#12-13 year old me really thought this was good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-froschamethyst4 · 3 months

Text

Reality Check

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Soap x Wife! Raeder

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, harsh language, spoiled brat, married couple, slight comparing to siblings, arguing, happy ending,

𖤐Summary: Your young daughter hangs out with the wrong crowd and your oldest child gives her a bit of a reality check

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Kiara was surrounded by her 'friends' at lunch. Kiara was a 7th grader in middle school. Her mom and dad were able to get her to the same school her older went to.

A high-end private school.

Her older brother Ryker held a good reputation in the school and everyone knew Kiara because of Ryker.

But Kiara was just making herself look stupid hanging out with these type of girls and not girls that actually wanna be her friends. What I mean is Kiara hangs out with the rich, spoiled brat, daddies money girls.

They pack around Louis Vuitton bags, Gucci belts holding up their skirts, end up makeup, and high end skin care that they don't need but yell at their parents for.

Kiara didn't have that, she'd be lucky if she even got the latest new phone. Her mom worked as an assistant to a Law Firm and her dad was in the Military and wasn't home a lot, so her mom was doing a lot of the work.

A mom working 40 hours a week, barely a husband that comes home. Ryker sometimes had to step in and be a parent a few times. But he doesn't blame his parents. They're just busy people and try to be there for their kids.

Kiara laughed with her 'friends' as they made fun of the group of girls who liked to play video games. Kiara deep down liked to play video games, but stopped to fit in with her friends.

"Oh, girls, I'm having a sleepover, tomorrow, for my birthday, don't forget to bring gifts," her friend Lily says. Lily was like...Regena George, popular and rich and everyone 'liked' her.

Not really

The girls giggled as Kiara just smiled at Lily.

"Bring expensive gifts," Lily emphasized on the word expensive.

Kiara didn't have any of her own money, and Y/n was strict on what to buy for a 12-13 year-old.

"Oh I already know what I'm bringing."

"Same."

"Yeah, you're going to LOVE it, Lily."

"Kiara?"

"Huh?"

"Are you coming?" Lily asked, placing her hand on her arm after she got done picking at her newly fresh nails.

"Yeah, I think so...I'd-"

"Have to ask your mom?" Lily mocked Kiara. Kiara used to say she'd have to ask her mom a lot and Lily was tired of it and 'taught' Kiara how to do whatever she wants without her mom knowing, but her mom was good, she knows almost everything that Kiara is up to.

"No," Kiara says. "Nah, fuck my mom, I'll come, I'll catch a ride," Kiara says.

"Good."

The girls kept talking as Kiara rubbed her arm.

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2:30PM

"MAMA! I'M HOME!!" Kiara yells from downstairs and kicked her shoes off at the front door.

"She's not home," Ryker came around the corner with an apple in his hands.

"Is she at work?"

"She was just called in, I got home an 1 hour ago and she was asked to come in," he says.

"Oh good, can you take me to the mall?"

"Why?" Ryker questioned her.

"Because it's Lily's birthday tomorrow and I want to get her a gift," Kiara says, placing her bag on a bar stool.

"Who cares, and mom won't let you go."

"She won't have to know, if you just take me."

"Hell no, I'm not taking you."

"WHY NOT!?" Kiara yells.

"Because mom hates Lily, you know this, but yet you still choose to be friends with her."

"Because Lily is nice to me."

"She treats you like a slave, Kiara," Ryker tells her.

"No, she doesn't."

"Did she say get an expensive gift?" Ryker raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah and?"

"With what money are you going to get her an expensive gift?"

"You can help me-"

"Fuck no, Kiara!"

"THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!"

"HOW IS IT UNFAIR!?"

"Because why do I bother going to some fancy private rich kid school if I can't even get expensive things?"

"You should be fucking lucky you even got into that school, Kiara. Mom and dad worked their asses off just to get you thought the fucking door," Ryker tells her.

"Kids?"

"Dad," both kids say at the same time.

"Where's your mom?"

"Work, she got called in-dad tell Kiara she can't go to Lily's house tomorrow."

"Lily?" Soap was confused.

"She's some girl that treats Kiara like a slave."

"SHE DOES NOT!! OH MY FUCKING GOD, RYKER!!"

"HEY!" Soap yells at his daughter. "What the hell did you just say?" Kiara knew she fucked up when the word slipped past her lips.

"Dad-"

"Room. now. When your mom comes home, we're having a discussion," Soap points to the stairs and Kiara had hot tears in her eyes and rushed upstairs and Soap heard her door slam shut. "What the hell was going on?" Soap asked, Ryker.

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9:00PM

Y/n had come home, taking her heels off at the front door and saw Soap coming towards her.

"Soap," she smiles at him, she placed her hands on his forearms kissing his lips.

"Hi, love," he says into the kiss. "We have a bit of an issue."

"What kind of issue?" She asked.

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Ryker had explained everything, Y/n and Soap went upstairs to their daughters bedroom. Y/n knocked and heard a low grumble. She opens the door and both parents walk in.

"Kiara?"

"I'm tired...leave me alone..."

"Sit up, Kiara," Soap says, a bit stern, Y/n placed her hand on his shoulder as a 'calm down.'

"Kiara, I want to know from you what happened?" Y/n asked.

"Fine," Kiara sits up. "I HAVE A RICH FRIEND, WHO WANTS AN EXPENSIVE BIRTHDAY GIFT BUT I CAN'T EVEN GET IT FOR HER BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY AND NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME GET IF FOR HER!"

"Is this rich friend, Lily? You know how I feel about Lily-"

"MOM! PLEASE! I DON'T CARE, SHE IS MY FRIEND!"

"Kiara if you don't stop yelling at your mother-" Y/n stops Soap.

"Kiara Amelia McTavish," Kiara knows the full name isn't a good sign. "You are a lucky girl, you wanna know why?"

"Why mom?" Kiara asked a bit annoyed.

"Because," Y/n walks into the bedroom and sat next to Kiara. "You have a mom and dad that loves you, an older brother that paved the way for you for middle school, but...I am tired of you coming home and asking for outrageous things...last week you asked for a Prada bag-"

"A month ago, you asked for a Gucci belt," Soap joins in.

"This isn't you asking for outrageous and expensive thing."

"Then what is the point of going to a rich kid school, if we're poor?"

"For an education, and we're not poor," Soap says. "We just don't think a 13-year-old needs such expensive things, your brother doesn't even have such expensive things..."

"Why do you think you want them, Kiara?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on Kiara's back.

"Because I want to fit in with my friends, they all have expensive things and carry the most expensive and luxury things, I want to fit in, I feel out of place when I sit with them at lunch," Kiara says.

"Kiara, you are an amazing and smart young girl, you shouldn't need expensive things to feel like you need to fit in...aren't there other girls at the school that don't have expensive things?"

"Yeah but...Lily hates them, she makes fun of them all the time, if I leave the friend group to have those girls as my friends, Lily won't speak or hang out with me."

"Who cares, Kiara."

"Ryker-"

"No mom, I'm sorry, but I am so tired of hearing, Kiara only talk about Lily and what Lily wants, she never thinks about her own feelings only Lily's. Kiara, she treats you like a slave. You are my little sister and I am tired of this Lily girl."

"I agree with Ryker," Soap says.

Kiara rolled her eyes at her family.

"Kiara," she looks at her mom. "I want you to do the right thing...okay?"

"Whatever."

"Till then, you're grounded," Soap says.

"WHAT WHY!?"

"Because of the yelling at your mother and cussing at me." She rolled her eyes again. "And for rolling your eyes at us," Soap and Ryker left her bedroom as Y/n moved her daughter dark brown hair from her face and kissing her temple.

"I know you'll do the right thing, Kiara," she says, getting off the bed and heading to her bedroom to change from her work clothes.

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Kiara was laying on her stomach on her phone and having her laptop play a random YouTube video. She was on Amazon looking at gifts for Lily, but she shuts her phone off and tossed it on her pillow.

She falls on her back and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm not going tomorrow," Kiara says as she walked into the dinning room, Ryker was eating leftover spaghetti.

"Okay?" Ryker says as he was still eating.

"Where's mom and dad?"

"Eating out, tonight, date night," he says.

"Are they bring anything back?"

"Maybe, this is just to hold me over till they get back," he says picking at the leftovers. "So you made up your mind?"

"Yeah...you were right..." she hates to admit that to him, since Ryker has a 'big ego' as Kiara says. "Lily is a bitch."

"Aren't you grounded for cursing?"

"You gonna snitch to dad?"

"No," he smirks.

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Y/n and Soap came back kicking their shoes off at the front door and seeing Ryker on the couch watching TV and Kiara on her phone.

"We brought some food back," Y/n says, placing a plastic bag of food on the marble counter. Kiara and Ryker jump off the couch and started to open the bag and pulling out their food.

"Thanks," Ryker says for the both of them.

"Kiara," Soap opens his hand, letting her know she shouldn't have her phone. She groans and slaps her phone on his palm. "You'll get it back later."

"When's later?"

"Friday," he says. She tossed her head back knowing she'll have to wait a week to get her phone back.

Ryker smirks and Kiara punched his arm. Y/n just giggled at her kids.

After a while Soap and Y/n were snuggled against each other watching their favorite show as Ryker was in his room playing video games and Kiara was scrolling on her laptop.

She then saw in the bottom corner a notification from Lily to the group chat. She opened the message and read it.

Lily: The party is actually going to be at our Lake house Here's the address

Jade: OMG it's huge, I'm DEFINITLY coming

Angel: Oh yes! I'll so be there

Lily: Kiara, are you coming?

Kiara started to type and she knows everyone could see bubbles popping up letting them know she was typing, but she stops before she hits send and started to backspace it.

She left the group chat and started to watch her YouTube again.

Then the notifications started to pour in. Them asking her questions if she changed her mind, did she forget she was typing and then a personal message from Lily popped up making Kiara click it and see.

Lily: Hey, saw you were texting in the group chat, the location changed to my lake house, are you coming, if so can you bring snacks and soda?

Kiara: Actually Lily, I'm not Have someone else bring your snacks and soda, ask Angel or something, I'm not coming

Lily: Did you not ask your mom or something? Did your brother say no on the ride? I can send our butler out there to go get you

Kiara: Fuck no, keep your butler away from my house, I have made up my mind to not come to your lame ass birthday party

Lily: WHAT!? KIARA MCTAVISH WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS AND I DON'T WANT YOU SITTING WITH US AT LUNCH!!!

Kiara: Fine by me, bitch

Kiara blocked Lily's number along with the rest of the 'friends' numbers. She closed her laptop and got under the covers and fell asleep.

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Monday

Kiara saw her old friends eating and laughing and Lily was showing off her new gifts.

Kiara looked past the group and saw the girls that played video games just behind them playing on their switches and seeing like they were having fun together.

Kiara put on a brave face and walked past her old group of friends to the other girls.

Lily and the others all gave Kiara a nasty look as she passed them but she ignored their stares and glares and mentally imagined herself flipping off Jade, sticking her tongue out at Angel and slapping the shit out of Lily.

"Hi."

"Oh hi, Kiara."

"Can I sit with you?"

"Sure," the girl moved over letting Kiara sit next to her as Kiara placed her bag between her feet and placed her lunch on the metal table.

"Have you ever played this?" She asked Kiara.

"No," Kiara shakes her head.

"Here, try it," she gives Kiara her switch and showed Kiara how to play it. "Wow, you did that so easily."

"I use to play video games," she says.

"Here..." she writes down her number and gives it to Kiara. "We should play together sometime."

"I'd like that," Kiara gives her a soft smile and saved her number.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish

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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year

Text

not a dream

I just heard a song I haven't heard in years and was hit with the strongest flashback/blast from the past I think I've ever had.

It was the summer after I turned 12. I was at a summer camp on an island in Croatia, for the first and last time ever. I knew no one, but I made friends right away.

There was this boy. Yes, there's always a boy. He was the coolest guy I've ever seen. He was also 13, so how cool he could really have been? But to my younger self, he was everything.

I wore a Ramones shirt all the time. He wore a Sex Pistols one. We'd sneak glances at each other. I thought he was so dreamy. I really wanted to see his eyes, but I couldn't because he always had his hair covering them.

There was only one place to hang out during our free time, once camp activities were over. It was an old bar, but during the day, all of us kids gathered there.

They had a jukebox. You could play a song if you put in 5 kunas, and all of the songs were a bit older, but they were so good. So much rock, punk and folk. I've loved the songs choices.

I don't know why, but I've never had the confidence to put a coin in and choose a song myself. I just thought people who did it were the dopest, but I was too shy to do it.

I was sitting at a table with my bunkmates, we were drinking Pipi and Cedevita. Just, really Balkan stuff. We were reading OK! magazine and talking about celebrity gossip.

I think there was a new Avril song that just came out, and we were discussing it.

Then he came in.

In my head, there was always a soundtrack and wind following him. He was the protagonist. Like, he'd open the door to come inside anywhere and there would be wind in his hair and you could hear "Holiday in the Sun" in the background around him.

Anyway, he came in, all mysterious and broody. God, I really wished I could see his eyes.

He walked straight to the jukebox, put a coin in, pressed a song, walked right up to me, said, "This one is for you," and walked out.

I think me and my bunkmates all screamed a little. They were all pushing me and yelling and giggling. I was awestruck.

And then the song played.

youtube

"Sweet, sweet little Ramona, with eyes as huge as the church bells.

Sweet, sweet little Ramona, when will I hear the sound of our love bells?"

Maybe I died a little inside. No, I definitely did.

SURE, I never talked to him in person, not even after that, but for that one summer and those two weeks, I felt special. I was special. I was special and he liked me back.

#not a dream #long story #first crush?#Youtube

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA for telling my mixed race cousin the truth about her racial background?

This happened a few months back but continues to divide our family to this day, and I have my own regrets about it, so I thought it would be good to get some outside perspective.

