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smok3r7 · 2 months

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They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Eye Catching

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My Ao3

Series Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: It’s your Freshman year at George Washington College and you’re determined on getting your doctorate in criminology. Little did you know the handsome man you sit next to in your first lecture, Psychology 101, will have you feeling things you haven’t in years.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: anxiety, self esteem issues at first

*a quick little cameo from Professor Joel Miller ;) idea from Chloe with her Seeking series with her cameo of Father Lawrence and @merz-8 with the idea of him being the professor*

—

“Bye Mama, love you!”

“Bye baby, you go rock this shit!”

Your eyes start to well with tears as you back out of the long paved driveway, where your mom stands by the garage door hugging herself, trying her damned best not to break down while she slowly waves to you. When you reach the road and put your truck in drive, you turn your head to look at your beautiful mother one more time as you blow her a kiss. You wait for her to return the gesture before you push your right foot on the gas pedal and you focus your attention on the road in front of you.

Just a four hour drive, all I gotta do, you whisper to yourself as you turn onto the main road that leads to the freeway. You’ve lived just outside of Roanoke, Virginia, with just your mom ever since you were a toddler, and you have no memories of your father or any other family members. He left as soon as he was informed about the pregnancy and all your mom has told you about her family is, well-

“They just let too much shit slide. No one’s ever been held accountable for anything they’ve done. I had to leave, to save you. That’s all I cared about; saving you from their disgusting behavior.”

You have never asked her for further details, gathering on your own that her family, your family, were inhumane and cruel. So you just left it at that, which you really are okay with, at the end of the day. Your mother has been the only family to consistently cheer you on for whatever you do, pushing you to become the smart, strong, and independent young woman you are today. She’s all I need.

—

It’s late August, just on the cusp of September of 1987, and the road trip to Washington D.C is beautiful. The trees are just starting to turn from the bright greens to the light oranges and reds. It’s just amazing to be able to witness the change in seasons. You start to realize that the rest of Virginia isn’t much different than home, which brings you a sense of comfort and calmness.

You love living in Roanoke, it’s so cozy and peaceful, and now that you’re not going to be there anymore, it scares you. The fear of not being familiar with your surroundings is heavy on your mind and heart, since you’ve lived in the same environment and home for twenty-one years.

Even with all that in mind, you’re still extremely excited to start fresh. You’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about Washington D.C - the scenery and structures are breathtaking, and the history of it all enraptures you. But what you’re really looking forward to is the college life; the learning environment, the gratification from being able to move forward in your career, the range of different people, the parties, and who knows - maybe a little fling here and there. Overall, it’s all very intriguing and an electrifying experience that you cannot wait to begin.

In June, you celebrated your twenty-first birthday and that was the day you decided to take your career seriously. Ever since you were a pre-teen and got a chance to talk to an actual FBI agent, who was a woman - insane, right? - in your eighth grade class, you dreamed about becoming a part of the BAU at Quantico. You’ve had a fascination with crime for as long as you can remember, but also, you get this overwhelming sense of satisfaction when you’re able to help others. So no matter the circumstances it takes to get there, you will be able to make it.

You’ve been on the road for about three and a half hours now, stopping to fill up your tank before you hit the city where it’ll cost more. Gotta be smart. When you climb back into your truck, you grab the map that’s on your leather passenger seat and take one more look at it. Your mom insisted on marking the backroads way after a certain time on the freeway to get there with a red sharpie, and honestly, you’re glad she did because otherwise you’d be fucked.

“Just gotta take Fruit Ridge for another ten miles, then take a right on 28th St. ‘n I’m downtown. Perfect,” You tell yourself as you drag your index finger along the red line that leads to your destination. Thank you mama, setting the map down, you put your truck in drive and you’re on your way once again.

The warm summer breeze flows through the open windows of your truck, drying the sweat that’s appeared on your skin, the fresh air rushing up your nose with undertones of country life. The drive has been nothing but sunshine and peace, no one tailing you and no one being an ass in front of you - pretty much just you and a couple cars here and there.

You only have about two miles until you hit 28th St. and the anticipation is starting to hit you. The adrenaline is coursing through your body.

Am I really ready for this?

Can I do this without my mom?

Yes, I can do this by myself, I got this.

Your mind won’t stop racing like the cars and trucks that fly past you, going the other direction, away from the city. You’re starting to get cold feet as you get closer and closer. But, you’ve already made it this far, I can’t back out now.

As you take a deep breath in and out, the back of your head leans back onto the headrest when you notice the large green sign on your right side. You raise your head forward so you can read it clearly.

George Washington College 3 Miles, with a white arrow pointing East.

A soft smile takes over the worried expression you had a minute ago, and you turn onto 28th St., where the scenery changes instantly. Smaller homes and apartments on either side of the road, and people spread all over the yards and sidewalks, unlike the trees and farms that you drove past. A sense of security comes over you, I made it.

Now feeling calm and put together, you can enjoy the last bit of the ride there. With your right hand on the steering wheel and your left arm hanging out the window, the sound of the radio escapes from your vehicle along with the rumble of your engine.

“You’re listenin’ to Classic Hits FM with Doug n’ Carrie. N’ that was The Whispers with their hit, Rock Steady. One of my favorites, what ‘bout you Carrie?”

“I mean how can it not be? But this next one is my all-time favorite right now, can you take a guess at who?”

“Lemme guess, somethin’ by Fleetwood Mac?”

“The one and only Fleetwood Mac, you’re right Doug! My girl Stevie Nicks, the white witch. God I love her! Here’s Seven Wonders, their most recent single that’s been at number one for the last month!”

So Long ago,

Certain place, certain times

You touched my hand on the way, on the way to Emmeline

But if our paths never cross

Well, you know I’m sorry, but

If I live to see the Seven Wonders…

“I’ll make a path to the rainbows end! I’ll never live to match the beauty again, the rainbow's edge.” You sing with a smile large enough to be seen from the sidewalk where a range of people walk up and down.

The beautiful view of the pale brick pillars that hold the black metal gate in between them reads, Professors Gate on the top. I made it.

—

“Knock knock!”

You spin your body around to face the door and your face lights up at the sight of the shorter young lady in front of you.

“Bella! Oh my god!” You yell and run towards her with open arms, “What are you doing here?” You wrap your arms around her, as she does the same. The dorm room fills with laughs and mumbles of words from the both of you.

“I wanted to surprise you, and it worked!” She says into your shoulder as the two of you rock side to side, still holding each other.

“Hell yeah it did!” You step away from her and then the realization hits you, “Wait, is this your dorm?” Your arms wave around to show you meant the room you two are standing in. All she does is nod her head with a huge grin showing off her pearly white teeth, oh my god, no way, you screech again.

You and Bella met in fourth grade and have been best friends ever since. She too only lives and speaks with her mom, and it’s kind of scary to know that someone else has lived your life - but it’s also relieving in a way because you’re not alone, and you can talk about your feelings without feeling judged.

“Criminol-“

“-logy, yes!”

She finishes your question before you can even ask it, something the two of you do subconsciously at this point. Which fits because the two of you are like twins, not identical but the way your minds work together us incredible, and the two of you also share the same birthday, June eleventh, nineteen sixty-six.

The two of you unpack and begin to make the dorm into a comfortable space for the both of you. You and Bella ramble on and on about the drive here and how sad you both felt for leaving your moms at home by themselves. She traveled here about a month earlier than you, her boyfriend needed help moving his things into his apartment - he too is attending Washington College. But you and her knew that this was the best decision, neither of you could stay in Roanoke any longer.

After you both are happy with your sides of the room, it’s about eight at night, the sun has just about set, creating a beautiful pink and orange sky. The two of you kept getting distracted by certain items one of you found while unpacking or just by simple conversation, hence why it took so long.

“Wanna get takeout and watch Dirty Dancing?” You ask Bella as you plop down on your twin sized mattress that’s covered by a sage green blanket. Her face lights up, “What kinda question is that? Of course I do, Domino’s?”

You cock your head to the side and give her an are you really asking? kind of look and she just laughs as she stands from her bed and walks towards the phone that’s on the table on the other side of the room. She picks up the red telephone and dials Domino’s number that you both know by heart, but you realize that you’re not at home, so she must’ve ordered from the one around here in the time she’s been here.

“Hi! Order for pick-up please,” Bella chimes as she wraps the cord around her fingers and sits on the table next to the matching cherry red base. “Bella works, um, I would like-“

She goes on to list her pizza order and your garlic bread balls with chicken wings without any hesitation. After so many years of being friends you know each other's orders like the back of your hands.

“Twenty minutes? Awesome, thank you!” She hangs up the red phone with a click, and hops off the table, “Get dressed, we’re gonna walk. There’s too much traffic to drive there n’ back.”

“So you know where we’re goin?”

“Duh, it’s been my favorite place to get food since I’ve been out here. Now c’mon!”

Okay okay, you concede, shaking your head and laughing as you grab a thin gray hoodie and slip it over your head, then grabbing your black and white Nike air forces and slipping them on. C’mon, Bella drags out with a whine as she stands in the doorway holding the door open, you’re standing in front of the long mirror by your bed just making sure you don’t look too crazy you’re first time out in public in the new city.

“God, you’re so impatient.”

“You should be concerned the day that I’m not, that’s when you know something’s wrong!”

You both laugh as you make your way down the dorm hallway and out into the beautiful summer night air to go pick up your delicious food. When you reach the courtyard, you observe clusters of people spread across the grass. One group of women and men are sitting in a circle, one man has an acoustic guitar and looks like the group is just listening and watching his technique.

Another group of men are sitting on the wood picnic tables as they gaze at the courtyard, much like you are, but they’re whistling and hollering at girls who walk by their table. Not surprised. Then there’s one other group, which looks to be mainly women with a few men scattered and they have a boombox next to their picnic table as they start a dance routine, it looks like they’re practicing for something.

“That’s the dance team, I think we should join,” Bella interrupts your observation, causing you to think back to middle and high school. You and Bella were captains of the dance team for five years, it was one of the main reasons you guys are as close as you are.

As you exit the courtyard and start on the sidewalk, put your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie and turn your face to look at her for a second before you answer. “Maybe, just maybe.”

—

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

Ughhh, you groan rolling over and slamming your hand on the boxy alarm clock on your bedside table as you sit yourself up, raising your arms to stretch your limbs and yawing from exhaustion. After a moment you turn your attention to Bella’s bed and notice that she’s not there. Confusion takes over your sleepy mind. Where the hell did she go?

You gain enough strength in your tired body to hop off your bed and walk over to the table that holds the telephone, where a yellow sticky note lays on it.

Morning sleepyhead!! My first class starts at 7, I’ll be back around noon! I hope your first class goes well baby, love you!! <3 Bella

You smile at her note and stick it next to the red base of the phone. You turn around and look at the clock, 8:40 AM. Okay, I have forty-five minutes to get there. You shake yourself to wake up fully and you begin to pick out of your brown dresser, a pair of jean shorts and a black, thick strapped tank-top, with your classic black and white Nike shoes. Then sitting criss-cross on the floor in front of the mirror, you do your hair and makeup for the day.

After finishing everything, you glance back at the clock and it reads 9:08 AM. Shit, you mutter, swiftly grabbing your black Jansport backpack that’s filled with notebooks and utensils for class, and your schedule with your professors and lectures on it. Then you're out the door, down the same hallway from last night, but instead of going out to the courtyard, you continue down the hall towards the classrooms.

Psychology 101, 101, you repeat as you search the hall for the door that reads the lecture number. After passing about five classrooms, you finally find the right one. The silver plaque on the wood door reads, Psychology 101, Doctor Joel Miller. You glance down at your watch and relax your shoulders when you notice you’re early by just about ten minutes, so you don’t have to rush or worry about being late.

Might as well go in now and get my seat, you think as you reach your hand on the silver handle and gently pull the door towards you. When you open it, the first thing you observe is who you can assume is the professor writing something on the chalkboard. You can't believe that he is your professor. His cream button up shirt is tight around his biceps and chest, but loose around his lower abdomen where the bottom is tucked into his khaki pants. His brown, loosely curled hair is combed to look nice and not messy. His thick beard to match has you feeling like a child with a stupid crush.

His attention turns to you and he smiles, his round glasses fall a bit down his nose as he tilts his head forward to take you in. Wow, he’s hot.

“Hi, I’m here for your class,” you chime, walking into the large room and turning your head to the left to observe the seats and to your surprise it’s about half full, turning your attention back to him, “thought I would come a bit early.”

“That’s a good idea, I admire the dedication. Don’t let it fade away, darlin’, okay? But, your name is?” Dr. Miller steps away from the board and meets you halfway to greet you. You firmly shake his hand and share your first and last name. Well welcome to Psych. 101, dear, he tells you and winks when he lets your hand go.

Thank you, sir, you smile and turn to head towards the stairs on the edge of the room, so you can claim a seat. You observe the other students here, a couple pairs of friends scattered throughout the seats just talking away, and then the loners, you guess you could call them. But the person who catches your full attention is the man who can’t be much older than you, sitting alone in the second row at the top. He has this longer black hair sort of combed back, but not insanely gelled, with his round thin glasses, and a facial structure that’s sharp and soft at the same time.

Holy shit.

You’ve never been shy to men, you actually tend to be more confident than most, usually making the first move. It’s just something your mom and Bella have instilled in you throughout the years. So you decide to take a shot with this handsome young man in front of you.

“Is this seat taken?”

The intelligent looking man picks his head up from his desk to look at you a few feet away from him, pointing at the chair next to his. He takes a second before he answers, “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Perfect. Thought I’d keep you company up here. Ya know, since you’re all by yourself ‘n all,” you slightly tease with a smirk as you slide your bag off of your right shoulder and set it on the carpeted floor next to the wooden chair.

He chuckles watching you sit down in the seat only a mere three feet away from him, “Oh, did you now?”

“Yes, sir. So, are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to pry that information outta you too?” You laugh as you put your right elbow on the long table in front of you and rest your cheek in the palm of your hand, looking into his beautiful, cognac colored eyes just waiting for his smooth voice.

“Aaron Hotchner, and yours?”

“That was easier than I thought,” you joke before you repeat your name once again, which you feel like you’ll be doing a lot these next couple weeks. You carefully watch his expressions and listen to the inflictions in his voice when he does speak.

He smiles and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms gently as he replies, “That’s surely a beautiful name. May I ask where you’re from? Your accent isn’t from here.”

“Roanoke, Virginia, born and raised. What about you, Aaron?”

��Aah, that’s it, I should’ve guessed. Manassas actually, not too far from here. Just about a two and a half hour drive, depending on the traffic.”

“Wait,” you start before sitting up and leaning your other arm on the back of the chair and using your hands to talk, “so you’re telling me, you’ve lived in Virginia your whole life right?”

