard was up too. Lacking trust on everyone, you barely ever talked about your past. Always telling Chan and yourself that it was your own burden to carry, and no one should bother with it. He didn't know much about your family, the only thing you ever told him was in passing when talking about Christmas plans.

"Are you going home for the holidays this year?"

"I have no reason to." You and Chan were walking to the nearest target to pick up baking powder to make cookies later.

Rubbing his hands together to keep warm, he looks at you in confusion. "To see your family?'

"I have no family."

The subject dropped immediately. He can sometimes see through the cracks though. He sees the way you never let yourself cry, and the way that whenever something bad happens to you, your smile falters but remains. He always questioned how much of your happiness was faked.

So Chan holds out hope. You and Minho were broken in different ways, but similar in many more things. The way that you are protective of the people that you care about is the same way that Minho protects his loved ones too. Like you two are afraid of losing and letting go. You had lost too much and you both refused to keep on losing more. You are both rocks, never letting too many emotions seep through. More importantly, you both carried the same anger. Probably the only emotion you guys show freely, both bold and unrelenting. When he introduced the two of you, he should have known that was introducing a hurricane to a tornado.

He is broken out of his train of thought by your voice.

"Let me fucking go!" Minho had you wrist in hand, presumably gripping it with too much force.

"You were going to hit me bitch." He was right, you raised your hand to slap him after a particularly nasty comment.

"Guys! Calm down! Minho, let her go." Chan got up and grabbed Minho's wrist in turn, but he wasn't letting you go.

"You deserved it asshole."

"Now I get why your family fucking left you." Ouch. He probably didn't know your story, it wasn't possible, but he probably came to the assumption that you weren't exactly close to your family based on the fact that you never talk about them or visit them. Maybe he heard one of the guys talking about it. Either way, it hurt.

"Maybe if you weren't such a dick, you would have actually made it in life, you fucking failure."

His lips shift ever so slightly. Only you notice it while everyone is trying to calm or separate the two of you.

"Get the fuck out." Strangely calm, the change of tone almost gives you whiplash. This was eerie, there was nothing in his voice, completely void of all emotion. Even anger.

"This isn't even your house." Disbelief clear in your response.

"No one wants to hang out with a fucking whore that only came around because she fucked her way into the group."

"Minho!" Chan screams while still trying to get one of you out of the room, it was like separating rabid animals from one another.

You stood in shock. It wasn't true, but it somewhat was. You and Chris had a one night stand, it meant nothing. You two actually had breakfast the next morning and decided to remain as friends, but you were always scared that anyone would think that you had other intentions.

"You are truly fucking delusional if you think that any of us will still speak with you after college. I'm a fucking failure but at least I know I won't die alone like you. You're going to end up alone." Ouch part two. It's like he knows what he's aiming at.

Everyone in the room had their eyes on you. No one knew what to say. The insults never ran as deep, they were always over superficial things around them, but this time Minho wanted you gone.

"So maybe, it would be best if you grabbed your shit and left, because I promise you that no one here would follow."

"Fuck this." You didn't have to take the humiliation, and you couldn't allow anyone to see you faulter. So you take his advice and make your way out.

Everyone was in too much shock to prevent you from leaving. To you, that meant that Minho was right. They don't care about you and apparently no one does. Just like that, you're willing to let a year of friendship go down the drain. If they're going to leave you anyway, what's the point of sticking by?

Maybe you'll do them all a favor and disappear from their lives.

This wasn’t like you though. You’re able to brush off insults like dust. It wasn’t a big deal at all, it shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did, especially because Minho said it. Maybe it was the mixed drinks that Hyunjin had been making you all night. Either way, you knew that you needed a second to clear your head.

It was dark outside. Traffic was aggressive and loud, but that didn't matter to you at that moment. Your own thoughts were more unbearable than that.

Inside of Changbin's house, everyone was attacking Minho.

"Why the hell would you say that?" Said Jengin.

"That was fucked up Minho." Hyunjin said as he made his way to the kitchen.

Minho had to get defensive, "Did you people not hear the shit that she was telling me?! Why is it always "Minho said this, Minho said that" When that bitch is probably even worse than I am?" Through his rant, Chan could see a crack. The usual coldness is gone, replaced by desperation. Minho hated his own thoughts. Why were his friends not on his side? Why is he always the villain? For a second Chan sees an emotion that he has barely ever seen Minho wear, fear.

"Jisung?" Minho turns to Han, the name sounded like a question, maybe even a plea. If anyone were to be on his side, it would be his best friend.

Han stares at him blankly. "You took it way to far Min. Even for you, that was low."

"Even for me? You guys are making me seem like a damn demon!" Chan goes to put a hand on his shoulder but Minho is quick to shake it off. Avoiding is something Minho has always excelled at.

Overwhelmed by the situation, he also walks out of the door, he can't let them see him faulter.

As he begins to walk, if feels oddly similar to the night he was kicked out of the company. It had been raining that night and Minho walked home. He felt that he wasn't even worth getting a taxi. The word "useless" replayed in his head that entire night, similarly to how he felt right in that second.

He thought of what he told you. He didn't regret it at all, but he couldn't get away from thinking, he might die alone too.

The relationship between the two of you had always been strange to him, to say the least. It's almost as if he was expected to hate you. To be honest, he couldn't quite remember how you guys met or why you hated each other so much. He just knew that you spawned into his life and made it hell, and he wouldn't go down without a fight. Just hearing your name brough him annoyance, like a natural recoil in his body runs away from you.

Maybe he hated himself so much, that when your eyes mirrored his, he couldn't stand it. Maybe the both of you saw everything you hated about yourselves in one another that you couldn't help but to fight back. Neither of you realized it though.

While Minho was trying to clear his head, he noticed something down the block. It seemed like emergency lights. Similarly like the cat in the saying, Minho got curious and quickly walked toward the hoard of people. After pushing through the bodies, he's met with a surprising sight.

It was you, on a stretcher.

His eyes wide with shock, wonder for a bit, trying to take the situation in. He looks around and sees a car, not far own the road, with a smashed windshield and blood splatter on the broken glass. A cop is restraining a man right beside it, who must have been the man driving. The people around are simply blocking space and gasping at the sight.

Minho wanted to hop in the ambulance out of instinct. He wanted to jump into action and tell the paramedics that he knew you, but he held himself back. You wouldn't want him there and he didn't want to be with you either. So he stood in place, confused and in a daze as he saw the paramedics close the doors of the ambulance and speed away.

It wasn't until the area started to clear out that his brain came back into focus.

Despite the knot building at the base of his throat, and his gut tightening, he pulls out his phone. With shaky hands he taps on Chan's name.

"Hello?" The heavy Australian accent is heard once Minho brings his phone to his ear.

"Y/N is hurt."

A/N: This was originally going to be a big 20k word chapter. im excited to write it - it'll probably be a total of thee parts. Maybe two.

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tempe-brennans · 5 months

Text

you got a fast car

authors note: this is probably weird? it's mainly like. joel's stream of consciousness but it's kinda cool

summary: your death drives joel a little crazy

warnings: car accidents and death

“all that has ever mattered is volume, and if you turn up the speakers past the point of sound, to deafening silence, you will hear me again.” – neil hilborn

They had told him the car was trashed. And, to be fair, it was. The metal had crushed and folded in ways it was never designed to.

The mechanic hadn’t seen a reason to waste Joel’s money.

Joel didn’t care, though. He’d do anything–spend anything–to get that car working again.

He ordered new doors, a new engine—all the pieces that would make it whole again. Whole in ways he would never be.

He put her back together.

If he could turn enough screws, slide enough pieces into place, maybe he could do it for you, too. Maybe, if he just works hard enough, you’ll open the garage door, offer him cold tea like you always did when he’d been working too hard.

For all his effort, he couldn’t get rid of the passenger seat. It sits, the back pushed too far—all it’s mechanics ruined from the impact–and covered in your blood, in the corner of his garage.

It’s a symbol, almost, he thinks.

The way, in the movies, it’s an object that tethers a person to Earth after they go–that’s what that seat will always be to him.

It's you. All he has left. He would never want to be free of it.

It’s where he had held you. As blood ran down his cheeks from a wound on his forehead he hadn’t bothered to check, he took your broken body in his arms and did all he could for you.

Be there.

He had known you were leaving, could hear it in your stuttering breaths, see it in the way your eyes glazed over. There was too much to say, too many words for him to ever get out in time, so he settled with the simplest.

Hands smoothing over your forehead, smearing blood he has no hope of finding the origin of, he murmurs, “I love you.” A soft kiss to your forehead that he hopes you can still feel. “I always have. I always will.”

“I love you, too,” is the softest whisper he’s ever heard and he’d give anything to trade places with you.

He’d give up his life in an instant to save yours. It was a sacrifice he had always been prepared to make–since the day he met you.