My little cousin (we'll call her May) was privately adopted by my aunt 17 years ago. Her biological mom already had 4 kids at home, 2 of them special needs, and she was an unplanned pregnancy. But she was also deeply religious and against abortion, so she went to her (southern baptist) church for help. My aunt was a member of that church and was having trouble conceiving, so she offered to adopt the woman's baby and she agreed.

I know all this for a fact because my aunt asked my mom to come with her as emotional support when she met with the bio mom and dad at their home to talk more about the details. I was dragged along (8 years old at the time) and saw the bio parents myself. The mom was white, and the dad was black. I sat and listened to them talk about boring adult stuff and heard both the man and woman refer to May as "their baby". Then I got bored and went in the other room to play with their kids on the xbox.

Fast forward 17 years later to the present day and May has done pretty well in life. She's a straight A student with a 4.0 and wants to be a physicist. She knows she's adopted and knows she's mixed race (would be pretty hard to hide, since both her parents are whiter than mayo and she's obviously not). I never said anything about her being half black, because I assumed she knew. I found out she does not when she was talking about looking into scholarships and says maybe she can get a scholarship for Indigenous peoples. I laugh because I assume she's joking.

May looks at me and asks why that's so funny, and I say because she's not Native American. She looks truly pissed now and like she's geared up for a fight against a racist and says yes, she is. I look at her parents for backup but they won't look me in the eye. "May, I met your parents. You're half black," I told her. She calls me a liar and says that's stupid, because her parents got her through an adoption agency and she knows she's half Native American.

Now I'll tell you, I know my aunt and uncle made jokes about how she "looks like an Indian" when she was a baby. I know they dressed her up in racist "Indian" outfits every Halloween (first I wasn't old enough to know it was racist, then I thought it's not worth the argument bringing it up). I know her cringey online persona when she was 12/13 was called "PocahontasGirl", and her online "aesthetic" has always been nature and romanticized, spiritual Native American stuff. And again, I never said anything because it wasn't worth the argument, and I figured she would grow out of it when she was less immature. I had genuinely know idea it's because her parents have been lying to her.

I tried to convince her I wasn't lying, I tried to get my aunt and uncle to back me up, but May is a terror when she's mad and she was screaming and crying at me for being racist and calling her parents liars so I just left. She's blocked me everywhere since then, and my aunt called my mom to rant about me filling her daughter's head with lies and trying to break up their happy family. My mom said I should have just left it alone, I said May deserves to know who she really is, and how can my mom condone lying to her when we both know the truth? My mom said just to drop it, it isn't any of our business. That she didn't like the fact that my aunt lied either, but bringing it up now was an asshole move because it would divide the family no matter what. Either May would believe me and hate her parents, or believe her parents and hate me.

In my heart I feel like it's wrong on so many levels to adopt a mixed race child then lie about their heritage, and I think my aunt and uncle are just plain racist. But I can't blame May for not believing me and believing the people who raised her. And I truly do miss her, having known her all her life. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 month

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 18

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Steve stood frozen as he took in the tears running down your cheeks, your knees sunk into the grass, your hand pressed next to the name carved into the stone.

Justin Keith Randall

Beloved Son, Husband, and Father

1963-1994

What in the hell was he doing? He’d intruded on your conversation with your dead husband. He’d cut right into what was obviously an emotional moment for you. He’d shattered this very private heartbreak for you, coming in like a baseball bat colliding with a window. Had he really thought that following you to the cemetery was a good idea?

“Steve? What…what are you doing here?” you asked, your brows meeting in the middle in confusion.

Good question. What was he doing here? After his chat with Nancy, he’d been so desperate to talk to you, to make things right, to apologize for being the jerk who’d walked away from you at the hospital and then hadn’t even bothered to check on you. When you weren't home and Lucas told him where you'd gone, he hadn’t even stopped to think through what he was about to do. Hadn’t even considered why following you there was a bad idea. He hadn’t even contemplated why you might be in a cemetery, whose grave you might be visiting. He’d just gotten in his car.

“I wanted to talk to you. I mean…” He gritted his teeth, hands coming to his hips, wincing at his own stupidity. Now he had to backpedal, get himself out of this, not appear to be the heartless jerk who hadn’t considered your feelings again. “I showed up at your house first but you weren’t there. Max was out with Eli practicing the skateboard and Lucas told me they were watching him because you’d gone to the cemetery. And so I came here…to talk to you…but now I’m thinking that was a really stupid idea. Obviously, this is not the place or the time. Clearly you wouldn’t want me to be here. I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry. Jesus, I’ll just…”

He turned to go but your voice, quavering and soft, saying his name, stopped him. You rose to your feet as he turned back to you, brushing your knees off of the dirt and grass that was clinging to your jeans.

Pushing your hair back off your shoulders, you faced him, and even in this state, broken and grieving, you were beautiful. The red, swollen eyes, the grass stained knees, the sadness etched into every facet of your face did not take away from how absolutely stunning this woman was. It took every ounce of self control he had not to pull you into his arms, to hold you until he could take all of that hurt away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should have known…when Lucas said you were at the cemetery…obviously you were here to see your husband. I feel like such a dick right now. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

“No. No. It’s okay,” you insisted, shaking your head.

Your arms wrapped around your stomach, that familiar gesture he’d seen both you and Eli use, as if you could hold all your broken parts in, as if you could keep them from spilling out into a messy pile on the floor. It gutted him to know you'd both known such devastation that you'd had to learn to compartmentalize it. You looked so fragile, as if the smallest pressure would shatter you, and he couldn’t stop himself this time. Steve stepped into you, not touching, terrified you would rebuff him, but feeling the ache in his chest ease a bit at just being close enough to do so if you wanted that.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worried that he was the cause of your tears and sadness. Had he ruined any shot he had with you? What kind of guy just disappeared on the girl he loved for four days after she’d been in the hospital? What kind of guy disappeared on the girl he loved for four days, period? What kind of guy didn’t even call to check in on you, knowing the struggles you dealt with on a daily basis?

Those pretty pink lips pressed together as you nodded, “Yeah. I’m alright. I was actually going to try to come talk to you when I was done here so I guess you saved me the ride.”

“Oh. You were?” Did that mean you'd been planning to come to fix things or end things? He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer but it was too late now. He would find out where he stood one way or the other.

“Yeah. Steve, I’m so sorry,” you cried, the tears falling from your eyes once again and all he wanted to do was stop them. He couldn’t bear to watch you shed another tear because of him.

“No, no…I’m the one who should be sorry.” His hands wrapped around your arms, giving in to the gnawing need to feel you, leaning down to catch your gaze. “I was such a jerk, honey, and I am so sorry. I just…I got scared. I got scared because I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you didn’t see a future with me.”

That little furrow appeared between your eyebrows again. “But I told you I did. I said forever. I used those exact words.”

“I know you did but when you had an attack after I talked about moving in together…well, I thought maybe you were rethinking everything. Maybe you weren’t seeing a future with me. Maybe being slapped in the face with the reality of what that meant, you didn’t want it anymore. I thought maybe you were going to end things and I…I was a coward. I didn’t want to give you the chance to do it so I didn’t give it to you. And I felt like I was the reason you wound up in the hospital in the first place. I swore I wouldn’t push you to do anything you weren’t ready for but there I was, pushing, just like I always do, and I didn’t want to cause you to have another attack. I don’t know. My brain was in a million places at once and I just took the coward’s way out and avoided you. Hell, I even sent Nancy to pick up Jeremiah so I wouldn’t run into you at the school.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

Steve’s arms pulled back, fingers running through his hair in agitation. This conversation was not going at all the way he’d planned. He’d thought it all out in the car, all the things he wanted to say to you, how to get you to understand. But now, standing in front of you, none of it was going the way he’d planned. His words were coming out a jumbled mess as his nerves took over, his fear that this wouldn’t work and you would simply walk away from him.

“Look…I have never felt like this before, okay? I’m thirty-two years old. I’ve dated a lot of women in my life.”

“Thanks for that reminder,” you muttered, crossing your arms, kicking the grass with the toe of your shoe, your eyes downward.

“No. That’s not…my point is, I’ve never had a woman make me feel the way I do when I’m with you. I wish I could explain it but I don’t even have words for it. You make me crazy, but like, in the best way possible. You make me want to be the best version of myself. It’s something I’ve been working on for a long time but I’ve never wanted to work harder than I do for you. You’re everything and when you…when the thought of us living together caused you to have anxiety, I was afraid that I was about to lose everything I’ve wanted my whole life. And I was afraid because I thought I had caused it. King Steve royally fucking everything up again because I got too attached too fast. And I know I do that. I know I do but this isn’t like that. I’m not too attached or pushing or wanting to be close to you because of my fucked up childhood. It’s because with you I see everything I want. With you I see the future I want and I just want to start it as soon as possible. I don’t want to miss out on any time with you because I love you. I am completely in love with you and it scares the shit out of me because I don’t really think I’ve ever really been in love before you.”

Your eyes were wide, soaking him in, your mouth parted as if the words were there but just not coming out. You looked back at the headstone behind you and then at him, a subtle reminder that you had been in love before. You had your great love and his hands trembled at the thought that you might not have any more room for another one.

“Steve, you didn’t cause anything. None of it was your fault. I wasn’t…my anxiety sometimes has no rhyme or reason. I hate it. I hate that even a serious conversation could mean me having a complete meltdown. I don’t want you to be scared to talk to me about stuff. I hate that when you mentioned us moving in together it sent me to the hospital. I hate that it caused you to avoid me. It’s so damn frustrating and I wish I could handle things like other people do.”

“No. It’s okay. You just said that you hadn’t had attacks that bad for a long time. Well, until you met me. And I assumed that maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe I was causing you stress.”

“You do but not like you think you do,” you groaned, your hands flying through the air before covering your face. “I wish I could give you one solid reason for why it happens but I can’t. The oddest things can bring it on. And it’s not everything. Sometimes I’m fine but sometimes I’m not and I don’t know. You asked about staying over and all your reasons made sense but it’s something that worries me because of Eli…”

“Hey, hey.” Steve stepped into you, his hands cradling your face. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I won’t bring any of it up again. I won’t push. You tell me when you’re ready. You can make all of the decisions going forward.”

“No Steve,” you sighed, your hands wrapping around his forearms and his heart sunk. Here it came. This was the moment where you told him no, you didn’t want this, didn’t want him. This was the moment you told him it was over, leaving him broken like the box of old toys in the garage. “I don’t want to make all of the decisions. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t share how you feel or ask me questions.” You gently pulled his hands away from your face, stepping to the side, pressing your fingers against your forehead.

“I just want to do what you need, honey. I don’t want to ever cause you anxiety.”

“But that’s just it. You will. You will cause me anxiety, Steve,” you huffed, tossing your hands in the air in frustration. “There’s no way of avoiding that in a relationship.”

“I can try. I mean, I know you probably came here to talk to Justin because I made you feel awful. You probably needed to feel close to the guy who didn’t do that to you and I get it. I just disappeared and I’m a shit for it. I should have talked to you, checked on you. I’m a shit for pushing you into something you’re not ready for. I’m a…”

“Steve! Stop,” you pleaded, your hands held in front of you before covering your eyes. Dropping them to your sides, you looked skyward and inhaled, releasing it slowly before looking at him. “Please. Just stop and listen. I didn’t come here to talk to Justin because you were a shit. I didn’t come here because he never made me awful. Christ, Steve, of course he did and I did it to him. We’re human. Humans tend to do that to each other from time to time. I didn’t come for any of those reasons. I came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he asked, wondering how you could say goodbye to someone who’d already been gone for two years. Hadn’t you already done that? But he didn’t voice it, not wanting to be insensitive to whatever reason had brought you to your husband’s grave.

“Yes. I had a long talk with Janice at the hospital while you were downstairs, before you even came up. She helped me realize some things, to see things that I was doing without even knowing I was doing them. And then I called my therapist on Monday and she squeezed me in because of the severity of my attack.”

“That’s…I mean, that’s good, right?”

“Yeah. It was. We talked about a lot of stuff, stuff I didn’t realize I was doing. Losing Justin was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. It completely destroyed me. It felt like the floor had been ripped out beneath me and I was just swallowed into this dark pit of anger and despair. I never thought I would claw my way out of it. The attacks started soon after that. They would come on for no reason…or at least that’s what it seemed like. My therapist helped me see that they came on when anything reminding me of Justin popped up. It would be the smallest things. The neighbors would have pizza delivered, his favorite food, and I would be curled into a ball on the floor. I would catch a whiff of the cologne he used and I would be hyperventilating in the middle of the store. Our song would play on the radio and I would have to pull over because I thought I was having a heart attack. Once we realized why it was happening, she started to give me tools to help in the moments when it did. She started me on meds. After a year, I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was letting it all go and moving forward with my life.”

“You are doing okay,” Steve assured you. “You’re doing amazing. I am in constant awe of your strength and perseverance. You went through something devastating, something that would have shattered someone else, and you’re still standing.”

“I am. And I am not going to dismiss that fact. I’m really proud of how far I’ve come. Eli is the one thing that really kept me upright because I knew I had to be his mom. I had to be there for him even when I couldn’t be there for myself. But what I didn’t realize was that I hadn’t really let go. I was still holding onto Justin because…because I was scared that if I didn’t, that I was saying that what we had meant nothing. And it meant something. It meant everything. I didn’t want to just forget him. I didn’t want to just move on. I felt like he deserved so much more than that but in doing that, I wasn’t allowing myself to live.”

You lifted your left hand, turning it to face him, a pale line where your wedding ring used to be. Steve had noticed that you still wore it. Of course he had. How wouldn’t he notice that the woman he was falling for was wearing another guy’s ring? But the circumstances were complicated. You weren't wearing some guy’s ring that you'd left, that was still out there on the fringes, a threat looming that he could just swoop back in and you'd be gone. You were wearing a ring of a man you'd loved and had taken from you, a man who wouldn’t have left, wouldn’t have walked away. How could he say anything? So he hadn’t. He’d never shared that it bothered him a bit every time that glint of gold and gems caught his eye.