Aaron nods his head with a slight smirk on his face, watching you trying to put the pieces together.

“But you don’t have any kinda accent? Like, just none whatsoever?” Your voice raises a bit towards the end of your question, just because you’re genuinely curious on how this man doesn’t have any sort of accent or country twang to it at all.

“That’s right-“

Before Aaron can fully answer your question, he gets interrupted by Dr. Miller, “Welcome to Psychology 101, my dear students. I am Doctor Joel Miller and I will be your professor for this class.”

You and Aaron quickly stop your conversation and focus on Dr. Miller who’s introducing the course to everyone. You were so caught up in conversation that you didn’t even notice the seats that were empty, are now full. After a minute, out of the corner of your left eye you watch as Aaron slides a small piece of paper over to you. Without looking at him, you grab the note and look at it.

My phone number, 202-896-0089 ;)

You fold up the paper and put it in your back pocket. Quickly, you glance over to Aaron and you notice he has this cocky smirk that fades just as fast as it appeared. Your stomach is flipping with joy and anticipation, you wonder what this could turn into. Turning your full attention to the front of the classroom, the eye candy of a professor, Dr. Miller is back by the chalkboard, going over the syllabus for the class.

#aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #they always come back

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ilylovelyz · 11 months

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sunday morning

pair : levi x fem!reader

warning(s): major aot spoliers, pregnancy, children, timeskip!levi, just lots of love, reader is insecure abt her postpartum body, a little suggestive, mentions of church, reader and levi have a bit of an age gap (just like 3/4 years), reader is taller than levi by like 4/5 inches

note : i am just having baby fever T.T

the breeze feels good today.

it's a bright sunday morning. he never really liked sunday. he never understood the meaning of a "sunday morning." y'know, the ones where you go to church, go out to breakfast with your family, or just simply relax and sleep into the afternoon.

no, he never got that. instead, he had his sumday full of paperwork, training, or heavy cleaning. it's not like it was unexpected. he was a high-ranked soldier in the survey corps. he didn't expect anything from an already high-risk, practically 24/7 job.

so now, he feels... off. theres no paperwork to fill out. no training he needs to do. he can clean, but theres not much to clean anymore.

you could say he feels relieved. the titans are gone. everyone could finally relax without having the fear of their walls being blasted through. even better, he can relax with his wife, y/n.

he's still new to his "lifestyle." he's not used to this thing "relaxation." the windows are open, linen curtains flowing with the soft breeze. it's a good june day, neither too hot nor cold.

he's sweeping the already clean floors, wondering on what to do for the next few hours. he desperately wants to "relax" but he just doesn't know how. he sighs in distress, wiping the back of his palm on his forehead.

like clockwork, he hears the cry of a baby. his baby. setting aside the broom to stand on the nearest wall, he walks towards the nursery, painted in soft colors. he stands in the doorway for a few seconds, soaking in the lovely sight in front of him.

the baby was already soothed by his wife, who was already coddling and cooing at it with such love and adoration. "my, you have such cute fingers~" you whisper, fondling the baby's plushie fingers with your own.

"it's so bright," he thinks. today just seems so... perfect. he is still expecting something to terribly go wrong, somehow, someday. he inhales the scene in front of him, trying to burn the image into his memory forever.

you two have been together for many years, dating back to around the time when eren had finally sealed the holes in the walls. you and levi had been through a lot, and you've both seen a lot together. that in turn only made the bond between the two of you stronger and closer.

you remember the day he promised to marry you - when he was almost fatally wounded by the beast titan and had a moment of clarity did he decide that he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. so, following the extermination of the titans, the two of you happily married.

it's astonishing how much time has passed since then, even though it's barely been a year. in that year, even despite your age (mid 30s), you fell pregnant following a few months of the wedding. you were absolutely joyful at the news. levi was too. although he didn't immediately lift you into his arms like every other "normal" guy would, his mind was racing a million thoughts per second.

on the outside, they were all sorta displeased at his lack of emotion. on the inside however, he thought his heart was going to explode due to how it felt so heavy with love, yearning, and relief. god, it was his dream to live a happy life, and now he finally has it (at the expense of his eye, fingers, and almost his entire ability to walk). he couldn't be any happier.

stepping out of his mind, he takes a few limpy steps towards you. you notice, turning around and giving him that loving smile of yours. "pretty day 'nnit?" you say. it wasn't much of a question. he replied with a soft hum, not taking his eyes off his firstborn, his son. it's crazy how much time has passed in a blink of an eye.

he remembers just as clear as day when you first told him you were carrying his child, and now his child is just a few measly weeks old. "lev, would you say he looks a lil' like you?" you tease. the baby was awake, little arms flailing and wiggling, reaching for nothing in particular.

he paid a little more attention to the baby. he was surprised at the sudden realization the resemblance the baby already has to him. black hair, little round blueish-gray eyes.. a stink face. "he's ugly like you." you tease. "how wonderful."

"yeah, luckily he'll grow up with great features." he resorts, a light smirk growing across his features. "if he grows up at all.." you giggle. he's a bit peeved that the baby looks like him, rather wishing he looked like his dashing mother instead. "i would rather he's like you though. i don't want him to be mistaken as a short asshole," he admits. "i mean, the brat isn't even half a year old and he already gives me looks."

you giggle at his comments. "i don't think he should be like me," you reply, getting up slowly and placing the now-sleepy baby into his bassinet. "i don't want him to look all nasty like me." you say, addressing your postpartum body.

even during your pregnancy, levi had noticed that you became obsessive with how your body had looked. he noticed the way you had negatively looked at yourself, and it just made him so angry at you. you looked absolutely lovely to him. "there's nothing wrong with your body, anyone who says so is an uneducated idiot with no common sense." he replied, bringing his hands to wrap around your waist.

"you're just saying that because you're biased." you sigh. "no, i'm saying that because it's true. i think you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen, and you still are," he whispers, placing a chaste kiss onto your cheek. why would it be fair to judge you based on appearance? you love him even though he's missing like 3 fingers, face and body scared up. hell, he can barely walk anymore.

his hands squeeze at the plush skin there teasingly, earning a surprised and flustered reply of dismay from you. you tried to break away from his grasp, only for him to wrap his arms around you even tighter. bringing one hand down to grab your ass, he attaches his lips to your neck. "i love you." he whispers.

you sigh in relief as a reply. you hope you didn't wake the baby when he unexpectedly hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you into the shared bedroom you have with him.

it is a good sunday.

#aot x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #levi attack on titan angst

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animeomegas · 9 months

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okay so i plan on posting this to my own omegaverse sideblog (@my-omegaverse-academia) but i originally typed it in this ask box and it got a bit out of hand lmao

personally, i think omega bakugou is a boy dad and they love him so much. katsuki's never really cared about the gender of his kids, but the boys are so much like him that he's able to be the best father he can be.

omega kirishima however, is a girl dad. he's having a squad of like five daughters and he loves them all! he's totally fine with making them manly women, showing the virtues of being a girl and a feminist like he totally is.

omega deku has one of each i think. boy then girl. they're separated a bit, as to not impact his career too much, but he loves both of them, even though people spread rumors on how he had two quirkless children, which makes him go into protective omega instincts.

omega denki has a couple of kids and one of them comes out as nonbinary and he's so supportive! he's such a cool dad and he tries to give them the absolute best in regards of gender affirming care and whatnot. and he's shocking every transphobe.

omega iida gives off having several girls, but desperately wanting a little boy like himself and it doesn't happen until his three girls are like teenaged and he's about to hit menopause. he's all but given up hope and then he gets pregnant with a little boy and retires. he still loves his girls, but he doesn't know how to connect to them as well as his son.

omega tamaki gives off having one girl, then a boy. i can't see him having more than two pregnancies, as he values his career. also having so many kids puts attention onto him and he doesn't think he can be a good enough parent to so many children.

omega mirio and you are having a ton of children. he's pregnant like every three years and you have multiples more time than not. he's unintentionally the face of traditional alpha-omega family dynamics, but it's positive with his household because he can so easily juggle his career, kids, and relationship. it's never a struggle and people are so jealous on how he does it so well.

omega todoroki and you don't have children until you all have been mated for like a decade because he says he has never wanted children, even though he more fears the cycle of abuse present in his family. but he always knows that you wanted a kid and he goes through some heavy therapy with you and by himself, agreeing to have a child. you two end up having twin girls that look like him and he loves them to death, even though he's so unsure of himself and how he is as a parent. it does help that they are perfect little angels.

you and omega shigaraki are accidentally getting pregnant and have a son that you try to raise to the best of your ability, even though he's a major villain. though, with the league, it makes things easier.

omega dabi also gets accidentally pregnant, but he leaves villainy because of it and leaves japan all together. you two start a new life in suburbia, helping him get matching skin grafts and taking up new identities. after the birth of your daughter, you have several more children, as you build the family he's always wanted.

Hey! Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me! I agree with some and disagree with others, let me explain~ @rebloggiest-reblogger

Bakugou - I also get strong boy dad energy from him, I always write him with boy twins. I however headcanon him with one son that is just like him and one son that is the opposite of him. I enjoy the idea of him having to protect his opposite son from people like Bakugou used to be. Good angst and an excellent opportunity for a narrative conclusion and growth haha.

Kirishima - Absolutely girl dad vibes!!! Manliness is gender neutral as far as he's concerned!!! And all of his daughters are manly as hell!!!

Midoriya - He can pull off quite a lot of dynamics in my mind, one child, two children, all boys or all girls or one of each. He's a versatile dad for sure :D I think he'd take it very hard if his child(ren) was quirkless, not because of his own feelings of course, but because of the abuse he knows they'll be subjected to.

Denki - In my hc, he's childfree. He's the babysitter other heroes use when they desperately need one last minute, because they know he'll keep the pups alive. Other than that though... bedtimes? what are those? Sugar is fun! Let's go and play in sand! Sure! I'll buy you the toy that makes deafening beeping sounds whenever you touch it!

Iida - He gives off strong one and done vibes for me. But I agree that I see him with a daughter. I don't see him as the type to fixate on wanting a little boy like him, and definitely not enough to keep trying for so long. It makes me sad to think he would do that to his poor daughters. Iida to me screams of someone who isn't a natural parent, but who tries with every ounce of his being to figure it out. He focuses so much on the one child, he forgets that having more is an option?? He does feel sad about not providing his child the sibling bond that he had, but ultimately one is right for him imo.

Tamaki - He's also childfree in my hc. He finds children very overwhelming. He also finds the idea of pregnancy to be pretty awful. He would look so cute pregnant though, so I feel torn sometimes haha.

Mirio - You are so right about Mirio. He has a huge family! I wouldn't say he's the face of traditional alpha/omega dynamics because he's a hero, so he works a lot out of the home. Either his alpha would stay home, or they'd have to rely on childcare of some sort. I can totally imagine him dressing his massive family up in matching clothes for insta pics though skdfjhasdg

Todoroki - I hc him as childfree. I am also hesitant about your description of this situation. There's nothing inherently wrong with the narrative, but it's something that is often pushed onto childfree people/people who say they've never wanted kids. Some people say it's only a trauma response and if they really look into what they want, they'll find that they always wanted children. Obviously that could be true for some people, but I shy away from that portrayal because I think it affirms the idea that childfree people have something about them that is broken. It also pushes the whole, have children if your partner wants them, even if you don't. All children deserve to be as wanted as possible and I think that message can be poorly portrayed in a lot of media. That's not to say you can't hc it! Just that I'm not comfortable with it personally.

Shigaraki - The idea of him having to parent is so interesting. Honestly, I imagine he would keep an accidental pregnancy to trap his alpha. But then he'd realise this is a whole person that has to love him and he loves having a baby, even if it's inconvenient and he doesn't love being a dad all the time.

Dabi - Yes! Best ending for Dabi honestly! I think if he accidentally got pregnant when in a really committed relationship with an alpha that was down to keep the pregnancy, he would do this. If it was a one night stand or a shoddy relationship, he'd be getting an abortion straight away.

Thanks for sending me your thoughts! They were so fun to go through! <3

#asks #hcs #bnha #mha #dabi #a/b/o #omegaverse #shigaraki #todoroki #midoriya #bakugou #kirishima #mirio #tamaki #iida

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

My Future in You | 0.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: allusions to sex (fear not, there will be flashbacks in later chapters), eventual accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in this chapter and a few to come, angst, drama etc etc, enemies to lovers if you wanna call it that, no major warnings in this chapter

…

“Jake,” Had it been a Saturday night? — Yes. Was it critical that they won this game because they had lost the previous two? — Also yes. But Jake had been able to hear that you were crying the moment you said his name. He was standing in the locker room, brows furrowed and one finger plugged into his other ear to try to hear what you were saying. “I need you to help me.”

“Dude, where the fuck are you going?”

Jake shrugs his bag onto his shoulder and shook his head quickly. You might’ve lived an hour away, but you were his little sister and you asked him for help.

“I can’t play, something came up.” Jake shrugs.

Bradley looks up and scrunches his eyebrows. Someone must be dying, because there’s almost nothing that Jake would’ve missed this game for. He’s been talking about it for weeks.

“Are you fucking kidding? — You’re really going to leave your best friends hanging?” Someone calls out. Bradley minds his business, continues readying himself for the game and the inevitable loss. Without Jake there, Elias will make it off the bench for the first time all season — they’re screwed.

“My sister’s in trouble. I’ll be there next time.” Jake calls out as he’s leaving. The locker room door slams behind him.

Bradley looks across to Dustin, their quarterback, and leans in a little closer, “How many sisters does Jake have again?”

“Three.” Dustin answers. Bradley considers this information — maybe what he did isn’t so bad, there are two other Seresin’s that he didn’t hook up with and never talk to again. But then Dustin keeps talking.

“Only one younger sister. She goes to Richmond, they’re super close — she was here for Halloween, I think.”

She was definitely here for Halloween. Bradley regrets wearing an under layer because now he’s sweating.

“Sweet girl.” Dustin’s still talking.

“Can you keep a secret?” Bradley interrupts. He has to tell someone — he needs the confirmation that what he did isn’t that bad. After all, he didn’t know.

Dustin lifts his head to stare dubiously at Bradley, then shrugs his shoulders, “Sure…?”

Bradley glances around him.

“I accidentally hooked up with Jake’s sister. On Halloween.”

“How the fuck do you accidentally—“

Bradley pinches the bridge of his nose. Dustin’s a great quarterback, but he isn’t the brightest.

“No, that part was on purpose,” Bradley sighs, “But I didn’t know that it was her. No one even told me she was visiting. I thought all of Jake’s family were in Texas.”

Dustin presses a hand over his mouth. Bradley jumps as a whistle rings out. The team start moving to head out to the field. Dustin grabs his helmet and gives Bradley a sympathetic look, “You’re so dead.”