That chair was where you spoke your last words, took your last breath. It’d be with him as long as he was alive.

So, even though he puts a new one in the car, it doesn’t matter much.

You’re in his head all the time.

He hears you, in fact, the day he gets it started. He drives down the street he’d driven down with you hundreds of times and hears you say, “You have to stop doing this, baby.”

Baby. Like he was something precious. Like it wasn’t his fault you were gone.

“It isn’t, you know. The same thing could have happened if I had been driving.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” you whisper. “You can live again, Joel. I promise it’s okay.” A soft chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He shakes his head, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks.

“I’ll wait right here,” you hum. “You’ll see me again and you can tell me everything.”

“I don’t want it,” he hisses. “Not without you.”

You say nothing else on the subject, leaving him with only a murmured “I love you” before you’re gone.

So, the day he runs the car through a guardrail isn’t really surprising. As he floats through the sky in ways a human body was never supposed to, he feels you. Your arms wrap around him and you press a kiss to his lips–feelings he never thought he’d feel again.

“Honey,” he murmurs.

“It’s good to see you.”

You smile, take him with you to wherever it is you’ve been, and Joel can’t imagine feeling more peace.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller drabble #rebeccawrites

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cowboybeepboop · 2 years

Text

Hawaiian hangout

“Mm this is my favorite song, what about you Darling? Do you like it?” “It’s nice, but I don’t like slow rides, I like going fast,”

Pairing: Hangman x fem! Reader

Genre: plot with some porn

Word count: 2928

Summary: Hangman has a thing for you but your relationship with Rooster makes him jealous. You’re a badass who is the best of the best and this shows when you and Mav get into a “fight”.

A/N: I don’t usually give the reader a callsign cause I think it’s fun to make up your own but for this oneshot I made the readers callsign Darling because her superior (the guy from the academy) who gave it to her thought it was fitting because she’s innocent and sweet looking on the outside but in the sky she’ll out fight anyone in a dog fight. Basically he’d call her Daring Darling, or DD, since no one saw her as a threat at first and also because she loved the DareDevil comics. Anyways this is just some random ass info I made up, it gives nothing to this so like yeah idk I was just bored. Also I fr based the friendship on my friends and I’s relationship because I think we’re absolutely hilarious no questions asked and for some reason everyone thinks we’re dating. ALSO I WROTE THIS ENTIRE THING WHILE MY MOM WAS NEXT TO ME ON A ROAD TRIP SOS I CAN’T STAND MYSELF. Anyways saw Top Gun: Maverick for the 5th time and met some really cool older women today.

Bradley has been your best friend forever, since kindergarten when he “accidently” pulled your pigtails and you started crying. His only excuse was that they were uneven and he was trying to help, fucking idiot. He does that a lot though, he’ll try to help and end up making a bigger issue out of it, for instance this exact moment when he spilt red wine on your white dress and poured white wine on top to “even it out”. Now you’re fresh out of the shower, smelling like Bradshaw’s coconut shampoo and wine.

“Hey, Brad. Got anything I can wear? I mean after all you did wreck my dress, twice,” you giggle with a teasing smile, he scratches the back of his neck and hands you a pair of your old shorts and one of his Hawaiian shirts.

“That's all I could find, I must have left your wardrobe at my mom’s storage place.” shrugging you take the clothes from him, smiling sweetly.

“Don’t worry about it duckie,” he rolls his eyes and puts his best mom face on, standing with his hands on his hips.

“It’s Rooster, not duck,” he puts on a dramatic performance, throwing his head back, hand over his heart, “I can’t believe you don’t even know my callsign, after all of these years.” one last exaggerated sigh before he falls back on the couch.

“Damn, did the shock kill you?” your eyes light up with mischiv, as long as he’s pretending to be dead I mean you might as well, you tickle his sides watching him fight back a fit of laughter.

“Come on Y/N you should get changed, we’re supposed to go meet Phoenix soon,” he sits up grabbing your arms and pinning them to your sides with a sweet smile.

“Shit, I almost forgot about that,” you quickly grab the clothes, throwing on the shorts and his white Hawaiian shirt, leaving it unbuttoned showing off your white cropped tank top. “I think we’re actually a little late,” he grabs his keys and puts his hand on your waist pulling you out the door with him.

“Well, I intend on surprising her anyway,” he locks the door and hops in his jeep. You follow suit, getting into the passenger side sighing at the heat that hits your thighs as they touch the dark leather seats.

“This is torture, I’m burning alive,” Bradley shakes his head while starting the engine, you buckle up pulling the seatbelt under your left arm so it doesn’t sufocate you.

“That defeats the purpose of the seatbelt, you’re supposed to have it over your chest,” he teases as you glare into the side of his face.

“It’s uncomfortable, it’s suffocating my chest,” he puts his free hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly.

“I know, I just wanted to piss you off,” Bradly smiles innocently as he keeps his eyes on the road, you flip him off secretly. “I saw that, Darling” he glances over to you raising his eyebrows slightly, “You’re gonna have to be more careful next time,”.

“Ouch, you’re being real serious Bradley. You even used my callsign,” you fegin shock covering your mouth theatrically. That’s the thing about your relationship with Bradley, the majority of the time you guys are being dramatic, which really confuses people because they don’t understand your guy’s comedic geniusness.

Bradley pulls into a parking spot, he gets out of the jeep and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door and offering you his hand. You roll your eyes “You go first Brad, I’ll go in, in like a minute,” he nods his head and salutes you.

“I’ll see you in a minute then,” you wave him off pulling a thing of chapstick out and applying it, you check your phone and reply to a couple texts. Mentally preparing yourself for the loudness of the bar, sticking your phone into your pocket before climbing out of the vehicle. You run a hand through your hair while walking through the bar entrance, “Hey, Y/N over here,” Bradley calls you over while holding his stomach softly.

You go up to the bar to order two beers, you end up standing right next to Maverick, “Can I please get two beers Penny?” she nods with a sweet smile, “Oh shit, Mav I didn’t notice you earlier,”.

“Hey, Y/N, how’s it going?” He smiles while sticking his phone into his pocket.

“I’m good, how about you,” you sit down on the empty stool next to him, keeping your attention directly on him.

“I could be better,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you should head over to Bradley, he’s waiting for you.” you nod, standing up to get the beers and thank Penny, “One more thing though,”

“What is it?” you search his serious eyes looking for any hints about what he might ask of you.

“Could you maybe not tell Bradley that I’m back in town just yet?” Maverick scratches the back of his neck while his eyes go softer pleading with yours.

“Of course, Mav,” you smile and lean in for a hug, he wraps his arms around your waist gently while using his thumb to rub up and down your back. You pull back from the hug, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

You weave in between a few groups while making your way over to Rooster and Phoenix, once you get to the pool table you pull your sunglasses up leaving them on top of your head. “Here Bradley,” you hand him a beer, taking the other as you sit next to Bob, “Hey, Bobby boy. How’s the man, the myth, the legend?” he smiles as he pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. The familiar blond man turns his attention on you, looking you up and down with a small smirk.

“I’m good now that you’re here,” you smile, showing your slightly pointy canines.

“Fuck, Bob you know just how to get my heart racing,” you stare into his eyes before he looks away, a soft blush creeping up his neck.

“You know him?” Hangman questions as Bradley pops up behind you taking your glasses from your head, folding them up and hanging them on the collar of your shirt.

“Yeah, he’s my favorite weapons systems officer,” you smile while placing your hand on his shoulder. “He’s always focused and has never made a mistake, it’s too bad they don’t let me fly with an RIO anymore,” you sigh dramatically while he admires you from the side, Rooster rolls his eyes.

“You know, the higher ups would let you fly with an RIO if you weren’t such a maniac,” you pretend to be offended as you shove his arm away from your side.

“Ugh, you’re so mean to me all the time,” Hangman is not so subtly checking you out while you and Bradshaw bicker. Phoenix interrupts you two trying to stop your random argument.

“So, Y/N I’ve been wondering something for a while,” she pulls Bradley by his shirt softly, you nod at her motioning for her to continue, “why is your callsign Darling? Isn’t that kind of misogynistic?” Phoenix’s comment draws everyone’s attention to you.

You laugh softly, “It does seem like that doesn’t it? It’s just something my parents nicknamed me when I was younger and my commander thought it was fitting for me. But,” you smile softly, “People usually call me DD,”.

“Before you ask the meaning of that,” Rooster laughs, “you’ll have to wait until you see her fly to fully understand.” He sounds like a proud dad while talking about you.

“I also have a question,” Coyote raises his eyebrows, “Why are you wearing Roosters shirt?”.

“He ruined the dress I was wearing earlier,” you shrug and Coyote’s eyes slightly widen as he coughs. Hangman’s jaw clenches while he narrows his eyes on Bradley.