“I was still wearing my ring. It never even occurred to me to take it off, not even after we started dating and I knew it was something serious. I think because I still felt like I was married. I didn’t choose this. He didn’t choose this. We didn’t sign papers and hire lawyers and decide to part ways. It was forced upon us. I think the anxiety attack came on because next week is going to be the two year anniversary of when we lost him. And I…I don’t know if forgot is the right word but it wasn’t in the forefront of my mind like it was last year. My therapist…well, and Janice,” you snorted, rolling your eyes, “think my subconscious, that guilt I’ve never really let go of, took over in that moment because you make me so happy. And you making me happy makes me feel guilty because I feel like I am somehow betraying him. And I know that’s silly. He’s not here. I’m not cheating. I’m not doing anything wrong. But there’s also Eli and I am so scared for him to get his little heart broken again. He already loves you so much and he wants you to be his dad so much and I don’t think he could handle losing another one.”

Steve’s synapses were firing with your confession of everything that had been tormenting you since all of this began. It was a lot to take in and he was struggling to focus on more than just the part where you said you were happy, the part where you were considering him to be a potential father figure to your son. Because that part let him know that you weren't walking away, that you were as deeply entrenched in this as he was. He searched for the right words, feeling like it had never been more important to get this right, to say the right thing.

“Honey, I understand all of that. But I have to believe that your husband, knowing you and how amazing you are, and knowing the little bit that you’ve told me about him, would want you to be happy. And as for Eli, I have no intentions of going anywhere. I want this. I’ve told you. I am completely in.”

“I know that. I know you are. And so am I. I wanted to stay the night with you, Steve. I want to spend every night with you. I wasn’t even looking for anything when you came along. I’d gone on a few bad dates with guys from a dating site only because Janice pushed me to, and I wanted to get her off my back, but I wasn’t really looking. I’d resigned myself to being alone because I never thought I would find something like I had with Justin again. But then here you came and you made me question everything. You made me question if I was ready. You made me question my belief that no person can get lucky enough to find happily ever after twice. You made my son so happy. You made me so happy. You made me smile again. You made me laugh again. You made me feel alive again and I mean…how is that not worth the risk? I want to be with you, Steve. I want it all with you. I want to spend my nights and my mornings with you. I want to move in together someday. I want to be a family with our boys together. And yeah, you’re right. It is soon but we’re not fifteen year old kids who are blinded by our hormones. I know it’s you that I want in my life. In such a short time, it just feels right. It just feels like it’s the way it’s supposed to be. You make so much sense. You just fit in my life. But if that’s all too much for you right now, I understand. I know you don’t want your space invaded. I understand if you need some distance to breathe in this relationship but I just needed you to know how I feel. Because I don’t want you to ever have to doubt it again.”

“But…I didn’t mean any of that shit.”

“What?”

“Honey, I want you to invade my space, all of my space. Go ahead and take it all up. I only said that because I thought it’s what you wanted. I thought you were freaking out that I’d even mentioned you spending the night with me, let alone moving in together. I panicked and I said it and it was stupid but I never meant it.”

“You…you didn’t?”

You sounded so hopeful and it just made him want to flog himself. These last four days could have been avoided if he hadn’t been such a dingus, as Robin liked to call him. If he’d hung around just long enough for you to explain then neither of you would have had to go through all this uncertainty. What was Nancy always telling him? Communication was key. Obviously, because this miscommunication had almost cost him the best thing that had come into his life since Jeremiah.

“No. God no. I would lock you in my house and never let you go if I could.” He stepped into you, his arms wrapping around you, folding you against him, relishing the way you just melted into his embrace. His lips brushed against your forehead. “Honey, I love you. I don’t want distance. I don’t need to breathe.”

You laughed, “Actually, you kind of do.”

“Okay, yeah, I do, but being with you makes me feel like I can breathe. I want this too. I want it all. And we don’t have to rush anything. But maybe we could start with staying together tonight? Jeremiah’s already at your place. I left him with Lucas and Max so I could talk to you alone. We can talk to the boys first and see how they feel about it.”

You tilted your head back, smiling up at him, “Yeah. I think that sounds like a great idea.”

“Good.” His lips found yours, the moment they touched was a sigh of relief, his body relaxing into the kiss, having you right back where you belonged.

____________________________________________________________

Four weeks came and went in what felt like the blink of an eye. May had been there and gone, with so many activities to fill up the spaces on your calendar in the kitchen. From baseball games to the end of year picnic to field day, you felt like you'd barely turned the page on your calendar and you were already turning it again. Already you were in the middle of June and the boys were taking advantage of every moment of their summer break.

You and Steve had settled into a pleasant rhythm. The boys had been more than okay with the idea of sleeping at each other’s houses. They had been more than okay, giddy even, at the idea of you and Steve sleeping in the same bed. Those devious little grins shared between the two of them, marking their pride in their own role in the current situation. You were sure they were already plotting the next step, feeling this was just the beginning of everything they’d been working toward since that night at the ice rink.

On nights when Steve had Jeremiah, you stayed over at Steve’s house so Jere could have all of his things. On nights that he didn’t, Steve had been staying over at your place. You'd thought Eli may find it strange to have Steve there without Jeremiah but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He still had a playmate, just in adult form, as Steve would challenge him to video games and endless rounds of Uno, hours playing catch in the yard, and he loved helping Steve with anything around the house.

Every fear and uncertainty you'd had about moving forward, about getting your son’s hopes up, your own hopes up, had been completely unfounded. Because taking the next step, being a part of each other’s days and nights, had only made everything infinitely better. On the rare nights you didn’t spend together, you found yourself tossing and turning, reaching for the warmth of a body that wasn’t there.

It didn’t happen often but Steve had to travel a couple times for work. This new development was taking up a lot of his time and he’d had meetings with companies for supplies they needed that took him out of town. Last week he’d been gone for three days and you had been pacing the floor, anxious for him to appear on the doorstep, missing him more than you’d miss your own arm if it went missing. You pounced, almost knocking him to the ground as you leapt into his arms, the moment the front door opened, that familiar shape appearing in the doorway.

Now you were pacing around the house, anxious for an entirely different reason. You'd already cleaned the house from top to bottom, weeded the garden, done laundry, and no longer had anything to keep your nervous hands busy. Fluffing the pillow you’d already fluffed four times, your eyes looked up at the clock. Your parents were going to be arriving at any moment and they were going to be meeting Steve for the first time.

It really shouldn’t make you anxious. Your parents loved everybody. Justin had a far easier time with his in-laws than you’d had with yours. They’d adored him from the minute they’d laid eyes on him, probably before, because their version had always been as long as you were happy, they were happy. But your mom and dad, while they were two of the best parents anyone could ask for, could be a bit overwhelming when you didn’t know them. You just hoped Steve knew what he was in for.

A hand came up, wrapping around your arm gently, “Put the pillow down.”

You sighed, dropping it to the couch. That hand spun you, strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a firm chest. All the tension oozed right out of you now that you were in your favorite place, your safe space. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, those hazel eyes twinkling amusedly.

“You have got to relax. This is going to be fine. I told you. Parents absolutely love me. I’m not worried so you shouldn’t be worried, okay?” His hands locked at the small of your back, a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “The house looks great. I’ve got the spare ribs marinating in the fridge. The potatoes are baking in the oven. The boys are all showered and primped with strict instructions to stay inside until after the grandparents have seen how nice they look. You look amazing…” He growled playfully, head dipping into the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell amazing.” A playful nip to your ear that had you squealing. “We’re totally ready.”

“I know. I know.” Your head fell back, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his mouth explored the column of your throat. “I just hope you’re ready for this. My parents…” Your fingers speared past the nape of his neck into his hair as those lips found their way between your breasts, exploring the skin your top didn’t conceal. “My parents will love you. They just love a little…aggressively.”

“Mmm…aggressive love can be fun, you know,” he murmured. You could feel the smile against your skin before his fingers pulled the v-neck of your top to the side and his teeth sunk into the curve of your breast that spilled out from the cup of your bra. His other hand cupped your ass, pressing you against his very obvious erection.

“Jesus Steve.” His tongue traced your bottom lip, heat pooling between your thighs, leaving you to wonder if you had time, if you could manage to hide from the boys. You could be quick. You could…the sound of the doorbell quickly dashed any hopes of that plan. “Shit. They’re here.”

Steve moved to the bottom of the stairs to call the boys down while you made your way to the door, adjusting your top. You opened it to instantly be swept up in a group hug, your dad on one side and your mom on the other, your head smashed between theirs. The sound of footsteps barreling down the stairs let you know the boys had arrived.

Your mom pulled back, eyes wide, grinning at the sight of the two kids standing in front of her. Opening her arms wide, she rushed at them both, pulling them into her sides as she exclaimed, “Oh, look at my beautiful boys!”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted toward you and you just shrugged back. But he didn’t have long to ponder your mother referring to his son as one of her boys before she was on him as well, enveloping him in a hug before taking his face in her hands.

“Oh my goodness. You are quite beautiful yourself, aren’t you? No wonder my girl is so smitten. Who wouldn’t be with that hair and those eyes and…would you look at those eyelashes! Frank, have you ever seen such long eyelashes before? Good lord. What I wouldn’t give for a set of eyelashes like that. You must have had all the girls swaying on their feet in high school. Bet you still do.”

“Now Sally, give the boy some space to breathe,” Frank grumbled, dropping their bags onto the floor. “You haven’t even introduced yourself and you’re already fawning over his eyelashes.”

He shared a knowing smile with you, neither of you surprised. Your mom had absolutely zero filter and no sense of personal space. The moment she met you, you were her best friend in the world. Your friends had all adored your mom when you were younger. Sally always felt like a friend instead of a parent, joining in the gossip, painting nails, taking you all shopping and to the movies.

“It…it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Madden,” Steve stammered and you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. You had tried to warn him and he’d insisted it was fine. But your mom could be suffocating, a blanket of warmth and love that would smother you until you couldn’t find any air.

“Oh, none of that Mrs. nonsense,” she insisted, swatting at his arm. “You just call me mom. I mean…” She turned to you. “You are all a family now, aren’t you? So that makes you my family too. Oh, this is so exciting. I got another grandson and a son in one go.”

“I’m not your grandson, though.” Jeremiah’s statement wasn’t rude, just confused, wondering how this was all working.

“Well, you are now.” Sally walked over, dropping down to her knees in front of the boys. “I’m Eli’s grandma so now I’m your grandma too. I mean, if you’re okay with that, of course. You don’t have to call me grandma if you don’t want to. I know you already have a couple of those. You can just call me Sally if you’d prefer.”

Jeremiah looked at her and then at his dad. Steve smiled and that seemed to be the only confirmation he needed. With a shrug he said, “You can be my grandma too. I mean, most kids only get two but now I have three!”

Steve leaned down, his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “He means Joyce and Karen. He doesn’t really know my mom and honestly, that’s for the best.”

“Well, then I guess that makes me your Grandpa Frank,” your dad said, stepping forward, offering his hand to Jeremiah. The boy took it, shaking. “Wow. Strong grip there, kid, but that’s no surprise since my daughter’s told me what an amazing baseball player you are.”

Jeremiah beamed at you, “You told them I’m amazing?”

“Of course I did,” you replied with a smile. “Because you are. You and Eli both have done so well this season.”

“Yeah. We can’t wait to see you play on Saturday. Specially planned this trip just so we could catch a game,” Frank said.

“Well, why don’t you all head into the living room and relax? I’m gonna grab the ribs from the fridge and get them on the grill,” Steve announced.

“Well, I can help you out with that,” Frank offered, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if my daughter told you, but I’m a master griller. Won the rib-off three years in a row.”

Steve’s eyes widened, “Really? She failed to mention that. I guess the pressure’s on then for my ribs to be good enough.”

“Oh, no pressure son. I just like grilling.”

“I’ll get the salad going and pop the macaroni and cheese into the oven,” you told them.

“Well, looks like we are not needed,” Sally smirked, one arm coming around each boy. “Now, tell me everything. I want to hear about school, baseball, girls.” When both boys ewwed, she laughed. “Oh, we’re not there yet, I see. Just give it some time.”

____________________________________________________________

Will and Nolan had not been exaggerating when they said they would pull out all the stops for your parents. Your pants were digging into your stomach uncomfortably after enjoying course after course of delicious dishes. They were all Nolan’s specialties but someone else was preparing them tonight as he and Will were sitting at the long table with everyone else.

This was your parent’s third night staying with you and it was not the first time they had met everyone that was currently sitting at this table. That had been yesterday at the baseball game when they’d been inundated with new faces. Luckily you had the kind of parents who were absolutely delighted, hugging every single person, excited to meet new people, wanting to know absolutely everything about their lives.

Janice had even taken the opportunity after the game, while they were all enjoying ice cream cones at the park, to announce her pregnancy to the whole clan. Nancy had squealed as if her own sister had just shared the good news. Robin had hopped on her feet while El beamed, exclaiming how she loved babies, much to Mike’s apparent unease and everyone else’s amusement.

“Oh Janice, we’re going to have to throw you the biggest shower,” Sally gushed and then winced. “Sorry. I’m probably overstepping. I am sure your own mom is handling everything, right?”

Your friend laughed, “Yeah. But she would love the help. My sister is driving her insane with all the phone calls and ideas. You know Krista, she just can’t help trying to run the show.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” snorted Steve, his eyes rolling pointedly toward Nancy.

“Oh, haha,” she snorted, rolling up her straw wrapper and tossing it at him. “There’s nothing wrong with being organized. Someone in this group has to be responsible.”

“I’m responsible!” Lucas protested. “I’m an accountant. I mean, how much more responsible can you get?”

“You still think it’s funny to make fart noises with your armpit,” Max pointed out, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “You’re basically a man-shaped child.”

“Oh, because it’s so adult to skateboard,” Lucas snapped back.

Eli straightened up in his chair, “I think skateboarding is cool.”

“That’s right.” Max nodded, putting out her fist for the kid to bump. “You tell him, Eli.”