You flinch as your front door rattles. Jake bangs on the other side with his fist. Your legs tremble as you push yourself up and walk to the door, pulling the chain off and twisting the handle.

Jake grabs you by your shoulders the minute the door opens. You watch him look you over. Like he’s looking for cuts, bruises, signs of a potentially fatal injury.

“What’s going on? — You said emergency.” In the Seresin household, emergency is an absolute code red. It’s a drop everything and come now type situation. Jake’s somewhat dismayed to find out that you’re totally fine.

He does find it odd that you’re wearing pyjamas on a Saturday night.

Your lip trembles. It’s so much harder to say now that he’s standing in front of you. Jake has always been your biggest supporter. Given that his older sisters were always the bosses around the house, he understood that becoming a big brother was serious — his sisters had always taken great care of him and he had big shoes to fill.

He had always let you hang out with his friends, even if they thought you were too young or didn’t want you around because you were a girl. He had always told you when your outfits were bad, and not even in a mean way, just to save you the embarrassment. He knew you were smarter than him, and had told you this your entire life.

Jake has adored you from the moment he heard about you, and he has always been so proud of his baby sister.

His brows furrow, still holding you by the shoulders as he watches tears brim in your eyes. You throw yourself at his chest, sobbing into the fabric of his black t-shirt.

Jake wraps his arms around you, flooded with worry as he rubs at your back.

“Hey, it’s okay. What happened?”

“I fucked up.” Your face is pressed into his chest, your voice is muffled and you’re crying. Jake can barely make it out. It takes him a few seconds, but he does decipher what you’re saying eventually. He keeps you against him as he steps inside and swings the door shut behind him.

“It can’t be that bad. We’ll figure it out.”

You pull back, cheeks blotchy, “Not that bad?”

Jake’s confused as to how and why he’s being yelled at right now.

You turn and walk over to the coffee table. Jake doesn’t see what you pick up until you turn back and hold it out in front of him, “Not that bad?”

His lips part.

He steps closer and squints. His vision is just fine, he just can’t believe what he’s seeing right now. He looks between you and the pregnancy test in your hand. Jake gasps.

“You’re kidding. This isn’t funny, this is not a funny joke!” Jake scolds you. He sounds like your mother when he does that.

Then, you start crying again. Lip trembling, chest heaving, knees wobbling. He realises that you aren’t just messing with him.

“Shit.” Jake breathes out, he shakes his head in disbelief. His big brother instincts kick in and he reminds himself to comfort you. He might be spiralling himself but he can’t imagine what you must be going through.

He rubs your back, resting his chin on your shoulder until you stop hyperventilating. He looks slowly around the apartment, it’s a standard, off-campus space that you share with three other girls. Your room is the size of a shoe box. Maybe the baby could fit right here, between the couch and the bar cart, under the photo booth pictures of two of your roommates kissing.

“You didn’t even tell me you were dating someone.” Jake complains. You tell him everything. He tells you significantly less but that’s because you had to practically beg him to stop telling you about all of the girls he talks to and inevitably breaks up with.

You pull back and wipe at your eyes. Jake frowns. He doesn’t get why you’re staring at him like that. Oh. There isn’t a boyfriend.

“Do you know who the father is?” Jake whispers, like he’s asking something he shouldn’t.

Of course you know who the father is. You let out a breath and look at the ceiling, nodding dejectedly. Jake’s one rule for visiting him on Halloween was to not sleep with any of his friends. In your defence, you hadn’t realised that the idiot in the Eagles jersey even lived there until he was already inviting you to his room. And he was so cute.

“Is he going to step up?” Jake asks, his face growing stern.

You roll your eyes and almost laugh at the thought of asking Jake’s frat brother to raise a child with you. Jake’s staring at you, still waiting for an answer, taking this conversation extremely seriously.

“He doesn’t know.” You sigh. You only found out yourself two hours ago.

“When are you going to tell him?” Jake presses.

The father. You can’t imagine telling a stranger you met at a halloween party that you’re going to make him a father. The thought makes you nauseous. You certainly can’t stomach the word mother at this moment in time.

“I’m not.”

“What?” Jake chokes. He knows that if this was him, he would want to know. This guy might be a shithead, but Jake figures he probably deserves a chance to know that he got someone pregnant.

“It was a one night stand.”

“Since when do you have one night stands?” Jake demands. He only asks because you constantly make fun of him for being such a commitment-phobe. You press your face into your hands and groan in frustration.

“How would you like me to answer that? - We can either go with, no Jake, it was just once. Or we can go with your sister is hot and gets plenty of action - which would you prefer?” You snap at him. His face creases for a moment, not happy to hear about his little sister’s sexual habits. Then, he shakes his head and moves back into big brother mode.

“I would prefer you to have had protected sex. Protected.” Jake specifies. He’s gesturing with his hands as he speaks. You frown at him.

“We used a condom.” You answer. You really don’t want to provide any more details than are absolutely necessary. Jake pulls a face at this new information.

“You’re the girl, aren’t you on birth control or anything?”

“Hey, this isn’t my fault!” You bite back. It kind of is. You’re too busy to remember to take the pill every morning and your appointment to get an IUD was supposed to be on Thursday. Besides, condoms are supposed to do the job. Ninety-ninety percent effective… bullshit.

Jake opens his mouth to lecture you, then stops. He was about to sound a lot like your dad. He shakes his head.

“Fine. What’s the plan?” Jake asks.

“I guess planned parenthood.”

It’s late by the time that Jake gets home. Like, almost five in the morning, late. He can still hear people giggling at the back of the house, but most of the people inside seem to be already asleep. Jake assumes they lost the game without him considering that the house is relatively clean and people aren’t still up celebrating.

He wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and forget that tonight happened. He still can’t believe that this happened. If it was going to happen to either of you, everyone would have been in agreement that it was more likely to happen to Jake. You’re so smart, things like this just don’t happen to smart people.

Jake really hopes his Mom doesn’t call tomorrow. You’re both in agreement that your parents should never hear about this - they wouldn’t take it well, and Jake hates lying to his Mom. He feels like she can see right through him.

The sound of a door opening makes Jake lift his head as he reaches the top of the stairs. It’s the door opposite his that opens. Bradley’s room.

“So you’ll call me?” The pretty brunette wearing a non-descript men’s t-shirt long enough to hide her shorts, steps out of the room and looks at Bradley. It’s one of the shirts that Bradley won’t miss. Bradley hasn’t yet noticed Jake. She sways on her feet, fidgeting shyly.

“Yeah. Sure.” Bradley leans against the door frame and smiles. He barely even knows her name. He’s fairly sure it begins with an E. If he even got her number tonight, he isn’t going to remember to call it. Bradley knows this, Jake knows this - yet, the girl seems to believe him. “Get home safe.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” She giggles sheepishly. Jake steps out of her way as she turns and heads for the stairs. Bradley smiles as he spots Jake.

Jake isn’t surprised to have come across this situation. It isn’t unusual to spot a girl leaving Bradley’s room early in the morning. He usually makes an excuse about having to do something early in the day. He’s not a fan of girls being there when he wakes up.

Jake finds that weird because morning sex is one of his favourite activities. Bradley also likes morning sex, but finds that girls tend to think they can stick around afterwards, which he isn’t a fan of.

“Hey. You missed it, we won.” Bradley announces, stretching his arms up above his head and resting them on the doorframe. He swears he catches Jake’s eye twitch.

Salt in the wound. Jake nods and congratulates him, then begins towards his own room. He’s hoping to shut his eyes before the sun starts to come up. Bradley understands why Jake isn’t excited, he would be pissed if the team won without him there too. It’s an ego thing.

Bradley decides to change the subject rather than let Jake go to bed on a bad note. There’s only one conversation topic that comes to mind.

“How’s your sister anyway?” Bradley asks more to be polite than out of genuine concern, arms still stretched up above his head. He’s wearing just a pair of gym shorts - makes sense, that girl clearly just took his shirt.

Jake looks at him. Bradley stands still, he mistakes the tired look in his friend’s eye for anger and immediately begins to theorise about apologies. How does someone apologise for sleeping with their friend’s sister, anyway?

“Dude, don’t even ask. She’s in such a mess right now.” Jake shakes his head and waves him off. Bradley sighs in relief and assumes she just got her heart broken or something simple like that. Jake continues to his room. “See you later.”

“Sure. Later.” Bradley agrees. They each shut their doors, with no idea of how drastically each of their lives are about to change.

…

Tag List:

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut

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is-the-owl-video-cute · 1 month

Note

I never thought I'd see toxo/pregnancy mentioned alongside pro-life. Like I understand the brain pathway, don't get me wrong, it just caught me so off guard... As someone who miscarried due to toxoplasmosis, a miscarriage which was riddled with complications that lead to the loss of my uterus on top of it all like some vile prank it's just UGH.

It's been more than six years now. I just wish I could look the "owner" in the eye and tell them how their simple negligence had absolutely shattered my very being. And I wish that I didn't boil and break at any reminders. I haven't learned where to put this anger, yet.

Alongside the anger there's the fear I hold for the sake of others. This shit could happen to anyone but! No one wants to talk about how detrimental their "fur baby" can be to both humans and wildlife. As if it's a personal attack. As if they hold no responsibility as an owner. As if educating yourself on your own pet isn't necessary. As if you're 2 kool 4 skool and caring about the well-being of others is a weakness.

Anyways...

Pro-lifers aren't a crowd that cares about the well-being of others and by lacking this basic capacity, I seriously doubt something pet-related could ever warrant a second glance. Controlling people is the priority, not pets.

(I apologize for how winded this may come across, I have certain tags blacklisted and yeah, a previous post was a shock. I hope this topic will be taken more seriously in the future, and it's certainly not going to happen with pro-liffers)

people laugh it off when I speak about toxo, it’s very poorly researched and we don’t even know if miscarriages are the only major complication. It firms cysts in the brain that completely change the behavior of prey animals, and we have no idea what the implications there are for humans.

Even if miscarriages are the only complication (I doubt this), that isn’t really an “only” because that has horrible effects on real human beings.

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bhaalsdeepbat · 3 months

Text

Unholy Flesh

SFW | AO3 | Baldur’s Gate 3 Word Count: 4,381

Excerpt: It was the killing fate written in the blood of the creatures that sprung from Mercy’s sculpted flesh. The sorcerer flattened their foot against the ground, stilling the rock of the chair. Mercy leaned over in the chair, the nails on their right hand growing unnaturally long and sharp. They ignored the weight of the silver chain wrapped tightly around their wrist as they held their hand out. The tips of two nails pressed against the soft skin of one the throat of one of the sleeping twins. It would have been a mercy to kill them. It would be a mercy to kill them. A/N: This is the next part of Never Love an Anchor. This chapter just establishes more of what's going on and explores the relationship my Durge has with Astarion while otw to leave the hellspawn pups on someone's doorstep. This is a totally self-indulgent au where I wanted to explore nontraditional family structures bc these two idiots are not raising these kids. CW: Accidental Pregnancy, Cryptic Pregnancy, Traumatic Birth, Gore, Blood, General Durge Shit, and they talk about infanticide but,,,,clearly these babies are making it

The evening was calm. The night air provided a cool comfort against Mercy’s warm cheeks as they waited on the cottage porch. The sorcerer was wrapped in their cloak. Dark, loose tendrils of black fabric on the front draped across their shoulders and around their neck, its warm lining soft against their freckled skin. Mercy was perched in a rocking chair, its wood creaking with each push of their dark boot against the ground. Beside the sorcerer, the twins were swaddled in soft blankets, each in a different color to differentiate the little shits. The wrapping was still messy, the blanket tails tucking out where the vampire spawn and the sorcerer gave up trying to figure out the art of swaddling an infant.

It had been two days since the birth, and Mercy was still struggling to comprehend everything that happened. They had no idea they were even pregnant when Mercy had arrived at the cottage with Astarion. It was meant to be a small break to recuperate from the adventuring that occupied a majority of their time together.

What was meant to be a reprieve quickly turned to shit.

The sorcerer hadn’t felt well the day they went into labor. They were exhausted, bone tired, and their stomach churned uncomfortably, but Mercy initially brushed it off as one of the many symptoms plaguing them since their addled mind and broken body were toys the Gods played with, then discarded like trash.

Mercy could never forget the fear of having their body taken from their control, but the years put enough distance for the memory to lose some of its edge. Dulled by time and new memories filling the cracks in their addled mind, the birth of the beasts sharpened the echo of their powerlessness to a point and stabbed them deeply in the gut with a goading twist. As their heart ached with the betrayal of their own body’s failure to warn them, they were reminded that they were always meant to be simply a vassal, never quite in control of their own body, let alone their own future.

The last few years were a taste of true autonomy. Mercy and Astarion had traveled across Faerun, both hungry to see the world once denied to them. They went where they wanted when they wanted, traveling in the cover of darkness without a plan, and without the threat of Bhaal punishing them for straying off his intended path. The couple tried to be heroic, two beasts unleashed, stalking the other monsters of the night who harnessed their own power against the innocent.

However, Astarion and Mercy were also the chaos in the night, causing brawls in the bustling taverns, robbing unsuspecting patriars stumbling drunk through the streets, and generally lying their way into a free room to hide from the sun in. It was a life lived freely, a life the sorcerer was growing used to, putting distance between themself and their past.

Mercy was stupid to think their life would ever be fully free of Bhaal’s influence.

The sorcerer’s blood was quiet, free of the compulsion of their blood whispers, but the same intrusive thoughts accompanied their hard won freedom, a reminder that they were sculpted from divine flesh. Mercy could feel Bhaal’s essence taunting them where it lay dormant in the twins. The sorcerer may have escaped his leash, but not the curse of their unholy flesh. Bhaal rescinded his blood inheritance, but it would seem he still had use for Mercy’s body.

The sorcerer watched the infants slumbering in their makeshift crib. Mercy’s eyes narrowed as they lifted a hand to touch the scar marring the right side of their face. They traced the line from the corner of their eye, dipping beneath the blue iris and curving down across their cheek. They couldn’t remember much from before, but they could remember their own twin sister’s face the night their own Urges first stirred.

Their sister’s necklace - a silver chain holding a ruby the shape of a teardrop - felt heavy where it was wrapped around their right wrist. It was a souvenir from their duel with their sister destined by blood. It was a destiny doomed to repeat, trapping the Bhaalspawn in a vicious cycle of violence and death that would never garner them Bhaal’s favor.

It was the killing fate written in the blood of the creatures that sprung from Mercy’s sculpted flesh.

The sorcerer flattened their foot against the ground, stilling the rock of the chair. Mercy leaned over in the chair, the nails on their right hand growing unnaturally long and sharp. They ignored the weight of the silver chain wrapped tightly around their wrist as they held their hand out. The tips of two nails pressed against the soft skin of one the throat of one of the sleeping twins. It would have been a mercy to kill them.