Slow ride starts playing, “Mm this is my favorite song, what about you Darling? Do you like it?” Hangman smirks flashing his perfect white teeth.

“It’s nice, but I don’t like slow rides, I like going fast,” you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip keeping an intense stare on Hangman.

Penny rings the bell again, Hangman, Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy take Mav out. You chew on your cheek while going over to the bar, “Hey, Pen, I’ll pay Mav’s tab,” she hands you the check.

“It’s a pretty big bill,” she warns you but you already had your wallet pulled out, you hand her your card.

“It’s fine, I have a lot saved up,” you smile sweetly, Bradley pulls the cord on the jukebox, taking his beer over to the piano.

“Are you sure, love?” you nod, she swipes the card and then hands it back to you with the receipt. Rooster motions for you to come over.

You go over to him and he sings to you “You broke my will, but what a thrill,” Bradley pulls you onto his lap and you start singing with him.

“Kiss me baby,” you hold his cheeks, kissing him on the forehead, “Ooh, that feels good, baby”, he smirks looking you up and down. You giggle as you continue to sing in sync with him, nodding your head with the beat of the song. Hangman clenches his fists, sucking his teeth, shifting his jaw in anger.

_________

Things between you and Maverick have been a little tense since he found out about how you paid his tab, not to mention the tension between him and Rooster putting even more strain on your friendship with Maverick. The funny thing is Maverick told you not to fly like you usually do, you’re way more skilled in dog fighting than the rest of the pilots from your previous training and missions, your goal is to train for the mission with the rest of the team rather than gain more skills; however, Maverick went ahead and pushed your buttons. You’re the first pilot up which means you’re supposed to lose like everyone else and do the 200 push ups, but with Maverick’s intensity and Bob’s encouragement you’ve found yourself flying like your life depends on it.

Maverick’s plane is right on your ass, both hands grab your centre stick, pulling toward your midsection. Your plane shoots up, “Holy shit,” Hangman's voice rings through your ears as you switch directions heading straight for Mav. He pulls up trying to level with you, you flip upside down, narrowly missing his “shot”, you push the centre stick opposite of your body swooping low.

Maverick locates you once again, he creeps closer to your tail, before you hastily pull up. You’re upside down (again) hovering over Mavericks plane, “Fuck she’s on his fucking tail,” Hangman is sat back watching you two fight.

Your engine stalls and you direct your plane away from Maverick’s, you’re headed straught for the ground, “Fucking hell, my engine stopped,” you keep hitting the buttons grabbing your centre stick, still none of your efforts make a difference.

“Eject, Y/N eject right now,” Maverick yells as he follows your tail, at this point you’re hitting the hard deck.

You’re finally able to gain control of the engine again, you pull up as fast as you can. Your plane zooms past Maverick, your hands shake as you put your aim on Maverick and the beeping starts to ring out, “I gotcha Mav,”.

“Y/N get out of the sky, now.” you can hear the anger in his strong tone, your planes all touch the ground. You get out of the vehicle, hands shaking as your feet touch the ground, Mav runs over to you.

“Why the fuck did you not eject? What if you couldn’t gain control of your F-18?” you fall back on the ground, laying against the boiling pavement.

“I don’t know, can you stop yelling though. My head hurts,” you close your eyes, chest rising and falling quickly, your arms and legs feeling like jello. The rest of the team rushes down over to you and Maverick, he stays stood over you staring down at you.

“You’re reckless,” he says in a silvery tone, “you could have been seriously injured, or even killed,” Maverick nearly yells at the end of his sentence.

“In my defense I’m tired of doing push ups, I’m an amazing dog fighter I don’t even need any more training. I've already got two confirmed kills. That’s half of what you’ve got Mav, I’m good and I’m not cocky.” you sigh out, lifting your head to look at him as you sit up, “I’m fine with not winning against you or being the best but shit you’re getting on my nerves,” Rooster comes over and helps you stand up.

“Hangman, take Y/N inside and get her some water,” Mav pinches the bridge of his nose while using his other hand to wave you and Hangman off.

You unzip your uniform while walking towards the locker room, Hangman is a couple steps behind you keeping a close eye on you to make sure you don’t fall.

“Hey Darling, why doesn’t Maverick use your callsign?” Jake’s hand rests on your back as he opens the door for you, his body getting impossibly close to yours. “I mean he uses Roosters, it doesn’t make much sense that he doesn’t use yours,” he says voice barely over a whisper.

“I was his right hand man in a mission once and because he named me, my mom couldn’t think of a good name so she asked him,” you shrug, walking into the locker room peeling off your uniform that’s drenched in sweat.

“You were really good up there,” Hangman presses up against your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he breathes against your neck softly.

“Hangman, what are you doing?” his hand moves down to your thighs, spreading them a little. You instinctively lean back against him, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“Darling, you can stop me whenever you want,” he kisses your neck softly, “and please, call me Jake,” he whispers into your ear sending shivers down your body. He moves to sit down on the bench pulling you onto his lap.

“Are you okay with this?” you nod enthusiastically, biting down on your lip roughly, “No love, I need to hear you say it,” he pulls his hands back from your body.

“Fuck, please Jake. I want this, I want you,” you put his hands back on your thighs, spreading your legs for him.

“Good girl,” he smiles, biting your earlobe softly, receiving a soft moan from you. Jake pulls your soaked panties to the side, sliding his index finger between your pussy lips before landing it on your clit. He rubs slow circles around your bundle of nerves, changing the amount of pressure from time to time. You grip onto his upper arm roughly, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as your body presses into his. Pleasure shoots down your spine causing your body to shake softly, biting down on your lip you snake your other hand up to his hair pulling at the roots.

Hangman uses his free hand to grab something from his pocket, “You know Darlin’, you dropped something yesterday,” he whispers into your ear. “I didn’t think much of it, so I picked it up. But there’s something curious about this lipstick container,” fucking hell, there’s no way I dropped it here. You think to yourself while trying to stay focused on his words.

“You can imagine my shock when I opened it and..” he takes the cap off, sliding the base to the side, the dreaded quiet vibration filling your ears. He smirks against your neck as he begins peppering kisses against the warm sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Jakes movements were overwhelming, giving you zero opportunity to come up with an excuse, “I can totally explain why I have that,” your hole pulses around air, grasping for some sort of friction.

He presses the tip of the vibrator against the spot he's been massaging, swirling it around in steady circles while keeping a consistent rough pressure. “Jake,” you pant out his name, moaning into his ear.

“Is my pretty girl close?” he uses his free hand to knead one of your breasts through your shirt, you nod against his shoulder, “You’re so naughty, do you like that Rooster could walk in at any minute and see how good I make you feel?” he tightens his jaw at his mention of your chaotic friend.

You squeeze your legs tight around his hand, feeling close to your climax. He spreads your legs with one hand and his knee, “You’re being so good for me Darling, don’t disappoint me now,” he bites down on your neck softly. Jake increases the amount of pressure he’s using, causing waves of euphoria from your head to your toes.

Soft moans spill from your lips, your toes curling as the knot in your stomach snaps, Jake pulls your chin to move your lips against his. Your lips mesh passionately as he keeps pushing your orgasm, eyebrows scrunching together as overwhelming pleasure fills your body, like a warm cup of hot cocoa after a long time in the snow.

“Good girl, Darling you’re so good for me,” he whispers against your ear, he begins wiping up the warm liquid with a handkerchief from his pocket. “We need to get you cleaned up before anyone notices how long we’ve been gone for.” Jake kisses down your neck before pushing you up off his lap.

#jake seresin #jake seresin smut #top gun maverick smut #top gun hangman #top gun hangman smut #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #hangman smut #smut

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bokutizer · 1 year

Text

➵ BOKUTO KOUTAROU

summary : From fated bike accident to shaving in your shared bathroom. tags : domestic fluff, mention of blood (nothing dramatic, I promise!) a/n : this has been a fic that I once wanted to post but my idiotic ass accidentally deleted it months ago, and I really did not have the enegry to rewrite it until now. also. Bokuto's skin is as soft as a baby's bottom.

Everyone has scars that ornament their skin; small ones, big ones, some of them are nastier than others, some of them might carry dark memories with them while others hide unknown stories behind themselves. Bokuto is not an exception.

The light stretchmarks along his inner thighs and the outer edge of his chest, the small light line on his thumb that's still healing and fading after he had accidentally cut himself while pealing potatoes last week. Don't get me even started on his knees, littered with multiple teeny tiny scars. The latter ones being small childhood keepsakes, every single of them a consequence of his naive curiosity and numerous escapades.

However, there is this one scar that's so small, barely noticeable yet it carries so much importance to the athlete. It's right underneath his chin, barely an inch long, but every time he looks in the mirror, especially when he shaves, he can't help but smile at the sight of the little token of remembrance.