Sally looked absolutely delighted at the chaos around her, grinning as her head turned this way and that, following each conversation as it happened. You knew your mom had always wanted a big family but that had been dashed when she suffered complications after having you. Complications that wouldn’t allow her to have anymore kids.

“And how long have you two been seeing each other?” your mom asked, turning to Robin and June, her chin resting in her palm, eyebrows bouncing with interest.

“Oh…us…it’s really new. Only forty-three days.”

Your lips pressed together, your hand grabbing onto your glass of wine and taking a drink so you didn’t comment on Robin knowing the exact number of days. You didn’t want to embarrass your friend but damn, girl must be really far gone if she was counting out exactly how many days. You were far gone too but you couldn’t have told them days. Weeks? Yes but not down to the days.

June smiled at Robin, a look full of so much adoration that it even warmed your heart watching it. Maybe they were both in deep. That thought made you happy because Robin deserved this and so did June. June’s hand covered Robin’s on top of the table.

“Aww, babe, you know how many days?” Robin flushed. “Best forty-three days of my life.” With a small laugh, she turned back to Sally. “Of course it took her friends asking me out for her. I was waiting, hoping that I wasn’t reading into things. I thought she might be interested but it was hard to tell when she wouldn’t even speak to me.”

“It was hard to speak to you! You’re so pretty,” Robin gushed. “You intimidated me. And to be fair, I didn’t know if you were into women. I mean, imagine if I would have asked you out and you wouldn’t have been. You would have been disgusted by me.”

“Oh please!” Sally exclaimed, her hands coming to her chest. “Do you know how flattered I would be if a woman hit on me? I mean, come on. Men will hit on anything with boobs. But if a woman hits on you, she genuinely thinks you’re attractive.”

“Do I need to be worried here, dear?” Frank teased, leaning in. Sally swatted him with her napkin, laughing.

“So, now I have three grandmas!” Jeremiah exclaimed from where he sat down the table between Eli and Dustin. “I mean, how cool is that? How many kids can say they have three grandmas?”

“That is pretty cool,” Dustin agreed. “I only have one.” He shrugged. “I mean, I have two but since I don’t know my dad, I don’t know that grandma. So she had to exist for me to be sitting here but…”

“Does that mean I have three grandmas, too?” interrupted Eli, his face turning to you.

Before you could answer, Karen leaned over the table, winking at him, “You are even luckier because you have four grandmas, kiddo. You have your Grandma Judith and your Grandma Sally. And now you have Grandma Karen and Grandma Joyce.”

“That’s right, kid,” Joyce agreed, tossing him a wink. “I’m afraid if you’re going to have Steve around, then we all come along with the package.”

“I hope you’re okay with having a Grandpa Hop, too,” Hopper added, raising his beer.

“So…so I have four grandmas and three grandpas!” Eli’s eyes were wide, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “That’s more than like any kid has ever had, ever!”

“Not to mention a bunch of aunts and uncles,” Lucas told him.

“Yeah, Eli. You just inherited a whole family,” Dustin said, gesturing around the very full table.

“Wow! That’s a lot of birthday presents!” Eli declared, causing a round of laughter from the table.

“Yeah, and we don’t play when it comes to presents,” Will stated.

Nolan snorted, “Seriously. Your Uncle Will has no self control when it comes to shopping. He would bankrupt us if I didn’t control him.”

Jeremiah’s face crinkled, his brow furrowing as he considered all the words being spoken at the table. He appeared to be in serious thought and then he looked down at you.

“So…so are you like my mom now, too? Do I have two moms?”

Your stomach clenched, your hand gripping the edge of the table as your eyes darted over to Nancy, hoping the woman was not offended by his question. You had never been trying to replace her, ever. Jeremiah had a mom and you were fine just being you to him. Besides, you and Steve weren’t even living together. You weren’t married. This was all just…you didn’t know what this was but it seemed a bit soon for this discussion. Even though the boys had talked about marriage, it felt different doing it in front of everyone.

Nancy smiled at her son, “If someday you would like to call her mom too, that’s okay with me. She’s going to be a big part of your life now.”

“But you don’t have to,” you assured him. “I can just be Y/N.”

“Yeah, like I’m just Jonathan,” his stepdad told him. “You don’t call me dad because Steve is your dad and that’s okay. You still love me, right?”

“Yeah. I do, a lot.”

“So…I just call you Steve?” asked Eli.

Steve looked at you for help but you had none to give. You weren't sure what to say or where this was going. This was really up to Steve and without you even living together, it seemed an insane question. But Eli was seven and he’d been wanting this for a while. It didn’t surprise you that he was asking. He’d been trying really hard to make Steve his dad for months.

“Well, you also have a dad,” Steve finally answered. “But if someday, you think you would like to call me dad, I would be honored, kid. Really, I would. Nothing would make me happier, Eli. But I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to. I can just be Steve too. It can be whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Damn honey, you snagged yourself a good one,” your mom whispered in your ear. “Don’t let that one go.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

Steve’s hand found your knee, squeezing gently and you laid your head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you sat, content and happy, watching everyone you loved laugh and talk and eat together.

“I love you.” It was the softest whisper, caressing the shell of your ear.

A soft smile tilted the corners of your mouth, “I love you too.”

Yeah. This was happiness. This was love. This was your second chance at happily ever after, not just with Steve, but with every single person sitting around this table. They’d given you and your son a sense of belonging, a sense of peace, and a sense of safety. You were absolutely at peace with the idea of this being her forever.

Chapter 19

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fortisfilia · 1 month

Text

Promised Part 13 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 12 | Part 14

Part 13 - Pranks and proper Paybacks

The quill in your hand scratched lightly over the parchment as you were taking notes for Astronomy in the library. It was quiet, as usual, except for the occasional questions and thereof resulting explanations between Ben and Camille. She helped him study for his upcoming Herbology exam, for which he clearly hadn’t revised enough yet. Silly boy.

Tom was there too and sat next to you, completing the quartet round the table. He tried his best not to hiss at them every time Ben asked something. You noticed from the corner of your eye, how he gulped down every thought that built up in his head when another word poured from Ben’s mouth. It was amusing seeing Tom battling with himself to keep his cool. He still didn’t like Ben very much and would much rather study with you alone. But the fact that he had voluntarily sat down with the three of you, tried to behave and didn’t yell at Ben whenever he opened his mouth, was a sign that he probably didn’t hate him as much as he pretended to.

“So, about the Fluxweed again,” Ben whispered, browsing through his book. “How many days does it have to grow?”

Camille was about to answer when Tom pressed his palm against his forehead and exhaled dramatically. “Sixteen, Ben. It’s sixteen. She’s told you that three times at least.”

Ben took a quick look at Tom, while still fumbling through the book. “I know, mate. I just can’t memorise it. Why do I even need to know that?”

Tom flung a piece of parchment toward him, pointing at the empty sheet. “Write it down, then. There are some things you must know. Get over it.”

“Alright, alright,” Ben grinned, apparently not caring about Tom’s tone at all. “I’ll write it down, see? Fluxweed takes thirteen days to grow. Happy now?”

“Sixteen,” Camille, Tom and you sighed in unison.

“Oh.” He crossed out the number and sloppily wrote the correct one above it. “Sixteen then.”

Camille and you chuckled to yourselves while Tom only shook his head slightly, his eyes back inside his own book. Ben certainly was careless, or to be more precise, a lot more careless than Camille, Tom and you when it came to grades. The way he talked about homework and even exams was astonishing. He hadn’t even studied for his O.W.L. in Care for Magical Creatures in his fifth year, and he still got an ‘Exceeds Expectations’. Or so he had told you. He'd always found a way to talk his way out of things, unsurprisingly. Teachers really seemed to like him. Or rather do anything to stop him from talking once in a while.

“Oh, wait,” Ben said again.

“Just read your book,” Tom grunted.

“No, hang on.”

Ben stood up and stretched his arm out quickly, reaching and grasping for something to your left. You all turned your heads and saw him catching something that had been flying right at you.

“I might be bad at Herbology. But you’re lucky I’m a bloody good Seeker,” he said and twisted the thin thing between his fingers.

“What is it?” Camille asked. “Let me see.”

Ben put the thing down on the desk, still pressing his index finger on top of it. “It’s a quill. I think it’s jinxed. It was flying on its own and headed right for your face,” he said and looked at you. “Still wants to, I can feel it moving.”

The grey quill twitched eagerly beneath Ben’s hand, trying to escape and pointed its sharp tip right at you, ready to pierce into your skin.

“Not again,” you mumbled.

“Again?”

Things, odd things, had been happening during the week. Someone had played some pranks and antics on you. You hadn’t found out who it was yet, but it certainly had become pesky. On Monday, someone had left you a note that said Professor Merrythought wanted a word with you. Once you had arrived at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, however, you were met with a confused teacher and had a hard time explaining yourself. Tuesday, someone had poured Rash Powder over your dinner. You had almost taken a bite but thankfully had noticed the unfamiliar smell in time. Wednesday was more subtle. There had been puddles and slippery spots everywhere you stepped. Avoiding them had been a tedious task. And now, on Thursday, this. The quill didn’t look like it could badly injure you, but its vivid nature was a sign for a hex, rather than a jinx. No matter who it was, all those things did tear on your nerves. Not only because the pranks got to you, but because there was a possibility someone had been following you without you noticing. Every time you had gone to the Come and Go Room you had turned around and checked if someone was behind you, just in case. That was the exhausting part.

“Just some pranks,” you explained. “I don’t know who or why, but it’s getting fairly ridiculous.”

“Could someone”-Ben puffed-“stop this thing? It’s trying to escape.”

Tom pointed his wand directly at the quill and rolled his wrist. It lit up for a fraction of a second and crumbled to dust right after.

“Ouch,” Ben yelped and fanned his hand through the air hastily before putting his index inside his mouth. “Thanks, mate.”

Tom smirked, partly for the spell he had just cast and partly for burning Ben’s fingertip. “Anytime, mate.”

Camille dragged her finger through the ashes, took a good look at them and rubbed it off between her index and her thumb. “Who would do that?”

“I don’t know,” you answered.

“Avery and Lestrange again, perhaps?”

“Unlikely,” Tom said. “I checked on them some days ago. They’re still with Carpe most of the time, scrubbing the floors and polishing trophies. And besides, they wouldn’t dare.”

“Who else could it be then?” Camille asked as she blew the remaining ashes off the desk with a quick cleaning spell.

The four of you exchanged looks around the table. “To be honest,” Tom began. “I was suspecting you for a while, Ben.”

“Me?” Ben asked wide-eyed. “Why would I do that? I just stopped that quill.”

“‘I’m aware, I’ve seen that now.”

Camille hummed, deep in thought. “Wait,” she said. “What about Freda? Freda Morris.”

“The head girl?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” she said. “She was so jealous at Slughorn’s party, wasn’t she?”

Tom looked at you, biting on the inside of his lower lip, then nodded. “That doesn’t sound too far-fetched.”

“I wouldn’t have thought she’d be so creative,” you said while picking up your books. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her then.”

Once you had gathered your things, you got up and waited for Tom to do the same.

“Where are you going?” Camille asked. “It’s not even seven yet.”

“I have to,” you stopped yourself. You had to tend to the potion in the Come and Go Room again. Needless to say, you couldn’t tell them that. “I have to go and look after Nagini. The snake. She’s shedding at the moment. Talk to you soon.”

“Let us know if something else happens,” Camille said and waved you goodbye.

Tom followed you silently. Of course, they didn’t ask him why he had to come and check on Nagini as well. The perks of being intimidating. Apart from this, Camille and Ben surely didn’t mind studying without him nagging all the time.

On your way out, right when you left the library and headed toward the grand staircase, Tom and you were halted by another student. Platinum blonde and blue-eyed, Abraxas Malfoy, who was one of Tom’s ever so devious sycophants, locked eyes with him.

“Tom,” he greeted and stopped right in his tracks.

“Abraxas,” Tom replied.

Oh, what did he want now? There wasn’t a lot of time until the potion had to be stirred, so hopefully Malfoy wouldn’t keep you from going any longer.

“So,” Abraxas began. “I’ve seen, you like to keep new company these days.”

Tom frowned and looked over his shoulder. Clearly, Abraxas didn’t mean you. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he said and chortled a sour laugh. “I’m just observing. You’re dealing with mudbloods now?”

He was talking about Ben. Malfoy and Tom’s other ‘friends’ had probably seen you in the library together. Or in the Three Broomsticks, some weeks ago. Abraxas must have felt really brave to talk to the head boy in this way. His chest was swollen with pride and the glint in his gaze spoke more than he could have ever said. He was out to get something from this conversation.

Tom only exhaled sharply and stared back at Malfoy, unconcerned about his reproach. “And how come that’s any of your business, exactly?”

“Oh, it isn’t of course,” Abraxas answered. “I was just surprised. Shocked even.”

“I do apologize,” Tom sneered, clicking his tongue in fake sympathy. “That the gathering of other people, who don’t concern you in the slightest, has ruined your precious day.”

Abraxas stared back at him, obviously trying hard to keep calm. His smile still sat neatly on his face; it was his eyes that betrayed him. “No need to worry about me. I merely started thinking, daydreaming, that your Grandfather might not appreciate that.”

Tom took a step closer, his nostrils flared for a moment and a vein on his neck stood out. “Abraxas,” he whispered so spitefully, it almost sounded like he was talking in Parseltongue, words spilling out of him like pure venom. “I’d advise you to worry about your own life. Because if you don’t, wouldn’t it be tragic if your Mother found out what happened last year at your house? When the maid left and never came back? What was the reason again? If only I remembered. Oh, I do.”

Malfoy’s expression changed momentarily, his head sunk and his eyes darted across the floor, trying hard to think of what to answer.

“Do we understand each other?” Tom asked.

Abraxas nodded, lips thin and full of fury. He instinctively retracted and took a step back, keeping his head low and looked up at Tom through knitted brows.

“Good,” Tom said and left Malfoy standing there.