It would be a mercy to kill them.

Mercy’s jaw clenched as they pulled their hand away, hand returning to normal. They pulled it against their chest, then leaned back in the chair, putting distance between them and the Bhaalspawn.

The memories of the birth were laced with the aroma of life and death, permeating with the heavy scent of blood. Mercy could smell it, as though they were still on the makeshift bed of sheets, bleeding out in front of the dying fire, their wretched brain struggling to stay connected to their suffering body. They were alone.

They were scared.

As they delivered the first child, the sorcerer screamed and sobbed, a choice with their body once more taken from them. It was an anguish momentarily stifled when they had been sure the little girl, a tiefling with a tail just like Mercy’s, had arrived stillborn. The relief was quickly devoured by the pain and surprise of the twin ready to claw her way into the world. The second girl - more Elf than Tiefling - had the sorcerer’s talons, nails distended into hard, unnatural points.

There was so much blood.

A firm hand on their shoulder shook Mercy from the grip of their disconnected memories, forcing them back into the body that had failed them, and back into the moment. The sorcerer tensed, electricity sparking in their hand defensively. Their lips turned down into a snarl as they turned their gaze toward the man now standing beside them.

Astarion’s thick brow arched, but he kept the hand on Mercy’s shoulder. He rubbed it with his thumb, soothing out the tension with the familiarity. The sorcerer slowly lowered their raised hackles, relaxing into the comforting touch. They averted their gaze, the blue electricity around their hand discharging with the flashes of three motes of light.

“What are you doing?” Astarion’s voice was level, lacking any of his usual theatrics and laced with exhaustion. Dark circles darkened his tired, sunken eyes. His eyes were dull, lacking the usual light reflecting from his piercing gaze. His angular face was gaunt, the hard lines etched with equal parts concern and frustration that followed him since he found Mercy half dead on the floor of their home.

Worry knitted Mercy’s brows together, chest tightening with shame. They pursed their lips into a tight line, searching his eyes for any sign of judgment, but all they saw was the reflection of themself. The sorcerer quickly averted their gaze.

Astarion sighed as he ran his hand across their shoulder and down their arm, drawing out the contact before he finally pulled away. “I’m not judging you,” he assured them. “I just know you wouldn't be proud of that choice.”

“Maybe, but we don’t have many other options.” The sorcerer sounded small, their voice deflated to a lower octave.

It was a conversation they had before, one the two found themselves stuck in whenever Mercy found themself spiraling in their self-doubt. Too much innocent blood stained their tainted hands for them to be useful for anything but spilling more blood. Giving life and raising it was not something suitable for hands skilled and trained in the art of murder. Their Urges were gone, but a part of them still found satisfaction in a good hunt, in feeling the life of someone who deserved it fading beneath their hand.

However, there weren’t many options for the newborn Bhaalspawn. Leaving them in the care of another would just spell disaster. The thought was accompanied by the image of their own unsuspecting adoptive parents, the young couple’s blood spilled, bodies savaged by Mercy’s adolescent hand, laid out in offering to a God that would never love them.

“There are options, though,” Astarion cut in, the heel of his boot clicked against the wood of the porch flooring as he circled around the sorcerer, then crouched down in front of them. He took their left hand in his own, holding Mercy tightly when the sorcerer refused to meet his gaze.

For a moment, Mercy let him hold their hand, the two sitting in silence as the sorcerer mulled over his words. “I don’t think you realize how slim our options are,” they finally spoke up, pulling their hand away to rest their arms on the rocking chair’s armrests. They kept their gaze lowered for a moment, then finally lifted their bright irises to meet Astarion’s.

“Please,” Astarion dragged out the word, eyes narrowing as his tone sharpened. “Don’t act like I’m being naive. I was picking through slimmer options before you even graced this planet with your presence, my love,” his voice softened, as did his gaze, as the pet name fell from his lips. “I think you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be right now.”

The sorcerer shrunk beneath the jab. They balled their hands into tight fists and glanced at the sleeping beasties disguised by the innocence of infancy. They remained silent, struggling to put their worries into words. Instead, they turned their wide, uncertain gaze toward Astarion, searching his own for anything to quell the tide of emotions storming inside.

Astarion seemed to understand whatever Mercy left unsaid. He inclined his head, lips pursing as he thought for a moment, then placed his hands on their thighs. He gave the sorcerer a comforting squeeze. “We have a plan. It’s not ideal, but it is a plan.” He paused, eyes glossing over, clearly still distancing himself from whatever fears were making a home in his husk. “Besides. If it doesn’t work out, we can always circle back.”

Mercy watched him closely, still tense, but weighing his words. It was a difficult circumstance he clearly understood, but the hope he had for their flimsy plan had the sorcerer leaning into the comfort he offered. They tugged the sleeves of their cloak down, covering the silver hanging dangerously from their right wrist, before reaching out to cup Astarion's cheeks. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, his cheek cold against the palm of the sorcerer's hand.

He turned his head to kiss the inside of their palm before pushing himself up onto his feet. "I was being honest when I said I think they deserve a chance. I'm not a monster." Astarion offered Mercy his hand. Once the sorcerer took it, he helped them up onto their feet. "I don't want the little beasts…but they're already here. It'd be different if we had some warning and could…nip it in the bud, so to speak."

Mercy found reassurance in the admission. They gave his hand a grateful squeeze, communicating their gratitude silently as the sorcerer turned their gaze towards the infants. "Okay…" They nodded to themself, trying to find the resolve needed to move forward. "We should leave soon, then. I don't want to waste time finding you a place to stay before the sun rises."

Astarion twirled two fingers with a playful flourish over to where their bags were packed and waiting outside the entryway. "I'm ready when you are, my love."

Mercy smiled at that, though it faltered when they spoke. "Do you want to carry them?"

Astarion's own expression went cold. "Respectfully, my dear. No. For once, I would rather carry the bags."

Mercy found themself snickering at him. They covered their mouth with their hand, hiding the smile behind their sleeve. Astarion's own expression seemed to relax as he watched them. The sorcerer found themself clearing their throat, suddenly self-conscious. "Fine. I’ll take…Tail and Talons."

"Tail and- Gods above. They're going to need names," Astarion groaned with annoyance. "Better names. Tail and Talons." He shook his head with faux haughty disapproval as he walked over to their bags and pulled out some fabric to make a wrap with.

"It works. I don't see you coming up with anything better." Mercy shrugged, brow arching with the exasperation seeping into their expression.

“Honestly, it's because I’d rather not,” Astarion cut in with an airy giggle meant to disguise his creeping discomfort.

"Well, I'm not naming them." They crouched down by the basin the infants were in and collected both in their arms, not afraid to disturb the sleeping beasts.

Astarion just chuckled, shaking his head as he held the fabric out and began to help the sorcerer secure the twins to their torso. They were a firm, cold weight against Mercy’s body. The sorcerer grimaced, shifting their weight around on their feet uncomfortably.

Astarion watched Mercy closely, focusing his keen perception on the wrap. Once he was satisfied with how secure the twins were, he folded his arms and turned his attention back to Mercy. A smug, half-smirk tugged at one corner of his lips when he met the sorcerer’s gaze. “Cute,” he quipped.

With a soft huff, Mercy rolled their eyes at him. A soft, rosy flush in their pale, blue cheeks betrayed the sorcerer’s feigned annoyance. Astarion snickered to himself as he moved to collect the two hastily packed bags. He slung one over his back before digging through one of the pouches of the other. He pulled out an amulet hanging from a gold chain. He shouldered the second bag, then offered the necklace to his partner.

The pendant was circular with a hinged cover plating the top. Mercy took the enchanted item and popped the top, revealing an interior mechanism shaped like the face of a clock. Instead of numbers, gems in different colors lined the edge of the exposed face of the mechanism. The sorcerer took a claw and gently nudged the hand at the center around, pointing it to the emerald.

“Ready?” Mercy flashed a small smile, flashing their sharp, predatory teeth.

With a firm nod, Astarion moved closer, fitting himself to his partner’s side. An arm draped loosely around Mercy’s waist. The sorcerer leaned into the touch as they gently closed the cover on the necklace. Rays of a spectrum of green lights glistened playfully from within the mechanism. The light began to extend out in pulses.

Mercy’s own magic manifested, blue electricity crackling around their body, static adding weight to the air, then discharged out in sparks that raced out and across the property, before eventually diving into the earth. Invisible lines etched beneath the property came to life, Mercy’s magic tracing the inscription until the magic circle was fully alive.

The transportation circle beneath them was bright, its blue light a beacon in the dead of the night. Astarion’s arm tightened around Mercy’s waist, pulling them tighter against him as the magic began to change the scenery around them. The dark forestline rippled, then faded away like water colors. The dark silhouette of the forest was replaced by dull brick buildings and stone walkways. The crisp, sharp scent of Autumn was replaced by the pungent aroma of city life. Baldur’s Gate sprawled out around them, filling the landscape where the forest had filled the endless expanse of the periphery of their world.

Mercy slipped the necklace around their neck. Astarion moved in tandem, easily becoming an extension of the sorcerer’s body. He gently took Mercy’s braid and guided it over the chain, then let it hang loosely behind the sorcerer. Mercy glanced at him, appreciation apparent in the momentary softness of their expression. It was quick, a moment of comfort, before their eyes narrowed and they steeled themself once more.

The pendant - a gift from Gale shortly after the gathering at Withers’s request - had placed them in front of the Elfsong Tavern. The building stood in its familiarity, almost like it was frozen in time. Ivy still crept along the gutters and draped down the wood and stone. The lively noises of mortals relishing the joys of the night filled the night air.

“Ah. The smell of home,” Astarion commented with a displeased pout, nose wrinkled. His hand twisted in the fabric of Mercy’s cloak, betraying the way his body was tensing.

Mercy patted the hand awkwardly, then settled theirs on top of his own. Mercy interlocked their fingers with Astarion’s. The sorcerer's clawed digits curled, fingertips pressing into the palm of his hand. They gave him the grace of silence, allowing him to feel whatever was beginning to stir within him, and took the lead. With feigned confidence, the sorcerer guided Astarion towards the entrance of the tavern.

Mercy pulled their hand away as they pushed the door open, then slowly pried themself from the arm wrapped around them. When he released the robe, he followed at the sorcerer’s heel. Inside the tavern, the dirtier scents of the city were replaced with the fragrance of spilled mead and stewed meat. A fire roared in a nearby fireplace, chasing away the night air and blanketing the interior in a welcoming warmth. The two caught the stray glances of a few of the tavern patrons, their eyes never lingering long on the infant sleeping against Mercy’s chest once they caught the sorcerer’s expression: a cold glare and slight curl of their lip, baring dangerously sharp teeth.

The tip of Mercy’s tail flicked with frustration as they approached the bar near the back of the building. Behind the bar’s structure, the barkeep was filling a mug with mead from a large barrel behind them. He placed it down on the polished tabletop and slid it across to a large, hardy woman enjoying the evening in solitude. When his gaze met Mercy’s, his eyes lit with recognition and a little bit of fear despite the babies strapped to the sorcerer’s body.

A smirk played at the corner of Mercy’s lips at the thrill of being feared. They sauntered over to the bar, confidence in their gait. “Good. You remember me.” They placed one arm against the bartop and flashed a shark-like smile.

The barkeep stood straight, body tensing. His eyes narrowed until his fearful gaze became a defensive glare. “I thought we were rid of you two.”

Astarion laughed, full bodied and mocking, as he laid both forearms against the bartop and leaned over. “That’s on you for being so hopeful.” He smirked, his crimson eyes shining with vicious playfulness.

Mercy glanced up at Astarion, locking their gaze with his to read whatever play it was he was about to make. They could see a playful confidence in his dangerous smile, like he was certain he knew what strings to play on the barkeep. They inclined their head, a subtle nod of understanding, before dragging their gaze, slow and deliberate, back to the barkeep. “We need a room,” they stated plainly.

The barkeep glanced between the two, then down at the infant strapped to the front of Mercy’s torso. The sorcerer’s smile faltered, a scowl threatening to twist their features as they dared the barkeep to say anything. He clearly thought twice, eyes quickly rising to look at Astarion, too afraid to meet Mercy’s gaze. “Fine. T-Two-hundred a night,” he stammered.

Astarion was quick to cut in, ready to take over. Mercy happily obliged, content to sit back and watch as the rogue began to run his mouth. “Two hundred a night for your dear old friends?”

The barkeep laughed at that, though his voice wavered, confidence only temporarily boosted before he caught sight of Mercy’s cutting glare. He cleared his throat. “Two-hundred a night or find another place to sleep.”

Astarion feigned a scandalized expression. His hand flew up to cover his heart. “You would kick the Hero of Baldur’s Gate to the street? With their newborns?” He was intentionally loud, drawing more attention than necessary, but he knew how to milk a situation for all it was worth. “Have you no heart?”

Mercy could feel Astarion’s smug satisfaction when the barkeep stammered, shrinking under stray glances from suddenly interested patrons. The barkeep glanced between the sorcerer and the rogue, then finally deflated entirely. “Fine. Gods, fine.” He turned to the keys hanging on the wall behind him. He grabbed one, then tossed it onto the counter, a little afraid to get too close to Mercy.

The sorcerer exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring with the force as they snatched up the key. “Next time, just give us the damn key,” they growled. They eyed him for a moment, delighting in the way the barkeep froze, breath caught in his throat. Mercy shook their head, snorting at the man’s pathetic display as they turned away from the bar.

Astarion waved a playful goodbye before turning on his heel and following after his partner. He reached out to grip onto the back of their cloak, keeping close as the two made their way up to the room. The weight of the beasts pressed on either side of Mercy’s being, holding them in the present when the familiar halls began to stir memories of longing, of memories of greatly missed friends and their ironclad bonds forged in the fires of circumstance.

Astarion took the key from Mercy’s hand. He glanced at the number engraved onto it, then moved ahead to guide the sorcerer. He paused outside the room with the matching number; the room that once belonged to Duke Stelmane. “Are you kidding me?” He frowned, glancing between the key and the door.

Mercy bumped his arm with their shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s a free room,” they reminded him. “A little death in the air will make us feel more at home. It’ll be fine.”

A little laugh drifted past the smile parting his pretty lips. Astarion inclined his head as he unlocked the door. “You’re right. Silly me.” He pushed the door open, then moved to allow Mercy to enter first. “Just do me a favor and don’t drink anything you find in the room.”

“Why? A little poison in my wine could be quite the treat.” The sorcerer passed the threshold quickly, then ventured further into the private room.