"Shit, shit, shit! Coach Takeyuki's going to kill us." Bokuto breathlessly groaned, his hair being pushed back by the wind as he tried to pedal as fast as possible without hitting any obstacles (people. to be exact).

"Bokuto-san, you are going to kill us." Akaashi corrected, tightening his grip on the rear seat on which he was sitting on, rethinking all his recent life decisions that had led him to this exact situation; praying that his senpai would slow down at least a tiny bit on the next turn.

Thanks to Bokuto's suddenly not-functioning alarm, and sisters who had taken over the bathroom, the second year had gotten out of his house at least twenty minutes later than usual. And of course, Akaashi, being the ever so loyal and reliable kohai, had been waiting the entire time for his friend.

So when the two of them had realized that they'd be way too late for their volleyball practice, Bokuto had the amazing idea to simply take his bike.

And so here the they were, one driving like a mad man while the other one prayed they would not get in trouble. But you know how they say; if it’s meant to be it will be. And in this case, not even prayers were able to stop what was about to happen.

The sound of an all too sweet laugh suddenly caught Bokuto’s attention, followed by a shock of (h/c) hair until he dashed past you, eyes meeting for merely few seconds. Though, it was definitely more than enough for him to tell that you were pretty, gorgeous even. Your hair looked so soft and silky, eyes so beautiful he swore if they’d be the only thing he could stare at, he'd do it.

Your expression was also cute. The way your forehead wrinkled slightly with your furrowed eyebrows before your eyes shut open… oh, were you shouting something? Were you shouting at him? Shit, did he already mess up?! -

"Watch out!"

And when your voice finally pulled him out of his day dream, Bokuto realized that Akaashi was also being quite loud, which was not an all too usual occurrence. As he finally focused his gaze on the road ahead of him, he realized that, in fact, there was no road anymore. It was long gone and replaced by the all too well known walls that surrounded Fukurodani High.

In a matter of seconds, they crashed against the grey brick-wall, the bike and both its passengers flying to the ground. Akaashi groaned as he slowly got up while rubbing his aching rear, his white training jacket stained with mud and dirt.

Bokuto, on the other hand, had accepted the possibility that he had probably died because the way you crouched in front of him, holding a napkin against his bleeding chin, it could only mean that his soul had arisen to paradise and that you were an angel. That could be the only possible explanation, right?

"Are you okay? Feeling nauseous or dizzy?" you asked worriedly, the cloth in your hand slowly but surely getting soaked with his blood. "We should get him to the infirmary." It was only then that you realized that the raven haired boy who had also been involved in this accident, was your classmate.

"Akaashi-kun! Did you get hurt?"

After he had reassured you that he was fine besides the few scratches, you helped Akaashi heave his friend up (who was anything but lightweight).

Bokuto remembers your gentle eyes, and the worried glimmer in them as if it were yesterday. How your expression turned into one of confusion when he asked you if you'd like to swing by during their volleyball practice as soon as the school nurse had patched him up.

"G'morning." you yawn as you step inside the bathroom, tiredly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and interrupting your boyfriend's little nostalgic moment. "Morning, pretty. Did ya sleep well?"

You hum contently at the short peck against your cheek, and somehow it's only then that you notice Bokuto's black little toilet bag sitting on the countertop, his razor and shaving cream ready to be used. The sleep instantly leaves your body as you gasp enthusiastically and perch yourself on the countertop, Bokuto eyeing you with the same warmth in his gaze. Watching you grab the cream and ushering him to get closer with the same eagerness of a seven year old who's about to do her favorite doll's hair.

"Alright, alright!" his shoulders shake as he chuckles at your antics. You tug at his arms until he's settled between your legs, his hands finding purchase on your thighs, thumbs tenderly rubbing shapes along your skin while you start applying the white foamy substance along his jaws. A squeak sounds through the tiled room once he gives your thighs a tickling squeeze, your whiney and drawn out "Kou!" only spreading his grin further.

"You have to admit, 'm pretty good at this." you speak pridefully, gliding the razor along his skin with gentle and careful strokes with one hand while the other's nestled beneath his chin, guiding his head the way you want it.

"I don't think there's anything you're not good at." Bokuto claims, his smug and still with shaving cream stained face getting too close to your own for your liking. "Beside parallel parking maybe."

"Really funny. Baby, wait. No! You still have some-"

Yet in a blink of an eye, his hand is resting on your nape, his lips doing their work an planting pecks all over your cheeks as well as bits of the shaving cream. You've accepted fate, enduring his sweet yet messy kisses, and your brows scrunching in disgust at the bitter taste of chemicals when the last kiss lands on your lips.

"Happy now?" you chide falsely annoyed, yanking the towel from the towel rail, and wiping your face. "You could've waited until I was done!"

"Nope." Bokuto shakes his head lightly, the self-sufficient grin on his face seeming not wanting to leave for today, as he rests his forehead against yours. You're about to shove him off you. That's until you hear him say, "You know I can't wait when it comes to you."

#bokuto koutarou #koutarou bokuto #hq bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #haikyū!! bokuto #bokuto fluff #bokuto drabble #bokuto x reader #bokuto x gn!reader #bokuto x you #bokuto scenarios #bokuto koutaro fluff #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutaro x y/n #bokuto x y/n

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amvro · 1 year

Text

pairing: amuro tooru x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he is a little late to a dinner date because of a job that did not go too smoothly

cw: injuries, worrying, there is a happy ending

Nothing could terrify you more than a broken sports car. Especially his broken sports car. You would see any part of that white sports car damaged and you would feel all the blood drain out of your face. You would feel your heart drop immediately.

Was he okay? How bad was it? Was he in the condition to drive? Should he have even been heading home? Should he have been in an ambulance rather? Or was it just the car? No. It was never just the car. That's why it was bad.

You were waiting for him in a simple but classy fit, a lot more excited than you thought you would be for your first dinner date in while. The night was a little cold but you disregarded that entirely. The only thoughts that filled your head were of him.

Yet, these lovely thoughts were short-lived. Soon you heard gasps and the squeaking of brakes. Horrible sounds really. You immediately spun around only to see the very thing you had dreaded to see. A banged-up white sports car.

His banged-up white sports car.

You walked up to his car and peered through the window. His hair was disheveled and you could see a faint stain of blood, despite him wearing a dark shirt. Quickly he got out of his car to open the passenger seat door for you.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he immediately apologies.

Late? He's sorry for being late? He was barely even late!

Instead of getting into the passenger seat he had just opened for you, you pushed him in instead and closed the door. His eyes widened and he immediately knew you were planning to drive.

"No, baby I invited you. And I messed up a little."

"No, I'm driving. You can sit there and patch yourself up," you said sternly, in hopes that it would stop your voice from cracking and you would get across that you were upset.

You didn't sound upset at all, but he knew now was not the time to argue with you. Your voice was soft and quiet, and he could almost hear it crack. He absolutely hated it, especially when it was because of him.

He opened the glove box to take out a roll of bandage he had kept inside for emergency. He took off his shirt and started tending his wounds.

"How many accidents did you cause, trying to get here on time?" You asked quietly, after confirming that he was patching himself up.

"I caused no accidents, I never do!" he said, as playfully as he could muster. "Just scared a couple of people."

"Right," you said with a slight smile. That made him feel better, because his heart was hurting more than his wound at the moment.

You were too caught up in how worried you were and only now did you realize the situation you were in. Sitting right next to your gorgeous boyfriend in the middle of the night, city lights dimly lighting up the car. And he was shirtless, patching up his wounds.

You felt horrible for having such thoughts when he was injured, but god, he was hot.

Your cheeks burned and you could feel your face heating up. You were thankful for the lighting, or rather the lack of it. It wouldn't be convincing if you were trying to be upset and the flush on your face was visible. The car drive to his place felt longer and longer with every passing second, but eventually, you made it.

You grabbed whatever stuff he had to carry up. There was no way you were letting him do anything more than necessary with that kind of injury.

"Will you be fine? Should we head to the hospital now?" you asked him. The anger in your voice was long gone and all that could be heard was genuine worry.

"I'll be fine, you know this isn't that bad," he said.

"Alright, but let me fix some of it. It must've been hard to do some parts in a moving car," you said.

"Thank you,"

He sat down on his bed and you started fixing some of his bandaging very carefully to not hurt him. The silence was deafening and it being the middle of the night, there was hardly anything to break it.

After a few long moments, he would be the first to say something.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly and your eyes widen.

"Why?"

"I asked you to free your schedule and I know you were looking forward to it," he said.

Yet you couldn't care less about all that. Tears were welling up in your eyes as you looked at him, yet you were upset.

"No, why are you sorry?" you asked, repeating your question.