Continuing to walk to the grand staircase, he appeared like nothing but a casual chat between two friends had just happened.

“Well,” you said after Abraxas was out of earshot. “That was interesting.”

“They’re all so stupid, sometimes I wonder how they’ve lived this long,” Tom replied. “I have dirt on every single one of them. And they try to blackmail me. Ridiculous.”

“Idiots indeed,” you shook your head. “Do I want to know what happened to the maid?”

“You don’t. It’s a long, repulsive story.”

No doubt it was. Abraxas was known for his dreadful ways and how he had tormented younger students ever since. He wasn’t like Avery or Lestrange, a dumb follower, who had Hippogriff crap for brains. No, he was mindful, awfully aware of his surroundings and constantly seemed to brood about his next step. He reminded you of Marvolo, they both had the same aura, cold and demeaning, always looking for ways to take advantage of other people’s misery. It was no surprise that he had tried to intimidate Tom, maybe even pass him in their hierarchy by threatening to tell everyone about his association with a muggle-born. But he hadn’t thought it through. Tom Riddle wasn’t one to mess with and he had just made that crystal clear. Ben might have not been his friend, but still, he hadn’t let Abraxas speak ill of him.

“I wouldn’t have thought you liked Ben,” you said once you turned another corner.

Tom opened his mouth and looked at you in disbelief for a moment, as if you had just insulted him, before he started talking. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, it just seemed like it. You came to his defence so quickly. That’s why I assumed.”

“This wasn’t about Hilt. It was about me, Marvolo and that bootlicker Malfoy.”

“Whatever you say,” you grinned while Tom rolled his eyes.

Friday evolved to be the worst day of the week. Not only had you almost gotten detention for falling victim to a Knockback jinx during Defence Against the Dark Arts if Camille hadn’t come to your rescue. Professor Merrythought still hadn’t forgotten about your visit on Monday and thought you were trying to disturb her lesson again. But in addition, your curriculum almost hindered you from tending to your potion completely. It had become nearly impossible to handle everything at once. Your classes, homework, studying for the N.E.W.T.s, taking care of the antidote and on top of all that, those stupid pranks. It had been draining and your body ached for a bit of rest.

On your way to Tom’s dorm, when the sun had already set and you were finally done with everything for the day, you heard the clink of a door handle turning behind you. It almost had gone overheard, the only thing you wanted to do was sit down for a moment and unwind, even if only for an hour. You had already reached the door to Tom’s room and could have just entered to forget about the world for a while. But there was this unsettling feeling inside of you and Camille’s words from the library ran through your head again. You turned around. And thank Merlin you did.

Freda Morris stood in her door frame, smirking with her wand pointed right at you. She must have been taken by surprise, it didn’t seem like she had expected you to look at her. Her wand sank in an instant before she hid it behind her back.

“You,” you muttered, taking some steps her way. “It was you all week, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, mocking you with a smile.

“Just admit it at least. Coward. You know exactly what I’m talking about and you were just trying to do it again, weren’t you?”

Freda shook her head and put a strand of hair behind her ear with her skinny fingers. “I’m head girl, dear. I would never do anything to harm another student if that is what you’re implying. I don’t know what could have given you the idea.”

“Oh shut up,” you spat. “Head girl, yes. An awful excuse for one at best.”

The door behind you opened and Tom appeared from inside. He looked out into the hallway frowning. “What’s all that noise about?”

“Your fiancée’s throwing a fit.”

“Camille was right,” you said, still not taking your eyes off Freda. “It was her. The note, the quill and everything else. I just caught her right in the act.”

Freda heaved one single, shrill laugh at your words and straightened her posture. “I just told you, I would never do such things.”

“What were you doing then? Pointing your wand at me, when I have my back turned on you.”

She pondered, taken aback, while she looked at Tom beside you until her grin appeared back on her face. “You’re imagining things. I was just leaving my room to go and talk to Professor Dippet. That’s when you started to yell at me for no reason.”

“Liar!”

She didn’t lower herself to even look at you anymore. Instead, she looked at Tom. “Is this really what you look for in a woman? Hysterical and hostile? I would have thought you had better taste.”

The need to go up to her and slap her across the face seemed almost unbearable. Your hands were balled into fists and it took all your might not to take out your wand and pay her back everything she had done to you, times ten. Tom on the other hand stayed calm and smiled weakly while looking back at her.

“Don’t worry about my taste, Freda,” he said. “I’d rather worry about your memory. Maybe you haven’t been informed, which would be very unfortunate seeing that you are head girl, but Professor Dippet isn’t in Hogwarts today. He’s been called in by the Wizengamot. How could you have been on your way to him then?”

Freda’s smile faltered, her eyes darting back and forth between Tom and you. “I must have not gotten his owl then.”

“Certainly,” Tom said. “I want a word. Now.”

“No,” you intervened and he stopped his movements to look at you. “I can do this myself.”

Tom stepped back with a small smirk on his face. Freda was in for a treat. You walked up to her until there was only a hand’s breadth of space between your faces.

“Listen now,” you said, your heart pumping strongly inside your chest. “I don’t know what you were thinking. If you were thinking. But I swear, if you ever play another of your pranks on me again, I-”

“You what?” she asked and shoved you by the shoulder. “Do you think I’m scared of you?”

The moment she had touched you, you felt something moving by your feet. Nagini had slithered out through Tom’s open door and hissed louder than you had ever heard before. Freda gasped and took several steps backwards, startled by the snake. Nagini placed herself between the two of you and reared up, looking as huge and aggressive as ever. Her hisses were meant for one person only and when you looked back at Tom, you recognised that he wasn’t talking to the snake. She had come to your defence on her own.

“Take that thing away,” Freda yelled. “Make it stop.”

“Or what?” you asked. “You might have not been scared of me yet, but I promise you, give me one more reason and you will be.”

She didn’t dare answer, still looking down at Nagini in utmost panic and trying to foresee every move the snake was about to make. You savoured on the sight for a moment, fervently enjoying how Freda fumbled for the doorknob behind herself.

“Come Nagini,” you then said as you turned around. “Leave her alone. For now.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 14

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

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kidsnextdoor-doodles · 3 months

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Some of my favourite bits from Sooper Secrets and Boomerang Bloopers part two

The fact that this is 95% a persona she’s putting on for her objective

Nigel needs therapy Part 2. Lizzie probably has to encourage this behaviour because she’s a GKND operative

HERBIE SECTION HERBIE SECTION HERBIE SECTION Guys he’s an important character he got his own section trust me (coping)

He’s autistic your honour. Also intrigued by the fact he gets every top secret mission assignment. Guys he’s important I SWEAR!!

I just thought these were an interesting tidbit

Herbie agrees that Nigel needs to chill. Probably because he’s annoyed at being called so much. Also not to overthink a tie in book but, first name basis?

The fact that Kuki can just speak to animals but I haven’t seen any fans do something with it

FANNY SECTION FANNY SECTION FANNY SECTION

This just made me laugh. Again, not to overthink a tie in book but Fanny thinking Rachel would agree makes sense when you consider what Rachel said at the end of op fugitive (“I'm ashamed to call you a girl! I never thought a girl could be so stupid!”). Also moonbabes crumbs so Gay!! Part 4

These two together makes me think that Fanny hating boys wasn’t because of some major turning event in her life like a lot of people portray. It was just something that built up over years and she just got ruder lmao. Also any Decom lore crumbs are very appreciated here

As someone who lives with a ten year old boy, I don’t doubt this for a second

Everyone shitting on numbuh 13. Snarky Hoagie lol. Also numbuh 12 girl what are you doing here??

Nigel wears sunglasses so he can stand out, and suggests that neon orange shoelaces are a good idea

Nigel needs therapy Part 3

Nigel NEEDS therapy Part 4

RACHEL SECTION RACHEL SECTION RACHEL SECTION

Guys idk being supreme leader doesn’t sound very fun /s. The fact that she apparently really wanted to be supreme leader makes this very ironic. Confirmation that she knows of the TND directly, I can imagine the earful Chad got after op End. Also she’s one of the two known operatives to like spinach, the other is Hoagie

#knd #codename: kids next door #kids next door #sooper secret and boomerang bloopers #lizzie devine #numbuh 65.3 #numbuh 6 #numbuh 86 #numbuh 13 #numbuh 2 #numbuh 4 #numbuh 5 #numbuh 12 #numbuh 14 #numbuh 60 #numbuh 362

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comfort-writing · 1 year

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Crayons & Cassettes

Chapter 1: The First Day of Kindergarten

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. She bonds with you instantly, and Eddie is trying not to do the same.

warnings: this fic will be 18+ in later chapters, so minors DNI! In this chapter, it is mentioned that rumors about Eddie that still linger. no use of y/n. nothing else I can think of for this chapter because it’s really just an introductory one, but please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 3k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

Trying to shove tiny feet into tiny shoes at 6:30 in the morning was no easy task, especially when the owner of said tiny feet was fighting with all the strength in her five-year-old body to keep said feet out of said shoes.

“Please, Sage. I’ll do anything you want, just please let me put your shoes on.” pleaded an exhausted Eddie. They were already running late, which meant that he would get dirty looks from the other parents, well, dirtier than what he was already expecting. It was Sage’s first day of kindergarten, which he felt bittersweet about. She’d been attending preschool in previous years, so the transition wouldn’t be as difficult for her as it may be for other children, but she didn’t always do well around new people. She was like her dad in that way- she could be shy at first (which deviated from his own standoffishness), but once she warmed up, she was a sweet and bubbly kid.

Sage put her resistance on hold, “Anything?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Eddie knew that look: mischievous and calculating. It scared him a little to see that she was so much like himself, but it also made him a little proud. “Yes, baby. Just put your shoes on and we’ll do anything you want after school.” Sage thought for a moment, then made intense eye contact with Eddie, “Ice cream. And breakfast for dinner.” She bargained. Eddie chuckled and nodded, “Sounds good to me. We got a deal?” He asked, dropping the small shoe he was holding and sticking out his hand. She nodded and shook it, then stuck her foot out for him, beaming at the fact that she would get her two favorite things later that day. Little did she know that he had already planned on those things happening.

He sighed and thanked her, slipping on her glittery pink sneakers and tying them before picking her up off of the couch and setting her on his hip as he grabbed what they’d need for the day. Sage’s brand new Care Bears backpack- check. Keys- check. Wallet- check. Care Bears lunch box- check.

“Alright, ready to go?” He asked her. Sage nodded warily and Eddie walked out the door, kicking it closed behind them before walking to his beat up van, sliding open the back passenger door and setting Sage in her booster seat. He placed her bags on the floor by her feet and helped her buckle her seat belt. She looked up at him, “Dad?” She asked in a whisper “Yes, baby?” He responded absentmindedly. “Do you think my teacher will like me?” She asked anxiously. That made Eddie pause. He looked at her very seriously, grabbing her tiny hands in his own, “She is going to love you, kiddo. You’re freakin’ metal.” He said, leaning down and kissing her forehead. She nodded, “Metal.”

Your classroom was perfect. You’d decided on a rainbow theme for the year, wanting the classroom environment to be welcoming, colorful, and engaging to the 26 five-year-olds that would arrive within the next hour. Your lesson plans were perfect too. You were quite proud of yourself. Moving to a completely new state after teaching in another for a few years made for somewhat of a culture shock. Learning all of the new standards and adapting your previous lesson plans to fit them, along with having to write completely new lessons that fit your school’s specific curriculum was difficult, but not impossible. It was done. Everything was perfect. You were ready.

You’d moved to Hawkins, Indiana at the very end of the summer. You grew up in another small, southern town, so the small town environment wasn’t exactly new to you. It just meant you had to find your footing here. Declare yourself as a character amongst the established ones. You had been able to meet a few of the other teachers, and they all seemed nice enough, but they were all much older than you were. You graduated college only three years prior, and it seemed like half of your coworkers were on the brink of forgetting what college they went to. You needed to find friends your own age, and quick, because being a teacher can be stressful. Having friends around who you can vent to is key to keeping yourself sane.

You looked in the mirror on the inside of your classroom closet door, adjusting your hair for a moment. It was tied up with a clip, messily, but purposefully and cutely so. You pushed a strand behind your ear and made sure you didn’t have lipstick on your teeth. You decided to wear a light green dress and white sneakers- cute, stylish, and comfortable enough to chase around several very energetic children. You knew that the first day of kindergarten was always one in which you met the parents, and while they’d mainly be focused on their children, you knew there was a large possibility of photos being taken. You wanted to make a great first impression, and if your were immortalized in a Polaroid or two, you’d like to look nice. Above you, the school bell rang, signaling to the children that they could start making their way to class. You smiled and walked over to the door of your class, opening it up for the parents to bring their kids in.

Parents and students began trickling into the classroom. You shook their hands and introduced yourself to each one, smiling genuinely and directing the parents to where their child’s desk and cubby were located. On the first day, you always let parents stay for a while, and even held a carpet story time/coloring session in order to make the transition easier for both parties. You noted that a few kids were crying, which gave you a good indication of what kids would continue to be criers throughout the year. You didn’t judge, you just liked to know what was up.

You were crouching down to take a picture with one of your new students when a man who looked very out of place in your rainbow classroom walked in, a small girl hiding behind his pant leg. You smiled up at him, holding up one finger apologetically, signaling that you’d be with him in a moment. You looked up at the mom who’d just taken your picture, “Would you like me to take a picture of the two of you?” You asked. The woman nodded, so you stood and swapped positions with her. You wound the film on her disposable camera, “Say cheese!” You encouraged, which drew a confused face from the small boy, as he’d somehow never heard the phrase before. You snapped the picture without realizing the face he’d made and smiled, handing the camera back to the also oblivious mother and she walked her son to his desk.