The room had been cleaned and mostly refurbished, but returned to what the sorcerer assumed was the room’s prior state. Before Stelmane’s untimely demise. The stench of death that once clung to the floorboards was gone. The bloodstained boards were ripped up, replaced with fresh wood to hide the horrors that happened within those four walls. Mercy stood in the center of the room, a little surprised by how little of Duke Stelmane’s death - and of the life she lived there - remained in the room.

The click of the door’s lock sliding into place was an aberration in the silence that fell across the room. Mercy turned, attention honing in on Astarion. He was still in his own thoughts, his gaze cast down as he lifted a hand and carded his fingers through his loose curls. The strands straightened with the pull of his fingers, but immediately bounced back into their perfect coils, as though they had been untouched.

The sorcerer watched in awe, momentarily stricken by his beauty. A moment that quickly faded when they felt Tail begin to stir. Mercy’s heart stopped, gaze falling down to the little girl resting against their chest. The twins had slept through the last two days, their bodies more like little corpses than newborns. Neither of the twins had opened their eyes once since they were born. It was creepy, but Mercy was appreciative of the peace that came with the beasts’ unnatural slumber.

The sorcerer exhaled their relief when Tail fell still. Mercy’s shoulders slumped under the weight of the children hanging from them. “Fuck…that was close.” They rolled their neck, then turned their attention back to Astarion.

Astarion was watching just as closely, only relaxing when Mercy caught his gaze. He dropped both bags to the ground. “Well, then…” He pursed his lips with a brief pause. “Would you like to get some rest before sunrise?”

“No. I can’t wait until sunrise.” Mercy’s brows furrowed, restlessness creeping under their skin as they looked down at the sleeping Tail. The sorcerer couldn’t wait any longer. Two days with their thoughts had been enough and they were ready to pounce into action.

Astarion blinked slowly, a little rattled by what he couldn’t decide was fearlessness or stupidity. “May I suggest not waking an owlbear while it's sleeping?”

“You may, but I’m not guaranteed to consider the input.” Mercy extended out a hand with their palm facing up. “The key.”

Stupidity, Astarion decided with a pause, then produced the key from his pocket. He curled his fingers around theiron, holding it against his palm as he set his closed knuckles against Mercy’s outstretched hand.

“If you’re going to be impatient, I am coming along.” He released the key, then moved to press his palm flat against Mercy’s. He laced their fingers together. “Better odds for you if she has two targets of her ire.”

“Fine.” Mercy sighed, but acquiesced. They leaned over, giving the back of his hand a quick, grateful kiss, then turned their hands over so the weight of the key fell into Astarion’s palm. The sorcerer withdrew their empty hand, arm falling to relax at their side. “If you’re joining me, make yourself useful and take Talons.”

“Ugh.” Astarion’s face scrunched dramatically with his visible discomfort. Despite the theatrics, he wasted no time circling around his partner. He carefully unwrapped the child anchored to Mercy’s back, lifting the small waist and cradling it awkwardly against his chest. He kept his mirthless gaze on the sorcerer. “Jaheira is not going to be happy about this.”

#astarion #astarion ancunin #the dark urge #durge #durgestarion #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #never love an anchor #bat writes #in which durge has to go home with their tail between their legs to tell their new mother what happened #AND TO PLEASE FIX THIS BECAUSE DURGE CANNOT

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buckysimp101 · 2 years

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Love at First Grade (18+) - Epilogue

Single Dad!Bucky x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

NOTE: Since I posted twice in one day, some of you may be seeing this chapter first, so please read Part 20 first!

chapter warnings: fluff, mentions of smut but no actual smut ft teensy bit of playful dirty talk

a/n: well friends this is it. The official-official end of the main story of Love at First Grade has arrived. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you’ve enjoyed the story! Deleted scenes/Drabbles coming soon & if you have any ideas you’d like to see/any thoughts on the story in general please send them my way!

Series Masterlist

Six Years Later

“Daddy…psssst daddy wake up,” a small voice whispered loudly in Bucky’s ear. He let out a quiet groan and rolled over to see a carbon copy of your eyes staring at him from the edge of the bed. He cut his eyes to the alarm clock and saw it read 4:30. He was surprised it was her waking him up and not Alpine begging to be fed.

“Tessa, it’s 4:30 in the morning you should be asleep,” he whispered, hoping not to wake you next to him. You shifted in your sleep and Bucky flinched, crossing his fingers and praying you’d stay asleep. When you didn’t move anymore he refocused his attention on the toddler in front of him. She was pouting, your signature look, and she was damn good at it. How a newly minted three year old could be so manipulative with just a look was beyond him.

“No sleep, daddy. The greebles chase me,” she whispered, her eyes widening in slight fear. Bucky sighed, silently cursing Becca and Avery for convincing her that “greebles” were real. Bucky cursed himself for telling Avery and Becca that “greebles” were what made Alpine go crazy when she zoomed around the house, meowing at unseen objects.

Yes. House. Despite how often you tried, you didn’t get pregnant until a few months after you and Bucky got married four years ago. Once you found out that you were pregnant with Tessa you knew that you wanted to give up the penthouse. The penthouse had been where all of you were staying, with more than enough room for everyone plus Alpine, but you wanted more space. A home with a yard where your kids could play, and sadly Manhattan was lacking in that department. So you and Bucky sold the penthouse and purchased a large home with an equally large yard and pool in New Rochelle. Bucky continued teaching but moved the girls out of their school in the city to one a little closer to your new house. Your commute wasn’t so bad, forty minutes give or take, and since you were the boss you got to decide when you went in and when you didn’t. Upon marrying, you decided to hyphenate your name becoming Y/N L/N-Barnes. When Bucky asked why you would do that when you had never changed your name after marrying Brock you told him that it was because somewhere deep inside you knew he wasn’t the one and that he didn’t deserve to have you take his name. The girls kept their last names, in fact they kept all the information on their original birth certificates. Brock had surrendered his parental rights fully to you within a year of being in jail and Dot had signed hers over to Bucky just as quickly. No fight and no mess out of it. You both decided that Avery and Becca should make the decision when they were older if they wanted to change any of their legal documents and you stuck by that.

Now, Tessa Grace Barnes was born kicking and screaming at 1:09am on June 6th, just in time for your first wedding anniversary. Your pregnancy was rough, you had morning sickness the entire time and major fatigue at the end. But you swore it was all worth it when that six pound baby was laid in your arms. You giggled that she looked just like you, there was no correcting you because you were right. She had everything of yours, the only thing she seemed to have inherited of Bucky’s was a head full of dark hair. Now Bucky was face to face with the little menace, with her mom’s wide eyes and a pout that would put lipstick models to shame.

“Climb on up, sweet girl. But be careful with mommy, we don’t wanna wake her up,” he whispered, providing an opening in the covers for the toddler to climb into. Tessa refused to make it easy on him and instead of climbing into the bed on his side and staying there she crawled over Bucky and made herself comfortable in the small space between the two of you. You groaned and shifted in your sleep again, this time Tessa and Bucky froze, anticipating you waking up, but instead you rolled onto your back and went back to sleep, the blanket pulled tight against your rounded tummy.

“Sorry mommy, sorry Owiver,” Tessa whispered before wiggling under the covers and closing her eyes like she was sleeping. Pretty soon pretending to be asleep turned into actually being asleep and Bucky watched his toddler’s chest even out with her deep, sleeping breaths. The two of you could’ve been twins the way you slept and it warmed Bucky’s heart to be a place of comfort for his children again. Becca and Avery were twelve and thirteen now, going on thirteen and fourteen, and it had pained Bucky physically when his girls stopped having nightmares or seeking the two of you for comfort. But they had each other and they continued to stick up for each other today. Bucky rolled over and laid his arms over both his girls, his hand reaching to rub protective circles over your belly.

Not long after Tessa was born and you were cleared for ‘acts of intimacy’ as your doctor put it, the two of you began trying again for another baby. You found out that Bucky had been only partially kidding when he said he wanted a thousand kids with you, but you’d leveled with him and told him that four sounded like plenty. Between the sassiness of your pre-teens, the stress of your job at times, and the rough pregnancy you endured with Tessa you and Bucky realized that Oliver would likely be your last. Bucky had spent the last twelve years perfecting what it meant to be a girl dad, but the second the doctor told the two of you that you were carrying a boy? You swore you’d never seen Bucky’s eyes light up like that. You had his name picked out almost immediately and now Oliver George, for Bucky’s father, Barnes was set to make his appearance in just three short months.

Eventually Bucky was able to fall back asleep by listening to the light breathing of you and Tessa next to him. He was, however, rudely awakened around four hours later when Alpine decided it was time for him to shower her with affection and attention that she obviously wasn’t getting. With a swat to his face by a snow white paw Bucky was groaning and whispering, “I’m up demon, I’m up.”

A quick glance to his right proved what he suspected, you and Tessa were already up and making breakfast in the kitchen judging by the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Bucky rounded the corner to the kitchen where he saw you singing with Tessa to the Frozen 2 soundtrack as she twirled around in her Elsa costume Uncle Steve had given her at her birthday party the day before. You had one hand rubbing your belly as you sang Anna’s part and made sure the bacon was cooked fully. Bucky leaned against the door, a satisfied grin on his face, as he took in the view of you enjoying a morning with your youngest.

His view was interrupted by a throat clearing behind him. A sleep filled voice called out, “Dad don’t just stand there and watch mom, that’s creepy.” Becca stood behind him, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes and clearly a little annoyed that she’d been woken up to the sound of Frozen 2 and not when she decided to wake up.

Avery walked around the corner at the moment and added, “is he being weird again? Papa, it’s really weird when you do that staring thing, just go help mama with breakfast,” she rolled her eyes as she and Becca entered the kitchen to tell you and Tessa good morning, the three year old squealing at the sight of her big sisters. Avery and Becca took turns picking her up and squeezing her in a tight hug, wishes of Happy Birthday fell from their lips as their little sister took in all the attention.

Bucky waited a moment then announced his presence, “did I hear that right? There is now a three year old in the house? Impossible! Make your presence known three year old!” Bucky roared and pretended to stomp around the kitchen looking for a mystery three year old. Tessa giggled and hid behind Becca’s legs. He walked up to you and pretended to look behind you for her before placing a chaste kiss on your lips and whispering, “happy anniversary, honey,” and continuing with his search. When he finally reached Becca again he bent down and peaked around her shoulder and “found” Tessa as she squealed and screamed “I’M THWEE DADDY I’M THWEE!”

You watched your family lovingly from your place at the stove, Oliver kicking up a storm as his way of reminding you he was just as much a part of the family as everyone else. It always made you happy to see your family happy and playing around in your home. You finished with breakfast and made sure to serve Tessa her birthday pancakes first, a little number 3 candle sticking out as your family sang happy birthday. She blew out her candle with a squeal, everything was squeals and giggles at her age, and immediately started dousing her breakfast in syrup. Bucky had to remove the container from her to prevent a total sticky surface. You went back to the kitchen to pick up a little from cooking when you felt two different temperatures arms wrap under your belly, around your hips and pull you close.

“Mmmm come sit down, mama. Dishes can wait,” Bucky purred in your ear, rubbing small circles on the underside of your belly with his thumbs. You practically melted into his touch as he pressed soft kisses next to your ear and began to trail them lightly down your jaw. You almost moaned at the feeling but quickly stopped yourself.

“Buck, love, honey, sweetheart. The kids are in the next room, you gotta stop,” you gasped lightly as he lightly bit at your neck.

Bucky chuckled in your ear and whispered once more, “mmm that’s not what you said the other night,” his words bringing up memories of heavy kisses, heavy touches as you rode him, both of you chasing your orgasms as the pregnancy hormones made you hornier and hornier with every passing day. Surprisingly enough, or unsurprisingly rather, sex is what brought Tessa into this world. Obviously, biologically speaking, but rather the almost-our-anniversary sex you and Bucky were having the morning of the day your water broke helped kickstart the labor.

“You’re insatiable, Mr. Barnes,” you teased as you sighed into the relief Bucky gave you by physically picking up your bump and holding it for you, just for a little bit.

“I rather think that’s you, Mrs. Barnes, you sure you don’t want another one? After Oliver I mean. Seeing you looking like an angel, all soft and round with our child. Come on, sugar. You know you wanna,” he moaned in your ear, his sleep pants tightening at the idea of filling you with another baby.

You twisted around in his arms, your bump creating more space between the two of you and leaned your head up to give him a deep kiss, one full of passion and heat, one that would only be able to be reciprocated fully in your bedroom later. Bucky moaned into the kiss but you shut him up with a stern look before adding, “this womb is shutting down after this one finishes playing leap frog on my bladder and is successfully evicted. Unless you can start carrying them we’re SOL buddy,” offering a playful swat to his ass with the dish towel.

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly at you, knowing the two of you’d had this conversation a number of times and you were both in agreement that Oliver would be your last. “Well I’m not eating with all my girls if you’re not there. You’re six months, Y/N. Come sit down, I’ll get this in a little bit, promise.” You acquiesced and joined the family in the dining room, listening to Tessa tell Avery and Becca about all the games she wanted to play today as part of her birthday. This pregnancy had been better on you than when you were pregnant with Tessa. You could actually move around and go out in public without feeling like you were simultaneously going to throw up and pass out.

Avery and Becca were whispering to each other as they kept sneaking glances at you and Bucky. They thought they were sneaky, they always did, but you and Bucky knew when they were up to something. Or rather, you thought you did. Because as soon as they were done eating breakfast, Avery and Becca ran off to their rooms as fast as they could. You and Bucky merely quirked an eyebrow each at their weird behavior but let them be. Pre-teens were always weird. Pretty soon they were each walking back to the dining room, their hands behind their backs with matching grins on their faces.

“Oof, those faces mean troubleeeee,” you teased in a sing-song voice, directing Bucky’s attention to the girls. He took in their stances and raised his brow even more in question.

Becca spoke first, “First of all, we wanted to say happy anniversary,”

Avery continued, “we’re so lucky and happy that we met you all those years ago,”

“And that we were able to become a happy family,” Becca added.

“We knew what we wanted to get you for your anniversary for a few years now, but this year seemed right,” Avery finished as she walked to Bucky and Becca walked to you.

On a very freaky, but obvious, silent mental count of three each girl presented you with an envelope.

“You have to open them at the same time!” Avery and Becca spoke monotonously, it was becoming harder and harder to remember that they were not actually twins, they were just freakily close.

So you and Bucky made eye contact and verbally counted to three before opening your envelopes. Inside your envelope was an adoption form. Inside Bucky’s was an adoption form and a name change request. Your heads whipped towards each other immediately, both of you growing teary after realizing what your girls were giving you. They wanted you to officially adopt them, and Avery was requesting a name change to Avery Claire Barnes.