"...for making you worry," he said. His voice was far more vulnerable than you had ever heard it and you had finally smiled.

"Apology accepted,"

He would later realize that that moment would leave such a large impact on him. Whether you would remember this event or not is unknown. However, this night would stay with him forever. He cannot believe how lucky he is to have you.

#amuro x reader #amuro tooru x reader #amuro tōru #amuro tooru #furuya rei x reader #furuya rei

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jadedlavendergemini · 2 years

Text

Driver’s Ed

Summary: Your boyfriend Eddie Munson teaches you to drive.

Warnings: none (just cuteness!)

Relationships: Eddie Munson x Hopper!reader

—————————————————————————-

The sun has just risen in the small town of Hawkins and the morning was quiet, almost too quiet.

Most Sundays were spent in your bed, sleep being your only friend at the moment. But you had spent the day before with your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, who had promised to teach you to drive in his van.

Normally this responsibility would have fallen upon your father, but being the chief of police and a new father to a young girl with strange powers, it was pretty much the last thing on his list. But you weren’t upset, in fact you were over the moon when Eddie had even brought it up.

“I’ll teach you,” He says, taking a puff from his cigarette. He was sitting next to you on an old blanket out in the field overlooking your boring town.

Your eyes widened and you turned to look at him in surprise from your spot on your blanket. “Really?”

He laughs. “Uh, yeah, I would love to teach my girl to drive! I mean unless you would rather-“

“Nope. You’ve offered and I’m taking it.” You smiled.

While you were excited and beyond thrilled, you were also nervous as hell. You worried over causing an accident to his van. But he had assured you that he didn’t care.

The second your eyes opened to the little bit of sunlight that made its way into your room through your cracked blinds, you moved to start getting ready. You had practically raced to get dressed and add any bit of your minimal makeup.

Fast forward to the present, you were now seated in the driver’s side of his old beat up van with Eddie seated next you in the passenger side.

The first couple minutes were spent by Eddie explaining everything about the gear shift, the break and acceleration paddles below your feet and the lights that could pop up on the dash.

After a few brief nods and a few “gotchas” you were set to go. Eddie smiled to himself and snickered “You got this babe! We got nothin’ to worry about!” As he clicked his seatbelt into place.

You nodded and did the same. Anxiety slowly creeping up through your spine but you shook it off. After all, this was a huge moment in your life.

You took a deep breath and inserted the key and gave it a twist, causing the van to roar to life.

“Remember, hun, remember to keep your right foot placed on the break until you’re ready to go.” He reminded you.

“Right,” you nodded again. Your hand reached for the gear shifted, memorizing in your mind the meaning of each. You finally settled for DRIVE.

“Okay so now you can slowly remove you foot from the brake and go slOW-“

Eddie was cut off by the force of the van caused by your aggressive foot pushing down on the accelerator pedal a little too hard. Eddie had both of his ring clad hands placed onto the dashboard in attempt to hold himself in place.

Once you realized how much power you gave, You quickly released the pedal and slammed your foot back down on the break. Once again caused the two of you to nearly hit the dash.

Slowly, you turned towards Eddie who looks bewildered at what just happened. His widened eyes shrunk back to their normal chocolate brown orbs and slowly he reached back from the dashboard and turns to you.

“Maybe this was a bad idea?” You managed to squeak out. You moved to unbuckle the seat belt. “I just don’t think I’m ready-“

“No, no- hey no, y/n.” His large hand takes the belt clip from you and clicks it back into place. “Like I said, you got this. Driving can be exciting, but not easy. You’re gonna get this down. Now just do the same thing but slower. When you take your foot off the break, the car should roll on its own. The acceleration is just to add a little speed, okay? Try it like that.”

You took a deep breath before taking his advice. You moved to shift the gear out of park once more to Drive. You let your foot slowly remove the pressure from the break and watched as the van slowly made its way forward at a safe pace.

“Just like that, sweetheart. You’re doing great!” Your metal head of a boyfriend encourages.

You can’t help but smile. But it dropped the moment you heard the other idea that popped into his head.

“Try slowly turning out there, to the left. Outside the trailer park.” Eddie had made it sound so simple, as if he were talking to a cab driver. But he wasn’t, it was you, his girlfriend/driving student.

You placed your foot back onto the break pedal without hesitating. Turning towards him, you voice your concerns. “Eddie, I don’t think I’m that quite there yet. I think the trailer park is just enough. I can’t be out there driving with other cars, other people.”

“Baby, you’ll be fine. Just remember what I taught you. Stop on red, go on green-“

“Well that’s obvious.” You rolled your eyes.

“Just pay attention to the people and surroundings around you, sweetheart. Look for the speed signs, follow those and for the love of GOD don’t floor the accelerator. Okay? Worse case scenario? We get pulled over by your dad and you get a slap on the wrist…. Except me because he probably won’t like me.”

You nodded and took a deep breath. You did the same maneuver to get yourselves on to the main road. You eventually spotted your first speed sign so you slowly accelerated to said speed and managed it from there. There weren’t too many cars out this early so it was easy.

After five minutes driving down the same road, Eddie eventually began directing you on where to go, which roads to take. Until you made it to an older looking home with an even shadier looking boat house.

Once you pulled up, Eddie had given you the signal to stop the car. So you did and made sure the gearshift was in park.

Eddie turned to you, his big smile causing you to smile. He waisted no time in unbuckling himself and jumping out the door as you did the same.

He quickly wrapped you in his arms and swung you around a few times, causing you to squeal. “See baby?! I told you you could do it!”

The moment he lowered you back down. You wrapped you arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his. He warmly returned the kiss but was the first to pull away.

“Do you know where we are?” He asks, hands still holding onto your waist.

Looking around, you were unfamiliar with this property. “Uh, no. I-I don’t think I do.”

“Reefer Ricks,” he replied, moving himself back towards the van. “He’s a cool guy. But Uh, he is in jail at the moment so this place is pretty empty.”

“Oh,” you were now feeling a little concerned. “Should we even be here?”

Eddie was now rummaging through the back of the van. “Nah, we’re good baby. Nobody comes around here. Well, except me or Rick.”

You watched as he shuts the van doors and reveals himself with a medium sized basket, you could only assume that it contained snacks and drinks (most likely beer).

“Uh, what’s with the basket?”

“Well, my sweet y/n, I thought since we were going to be up this early we might as well enjoy breakfast with a great view…. out on lover’s lake.”

You smiled again and gesture towards the boat house. “And let me guess, on Rick’s boat?”

Eddie winks at you before nodding. “He won’t mind. Now let’s go, lady Hopper, because we shouldn’t miss out on such a beautiful sight!”

You giggled before following him into the boat house.

——___——————___———————___——————

A/N: I want to write for Eddie so bad! I’m thinking about starting a new series! But for now, here’s a cute little one shot. Enjoy!

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x hopper!reader #stranger things

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wildbornsiren · 1 year

Text

Of Late Nights and Heartbeats.

Of Late Nights and Heartbeats. Summary: Javy gets a late night call. Bob figures things out. Coyote/Hangman 1,027 words. Warnings: Car accident, secret relationship. Notes: submitted in @topgunhappilyeverafter for @growingupbrown. I hope I did your prompt justice. Comments and reblogs fuel my madness. Likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s very appreciated and means the most. **Tag list is gone, please follow @wbslibrary for more fic.***

Javy groans, groping blindly for his phone. There were only two reasons that phones went off in the middle of the night. Someone was dead, or on their way to being that way. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes clicking accept on the phone. “Hello?” “Coyote, it’s Phoenix.” He's awake now, fully, also painfully aware of the empty space in the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?” His heart is in his throat, hand gripping the phone tighter, pressing it closer to his face.