You then turned your attention to the man standing in the doorway. You smiled and stuck out your hand, introducing yourself. “Eddie Munson.” He said softly. His hands were warm, but you noted the rings he wore made them feel colder. Eddie was an attractive guy, you wouldn’t lie to yourself about it. His hair was long, dark, and curly. He wore a leather jacket and a denim vest on top of it. He definitely had the whole rockstar look down, which looked a bit funny when surrounded by rainbows. There was also his daughter, who looked like a pink glitter bomb had exploded over her, as was typical for girls her age. You didn’t linger on his touch like you may have liked to, as you had to introduce yourself to someone more important. You bent and stood on your knees, peeking around Mr. Munson’s knees, “And who is this pretty princess?” You asked, hoping that calling her a princess would help her warm up to you.

You were right. The small girl poked her head out from behind the man’s knees. You saw that she got her looks from her dad; she had brown, curly hair that was currently tied back in a high ponytail, coupled with bright brown eyes and a small smattering of the lightest freckles across her nose. She spoke, barely above a whisper, “I’m Sage.” You smiled encouragingly, “That’s such a pretty name. Did you know Sage is a type of plant? And a color?” You gasped, piquing her interest, “Oh my goodness! It’s the color of my dress!” You said, feigning surprise, as if you were just discovering that fact for the first time. “And guess what?” You whispered. Sage was entranced, gaining the courage to move out from behind her dad and listen to the ‘secret’ you were entrusting her with. “It’s my favorite color.” You smiled softly, making eye contact with the small girl. It made her feel special. She smiled up at her dad, who was watching the interaction intently. “You want to find your desk and set your stuff down, Sage?” You asked her. She nodded fervently, excited to get the day started.

You stood back up to your fill height and led the two to Sage’s desk. “So, Mr. Munson, you are welcome to through story time and coloring. I try to allow time for the parents to stay for a while to help their kids adjust to the new environment.” You told him as Sage was putting her lunch box into her desk. The man seemed to shift uncomfortably, “Ah- I don’t know. Are you sure?” He asked you. You nodded, “Yeah, of course. Every parent is welcome to stay through that time. If Sage doesn’t do well around new people or in a new place, it can help her out a lot.” You assured him. He seemed to think for a moment before nodding, making his decision.

Little did you know, the reason so many people were watching the interaction carefully was because, despite being a good dad who provided for his daughter, the rumor mill still swirled around the Munson family. He didn’t want his daughter to have to deal with the same problems he did, so he was apprehensive about staying, but you seemed to believe it would benefit her if he was there, so he would stay.

Another parent walked through the door, so you excused yourself to go greet them the same way. After your kindergarteners we’re all there, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. You smiled wide, walking to the front of the classroom. “Good morning, everyone! I hope we’re all excited to get started with our day! Today, we are going to…”

After successfully driving Sage to school, and luckily arriving around the time he’d originally intended to somehow, he guided his small daughter through the halls of the school. At the end of the kindergarten hall was Sage’s classroom for the year. He bent down to her level, “You ready? Or do you want to take a minute?” He asked her. He knew that sometimes she had to prepare herself to go into a new situation. He was the same way; needing to take a few breaths or psych himself up for whatever he would encounter. Sage thought for a moment, “I’m ready.” She said, looking determined. He nodded, holding her hand and guiding her to the classroom.

That’s when he spotted you. You had the biggest and most genuine smile on your face as you took a photo with another student. He saw the way you acknowledged him right when he walked into the door, making him feel seen, but still kept your focus on the people you were with, most likely doing the same for them. It was a small gesture, sure, and it may have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but he really didn’t know what to think about all of this. He didn’t recognize you, even though you seemed to be around the same age, so that meant you likely hadn’t heard the nasty rumors that still lingered around him like a rain cloud, even into adulthood. He was drinking in the small kindnesses you showed him in the following interactions.

You reached out and shook his hand, introducing yourself to him. He didn’t know why, but it surprised him that you introduced yourself with your first and last name to him. It made you seem more approachable. He spoke his own name as calmly as he could, internally struggling not to stumble over it. When you bent down to introduce yourself to his daughter, he watched as you related to her immediately, over something as silly as a color. But she opened up quickly to you, which was so incredibly rare for her. He truly couldn’t grasp what it was about you, but he basked in your presence and he didn’t want to leave. Not for Sage’s sake, but for his own. It was no secret to himself that he found you attractive- you were pretty, new to their small town, and he didn’t see a ring- but there was something else he couldn’t place. He obviously couldn’t do anything about it in the moment, so he shifted his attention back to his daughter, helping her prep for her first day.

Once you wrapped the story up, you had the students start on a coloring page that correlated with the story. This was the time for parents to start trickling out. Eddie watched as other parents left. He looked to Sage, “Listen kiddo, I’ve got to go to work, but I’ll pick you up later, okay?” He told her. During pre-k, they’d gotten pretty good at the whole ‘dad’s going to be gone for a few hours but you will be ok’ exchange. Sage nodded, “Okay. Don’t forget about the ice cream and breakfast.” She said, scribbling with a red crayon and not paying him much attention. He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head before standing up and heading towards the door.

Before he could leave, you grabbed a piece of paper off of the desk, “Oh, Mr. Munson-“ you whispered, as the students were quietly working as the parents slowly left, “Here is my newsletter for the month. It basically covers everything we’ll be doing in class, and what you can be doing to help supplement Sage’s learning at home. I usually mail these out to the parents, but the front office said your address changed recently?” Eddie took the newsletter and nodded, “Ah- thank you. Yeah, we moved into a new house last week. It was after I registered her, so I’ll have to get that changed. Do you need me to write my address down before I leave?” He asked. “Well, if you would, that would be very helpful, but if Sage will get upset if you’re here longer, I can just wait until you update your information with the office.” You told him quietly. Eddie shook his head, “Nah, Sage is a trooper. She knows the drill.” He said, proud of his daughter.

You smiled softly, a smile that made his knees feel a little weak, and grabbed a pen and a notepad off of your desk, handing it to him. “If you could write down your new address, as well as your phone number, that would be great.” You told him. He had to fight the urge to make a joke about hitting on him in front of the kids. Years ago, that would have been the first thing he said to you, and he wouldn’t have thought twice. But now, his number one concern was his daughter, and doing anything that may end up being detrimental to her, like flirting with her teacher, was off his radar. He scribbled out the information before handing the paper back to you, “Thank you. Just make sure you update this with the office as soon as possible. Hopefully you’ll only hear from me about once or twice a month, as I do the newsletter and a call home for an update. But keep an eye on the events section of the newsletter-“ you said, pointing it out, “-it will have important dates like any parent/teacher conferences and the kid’s Christmas recital on there. And please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever have any questions or concerns. My information is down at the bottom. I’ve got an answering machine, so leave a voicemail if I don’t pick up; I should give you a call back within 24 hours.” You informed him quietly, finishing up with a soft smile.

Eddie nodded, taking in all the information you were giving him. It felt like a lot, but he knew that most of the important stuff would be in the paper you gave him. “Thank you. I’ve still got a little more time before work so I think I’ll go to the office now.. where is it again?” He asked, feeling more lost than he should. This is where he went to elementary school, but it had been so long since he’d been in the building it felt a little foreign to him. You smiled and opened the door, pointing him in the right direction through the halls. He thanked you once more, then started off thought the school as you shut the door.

You and Eddie were both left the same thought:

This isn’t good.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #singledad!eddie Munson #dad!eddie Munson x reader #teacher!reader #singledad!eddie Munson x reader #stranger things #fanfic #I kinda ignore canon events sorry #I just want Eddie to be happy is that so wrong

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skepsiss · 7 months

Text

Modern problem, Modern solutions - pt4

This is the part where it hurts. I'm a sucker for miscommunication. Just teens being dumb and bad at talking. Having fun with what was pop-culture in 2015, god it made me feel old though.

TW: Underage drinking/drugs (weed), slight suggestion of sexual harassment (misstep that is corrected), suggested sexual language/intimacy.

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

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Eddie's frustration with himself had grown over the course of the last few weeks; they were well into October and Halloween was fast approaching–his favourite holiday. Despite it being his favourite, he never did much on Halloween and hadn't since he was 13. It sort of sucked actually. He had moved to Hawkins when he was 12 to live with Wayne and he hadn't known anyone to go out trick-or-treating with at the time so he had awkwardly stayed at the trailer and only half dressed up to go to school that day. Previously, when he lived with his dad he hadn't lived anywhere populated enough to make trick-or-treating worth it or been allowed to go. So, he had always missed out on walking door to door in costume–he hadn't even been able to afford a costume, and putting in the effort to make something was sneered at or condemned as a waste of time and money. He had only gotten 1 good year of trick-or-treating in when he was 13 and then that was it. After that, well... having fun on Halloween was pretty dependent on whether or not you got invited to a party.

Beyond that, everything Halloween-related made him think about horror and then vampires and consequentially Steve. It was kind of frustrating actually. Everything he thought of led back to Steve and it was becoming harder and harder to be in his presence without acting like an idiot. Time spent together was still sparse and only really happened at Pride Club or when Steve popped in briefly at Hellfire. Still, every interaction was painted in anxiety for Eddie and at the end of the day he often flopped onto his bed and cringed at himself over what he had said or how he had acted. Steve was nice, but it was obvious that there was nothing deeper than that. He could see how Robin and Steve interacted and how different Steve was around people he actually considered his friends. He gave them a hard time, poked fun, joked, smiled, and scolded them like a sibling. He wasn't really like that at all with Eddie, or if he was it was short-lived and felt surface-level to Eddie. It was frustrating and Eddie wondered constantly why he was trying so hard. He just so badly wanted Steve to like him, as a friend or otherwise....

Otherwise.

Otherwise was the thing that was annoying Eddie more than anything. He was 17 and there was no way he was going to be able to ignore this forever: Steve was a handsome guy and he was friendly. Eddie was not immune to the effects a good-looking guy could have on him–a good-looking guy that was queer and talked to him, at that. So, he had let himself fantasize once or twice when he was home alone, blending the images of porn, celebrities, and people he found hot together to get relief. He had felt horribly awkward after the fact and that was only doubled when he had interacted with Steve the next day. He had been downright ashamed and couldn't even look him in the eye. Even now, he felt awkward when his brain reminded him that he'd done that–and then went and did it again half a week later. Shameful, really.

Eddie's tact to dealing with his awkwardness had been to act a bit aloof and put out when Steve and him had talked after that, masking his shame with quiet indifference. He still tried to be friendly, but he didn't want to tip Steve off to the fact that he found him attractive. Still, there was a small part of him that liked when Steve paid attention to him....

Eddie and everyone else in Hawkins–who was he? Jesus Christ.

That was why it had been surprising when Eddie had received a message from Steve on Instagram a few days leading up to Halloween. It had been simple, and though he and Steve had communicated sparingly, Eddie hadn't wanted to change his behaviour in order to use the app more often just because Steve was on it. The message had been simple and impossible to misinterpret.

Having a Halloween party Saturday, want to come?

Eddie had stared for a beat before the next message came through, not able to process all of that right away.

Robin said she'd come, costumes required.

Steve's texting was painfully bad: the message was riddled with vowel drops and squashed letters without a sign of punctuation in there; still, it was easy enough to get his meaning.

Where? Eddie messaged back, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck as he realized what this meant. Was this a party-party? Or was it a hang-out-with-friends kind of party? What was he supposed to prepare for?

My place, Steve answered, 8 on Saturday. BYOB.

Oh, bring your own bottle, classy. So, it was probably a party-party. That meant there was likely to be a lot of people going–a lot of 16-year-olds. Well, at least then Eddie could stand out as a little cool for being an older guy who showed up... that or the lamest one there to be hanging out with people younger than him. Shit. He was overthinking it already.

I'll think about it, Eddie lied, already resigning himself to going as his heart beat out of his chest, nothing to wear.

What should he wear? How hard did you go for a costume party like this? He didn't want to be lame and not dress up at all, but if he went too hard that would make him a laughing-stock.

Girl problems, Steve messaged back, followed by a quick j/k. Eddie had been able to tell he was being sarcastic, but he vaguely appreciated the clarification. He forgot to reply either way.

Every girl there was going to be dressed as Harley Quinn–Eddie was sure–and everyone else was going to be some version of Captain America or Left-Shark. Eddie didn't want to be pedestrian about his costume choices, but if he did something too obscure–ugh. He was going to go insane if he thought too hard about it. He was already going insane, honestly.

Eventually, after much deliberation, Eddie decided to just go as a pirate. He had attempted to make something of a Captain Jack Sparrow costume but hadn't had access to the funds to buy anything new. His hair was long enough already though, and he opted not to knot it to make it more 'authentic' even if he had twisted yarn and tied trinkets to his hair like Jack had. White shirt, eyeliner, vest, belts, and simple black pants. It was passable and if people gave him a hard time he was just some pirate or whatever. He had quietly been bitter that he couldn't find a hat or a coat that would work.

Eddie had purposefully shown up late to Steve's party and had quietly stolen some of the beers Wayne kept in the fridge before going. It wasn't a secret, Wayne knew he took his alcohol sometimes, but they had never talked about it. Sometimes, quietly, Wayne had made a sideways attempt at reminding Eddie to be safe, but he had never really... put his foot down. Eddie appreciated that, and he silently recognized that he'd probably drink more if he was told not to.

Eddie arrived at Steve's place through his backyard: the Harrington property backed onto the forest that connected to the surrounding area of the trailer park. It was still a good 20-minute walk and it had been spooky as shit walking it in the dark, but it was easier than trekking out onto the road and taking an indirect path to get to Steve's. He knew where Steve lived–most people at school did–and Eddie had to admit that when he was younger he had scoffed openly at the Harrington house. It was ostentatious and too large for a family of three, but Eddie had reconsidered as of late. Sure, he could hate the house, but it wasn't like Steve chose it himself.

It had been impossible to mistake Steve's house from the back, too. Eddie had been able to hear the party before he broke the tree line and despite the party not being "out of control" the sound of teenage laughter and pop music were unmistakable.