“Whattaya say, mom? Wanna make it official?” Becca jested while Avery looked at Bucky with a smirk to rival Tony Stark as she teased, “c’mon daaaad. Let me be officially a member of the Barnes clan.”

You each broke down into tears and pulled your girls into individual hugs, nodding your heads and promising them that you’d go get it signed, notarized and filed at the courthouse as soon as possible.

Later that evening, you and Bucky had put Tessa to bad, Avery and Becca were hanging out watching television in their playroom as you and Bucky took over the couch for evening snuggles and a movie. You played with Bucky’s hair for a bit before asking, “did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Know that Becca was going to ask me to adopt her?”

“Yeah she came to me a few weeks ago, said she needed help getting the paperwork. Did you know about Avery?”

“Yeah, she did the same thing…funny I never even suspected that Becca might have been up to the same thing…but man I’m thrilled she did,” you sighed as Bucky smiled, content with having you next to him.

“Me too, then again I’ve just been thrilled to have you in my life for the past seven years,” he said dotingly, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You agreed with a hum and leaned into his warm embrace.

We’re all familiar with the phrase ‘love at first sight.’ You always joked with Bucky that you felt like you’d been struck with the love bug the second the two of you met and that they got that phrase all wrong. Love at First Grade, that’s what they meant.

a/n: Officially. This is the end of Love at First Grade’s main storyline! Thank you everyone! I love y’all and hope y’all enjoyed this, I know I did!

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#bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x reader #single dad bucky barnes #single mom reader #single dad bucky x single mom reader #teacher!bucky x ceo!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #buckysimp101 fanfic #love at first grade fic

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eslanes · 9 months

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From the Depths of WordPress

I received this comment about the Aida / Jace / Faelern mess in my dusty old story (which I will finally finish this year!!!)

I wanted to dig into this because there are definitely a few things going on here. I will copy and paste my reply to the blog as well, but bear with me while I get my thoughts out.

(⚠️ warnings for mentions of pregnancy, sexual assault and murder ⚠️)

Thank you for this! I love comments! For everyone unfamiliar, one of the main elements of the story is the love triangle between our heroine and the two idiots pursuing her. At this point in the story, Aida is knocked up with Jace's baby and decides (quite stupidly) to sneak out and fuck Faelern. Jace finds out, beats the everloving fuck outta his rival, while Aida literally runs away into the night. When she returns Jace dumps her and kicks her out of his house. A mess, right?

I'll get into it under the cut:

While, 1000%, Aida needs consequences for her reckless actions (dirty deeds aside, she has an unhinged and vindictive sibling trying to murder her), there's way more to it than just Aida not being able to keep it in her pants. She has major unresolved trauma, starting with being homeless as a teen, to more recently when she was kidnapped, assaulted and made to watch a friend be murdered. As a result of this (and knowing what she's been through) Jace has given her a lot of leeway and tried his best not to rock the boat. He obviously knew she was still in contact with Faelern (he's not the smartest, but he's not that thick), but tried his best to ignore it for fear of upsetting/pushing away/losing Aida. For better or worse, Jace really does love her. While totally true they never really defined their relationship, Jace definitely assumed that when Aida got pregnant they would be exclusive. All signs pointed to it, she moved in etc. So in Jace's eyes, it was absolutely cheating. But not just that, she deliberately put herself and their baby in danger, the absolute breaking point for him.

As for Aida sleeping with Diego, it's majorly fucked up and it's supposed to be. Due to aforementioned Trauma™, Aida was left a shell of herself. In a desperate attempt to make sense of what happened to her, she pays Diego a visit and offers him the one thing she knows will tempt him in order to get the information she needs. I really didn't feel this would be out of character for Aida based on what she's experienced. As for Diego, it is a well-known fact that he is a scumbag, given that he literally used her for sexual favours while making her believe that he was helping her. That and he didn't want her to find out that he was the one who gave Aida to her brother's goons in the first place. I think Sky finding out would not only break Aida (she did those things at her absolute lowest and most vulnerable point) but Diego as well, who has actually softened a great deal since becoming involved with Sky. And like, let's be real, Sky would absolutely castrate Diego and flush his balls down the toilet.

#eslanes answers asks #a devil between us

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year

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Only the Strong Survive Ch. 4

Series Summary: Lexie Weston is in a terrible, abusive marriage. In her mind and soul, she feels like she has no way out that won't result in her death. But something changes in her life to make her take the risk. Can she rely on Sheriff Beau Arlen to protect her like he said he would, or will this risk lead to ruin?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N (eventual)

Series Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut, Angst, Fluff throughout. A pretty slow burn, TW: Abusive marriage, Domestic abuse will be talked about throughout. Chapter warnings will be more specific

Word Count: 3,027

Chapter Summary: Beau comes to visit Lexi with some tough news, and a gift.

Chapter Warnings: TW: Domestic abuse mentioned, fear and anxiety due to abuse talked about throughout the chapter. Angst, sadness. Discussion of pregnancy, fetuses, and newborns. Bit of pining happening. Also Beau being the best and sweetest. That's definitely a warning!

A/N: So this will be my first Beau series. I already have 8,000 series on the go, so I thought, of course, that I had to make 8001. 😄 But this idea's been sitting in my head for a while so here it is. 😁 I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do. Feedback is EVERYTHING to a writer, and I'd sure love to read what you thought.

Hope you enjoy Ch. 4!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics

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Beau walked through the glass doors into the quiet lounge area of Haven House. It was made to look a little like a doctor’s office, which is what they would tell anyone who came through the doors and asked. From the outside the general public only saw a nondescript building hidden behind a large yard of trees, and if they happened to venture inside, they were told it was a private doctor’s clinic, and that they weren’t taking patients.

But Beau knew different, of course. Law enforcement across the county knew about Haven House, and had made use of its services on more than one occasion.

He approached the desk that was situated behind what he knew to be bullet-proof glass. He knew because he’d helped them install it earlier that year. The state’s budget for Haven House wasn’t lavish, and he knew Sarah stretched those few dollars as far as she could, spending the vast majority of it on the well-being of the women and children who were being housed there. Most of the staff were volunteers, and the offices and staff areas were pretty shabby and in bad need of repair.

So a few months ago, he’d taken a week of evenings to do what he could in fixing it up. He’d insisted that they switch out the old plexiglass window for a bullet-proof version, considering the kind of violent person that could come strolling through. The security in the residence was wonderful, but as usual the staff areas weren’t as well cared for, so Beau had done what he could to change that.

As he approached the window, he smiled at Pat, the elderly lady who ran the administrative side of things at Haven House. She ran a tight ship, and she never cut corners in her diligence to safety, which he appreciated. But she also never cracked a smile or allowed any softness to show in her sternly-lined face. That is, until a little one was nearby, then her shell cracked and warmth oozed out of her.

She absolutely adored children. And children adored her back. She was notorious for her ability to soothe a crying baby - even teething babies, even collicky babies! According to the mothers who stayed at Haven House, Pat was simply a wizard, and if she frightened them slightly with her gruffness, they forgave all when she took their screaming babies out of their exhausted arms, and shooed them off to nap.

He smiled at her now, even though he knew she wouldn’t reciprocate, which she didn’t. “Good afternoon, Ms. Patricia. How are you this fine day?”

Pat shrugged. “Knees hurt.” She answered succinctly. “Assume you’re here to see 1511?”

Pat never referred to the women or children by their names, just by their file numbers. It was for safety and anonymity.

Beau nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Pat silently passed him the log book, so he could sign in and then buzzed him through to the residence. He gave her a little salute in thanks, to which she merely grunted, making him smile.

He walked down the long hallway, twisting and turning around corners, well-versed in how to get around after his many visits - both before and after Lexi came to stay.

When Lexi had first come to Haven House, he’d been to see her everyday for a week straight, mostly because of the interviews and questioning that had to be done. But he’d purposely stretched the interviews out over the week. He’d wanted to conduct short interviews that wouldn’t take too much out of her each day, but also he wanted to reassure her that he hadn’t merely dumped her here and then promptly forgotten about her. He wanted her to know that he still cared about keeping her safe.

But after that first week, he’d slowed down his visits, only stopping in once, maybe twice a week, just to check in. Partly, he hadn’t wanted to monopolize her time as she was adjusting to her new, temporary home…but there were other reasons as well.

Now it had been over two weeks since he’d seen her last, and almost a month and a half since he’d come to take her away from the nightmare she’d been living.

He wished he was coming back to see her with better news.

He entered the day room and only Lexi was there. She sat, reading by the window. Well actually, he realized, she was just quietly staring out the window, holding a book. As he walked closer, she heard him approach and startled, dropping her book onto the ground.

Slightly embarrassed by her response, she blushed a little as she smiled up at him. “Sheriff! Sorry, you caught me daydreaming.”

Beau shook his head. “Please, it’s Beau, remember? And I’m sorry, I should have made more noise as I came in.”

Lexi smiled and shook her head as she stood up, bending to retrieve her book. She set it on the window sill and went to pour herself a cup of coffee from the long table that held the machine, and rows of chipped porcelain cups, along with powdered milk and sugar. She nodded towards the pot of coffee.

“Want a cup?”

Beau nodded. “Sure, that’d be great. Just one sugar, please.”

They were quiet as she poured out two cups, and prepared them. Then they moved to sit on one of the worn and slightly frayed blue velour couches.

Beau took a sip of his coffee and licked his lips. “How have you been, Lexi?”

She smiled and looked down at her lap, as she answered. “I’ve been okay. Adjusting, you know. Takes some time.”

She looked up at him and he was happy to see there was excitement in her expression. “My counselor here, her name is Michelle, she’s been really helpful. She’s signed me up for the GED program they run out of here. There are classrooms and everything, so they’re gonna help me to get my diploma. Or well, the equivalent, I guess.”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap again, subdued, and Beau felt his heart squeeze. He’d noticed that this was something she did often. Anytime she was even a little excited about something, she seemed apologetic afterwards, as though her emotions and happiness were something to be sorry for, something that was annoying.

He hated that she felt that way. So, he smiled widely and put as much enthusiasm as possible into his voice when he responded. “Hey, that’s fantastic, Lexi. No way someone as bright as you should be without their diploma. You’re gonna do great.”

He could see two bright spots of pink appear on the apples of her cheeks and it made him smile even brighter. Then he remembered why he was there, and the smile faltered.

Deciding to put it off for a bit longer, from his left breast pocket he pulled out the little gift he’d brought, a small square parcel, just wrapped up in white tissue paper.

“Here, I saw these and thought of you, so I had to get ‘em for you.” He said as he held out the package towards her.

Lexi’s face was all shock. “Sher-...I mean, Beau…you shouldn’t have.” She said as she took the gift and stared down at it all wrapped up in her hands. “After everything you’ve already done…”

She trailed off, and Beau was slightly dismayed to see that the soft light of the day room glinted off the unshed tears in her wide hazel eyes. He shook his head.

“No, really it’s nothing that special. Just something I thought might come in handy down the line. And well, the truth is they’re just too adorable, and I was glad I had a reason to buy them.”

When Lexi smiled, slightly confused, he smiled back and waved his hand towards the package. “Open it!” He encouraged.

With a small sniffle, she gently pulled apart the tissue paper in a slightly reverent manner and he started wondering how long it had been since she’d been given a gift. It hurt his heart to think about it.

Finally she pulled the paper back to reveal two tiny little sneakers encased in a clear plastic box. A small gasp sounded from Lexi as she held them up to get a closer look. “Oh my gosh! Look at how little bitty these are!” She gushed.

Beau laughed and nodded. “Right? They were just so friggin’ cute. And they made me remember when we brought Emily home from the hospital; we had an outfit for her to wear that was labeled, ‘newborn’, but she was swimming in it. I’m telling you, they’re even tinier than you can imagine. At least, Em was.”

Lexi was pulling the tiny shoes out of the package and holding them up to her still flat tummy. She looked up at Beau and her face once again held excitement and pleasure. “You know, the doctor said that I was probably about twelve weeks along, so I Googled it, and it says the baby is about the size of a plum, which probably wouldn’t be much bigger than this shoe! She could actually just fit inside the shoe right now!” She said with a wide grin.

It was the first time he’d ever seen her grin with actual humor. Usually, she just gave shy or embarrassed smiles. The grin lit up her face, and her bright hazel green eyes were absolutely beautiful. The sight made him want to put off the real reason for the visit for a little longer.

“She?” He asked. “Did you find out?”

Lexi shook her head. “No, the doctor said she still couldn’t be sure.” She shrugged. “I’m just…guessing.”

Beau wondered whether the “guess” was more of a hope. Maybe the idea of raising a boy all on her own, worried her; he could understand that. But he didn’t ask, figuring that would be too intrusive a question. So, he just nodded.

“Ah! Well, you know sugar and spice versus snails and puppy dog tails…I’d hope for a girl too.” He said, chuckling. “We were pretty happy with our little girl. Still am, as a matter of fact.”

Lexi smiled and looked at her lap again before she answered, subdued once again. “She’s incredibly lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, I feel lucky to have her too.”

As he saw her slightly sad smile, Beau had a sudden urge to wrap Lexi up in his arms until the note of melancholy left her voice and the gentle sadness left her face. He had that urge quite often actually.

Which was one of the reasons he’d slowed down his visits. He was worried that his attachment to Lexi Weston was becoming unprofessional. Actually, he wondered and worried if his immediate need to help her, to keep her safe and protect her, had ever been professional.

As a cop, he’d had the unpleasant task of dealing with domestic battery cases in the past. He was always willing to go the extra mile to make sure women in those situations were cared for, safe, and free to live out the rest of their lives far from their abusers. But that was where those relationships ended. He got them to safety, he testified in court about his part, and moved on, happy that they’d gotten out.

With Lexi, however, he found that he wanted to keep holding on to her, wanted to shield her every moment. But even beyond that, he found that he wanted to talk to her, exchange stories and discover what made her tick, find out what she liked and what she hated, he wanted to hear her opinions, wanted to make her laugh.

They warned cops during training that sometimes people formed attachments to the cop that saved them; sometimes they’d even believe they were in love with the officer who’d gotten them out of a bad situation, or that had pulled them out of harm’s way. Cops were taught not to encourage this behavior because it was unethical to take advantage of someone’s misplaced feelings after a trauma.

But Beau had begun to wonder if it ever went the other way; was it a natural psychiatric phenomenon for the cop to be drawn to the victim? To want to help them through everything, to want to ease their fear always, to want to make sure nothing ever hurt them again?

And was he a disgusting pig because of his observations the last time he’d come to see her? He’d noticed that she’d started to put on a bit more weight now that she was eating regularly, and healthily - that she was beginning to fill out her figure beautifully. Was that gross behavior? Because he’d definitely noticed, and his libido had definitely noticed too.

It had made Beau want to kick his own ass.