“There’s been an accident. We were on our way home in an uber, and some asshole slammed into us and kept going.” There’s so much noise in the background of the call, but he can hear every single word she says, despite the pounding of his heart. “Are-are you all okay?” “Jake and Bradley are being seen. I was sitting behind the driver.” He's getting out of bed, locating sweatpants, pulling them on, as well as a sweatshirt. “How bad, are you, they hurt?” “I’ve got some bumps and scrapes. The impact was on the passenger side.” Javy grabs his wallet, shoving his feet into slides, not bothering with shoes. His only thought is of Jake, getting to the hospital and making sure that Jake is okay. “Phoenix, how bad are they?” “Cuts and scrapes, both of them are being checked out further.” He hangs up hearing that. His keys make too much noise in his hand, the distance from his front door to his car impossibly long. Javy white knuckles the drive from his and Jake’s place back on base, to the hospital. He feels every step in his bones. The only thing on his mind is Jake. They’ve been through so much, and the fact that they’ve just now started exploring the realm of a relationship, rather than just screwing around. The fluorescent lights bounce off a too-shiny floor. There’s so much noise, people talking, machines working, other ambient noises combining into a cacophony of too much. Javy leans against the wall, eyes closed, fists balled, breathing deep, counting backward from ten. He can almost hear Jake in his ear, counting down with him, helping Javy find peace. He never liked hospitals. Javy opens his eyes feeling a bit steadier, just a little bit. He continues down the hallway, following the texted directions from Phoenix. The first person he sees is Bob, the other man beckoning him over. “They let us take over this waiting room.” Bob’s voice is rough with sleep, hair all over the place. Behind him, Mav is sitting in a chair, slumped over, a baseball cap pulled low on his brow. “Any word?” Javy asks. Bob shakes his head. “Not yet, Nat said that they were taking Hangman back for x-rays.” Javy nods, taking a seat. He scrolls through his phone, picture after picture of him and Jake. Their relationship was new, and he doesn’t ever want to think about the before times, when they just danced around each other—trading flirtations, quiet conversations, lingering glances in hallways. Javy liked what they had. Coffee together in the morning, Jake typically making breakfast, Javy cooking dinner. They did the dishes together, shared a shower, shared a bed. Few things felt as good as Jake’s mouth slotted against his. “For Lieutenants Seresin, Bradshaw and Trace?” A nurse holding three folders steps into the room. “Bradshaw,” Mav says pointing at himself, “Trace” he points at Bob, “and he’s here for Seresin.” The nurse eventually came over to him. “Lieutenant Seresin has a few contusions and bruised ribs. We’re keeping him overnight for observation.” It was as if he had taken his first breath all over again. Javy grips the arms of the chair and sighs in relief. “So, he’s okay?” “He’ll be able to go home tomorrow.” The nurse pats Javy’s hand before getting to her feet. “You’re able to see him, we’re allowing you all ten minutes since visiting hours are over.” “Thank you,” Javy says getting to his feet. Someone had decided to put all three of them in the same room. Javy’s attention locks in on Jake. He’s propped up in bed, brilliant bruises starting bloom on his skin, and he looks so goddamn small in the hospital bed. He looks up when Javy enters, and smiles. At him. The world clicks back into focus, and Javy nods, clearing his throat. He crosses the room to Jake’s bedside. His hands clench, gripping the guards on the side of the bed. “You alright?” Javy says softly. They hadn’t had a conversation about taking their relationship public—yet, so he hesitates. Only for a moment, his fingertips brushing Jake’s hand. “Better now.” Jake says softly, his hand shifting under Javy’s, their fingers linking together briefly. “Didn’t mean to make you worry.” “You’re okay, that’s all that matters.” Javy says, brushing an errant hair from Jake’s forehead. “I’ll pick you up in the morning, text me when they bring you discharge papers.” Jake hasn’t let go of his other hand, squeezing it gently. “I will.” Jake says softly. “You try to get some sleep when you get home.” “You need to rest.” Javy replies. “I’ll sleep, now that I know you’re okay.” He brings their joined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of Jake’s hand. He knows his body blocks the view from the others. He wants nothing more than to lean in, kiss the worry and tension from Jake’s mouth. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Javy lets go of Jake’s hand, stepping away from the hospital bed. It takes everything in him to walk out of the room. Javy pauses outside the door, eyes closed, counting down again. “Are you okay to drive home?” Bob’s voice brings him back to reality. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Javy says. Bob grins at him, slow and easy. Javy finds himself grinning back, with the stress lifted off his shoulders, it's contagious. “Thanks, by the way.” “What for?” Bob’s grin grows. “Nat owes me a hundred bucks.” He reaches out, tapping Javy’s chest. “You’re wearing Seresin’s sweatshirt. I’m glad the two of you are happy together.” /End

#machseresin #Javy 'Coyote' Machado/Jake 'Hangman' Seresin #Coyote/Hangman #shelly writes #Javy 'Coyote' Machado #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin #Top Gun Maverick fanfic

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whumpsmith-participates · 22 days

Text

Medwhump May 2024

Day 7 - Unresponsive

TW: Ladywhump, drug use, drug overdose

@medwhumpmay

Erick never considered running away from Fetch. The closest he'd gotten to that train of thought was when he started doing his own jobs, making his own money, and wondering if he could earn enough to pay Fetch back... and then he met Lucy.

It had been...three years or so since Erick first "met" Fetch. He was eighteen now and a lot had changed. He had a lot more freedom, yet at the same time he didn't. Fetch helped him get his license, falsifying the paperwork with Tito's help. Before that he was teaching him how to steal cars, since you'd never know when you would need a vehicle in their line of work, and he let him keep one of the cars he stole instead of selling it.

So Erick had his own vehicle, but he wasn't allowed to take it out whenever he pleased. He had plenty of marketable skills to make money, but Fetch only allowed him to take simple assignments from Tito. Luckily, however, Tito paid and tipped well, and all he had to do was make deliveries.

He never asked about the contents of the packages he was paid to deliver, but the fact that he had to hide them in a compartment underneath his spare wheel told him everything he needed to know. Sometimes it was a single box for one address, and other times it was a box with many small packages for a bunch of people.

Over time, Erick began recognising names and addresses that were recurring, especially the smaller packages. One of them, he found particularly interesting. She was always at the end of his delivery rounds, so he could drop off her package after she got off work.

They met at her work address; a stripclub just off the highway in the middle of the city. Usually Erick would be early. He'd find a spot to park and then waited for her by the back entrance. If he was running late, she'd be waiting for him in her car in her usual parking spot right next to one of the last remaining working lampposts.

Today he was running late. One road was closed for construction and the other had a traffic accident. He really hoped she wouldn't mind the longer wait. She tended to get anxious when she had to wait too long, and that made him feel bad. To be frank, he didn't like delivering the likely contents of her packages to her in general, having seen from his other addresses what that could do to a person, and she was so nice, he thought she deserved so much better.

When he turned into the parking lot, he already recognised her car under the lamppost. A pale yellow hatchback that could honestly use a new paintjob, which she could probably never afford with her habit. Erick pulled into the parking bay next to her, the package safely tucked away in his pocket as he got out and reached for the door handle of the passenger's side of her car...but it didn't open.

"Luce, it's me," Erick said, knocking on the window.

Her name was actually Lucy, but Erick had always had the tendency to shorten people's names if he liked them — If they didn't mind, of course. And Lucy didn't seem to mind...nor did she seem to respond to his knocking.

Erick frowned, and peered through the window, cupping his hands around his eyes to be able to see into the dark car. Lucy was sitting in the driver's seat, blonde, wavy hair covering her face, her denim jacket just about one size too small to properly fit the hoodie underneath, and her short shorts barely hiding the line of work she was really in. But more importantly...she wasn't moving.

Erick moved to the other side of the car, hoping she was just sleeping and he just needed to be closer to wake her up. But as he peered through the driver's side window, Lucy suddenly convulsed. Erick's heart skipped a beat, and not in the fun way.

"Lucy?!" he yelled, slamming his hand on the window while trying to open her door, but she had locked all her doors, for safety probably, considering the environment. Erick cursed under his breath, running back to the trunk of his car and opening it. He lifted up his spare tire, pulling out the wrench underneath and hurried back to Lucy's car, using the wrench to break the passenger side window.

Once the glass gave out enough, he reached in and pulled on the interior handle, causing the door to unlock. He quickly yanked it open and crawled into the car to check on Lucy. He tilted her head back, swiping her hair out of her face. The interior light had turned on when he opened the door, giving him a better look at her face. Her lips were blue, and she didn't seem to be breathing.

"Jesus Christ, what did you take?" Erick muttered, shaking her shoulders a little in an attempt to wake her up. When that didn't work, he formed his hand into a fist and somewhat roughly rubbed the middle of her chest up and down, just like Fetch showed him when teaching him some first aid. When that didn't work, he put a hand on her throat to feel for a pulse, which was there, but she wasn't breathing.

He tilted her head back further, prying her mouth open and squeezing her nose shut. He took a deep breath, locking his lips over hers and breathing out. He sat back, giving her a chance to exhale and hopefully inhale on her own, but she didn't, so he helped her take another breath.

"Come on, Luce," he muttered, before trying a third time.

When he made it to ten, he paused briefly to pull out his phone, spamming the only number he had on speed dial and putting it on speaker before giving Lucy more breaths, checking her pulse again when a familiar voice rang out from his phone.

"You better have a damn good reason to call this late," Fetch grumbled.

"Uh yeah one of my clients overdosed, I think," Erick said, between rescue breaths, "she's not breathing!"

"The fuck are you calling me for? Call her an ambulance and get the hell out of there," Fetch said.

"If I leave her she'll die!" Erick said, sounding a bit out of breath at this point, "I'll get arrested if I call, don't I?"