Eddie slouched as he made his way up the lawn and tried not to make eye contact with anyone there. He was a good hour late, but that was to be expected. People here didn't seem that drunk yet at least, so Eddie walked to the house before just stepping in through one of the many open doors. He scanned the room for anyone he recognized, coming up empty. Most of the people here he knew were on the local sports teams Steve was a part of, some people Eddie himself only had a vague knowledge of. He couldn't see Steve or Robin anywhere–or anyone else that might have known that would have been invited to this. Great.

Eddie swallowed and mentally buckled in as he walked towards the kitchen to find a bottle opener. There were more than a few out of the counter and he helped himself as he cracked open one of his beers.

"Munson–" someone was saying as Eddie took his first sip of beer, the flavour neither here nor there for him.

Eddie turned, seeing some guy he was sure was part of the basketball team. Or he thought he was, whatever, he was dressed up in some kind of orange jumpsuit, probably meant to be a prisoner.

"You uh..." the guy asked, raising his hand to his lips and making a smoking gesture.

Eddie snorted, taking another drink from his beer. Cool, well, at least if he didn't know anyone here he could pass off his attendance as just the guy ready to sell weed.

It wasn't a secret that Eddie smoked and it wasn't exactly a secret that he smoked more than just cigarettes. A lot of the kids in the alternative program did and Eddie had spent a couple of years in those special classes. He had been bumped out to just needing a "teacher's aid" for grade 12, and he hadn't minded so much. A lot of the burnouts were worse to talk to than the jocks, only because if you pissed them off the grudge would be held for years. At least the jocks forgot you existed.

"Yeah," Eddie said, fishing in his pocket for his cigarette box. He had stashed some joints in there, not having actually prepared to sell tonight. He really didn't sell all that often, only when things were extra tight at home, and Wayne had been somewhat consistently working as of late.

"How much?" The guy was asking, his speech a little slurred. That was one thing too, jocks like this never knew what weed was worth.

"Thirty," Eddie said, plucking the joint out of the box and twirling it between his fingers.

"Thirty?" The guy asked incredulously, patting himself down for his wallet.

"Inflation," Eddie answered, taking another sip from his bottle, "supply and demand and all that."

He could tell his comment was going over this guy's head and he wasn't sure if it was the booze or just his brain.

"More people at the party. More people want it. It costs more," Eddie lied, only keen on keeping at least one of his pre-rolled joints for himself.

Jumpsuit nodded at him and fished money out of his pocket, only coming up with 23 dollars which Eddie shrugged and accepted if Jumpsuit was willing to get him a beer too. He wasn't sure if the guy was going to come back, but a surprise beer later tonight would be nice.

Eddie toted his own pack outside, still looking at the partygoers to see if he recognized anyone before eventually–finally–spotting Steve on the back patio. He must have missed him when he walked in, but he wasn't sure how. Steve sort of stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone was dressed in these store-bought, weird costumes, and Steve–from the best Eddie could tell–was dressed like Robin Hood. And not some cartoony version of him either; he looked almost like the Cary Elwes version of Robin Hood: white billowy shirt, a jerkin, tights, and a quiver slung over his shoulder. Either Steve had shelled out to get the goods, or someone very enthusiastic had hooked him up. The other thing that stood out was Steve had a... goddamn bottle taped to his hand like some kind of frat bro. Actually, now that Eddie looked, a few guys had bottles taped to their hands.

Steve noticed him and Eddie tensed as Steve touched the guy's shoulder by him and then excused himself. He was smiling, and he didn't look all that drunk, but as he got closer Eddie could see that Steve straight up had a bottle of 'On the Rocks' taped to his hand. Vodka and Triple Sec? Oh, Steve was planning to go hard.

"Hey, you been here long?" Steve asked, grinning as he made his way over to Eddie.

"Uh, not really," Eddie replied, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes as he pointedly stared at Steve's hand. He seemed to notice and then waggled it a bit at Eddie, laughing.

"You know, have to finish it before I'm allowed a different drink," he explained. Eddie knew how that worked, but he wasn't sure how he felt about the bottle being an expensive pre-mixed cocktail.

"Uh-huh..." Eddie offered as a reply, taking a swig from his own beer and sticking a smoke between his lips.

"It wasn't full when I started," Steve explained, which was... kind of funny to hear. It sounded like he was defending himself from seeming 'too intense' or something. Or, it wasn't defensive, more apologetic.

"The guys thought it would be funny because it's a pink cocktail," he explained further which made Eddie snort and pinch his brows in. Fun. Just some casual homophobia at their queer teammate. Wear the pink thing, and drink the cocktail.

"Charming," Eddie retorted, half stepping away but not in an attempt to block Steve out. The irony of the whole thing seemed to be a bit lost on Steve, or maybe he didn't care enough.

"Munson," someone said and Eddie looked to see Jumpsuit coming back with a beer in hand. It was just a Blue Ribbon, but whatever.

"Here," Jumpsuit offered and Eddie lifted his case of beer for the guy to put it in the empty slot.

"Cheers," Eddie offered, flicking his lighter on and lighting his cigarette as the stranger trotted off. He glanced at Steve who was looking at him for some kind of explanation before Eddie took a drag and then motioned for Steve to follow him. He wasn't going to be that kind of ass that smoke in a heavily trafficked area. He knew most people hated the smell.

"What was that?" Steve asked anyway as Eddie leaned back against the pool house a few meters away from the action.

"Owed me," Eddie half explained, not sure why the fact that Steve was being a frat boy was making him feel less awkward. Probably because Eddie thought the behaviour was cringey and pathetic, so it made him feel a bit superior for once.

"I sold him some weed and he didn't have enough so he owed me a beer," Eddie explained in full, putting his cigarette and beer in the same hand so he could drink and smoke.

Steve made a knowing sound, leaning back against the wall beside Eddie and drinking from his own bottle.

"You selling drugs to people at my party?" He asked and Eddie felt his blood run cold. Oh. Maybe that wasn't cool. He hadn't thought about how that could affect Steve.

He looked at Steve only to have that worry melt away as he saw the smile on his face.

"Why, you want some?" Eddie retorted, his pride bruised just a little for thinking Steve was serious.

Steve half laughed, still smiling like some goddamn movie star.

"Sure, how much?"

Eddie wasn't really sure what to say to that as he swallowed a mouthful of smoke and then started coughing incessantly.

"You okay?" Steve asked as Eddie ducked to the side, coughing and trying to drink a mouthful of beer to help settle his lungs.

"Sorry–" Eddie wheezed, "inhaled weird–" He wasn't sure how that explanation was going to save face, but he straightened up anyways, nursing the small coughs that came afterward.

"On the–on the house man," Eddie explained, coughing some more as he waved Steve off a bit, "for hosting or whatever. Unless you're buying for everyone–I can spare 1 joint."

"You sure?" Steve asked, sounding a bit concerned as he reached over and patted Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie shook his head and rolled his shoulder to get Steve's hand off, pulling away to cough a bit more. His lungs were settling, but he sounded like an idiot gagging on his own smoke.

"Just gimme a second," Eddie offered, hands full as he took a healthy swig of his beer, "they're in my pack. Just lemme smoke this."

Great, he was already making an idiot of himself and he'd been here for like 20 minutes.

"I can grab it," Steve offered, not even waiting for a reply as he half gestured towards Eddie's pocket. He had moved with his taped hand at first and then corrected, shamelessly turning his back to the party so he could stick his hand into Eddie's pocket.

Eddie felt his blood run cold at that, rendered speechless as Steve squared their shoulders up and just started fishing in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Eddie felt a bit helpless, standing there with a case of beer in one hand and his bottle and smoke in the other, arms out to the side as he just watched Steve's fingers disappear into his jeans pocket.

"Woah uh..." Eddie started, swallowing again as he felt Steve get hold of the top of the pack, "you can just... wait a second."

Steve was already pulling the smokes out by the time he finished talking and he moved back to Eddie's side to lean against the wall.

"It's not a big deal," Steve shrugged, seeming to think the issue was that he had 'inconvenienced himself' doing a favour for Eddie, and not sticking his goddamn hands in Eddie's pants. Maybe Steve was a bit more drunk than Eddie realized.

Eddie took a deep swig of his beer before dragging so hard on his cigarette that he almost finished it in one pull. He watched as Steve tried to open the carton one-handed, awkwardly trying to push the flap open with his thumb. He was chuckling at himself a bit which made Eddie laugh in return, his nerves on fire as he watched Steve.

"Shit–" he was muttering in good humour, before putting the carton in his mouth and opening it with his teeth, "there."

Eddie snorted, needing to hide his delight and horror with humour in order to cope with whatever was happening right now.

"You really want to get high, huh?" Eddie asked, ashing his cigarette and watching as Steve mouthed at the top of his smokes before managing to get one of the blunts between his lips.

"Now what, genius?" Eddie asked, indicating towards both of Steve's hands being full without the ability to light the damn thing.

Steve snorted again, looking around and at his hands as he held the joint between his lips. That earned a proper laugh from Eddie as he put his own cigarette to his lips.

"Here–" Steve slurred as he tried to keep the joint steady. Eddie had no idea what he was doing, but Steve turned towards him again and leaned in, pressing the end of the joint against Eddie's cigarette.

He couldn't be certain, but Eddie swore he could feel his fucking soul escape his body as Steve stayed tucked in close, puffing on the joint to try and get it to light. Eddie's mind was drawing a complete blank as he stood there, pulling a little harder on his smoke and making it ember. He was staring intently at Steve, heart racing, while Steve's attention was purely on the smoke as he tried to get it to light.

It felt like it took ages, but eventually, he did get the damn thing to light and he pulled away, puffing once and then glancing at Eddie. He snorted and then fumbled to stick the carton back in Eddie's front pocket.

"Success," he said as he took the joint out of his mouth and exhaled. Eddie was still staring at him despite his hand having dropped from his own mouth so he was no longer smoking his cigarette.

"Professional," Eddie said finally, forcing himself to look away from Steve. He wasn't sure what to say or think of that but it felt like he needed to dive into the goddamn pool to cool off.

"You think?" Steve asked, taking a swig from his own bottle as he stood there.

"No," Eddie replied, finishing off his own cigarette and flicking it onto the ground to crush with his foot.

"Hmm," Steve hummed, taking another hit, "grab that, huh? My folks will be pissed to find butts out here."

Eddie glanced at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or not before bending down to pick up his smoke.

"Sure, sorry," he replied, holding the butt kind of awkwardly and looking around for somewhere to toss it.

"There's a trash can inside," Steve offered, nodding his head towards the pool house they were leaning up against.

"Right," Eddie swallowed, shifting a bit awkwardly as he tried to decide what to do before stepping away and looking at the door beside him. Steve laughed and walked over, holding the blunt between his lips again and then opening the door for Eddie. He bowed a bit foolishly, putting on a 'show.'

Eddie nodded his thanks and stepped in, letting the door close behind him. He sighed heavily now that he was alone, looking at the little room and noting that it was just a bathroom. There was a little shower and then a sink and a toilet, nothing fancy. It was probably just to wash the chlorine off yourself before going inside.

Eddie looked at himself in the mirror and frowned, unsatisfied with how he looked. He could hear the party raging outside still and he felt weird about ditching now. Maybe he should just go and try and find Robin who was supposed to be here too. How she was surviving this scene he had no idea, but he was barely holding on.

Eddie chucked what remained of his smoke and chugged his beer before stepping back out into the yard. Steve's company had multiplied and he was leaning against the wall with some other guys now as they shared the joint. Eddie felt himself tense, standing there awkwardly for a beat before Steve looked at him and offered him the joint. He hesitated and then put his empty bottle down, needing something to calm his nerves. He offered it back after a long hit and Steve gestured to one of his friends to take it.

Everyone seemed nonplused by Eddie's presence and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. It at least left Eddie's hands-free as he reached for a beer out of his case and then held it for a beat too long. How was he supposed to get this opened one-handed?

"Here," one of the guys said and Eddie glanced up to see him reaching for his bottle. He wasn't really sure what to do but didn't resist as the guy took the bottle from him and then fished his keys out of his pocket. He popped the cap off and flicked it at the guy beside him who cursed at him lightly before handing the bottle back over to Eddie.

He thanked him quietly, and the conversation around him continued, no one really paying that much attention to him. He wasn't a disruption in the flow of the conversation either, but Eddie felt too anxious to follow along with what was being said.

Eventually, the joint made its way back around to him and Eddie accepted the hit happily before passing it off. He worked his way through his beer slowly, chugging it a bit at times, and starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. He had drunk both his beers pretty quickly, and at this rate, he was going to be more than a little loose in the next hour.

"--more?" Eddie heard and he refocused his attention as he finished off the last of his beer.

"Do you have more?" The guy repeated and Eddie took a beat to realize what he was being asked.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie replied, putting his empty bottle down and fishing for his carton of cigarettes, "thirty."

He got much the same answer from this guy as he had the last and Steve laughed at him before giving Eddie a wry look. He wasn't exactly sure what that was for, but he'd take it.

"I only have forty," the guy said, grumbling. Eddie motioned to take it from him anyway only to have him reel back.

"I'm not overpaying," he retorted and Eddie chuckled at that, shrugging as he put the carton away. There was a small chorus of complaints before Steve chimed in.

"Okay, calm down, Lord," he sighed, holding his hand up in a 'wait a moment' gesture before chugging what was left of his drink. One of the guys whooped at Steve finishing his bottle and Steve stuck his tongue out in the most basic-bitch-way possible before finishing his sentence.

"I've got some change, I'll break your 20. Just give me the 40, and I'll give you 10 in a sec," Steve explained, sticking his hand out.

There was a half-begrudging agreement, but honestly, everyone sort of knew that the last thing Steve Harrington needed to do was steal money from you. So it was agreed on, and Eddie handed the joint over before falling in behind Steve and walking back towards the house when he gestured for him to follow.

"Don't walk away with my thirty," Eddie half threatened, weaving his way through people after Steve.

"Chill out," Steve snorted, walking towards the stairs. Eddie hesitated and watched as Steve toed his shoes off and ducked under the tape that had been pulled across the stairs.