For God’s sake, she was a woman who’d been through extreme trauma, and the last thing in the world she needed was for him to be lusting after her like a creep. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t help the attraction.

But he at least had the good sense to keep all of this to himself; he’d do anything to keep from making Lexi more uncomfortable, scared, and worried. So, he was never going to act on his ridiculous feelings.

Sitting beside her on the couch now, he realized that he probably shouldn’t be sitting here, relaxing and enjoying her company so much either, and he finally decided it was time for him to get down to the real reason he was there.

He let out a deep sigh. “So, unfortunately, I’m not only here with adorable baby shoes. I have some…news as well.”

The seriousness on Beau’s face and in his voice was obviously apparent, because Lexi lost her soft smile and began to twist her hands in her lap and pick at her nails, a habit Beau had caught on to early on - a fairly obvious tell that she was scared and nervous.

“Okay.” She said in a small voice. “What kind of news?”

Beau took a deep breath. “The ‘not great’ kind, I’m afraid.”

When Lexi’s face showed panic, he held up his hand. “It’s not terrible or anything. It’s just…well, a court date has been set for Simon’s case to be heard. He’s chosen to have the case heard by a judge as opposed to a jury, and we found out late yesterday afternoon which judge has been assigned to the case.”

Lexi chewed on her bottom lip before urging him to continue. “Okay, who’s the judge?”

Beau cleared his throat. “His name is Judge Morrisey. He’s…well, he’s a very conservative judge, with a history of some questionable rulings in domestic cases.”

Lexi’s face was pale, and she wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself. Beau continued, spitting the bad news out quickly. Not that there was much good news to take the sting out.

“He tends to side with the defendant in most domestic abuse cases, unless there is very strong, and irrefutable evidence on the side of the prosecution. And unfortunately…” Beau shook his head,”...unfortunately, most of what we have against Simon is just your word against his. There are no corroborating statements other than Cassie and I stating what we saw when you came to the station that day. But that can all be explained away pretty easily by his lawyer. There are no records of hospital visits or previous police reports.”

Lexi burst in, her voice hoarse and rough. “I was scared he’d kill me if I went to the police. And he never let me go to the hospital after. He broke my wrist once and just set it with some sticks he found in the woods around our house.”

She shook her head as though she couldn’t believe the injustice Beau was explaining to her. He nodded; he couldn’t really understand it either.

He tried to reassure her. “We know, darlin’. And of course we all believe you completely, and we’re gonna fight hard to make sure he’s put away for a long time. The prosecutor for your case is a woman named Marsha Langdon and she’s a badass, and an amazing lawyer. She’s gonna give it everything she’s got.”

Lexi looked at him and the terror in her big eyes seemed to swallow up her whole face. Knowing that he shouldn’t do it, Beau moved closer to her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her. She immediately melted into him and he could feel her tears soak through the cream colored button down shirt he wore.

“I swore to you that I’d keep you safe, Lexi, and I’m not going to break that promise, no matter what, whatever it takes.”

He realized that sounded pretty nefarious, and trying to assure himself that he hadn’t been talking about breaking the law, he continued quickly, detailing the perfectly legal means they were going to use to keep her safe.

“Marsha wants to come meet with you a few times before the first court date, which is a couple weeks from now. She wants to go over your testimony and prepare you for questioning from his lawyer and the judge.”

He squeezed her against him tightly and pressed his lips against the crown of her head. He tried to convince himself that it was no less than he would do for anyone who was crying and scared, but the feeling in his heart told him otherwise.

Lexi shuddered once and then spoke in a soft whisper. “Will you be there? In court?”

He was going to tell her that he’d be there to give his testimony, but then he’d be expected to leave. But she pulled back to look at him, and the hope and fear warring on her face made him give a different answer completely.

“Absolutely. Every step.”

Hope won out in her expression and she laid her head back on his shoulder and sighed deeply. “Thank you, Beau.” She said quietly.

Shit, Beau thought with real trepidation, what the hell am I getting myself into?

#beau arlen fic #beau arlen #beau arlen fluff #beau arlen angst #big sky fan fic

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thewayofthemandalorian · 2 years

Text

can’t we hit rewind (second, third, and hundredth chances - epilogue)

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (past)

Rating: M

Word count: 1,388

Summary: Six years after you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with him, Dieter Bravo finds a lost child in a store, who has no idea what his connection is to her.

Notes: I know I said I was done with this. But this won’t leave me alone and then listening to The Fear by The Shins pushed me back into the rabbit hole (I would recommend listening to that while reading this). This is the last part to what was supposed to be a singular one-shot that just wouldn’t leave me alone. Written in the drafts, so forgive any wonkiness.

Warnings: Angst, lost child, swearing, references to drug use and infidelity (from the first part), pregnancy mention

main fic || deleted scenes || masterlist (main) || masterlist (dieter bravo)

It’s a rainy Saturday afternoon in Chicago. The last time Dieter Bravo had been here was when he came to find you, to beg for your forgiveness.

He hadn’t received that. Only received the bombshell that you wanted nothing to do with him, was pregnant with his daughter, and had moved on with another man. Dieter had kept his promise that he would stay away, wouldn’t keep in contact with his daughter.

It was really fucking hard, especially in the early days after seeing what his actions had done to you, to keep on the wagon. There were some days where he was seconds away from calling his old dealers. But he had to stay clean. He couldn’t undo everything that he had worked so hard on.

Six years later, he’s still clean, and has tried to revive his career, pouring himself into his work (when he can get work). It took a lot of convincing and a lot of proving himself to directors and studios. He hasn’t made a major tentpole movie in years, but has found a modicum of success for himself in smaller, indie projects.

That’s why he’s here. To make a movie. He doesn’t know if he wants to see you or not. Keeps going back and forth. Chicago’s a pretty big city, though. And who knows? Maybe you’ve moved.

He finds himself at the bookstore. The movie he’s shooting is based on a book and his cousin, Javi, the screenwriter, had been insistent that Dieter read the book first to fully understand his character. Usually he would ignore such demands and requests and just read the Sparksnotes version, but it’s not a very popular book and as such, there’s no entry. Plus, Javi got him this role, so he feels like he owes him.

It’s a massive bookstore. They really like books in Chicago, he guesses. One thing he hasn’t minded about mostly fading into obscurity, is that no one pays attention to him anymore. It used to be rare that he go out in public and not be stopped for a selfie. The odd person will recognize him, but in a vague “aren’t you that guy...” kind of way.

Book in hand, Dieter begins to meander his way through the maze of the bookstore, when he hears sniffling. It sounds like a child. Turning a corner, he finds a little girl sitting down, trying her very hardest not to cry, with limited success. She has a mop of curly brown hair, not dissimilar to his own hair when he was that age. She can’t be more than five or six.

Dieter must make a sound because she looks up and his own eyes are staring back at him.

Oh shit.

“I can’t f-find my d-daddy,” his mini-me says and there is no doubt in his mind that this little girl is his daughter. It’s like looking in a mirror; she’s a perfect combination of mostly him and partially you. Thank god she inherited your nose, Dieter muses.

I’m pretty sure I’m your daddy, Dieter thinks and almost says. Instead, he crouches down in front of her. “What’s your daddy’s name?” he asks, knowing that this will be the confirmation he needs, while also helping her.

“S-Steven G-Grant. I’m Eliza. He to-told me t-t-to stay right here while he went to f-find something for Mama’s birthday.”

Eliza Grant is one hundred percent his daughter.

After that fateful day when you came home, finding him strung out and in bed with Kate Edison, Dieter never forgot your birthday. Not once.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll find you soon. Why don’t we go to the front so that they can make an announcement?”

Eliza sniffs. “B-but Daddy said to st-stay put.”

Every time Eliza calls Steven that and not Dieter, it stabs a little in his chest cavity. She should be calling him that. But he gave up that right the second he proved himself to be untrustworthy to you, the second he broke your heart.

Dieter swallows the pain. “He sounds like a pretty smart guy, your dad. But it’s a big store, and that way he’ll know exactly where you are.”

He knows how it sounds, and Eliza’s right to have stranger danger, but he has no intention of stealing her away. “Or at least go find a sales person,” he amends. “I’m sure he’s really worried about you, kid.”

Eliza sniffles and nods. “Okay.” She clambers up onto her feet. “He really is the smartest, my daddy. He runs the tours at the museum. That’s how he and my Mama met. He’s not really my daddy; Mama told me that my real daddy made her really sad when I was still growing in her tummy because he wasn’t a nice man and she came here and met daddy.”

A thousand daggers pierce his heart. That is all his daughter knows about him. All she’ll ever know about him. As much as Dieter wants to tell her who he is to her, he knows it will only confuse and upset her. “I’m sorry to hear that, kid,” he manages to gruff out against the knot that’s formed in his throat.

Eliza, completely oblivious, chatters on. “But daddy loves me like he is my real daddy. Even when my baby sister comes in two months, I’ll still be his special girl, too. He told me that when he and Mama told me about the new baby that’s growing in her tummy.”

Dieter wishes he could hit rewind on the past seven years. Go back and do things differently so that he could be the one in this sweet girl’s life. Not hurt you over and over to the point of breaking. But he can’t. He doesn’t have that right. Dieter truly didn’t know what he had until it was too late. And that’s no one’s fault but his.

“And daddy is my favourite person in the whole world. He reads to me and he takes me to the park and he helps me with my math homework and makes silly jokes.”

Dieter nods, forces himself to speak. “He sounds great, sweetheart.” Eliza nods and before she can say anything else, Dieter spots a salesperson. “Over here. This lady can help us.”

The saleswoman walks up to him and Eliza. “Can I help you?”

Can you help me undo all the mistakes that led to this? he wants to ask. He clears his throat. “I found this little girl in the fantasy section, she can’t find her dad.”

The saleswoman looks between Eliza and Dieter, a curious look on her face for a split second. Dieter mentally wills her not to say anything about the obvious. “Of course, thank you for bringing her to me. I’ll make an announcement. What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asks Eliza.

“Eliza Grant. My daddy’s name is Steven Grant.”

The saleswoman walks over to the nearest PA speaker. “Can Eliza’s dad, Steven Grant please come to the biography section, please? That’s Steven Grant, Eliza’s dad, to the biography section.” She looks over to Dieter. “I can watch her if you need to get on with your day, sir.”

Dieter nods, looks at Eliza for a split second. “Thank you,” he manages to get out to the saleswoman.

“Thanks, mister,” Eliza says.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he says gruffly before forcing himself to turn on his heel in the direction of the checkout.

But before he can get too far, he sees Steven rushing in the direction of Eliza. “Sweetheart,” Steven cries.

Dieter hears Eliza cry, “Daddy! I didn’t know where you were!”

“I didn’t know where you were, Miss Muffet. I was so worried.” Steven scoops his daughter up his arms, the worry on his face melting to relief. Dieter spots a wedding ring on Steven’s finger. Between that and Eliza said about her baby sister, Dieter knows that’s it, then. “Who found you?” he hears Steven ask.

“A man. He looked sad.” And ain’t that the truth.

Book paid for, Dieter walks back out into the rain. There’s nothing he can do to change things with you or with Steven or with Eliza. But Eliza is well-loved and well-cared for. Dieter knows he’s run out of luck with getting you back. And he can’t change that. What happened, happened. All he can do now is move on with the knowledge that his daughter is loved and cared for.

The End

--- taglist in reblog

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #my writing #the angst is back #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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crisalidaseason · 1 year

Text

Beware the entity of the river

Summary: The legend of the man of the night, feared by many, a warning to young women. Tags and CW: Armin x reader insert, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader has a name because I can't stand Y/N use, nothing else specified for reader. Armin is a folclorical creature based on my culture. Misogyny (not from Armin, just society), mentions of women objectification (nothing heavily described but importan to the plot), mentions of unwanted pregnancy (not from reader), ostracism, shitty parents and society, arranged marriage, major character death, tragedy, angst, not conventional portrayal of love, implied nudity (minors DNI)

“Beware the entity of the river, he shall not be approached by young women”

A warning she heard since her ears were able to understand the words. From her mother to the merchants, all the people of that village spoke the same verses.

“My dear, please come home before the sun sets”

A mother’s plea to every daughter that grew into a young woman.

“Poor tarnished girl”

When people were not spewing scorn, they pitied the young girl with a swollen stomach. Mostly the older women who were also once ostracized.

“You will be my wife no more, shame on you, shame on your father!”

The angry spit of a man who felt entitled to the young tarnished girl’s body and mind.

ºººººº

One day a young woman, whom we will nickname Nina, was returning to her home from the market, bringing freshly sliced fish wrapped in a banana leaf and cilantro in a mesh sack. Her mother watched, a worried wrinkle on her forehead, as the eldest girl approached the home with feet dirtied by sand.

“Daughter” she pleaded “Do I need to beg you to never walk home by the riverside? ”

“It is still day out there, mother”

The mother slapped Nina’s arm.

“It observes even in daylight, disguised as an ordinary animal. You are older, a grown young woman, have I taught you nothing?”

Nina nodded, not daring to evoke her mother’s worry and anger. She could only reminisce on the days she could freely walk, play and bathe by the beloved river.

ºººººº

It was a small celebration, in honor of a good sugarcane harvest, but Nina was glowing with joy. It was the first time in almost a year that she was allowed to participate in night events, with the constant and rather irritating vigilance of the men, but her heart was still leaping with happiness. She dressed in a beautiful and simple gown, a stark contrast to her old and raggedy dresses she wore everyday.

“You look beautiful” the mother said “perhaps too much beauty, take the flowers out of your hair”

Nina did so, a single tear escaping her eyes. She did not hold her mother in a grudge, the older woman’s worried features revealed her fear: the entity loved beautiful women.

ºººººº

Nina still walked by the riverside. The dark sand dirtying her feet and the water shyly touching her toes. Oh, if her mother knew of this. Mother would tell father, and father was an angry man. But Nina felt no remorse, it was daylight, the entity could only observe as she strolled and spoke to the breeze. She wanted to see the river’s beauty when the sky was dark, appreciate the cold and dark water and the loud crickets and owls. She yearned for the night, she yearned for the river.

One day, Nina’s father enrolled in a long journey, taking his only son to be blessed in the deep sea waters. This occurrence left their home in the care of the women, which was never out of the ordinary. At least that was Nina’s prediction. Without her vigilant father and overly inconvenient brother, the young woman did what she always yearned for. She took the marriage band from her mother’s bedside table, tied it into her own wrist and quietly left her home, diving into the moonlit night.

ºººººº

The river was already a beautiful shade of dark brown during the day, but under the moon rays it looked obsidian black. Nina was mesmerized, sitting in the small pier with her feet in the water, it had been a while since she was there and nothing happened. Nina believed her mother’s marriage band was protecting her from the entity, just like the old woman from the fruit stand said. Nina recalled her conversations with the all knowing elder.