"Not if you don't tell them anything incriminating," Fetch said, "there's this thing called Good Samaritan laws that should protect you. If you do get arrested, make sure they can't find your ID and when they offer you your one phone call, call Tito and he'll have your back since you're on his clock. Understood?"

"O-okay," Erick said. He couldn't help but to start feeling a bit nervous.

"When you call 9-1-1, tell them you you have a suspected overdose, the patient is unresponsive, and any other details you know about her; her name, estimated age, and if they need more they'll ask you," Fetch advised, "are you administering first aid?"

"I'm literally...breathing into her mouth," Erick said, "I dunno if she has...a good pulse...but there is one."

"Tell 'em that too," Fetch said, "I'm gonna hang up now. Don't wake me up when you get home."

Erick rolled his eyes, giving Lucy another breath before dialling 911 and putting his phone on speaker again as the operator responded. He continued to take care of her to the best of his abilities until the ambulance arrived, the EMTs making quick work of pulling Lucy out of the car and putting her on a gourney, managing to administer oxygen properly.

Erick stayed out of their way, hoping they wouldn't ask any questions beyond when he found her, what her state was then, and how long he'd been helping her. Luckily they didn't have the time to ask for details, having to rush her off to hospital, though Erick didn't exactly feel better as they left him alone in the parking lot after that.

He had no way to contact her, since all information always came through Tito, so he might never know what happened to her, unless...

He looked back inside her car, finding her keys in the contact and taking them out. He pulled out his phone and called a contact from a nearby garage for a tow truck. He did smash her window, so the least he could do was have it fixed for her. He left a note in the club's mailbox, asking them to tell Lucy where her car had been towed to, and when his contact came to pick it up, he asked him to let him know when the car had been picked up.

Hopefully at least that way he would find out one day whether she lived or not. He still felt like he should've done more, but after the tow truck drove off, there was literally nothing he could do but to drive home and wait for news...

OKAy so Erick is aged up in this fic because he doesn't meet Lucy before then (except in AU), but details. I whish I could showcase her better, but that would defeat the purpose of today's prompt.

This one's for the ladywhump enjoyers, even tho it's a lot from Erick's POV, but I was still really excited to write it because I too am guilty of not putting the girlies through it enough.

I might do more of these if inspiration strikes, so stay on the lookout ladywhump enjoyers 🙏

Masterlist Main account

Taglist: @lavndvrr (for a brief interaction, but it's thems nontheless 🤭)

#medwhump may #day 7 #VV #erick #fetch #Lucy #ladywhump #TW drugs #TW drug overdose #drugs #drug overdose #TW drug use #drug use

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paisley-print · 2 years

Text

Chapter Five / Summer

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader X Ezra

This is a sequel to the MIDNIGHT Series

Rated TV MA. Heavy trigger warning. Infidelity, pregnancy, nausea, feeding tube.

Note: This one is shorter but it's laying ground work for longer chapters. Enjoy!

Tag List: @just-here-for-the-moment @sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @littlemisspascal @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y @pjkimrn @i-ship-it-ironically @fictitious-little-stitious @curiouskeyboard @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @murdersheghostwrote @fictitious-little-stitious @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13 @galaxyofmando @kravitzwhore @solemnlyswearss @gooddaykate @sherala007 @aliwritesfic @athalien @amneris21 @manuymesut @toxicfrankenstein @deadhumourist@damnyoupedro @harriedandharassed

The lazy days of August continued to slip by, shrouded in their golden light. You tried hard to spend as much time outside as you could once the sun dipped low enough in the sky to cool the rest of the world off. You knew winter was approaching fast, taking the sunlight with it and the notion of which made you irrevocably sad…or perhaps it was simply the passage of time that did so. This year you didn’t look forward to quiet cold nights, where in years past you would have welcomed them.

Therapy was going well, the relationship you and Jack had remained in a purely functional state during the rare times you saw each other. It was best that way. Yet, your world was still not at peace…that ever-present ache of guilt you still harbored towards Ezra never let you rest.

That last conversation you had with him…..the way you insulted him with the sour bite of wine sliding around your tongue. It made you physically shrink into yourself. The feeling got harder to ignore as August slipped away. Stores and shops had already started to display their fall decor, you couldn’t step twenty feet without seeing some pumpkin-laden sign.

You knew you couldn’t do it over the phone, even on the improbable chance he picked up, the apology wouldn’t mean nearly as much. You were ashamed of the way you acted, and you were ashamed of the state of your body.

How foolish you must seem to him now. Alone, knocked up by a man you knew was being unfaithful, then discarded as easy as trash. You had to remind yourself that the reason you were going was not to gain his approval but to right your wrongs. Whatever way he reacts…well that was none of your concern.

You waited until evening, when you knew he would be at home, loaded yourself into the car Jack had fixed for you and drove yourself to the address you had memorized months ago. Driving felt odd after not having done it for so long. You fought back nausea the entire time but managed to keep yourself together long enough to get to his house without any accidents. You had memorized the route to his house months ago, even though you were only there twice. His house was not hard to find, it sat on an offshoot of Main Street, nestled snugly on a corner lot. Two large weeping willows stood swaying silently in the breeze out front.

The sight of the grand Victorian never ceased to amaze you. How one man could endure a lifetime alone in it, you would never know.

You pulled to a stop next to the curb, staring at the house for an embarrassing amount of time. Large drapes blocked the windows but there was light on the inside. Both the living room and the upstairs bedroom emitted a glow that reached out into the front yard.

You felt dizzy and detached from yourself, your legs refusing to move. You even considered driving off but knew if you did you wouldn’t return. Finally, you stepped into action, taking off your seat belt, reaching for the pie sitting snugly on the passenger's seat then stood and shut the door.

You walked up the driveway that led to the front doors of the house and then reached to pull the heavy brass door knocker. Paint chips and rust flaked off with each pull.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You stepped back a little, reminding yourself to breathe as you heard movement from inside. Your breath ceased altogether upon hearing the heavy metal locking mechanism turning inside the door. Quickly you pulled your hair behind your ear with your free hand and braved a friendly smile.

The door drew open, revealing an expressionless Ezra standing at its threshold. He stared at you in an uncharacteristically quiet manner.

“Hi,” you said quickly, face feeling hot with emotion.

“I-...What are you-”

“I know that it’s - um - late. I’m sorry about that, and for not calling before. I just, I know this won't make up for anything I did, but I haven't been able to get our last conversation out of my head. The way I acted towards you….and with….. you were completely inappropriate. I should never have spoken to you the way I did. I think I will regret it for a very long time and I’m sorry….. And I made you a pie- well I didn’t make it, I bought it. I figured, that it would at least make this conversation worth it for you.” You extended the pumpkin pie towards him.

His eyes stayed fixed on you, expression still lacking. “Are you ill?”

You gave him a quizzical look, remembering the tube taped to your cheek. You reached up and touched it. “No, I’m not.”

He stayed silent, you could see he was waiting on a response.

“It’s just morning sickness, but like bad…” you cursed yourself inwardly for how utterly illiterate that sounded. “I’m not going to die or anything.”

His brown eyes shifted downwards, the hoodie you had on concealed your growing figure.

“You're with child?” He asked.

“Um, yes it’s…. Jackson’s….”

When his eyes shifted back to yours you felt a twinge of icy embarrassment fill up the inside of your chest.

“Congratulations,” he said.

You waited, hoping he would say more. He always said more. Why wasn’t he filling this silence with words?

Your eyes were as wide as you stared at him like a deer in headlights. “We’re not together anymore. You were right there was… someone else…”

His shoulders dropped just slightly, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

A voice sounded from inside the house, “Ezra?”

It was unmistakably female, in its high-pitched honey-like tone.

You smiled awkwardly, trying to hide the utter panic you felt inside. “So… um… okay, I’ll just be on my way.” You jutted the pie at him, forcing him to take it in his hands, then turned to leave.

You could feel his eyes on your back as you descended the short steps of the porch. You stopped, then turned to face him once more.

“I am truly sorry, if there is anything I can do to show that then I will be more than willing to do it… But if there’s not… then I understand. Have a nice night Ezra.”

With that, you turned again and made your way down the driveway, when you got back in your car you could see his door had closed.

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey fanfic #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you

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razzlerdazzler · 2 years

Text

@lily-sinclair-2006 Hope you like it :)

Greg x Hurt Reader

Summary: You and Greg get into a car accident, causing you to go into a coma. Will you ever wake up?

Trigger:Car accident, coma

Man you were starving. Your alarm didn't go off this morning and you woke up late for work. You were in a rush to make it to work on time and didn't have time to eat breakfast. However, it was finally time for lunch. You walk into the break room and go over to the fridge. You were too busy looking for lunch to notice that somebody was sneaking up behind you. You suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You quickly whip your head around to see the culprit is, only to see Greg smiling mischeviously at you. "Holy shit Greg," you move your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beating like crazy. You can't tell whether it's because of the surprise or because of Greg. "You scared the shit out of me." You say. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says with a smirk that says otherwise. You shake your head and quickly look around to see if anyone's coming to the break room. When you spot no one you quickly lean in and give him a peck on the lips.