Obviously, he didn't want people going this way, and Eddie could tell why. The stairs were carpeted and a pristine white, a bunch of teens barfing or trekking dirt all over the carpet probably wasn't going to bode well.

Eddie followed suit awkwardly kicking his shoes off and trailing after Steve.

"Where are we going?" He asked, hearing the hint of anxiety in his own voice.

"My room," Steve explained without turning around, "what? You think I can fit a wallet in these pants?"

He flashed Eddie a smile and Eddie laughed a bit forced at the joke. Really, his attention fell directly to Steve's ass and the tights he was wearing. Yeah... not fitting a wallet in those, too tight. Skin tight. Lord....

Steve turned down the hall as they got to the top of the stairs; Eddie felt meek as he followed, watching as Steve opened one of the doors and stepped in. Eddie lingered before going in after Steve, taking in the space. It wasn't a very big room, and the walls were a boring off white without much personality anywhere. The furniture was sleek and modern, and it was tidy despite it looking lived in. The only hint of Steve Eddie could see in the space were the trophies and ribbons displayed on one of the bookshelves in the corner.

Eddie felt his skin crawl as he stood there, watching Steve go to his desk and struggle with his drawer.

"Shit–" he muttered, the bottle in his hand bumping up against the desk. He lifted his hand to his mouth, biting at the tape until Eddie eventually snorted and walked over. Really, despite being such a cool guy, Steve was a dork sometimes. Maybe he was just drunk, but there was something unquestionably dorky about him.

"Here," Eddie offered, putting his case of beer down on the desk and taking Steve's hand. He struggled for a moment, trying to find the end of the tape before starting to unravel him.

"You guys are idiots for doing this, what if you have to piss?" Eddie joked, the sound of the ripping tape filling the room.

"Didn't think about it," Steve admitted, not struggling at all as Eddie pulled the tape off, "probably would have been a disaster."

"Yeah," Eddie replied sarcastically, getting to the bottom layer of tape and looking at it stuck to Steve's skin, "did you at least shave?"

"Shave?" Steve asked, confused by the question. Eddie tisked, and lifted Steve's hand up for him to see.

"Your arm, dumbass. Taking this tape off is going to hurt like a bitch. It's going to stick to your arm hair," he explained, shaking Steve's arm a bit and earning a laugh for the action. Steve was pretty drunk it seemed, but Eddie hadn't been able to tell how much alcohol was in that bottle when he had started.

"Just be careful," Steve explained, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

"Oh, just be careful," Eddie repeated in a mocking tone as he started to pull the tape off slowly, trying not to make it hurt too much.

Steve cringed, but stayed still, eventually hissing and causing Eddie to click his tongue at him.

"Baby," Eddie teased, his focus on Steve's arm as he peeled the last of the adhesive off.

He sighed as he wadded the tape a bit and stuck it to the bottle Steve was still holding before looking up at him.

Eddie's stomach dropped as he looked up at Steve who was just... staring at him. He looked a little distant, but he wasn't unfocused, drunk but not blasted. He also looked incredibly dashing with his perfectly quaffed hair and his stupid poet's shirt open just enough at the top that Eddie could see a hint of chest hair.

Eddie swallowed and then turned his head, laughing awkwardly and hoping Steve was drunk enough not to remember this. Eddie opened his mouth to speak, ready to say something stupid to make the conversation continue. _There, you're free, so about that thirty dollars, or I gotta go, I think my house is on fire, anything to make the moment end.

"I uh," Steve started saying as he shifted and put the bottle down on the desk beside Eddie's beers, "I think I prefer babe."

Eddie froze, confusion washing over him as he turned back to look at Steve who shifted to place his hands on either side of the desk behind Eddie, effectively boxing him in. He stared in wild shock and awe as Steve leaned towards him, close enough to touch but still respectfully distant.

I think I prefer babe. The line bounced around in Eddie's head as he tried to figure out what it meant and what the hell was going on. His brain wasn't working and he was just staring at Steve as if he had sprung a second head.

"W-what?" Eddie asked, swallowing as he put his hands on the desk as well, leaning back a bit to increase the distance between himself and Steve. He could feel his butt pressing into the lip of the desk, nowhere really to go, but not panicking from being 'trapped.' No, that wasn't bothering him at all. What was bothering him was how close Steve was and the expression on his face. He had dropped that charming, soft smile, the open friendliness he seemed to display with everyone, and instead, there was a gentle determination there. Not intimidating, but fixated, as if he was being serious.

"Babe," Steve repeated, close enough that Eddie could smell the Triple Sec on his breath. Oh, Steve was very drunk. He had to think Eddie was someone else right now.

"Alright, Steve..." Eddie replied, locking his feelings away once more as he reached up to pat Steve's shoulder. "You're drunk, man."

Steve seemed to waver before dropping his head to the side and looking down. He didn't move his hands away from the desk, still keeping Eddie where he was.

"Shit..." he mumbled and Eddie smiled a bit sympathetically. He'd seen a bathroom walking in here, maybe he'd grab Steve some water and make him sit down.

"It's okay, big guy–" Eddie started to say, patting Steve's shoulder again, wanting to keep this friendly. But Steve let out a bark of a laugh that caught Eddie off guard. He jumped a bit, watching as Steve stared at the floor. He looked almost... sad.

Silence drew out between them and Eddie tried to breathe even to help his heart from pounding out of his chest. Steve was drunk. He was drunk and high and probably past his limit. At least they were already in his room so Eddie could get him to lie down.

Slowly Steve pulled back, removing his hand and wiping his palm over his face. He was still pointedly not looking at Eddie and that made Eddie feel off.

"You... okay?" Eddie asked, wondering if Steve was far gone enough that he needed to go get a bin for him to puke into.

"Great–" Steve replied, his tone a bit clipped. Eddie swallowed thickly at that, feeling his hackles raise a bit. He had no idea what kind of drunk Steve was, and he quietly hoped he wasn't a mean drunk. What if Steve ended up wanting to pick a fight or something? Well, Eddie would leave his shoes behind if he had to run out of here....

Eddie watched as Steve put his hands on his hips and turned away from him, just breathing for a moment as the filtered sound of music came in from the hallway. Maybe Eddie should just leave. Maybe he should go find one of Steve's friends and tell them to check up on him. This wasn't really Eddie's realm of expertise.

"Okay, well..." Eddie started, pushing away from the desk, moving slowly as he started towards the door, "I guess I'll just... head out."

Steve turned and looked at him then, looking pained before he frowned deeply at Eddie.

"No, it's okay. Sorry, I'm sorry, it's alright. You don't have to leave."

The words had been rushed and they sounded extremely apologetic, but Eddie had no clue what he was apologizing for. He was a bit taken aback actually, offering a weak smile in response.

"It's okay, man..." Eddie tried, glancing at his beers on the desk and wondering if he should grab them, "everyone gets drunk sometimes. It's not a big deal."

Steve huffed at that, chewing his bottom lip and looking away again.

"No, I'm... I shouldn't have done that, sorry," he repeated and Eddie stared at him, his own alcohol and weed-riddled brain trying to make head or tails of this conversation. He didn't say anything which only seemed to spur Steve on to speak more.

"Sorry, man–God, that was super fucking creepy, huh? Shit, uh, I'm really sorry. Like... uh, trapping you like that," he sounded properly bothered, his voice wavering a little which didn't make sense to Eddie. For trapping him? For trapping him where? At the party?

"What?" Eddie asked, speaking quietly, swallowing again. Who did Steve think he was right now? Why hadn't he left yet?

"I just thought..." Steve offered, laughing bitterly in a way that sent a chill down Eddie's spine. It sounded so forlorn... it sounded like Steve was impossibly disappointed.

What did Steve think? Who did he think Eddie was? Eddie wanted to know, he wanted to know for maybe no other reason than to torture himself. What lucky bastard had Steve mistaken him for?

"Nothing, it's fine," Steve finished and Eddie frowned. He had done the same thing when Eddie had asked him about his parents. He had started to say something and then shut down when he started to communicate real emotions. Closing off and acting as if he was a bother.

"It's not a problem," Eddie offered after a long silence, not sure why he was still there. He really should go. "You can say what you need to say."

That weird calm was coming over him again, replacing his anxiety as he watched Steve. He didn't exactly feel superior this time, but he was disconnected. Something about this was letting Eddie bury his feelings for Steve and his need for him to like him. Steve was upset and the very least Eddie could do was listen to him. To let his drunk emotions out even if they hurt to hear.

Steve wavered though, finally looking at him again with those sad eyes. He laughed bitterly, this one much quieter than that last.

"That's kind of mean... Eddie," Steve replied, smiling but the motion was obviously fake. He didn't know what Steve meant though. How was he being mean? Was it really such a bad thing to let him talk?

"I don't mean it... meanly," Eddie tried, at the very least wanting to leave here with Steve knowing he hadn't intended to be cruel.

"What then?" Steve asked, his tone a bit tighter, but nonetheless sad, "how else am I supposed to take it? Making me... say it. For your amusement or something?"

Eddie felt his hackles go up again, shame pouring into him at being called out like that. He had been curious and this was Steve's business, he had just been asking out of morbid curiosity. What a shit thing to do.

Eddie flushed deeply, wrapping his arms around his torso and turning away. He felt horribly on the spot all of a sudden, ashamed to have asked and even come here.

"Whatever, man," Eddie mumbled in reply, walking over to the desk and grabbing the case of beer, "can I at least get my thirty bucks?"

He wasn't looking at Steve as he kept his head down, walking close enough to him so he could stick his hand out towards Steve. There was another long pause and Eddie looked up at Steve, making sure he looked annoyed instead of embarrassed. But Steve was just staring at him, brows pinched in as if the loose gears in his head were turning.

"What?" Eddie asked, his temper short as the shame roiled in him. Was he being made fun of now for asking for his money? For thinking he was going to get paid? He was just getting ripped off now or what? Or was he being teased for caring about 30 bucks?

"Eddie," Steve started, turning properly to look at Eddie which made Eddie shrink away a bit, "what are we talking about?"

The question wasn't funny or even hinting at faux disbelief, there was something genuine there that threw Eddie off a bit. What were they talking about? How was he supposed to answer that? What did that mean?

"I-I don't know, man," Eddie offered, taking half a step back, feeling that emotional whiplash plow into him as confusion roiled with his frustration and shame. "You're drunk and rambling about... I don't fucking know."

Eddie felt the flush enter his cheeks this time, looking away from Steve as he dropped his hand. Maybe he should just cut his losses and miss out on the 30 bucks... even if 30 bucks wasn't anything to sniff at in the Munson household.

"What..." Steve tried, sounding completely off his game, verbally puzzling through what was going on, "I was... I was apologizing to you."

"Yeah... I get that," Eddie replied, frowning deeply, still not following.

"Because I... because I came on to you," Steve continued, making Eddie flush deeper. He felt so lost and so emotional. Maybe it was the booze or the weed or something, but Steve saying it like that as if he was going to make a big joke of it all felt horrible. Like he was about to say because I thought you were this chick I like or something like that. Make Eddie hear the humorous disappointment of discovering he wasn't someone else.

"Okay..." Eddie replied defensively, looking away again, "so what?"

"So what...." Steve repeated slowly, sounding more than a little confused, "so what?"

Eddie didn't say anything to that, feeling annoyed more than anything now. He should just leave.

"So–Eddie, I–... do you not want an apology? I'd like to try and stay friends–”

It was Eddie's turn this time to laugh bitterly, gripping his hands into fists.

"Friends? Are we friends?"

It had been a harsh response, but Eddie couldn't help it as he looked back at Steve with fierce determination. What the hell was he doing here? Why had he come to this party? He didn't fit into this world, or Steve's perfectly clean bedroom, his jock life, friend group, Pride Club–those weren't Eddie's spaces. Who were they kidding? They weren't friends. The only thing they had in common was that they were both guys that liked dick.

Still, his response had Steve looking like he had just been slapped, which gave Eddie a sense of accomplishment. It was an ugly, bitter side of him that felt bad to dwell in despite how it swelled his courage right now.

Steve obviously didn't know what to say to that, his brows pinching in again as he stood up straighter, looking much more defensive all of a sudden.

"I guess not..." he replied cooly which made Eddie's throat close up a bit. He had never seen Steve act this way before and it felt bad to be on the receiving end of it.

"Sorry for assuming."

Eddie swallowed, hurt shaking his anger loose as he cruelly felt tears starting to prick his eyes. Fuck–why was he a cryer? Why when he got emotional in any way–anger or otherwise–did his body make him cry?

Eddie hastily wiped at his cheeks, seeing his hands coming away black from the eyeliner. Fuck. There was no way he was hiding the fact that he was crying.

"Yeah, me too," Eddie replied bitterly, still wiping his cheeks. What was the fastest way out of here? The best way to get out of Steve's place without a dozen people seeing that he had been crying?

Suddenly, that didn't matter anymore as Eddie's flight instinct kicked in and he stormed out of Steve's room. If he just moved fast enough, maybe he'd be fine.

He hustled down Steve's stairs to the front door, scooping his boots up without putting them on and running into his front yard. His socks instantly got wet from the moisture in the grass, but that didn't stop Eddie as he all but sprinted down the block. There were people out in the streets still, but it was dark enough Eddie hoped they couldn't really tell who he was.

He managed to stop and pull his boots on, the wet fabric feeling disguising against his feet but better than staying here. He didn't bother taking the long way home, instead ducking towards someone's house and gracelessly climbing over their fence into their yard. One of his beer bottles slipped out of the case and smashed on the ground, causing a racket. But Eddie didn't stop to even curse at his luck, he was already jogging through this person's yard towards the tree line so he could disappear into the night. All he wanted was to crawl into his shit bed, in his shit trailer, and drown in his shit life to try and forget about Steve Harrington's shit party.

PT5

#me 🤝 the Duffer brothers breaking Steve's heart on Halloween #to the ppl who wanted Robin to intervene in my Tooth and Nail foc #I'm probably going to do that here instead #my_writing #my writing #steddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve harrington

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