As you pull away, he tries to lean in and kiss you again, but you put a hand on his chest and stop him. "What if somebody walks in?" You ask. You and Greg have been dating for a few months, but you haven't told the others yet. You were worried about what their reactions would be, especially Gils, since he was your boss. Greg whines. "Just one more. Please!" He gives you puppy dog eyes, that he knows you can't resist. You groan in fake frustration. "Fine, but just one." You lean in and peck his lips again. He sighs in satisfaction as you part. You smile at him and grab both of your lunches. You walk towards a table and sit down. Greg quickly follows you, and sits down across from you. You slide over his food, and you both start to eat.

"How's the book coming along?" You ask before taking a bite from your lunch. Greg swallows the food in his mouth and says, "it's coming along well, still got a few more chapters to write before I'm done." You smile at him. You remember when he first told you that he was writing a book about Vegas. You were so proud of him, hell you still are. "Cool, tell me when it gets published so we can celebrate," You say. "You'll be the first one I'll tell." He says, he pauses eating for a few seconds before he asks, "do you think people will like it?" You look up at him, surprised by the question. You grab his hand and look him in the eye, "they're gonna love it," you say. He smiles at your reassurance, and you smile back.

As you both finish your lunch break, Gil comes in. "Hey, there's been a murder at the Cards Casino, I need you two to head down to the scene." After he leaves, you and Greg go grab your equipment. "I'm driving," Greg says as he grabs the keys. "I wanted to drive." You say, frowning at him. "You snooze, you lose." He says, and you shake your head, but can't help but smile at his childish behavior. You get in the passenger seat while Greg gets in the driver's seat, and soon you're on your way to the crime scene.

You both sit in a comfortable silence until Greg says, "Want to come over to my place after our shift?" You feel your heart quicken at the offer. Even though you've been to Greg's place multiple times, even before dating, your heart still races at the thought of being with him. You smile, "sure, did you have anything in mind, that we could do?" "Well, I was thinking that we could watch that documentary about the history of Vegas' old crime bosses." He suggests with a small smile. "You nerd," you say, smiling. He smiles back and says, "yeah, but I'm your nerd." "That was so cheesy." You groan, feeling your face turn red. "You know you love me." He says, but before you can respond you hear the sound of tires squealing . Something suddenly hits the van, causing you to hit your head on the dashboard. Your vision turns to black.

All you can see is darkness, but you can hear voices. "The doctor says that they're stable, but they're in a coma. They say that they could wake up in a few hours, or in a few days." That's Sara's voice! Your in a coma? "It should have been me." That's Greg! You try to open your eyes, but can't. "Greg, this isn't your fault. The other driver was drunk. They were the one who sped past the red light, and hit you. That's Gil's voice. "But it is! If I had just let them drive, then maybe wouldn't be here. They wouldn't be in a coma. If I had just let them drive, then maybe they would be safe." You hear Greg's voice break, and you feel your heart shatter. "You don't know that." Gil says. "The same thing could have happened, even if they were the one driving instead of you. We shouldn't think about the what if's, but about what we know now. We know that you are both safe, and that they will wake up." It's silent for a few seconds until you hear Greg say, "thank you...for everything." "Of course," Sara says. "Call us when they wake up." Gil says, and you hear them walk out of the room. You feel yourself start to fall back into the world of sleep.

You wake up to the feeling of somebody holding your hand, and to the sound of Greg's voice. "Please wake up Y/N. I-I can't do this without you. I miss you. I miss seeing your beautiful eyes. I miss hearing you laugh at my corny jokes. I miss seeing your beautiful smile. I miss the feeling of you running your fingers through my hair. I miss you cheering me up after a shitty day. I miss how you let me rant to you about the most random facts. I miss the ways our bodies fit perfectly against each other when we cuddle. I miss how you feel like home. I-" He breathes in shakily. "I love you," he confesses.

Your brain short circuits. He loves you? He loves you. He loves you! You need to wake up! You need to tell him that you love him too. You try to squeeze his hand, but your fingers don't move. You try again, and this time you succeed. You lightly squeeze his hand. He gasps. "Y/N?" He asks, his voice full of hope. "Y/N if you can hear me, please squeeze my hand again." You squeeze his hand with ease this time. He sighs in relief. "Can you please try to open your eyes for me sweetheart?" He asks. It takes you a few tries, but you finally open your eyes. You are met by a blinding light. As soon as your eyes adjust to the light, the first thing you see is Greg's face. Tears are streaming down his face, but he's smiling. He has a few cuts on his face, and a black eye. "There are those beautiful eyes." He says, which causes you to smile. He moves his hand towards your face and cups your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his touch.

You both stay there for a few seconds until a thought suddenly occurs to you. "Greg, how long have I been asleep?" He doesn't respond. You open your eyes and look at him. He seems apprehensive to tell you. "Three days," he says. Three days? You've been in a coma for three days? "THREE DAYS!? You yell. You move to sit up, but Greg stops you. "Hey, don't sit up so quickly, you have a concussion." You stop trying to sit up after he says that. "I have a concussion?" You ask, surprised. Greg stays silent for a few seconds, as if he's thinking about how to word something. He finally asks, "what do you remember from the crash?" You pause, trying to think back to what had happened. "We were heading to a crime scene. We were talking, and then something hit the van, and then it all just fades to black." You say. He nods and says, "A drunk driver didn't stop at the red light, and crashed right into us. He hit your side of the van, which caused you to hit your head on the dashboard."

You feel your blood run cold, as you think about the other driver. "Is he-" You start to ask, but Greg seems to know where your mind is going, and quickly cuts off your thought. "He's fine, he walked away without a scratch." He says. You sigh in relief, happy that the man's okay. The relief is short lived however, as you notice a pair crutches near Greg's chair. Greg seems to notice your look of terror, and looks confused until he notices that you're staring at his crutches. "Oh!" He says. "Don't worry, it's nothing serious, I just sprained my ankle." He explains, while moving his leg, showing you the brace he has on it. You relax at his words, happy that nothing's broken, or worse.

You both sit there in comfortable silence, until you sigh. There's no better time to tell him than now. "Greg, I need to tell you something," you say. He looks up at you, curious as to what you're going to say. "What is it?" He asks. You take a deep breath and say, "I love you too." His eyes widen, in surprise at your words. "You love me too?" He asks, a large smile, appearing on his face. "You love me too!" He says with excitement. He leans in and starts to pepper kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. He suddenly stops and pulls back, looking confused. "You heard me?" He asks, and you smile, nodding your head. "I heard everything," you say.

He looks dumbfounded for a few seconds, before he smiles and says, "So you love me?" You nod. He leans in until his lips are only a hair's breadth away from yours, and says "I love you too." He closes the small gap between you two, as his lips connect with yours. His lips are warm and soft, and you can't help but want more. He moves his hands around your waist and pulls you closer to him. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. You feel his lips part, as he lightly licks your bottom lip, asking for permission. You grant him permission and part your lips. You both groan as your tongues meet. One of your hands move to his head. You start to run your fingers through his hair. He whines at the action, and you can't help but smile at the sound.

You two keep kissing, until you hear a knock on the door. You both quickly seperate and look to see Sara, Gil, catherine, Jim, Warrick, and Nick standing in the doorway. "Sorry to intrude," Catherine says. You feel heat rise to your face as you think about the position you and Greg are in. You and Greg quickly release your holds on each other. They walk into the room, and Sara sits down in the seat next Greg. "Glad to see you're finally awake Y/N. You had us all worried for a little bit there," Gil says. "Thanks," you say smiling at him.

Sara decides to address the elephant in the room and asks, "why didn't you tell us you two were together?" "We were worried about how you all would react. We didn't want our relationship to affect the group, or our jobs," you say. "You mean you didn't know?" Sara asks. "Know what?" Greg asks, confused. "We kind of had a bet going on," Warrick explains. "It was about whether you two were together or not." Your eyes widen in shock. "And it seems Sara, Gil, and I won." Nick says, smiling. "How did you know?" You ask. "Well we all started to notice the looks you two kept giving each other, and how you both started to become more affectionate with each other," Gil explains. You blush in embarrassment. You thought you and Greg hid your relationship pretty well. Apparently not.

"You know, you two didn't have to hide this from us," Catherine says. "We would have supported you either way." You smile, happy that you have their support, and that you don't have to hide your relationship anymore. Greg smiles, and grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers. The group smiles at the interaction. "Now about that twenty dollars," Nick starts.

#greg sanders x reader #csi x reader

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