“A wedding band can protect you, it protected my sister”

Nina was pulled out of her thoughts when movement caught her attention. Ripples formed in the center of the river, the young woman was afraid it could be a bigger animal and quickly took her feet out of the water, but remained seated on the wooden boards. It was dark, but still lit enough for her to see something peek out of the water.

“It’s just a log” Nina whispered to herself “logs do that sometimes”

In the middle of the dark colored river, a slender shape of a person slowly arose. His features were beautifully illuminated by the moonlight and the silver shimmer seemed to move with him. He was gliding through the water, gradually revealing his nude and immaculate torso, his eyes were a stunning shape of blue that glowed in the dark ambience, his blond hair reflected as a halo of white. Watching him approaching was tantalizing, seductive and also strange. He moved as if he was a stealthy predator but also a sweet long lost lover.

Nina was breathless as he stood a few steps away from her, his lower body still covered by the water, but enough was exposed for her to insinuate he was completely nude. His bright eyes were pinned on hers, up close Nina could see how soft and also sharp his face was. He had a confusing beauty, almost inhumanly so. Nina wondered, in the brief seconds, if this marvelous man was the so called entity that stole young women and left them to bear his child.

“Who are you?” Nina whispered.

“I have many names” his voice was like the flight of an owl, perfectly soft and soothing.

“What name can you give me?” she said.

She should be terrified of him. She was certain it was the entity in front of her, nude as a newborn, too out of this world to be a mere man. Nina should do as her mother taught her, run from the entity of the river, never look at it, never speak to it.

“I give you the name of Armin” he said.

“Armin” she repeated.

His eyes shut momentaneously, his face contorted in a satisfied feeling.

“Are you the entity?” Nina asks without thinking.

He opened his eyes, they were so bright and blue, his flushed and plush lips curved in a gentle smile.

“One of my names, I believe, although it is not my favorite”

Nina was expecting him to be monstrous physically, evil on the inside, ready to drag her to the depths of the river. But he only stood there, calmly speaking with her.

“Are you going to hurt me?” she whispers.

Armin sighed as if he heard that before, as if it was a foolish statement.

“I will not hurt you, I will not stop you from leaving, I will not…do what they say that I do”

"Then what will you do to me?"

"Whatever your heart desires"

ºººººº

Armin only resurfaced as a man at night, he had told Nina he turned into a rose-colored porpoise during the day and swam through the deep waters. Nina was not able to visit him often but whenever the opportunity came it was an established event. Nina asked him many questions and he answered them all. Every visit, not even once, he touched her or even left the water. She started to question if the villagers were mistaken, if Armin was not this dangerous entity that seduced women and cursed them to bear his children.

“What do you mean?” she asked in confusion when he denied fathering all those children.

“Those poor ostracized women do not have my children” he explained “only some have seen me or shared words with me, and even then, I have never touched them”

“Then why are people so afraid of you?” she was angry “why would people fear monger about how monstrous you are when those women were never in your vicinity?”

“I do not know, but it pains me” he said “I am made to love, but I only receive fear”

Nina was growing sure that the entire legend about the entity of the river was just a lie. If it was all to keep the young girls under a heavy control, to free the man who got them pregnant from all guilt and responsibility out of wedlock. She bursted with anger that day, unfair that those dirty men were the reason poor girls were shunned, unfair that Armin, such a beautiful and gentle creature, was receiving the blame.

ºººººº

One night, it was a new moon and Nina could not see anything, stumbling into the sand and trying to walk onto the pier. She felt the wood boards beneath her feet, slowly walking towards the edge, as usual, but this time she walked too far right and fell into the water. The cold river felt like needles on her body and she desperately emerged, hyperventilating due to the temperature. Two hands laced under her arms and effortlessly lifted her up to the pier.

"Nina" Armin's voice pulled her back from the cold induced despair.

She was still breathing rapidly, clothes soaked and the wind worsening the sensation. Nina turned to her back, trying to soothe her breathing, and found Armin’s face above her. He seemed worried, holding her shoulders.

“It is a dark night, you should not have come”

As the shock slowly passed, Nina noticed that Armin was sitting beside her on the pier. He never left the water before but she knew he never wore clothes, and he was most definitely nude at that moment. The cold sensation on her face soon warmed due to embarrassment, she closed her eyes.

“Forgive me, It was the only opportunity I had” she said.

He nodded, helping her sit up by cradling the back of her neck and supporting her lower back. Nina thanked him softly, trying to stop her body from shaking and now noticing the mistake of wearing a white gown to see him. Covering her front, she tried to stand up.

“Can you do it on your own?” he asked and Nina nodded.

Her legs were trembling but she was able to stand and pathetically fix the gown sticking to her figure.

“I would accompany you home, but I think this would cause you even more trouble”

“I want to stay” she retorted “I might not have another opportunity so soon”

She was shielding her body from his view, but turned her face enough to stare at his blue eyes. His lips were curled in a small smile.

“I will never leave this river, you will find me here until the very day you die”

She knew he was an entity, but sometimes he seemed so…common, it confused Nina. He was so beautifully young, a man in his golden years, but Armin also carried eyes older than all the women of Nina’s legacy.

“I feel impatient” she whispered “I yearn for…”

“No” he said, face hardening “for your own good, do not do this”

She was even more confused. He was always so open to her visits, he must have known how attached Nina became. Why deny her what she wanted?

“You said ‘whatever your heart desires’ ”

“But not this” he said “I know how it starts and how it ends. It pains me”

With that, he stood up and jumped back into the water, not resurfacing for a goodbye.

ºººººº

It took her months to visit again, at least during the night. She still walked by the river in daylight, hoping to see a rose porpoise in the distance but never catching sight of it. She wanted Armin to know she was still there, remembering him, waiting for another opportunity to visit and speak to him in the dead of the night. Nina was being consumed by her desire, her life at home becoming more and more difficult.

“I have to marry her to someone before she turns into a complete shame” her father once said to her mother, Nina only listening behind the door.

It was true, Nina was too old to still live with her family. Her father was always angry at her adventurous spirit, taming her with hurtful words and blaming her mother for how Nina came to be. It was a matter of time until father sold her to a disgusting son of a fisherman or farmer, where she would be imprisoned giving birth to children after children, not having any free will over her body and mind.

Nina cried out of anger, so much anger that it boiled and spilled out of her. Fueled by the feeling, one night she cooked dinner with her mother, discreetly adding a concoction of valeriana on everyone’s portion while she served each plate. That night, with all of her family in a deep sleep, she ran to the riverside.

“Armin” she whispered to the river “please, do not leave me”

The water did not move, for long minutes she counted with the help of her drumming heart, the water did not move.

“I need to see you, I will soon be imprisoned to live the cursed life of my mother”

Long long heartbeats passed that finally brought her movement. The familiar shape arose from the water in a familiar grace, revealing Armin’s beautiful being.

“I am here” he said.

Nina did not think before jumping into the river, the cold sensation not as bad as the previous visit due to the summer time, but still cold enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. She kept swimming, trying to reach him, but Armin crossed the remaining distance at a fast pace. He took her hands to support her body in the water, but Nina embraced him instead. His hands were soft but his embrace was firm, his skin was warm despite being constantly in the water, he smelled of sandal and rain. Nina warmed her face on his neck, afraid he would reject her.

“You will shiver” he said, voice tickling her ears.

“I do not care about it” she whispered “I might as well die of the shivers, it would bring me more joy than the life I’ll have ahead”

“Do not say that” he spoke louder “do not say those things to me”

She lifted her head, gazing at his face so close to hers their noses almost touched.

“I am doomed, Armin” tears started to spill “He will sell me like an old goat”

His right arm left her back and cradled her face, wiping the tears. He cupped the side of her face in such a delicate manner, as if afraid his touch could break her.

“I wish I could help. I swear I wish I could free you from them” he said.

Nina cried copiously, her breathing unsteady and hiccups forming. Armin embraced her tightly, slowly bringing her shaking figure back to the pier. Nina sat there, with Armin still in the water. She could not even bother with her white gown sticking to her body, the sadness taking all of her shame away.

“Be sincere with me, Armin” her voice was still shaken.

He nodded.

“You said you were made to love” she started “do you feel love for me now?”

“I do”

“It is what my heart desires”

“I know” he affirmed.

“Is it why I find myself so drawn to this river? to you?”

He smiled, hand reaching into her face and caressing her.

“I can only reveal myself to the ones who seek love” he whispered back “It is my true and only nature, gift love to the ones who gift me their own hearts”

“It is unfair” she said “you were made to love but you can never have them”

“I know, It does hurt me to see all the ones I ever loved from the depths of this river” he said “I loved many, I lost all of them to life, just like I will lose you”

“I cannot do this” she said “I cannot accept my fate, Armin”

“What will you do?” he asked.

ºººººº

The man her father arranged to imprison her was just like him. An angry and rude young man who only saw her with the image of a sack of coins or a piece of land. She wanted to scream in hatred sitting beside him during dinner with both families, Nina would have taken pleasure in poisoning the entire food table but the presence of her mother and sisters stopped her from doing so. Instead she stayed there, not a word spoken or a harsh movement, playing the stupid engaged woman role. Nina had to pretend to not think, to not care about any of this, just like she did every day of her life. Pretend, pretend, pretend.

ºººººº

Valeriana was doing its wonders and Nina was already by the riverside, not bothering with the cold once she stripped her gown off and entered the dark water. She soon saw as he emerged from the deeper part of the water, gliding in her direction and welcoming her into his arms. His eyes were a dull blue color, it had been for a while, revealing the sadness crawling through his face with Nina’s decision. She nuzzled into his neck, a deep relieved breath leaving her lungs. His lips ran across her temple, leaving a soft kiss.

“Are you sure?” he said “there is no way to reverse this”

“I am certain, Armin” she whispered “I feel joyous, more than I have ever felt”

“The ones who love you on land might not understand”

“It does not matter to me” she lifted her head, touching their noses and curling her lips with the first smile of freedom.

Armin nodded, holding her tighter and locking her legs around his waist. His eyes sent her a question, a last permission, to which she nodded. Armin calmly and lovingly kissed her lips, slowly submerging with her into the dark waters.

ºººººº

Armin had mourned many lovers, to the point he had no tears to cry anymore. She laid there, lifeless despite the smile on her face. Her body was colder than it should be while he rocked her back and forth on his arms, the wooden boards of the pier hurting his soft skin but he refused to leave her until sunlight came. He kissed her face, cradled her body closer, hummed in grief, not feeling her heart and the love she emanated anymore. He cursed his existence like he did many times before, cursed his inability to deny his lovers whatever they wanted. Cursed her decision knowing it was her right in light of the unfair world she grew up in.

The first sun rays tickled his damp skin, announcing his need to transform. He let go of her naked body painfully, wanting to protect her dignity when they found her, but she had begged him to do otherwise.

“Let them find me here, Armin. Naked and a disgrace to their life, right by the river I love, let my spirit cry in delight”

Her words haunted him, but Nina felt so certain he did not have the courage to disrespect her wishes. With a last kiss to her cold lips, he jumped into the water and transformed.

#armin arlert #armin aot #armin x reader #armin x you #armin x yn #armin x oc #armin fanfic

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year

Text

Love in a Ghost Town--Part 7: Seismic Shifts (Finale)

Eddie Munson’s become content with working his day job. After the crazy stretching of events from 1983-1986, Eddie’s grateful for a little bit of normal in his life.

That is until one day, Valeria Browns shows up in town looking for a quick car fix. And she’s more than he might’ve bargained for on the eve of Valentine’s Day. Valeria is just trying to enjoy her Valentine’s Day weekend after many years of being perpetually single. She has her fun, but it’s never serious. Maybe Eddie can change some of that.

Older!Mechanic!Eddie Munson. 2003 alternative universe. BlackFem! OC.

The Upside Down doesn’t exist in this fic. But strange things do happen to the town of Hawkins, Indianna. Major Character Death that is not canon as a result of the non-Upside Down AU.

This chapter is from Eddie's perspective.

CW: 18+ content (Smut, oral--male and femme receiving, p in v); Pregnancy (unplanned); implied/past alcohol abuse

Edited Picture of Eddie by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Feel free to review my masterlist here

______________________

Eddie can count the number of times he thought the next day was never going to be his. Exactly 5,844 days of thinking the next day won’t be his--it’s not that Eddie is counting lately. He promised that when he made the promise to Valeria he’d stop. For all the times he didn’t show up to algebra or trig, he’s lightning at multiplication. Never mind the fact that he did the math on a calculator to double check himself. It’s not necessarily counting when he realized the last day he counted the days that the days kept coming was after Valeria came back into town and dropped off exactly 350 dollars in fifties, twenties, and tens. He stopped counting because he didn’t want to know how long it would be until he found himself in her presence again. Too much of an ache when he realized his life felt too settled--or perhaps he felt settled on the fact that he would live and die by Hawkins in the long run and he would never get out--and this ultimately settling could rob him of something more.

Eddie is selfish at times. He can admit that. It is a fatal flaw in his entire composition. He’d been selfish with Sinclair and his basketball years on the tail end of his final senior year by not always being flexible on Dungeons and Dragons sessions. He’d been selfish about Wayne’s funeral. Wayne told him to have just a small viewing and then cremate him. But Eddie spent what he had to give Wayne more. Eddie liked to tell himself he was doing his uncle proud--the mid range cost casket, the mid-range cost flowers. Nothing jaw dropping, but still more than Wayne said he wanted. Eddie felt like he couldn’t let his uncle go out in death remembered as the person who’d gotten too sick, spent too much money on not even getting better but rather only staying alive to afford anything else. The truth of it is simple. The funeral was for Eddie in retrospect. Wayne was always known around town as a good, decent, hardworking guy with a quick and quiet wit. But Eddie needed to see him go out with something more because it’s in that memory of Wayne’s body in a properly tailored suit, casket shutting on the still too young but hollowed face and lowered into the ground like good decent people go, that makes it easier for Eddie to sleep at night.

And maybe this particular moment, staring at his ringing house phone, knowing exactly who it is to call him at such a time in the evening, that Eddie’s hesitation to answer is self-preserving. There is a difference in being selfish versus knowing that the good thing is the scary thing and not choosing it. The difference is fear. The easy choices are made without much thought because there’s no need to question what comes after. The answer is already known. The answer comes like it’s supposed to.

Eddie answers though. He could never preserve himself enough around her. He picks up the yellow receiver on the fourth ring and settles it against his ear. “Hey, Val,” he greets.

“Hi, Eddie.” Her voice makes his innards feel like ice cubes melting in the summer heat. It’s not necessarily a rasp to her voice. But it is low, smooth in a way that makes Eddie feel warm on the inside. “How’d you know it was me?”

“When is it never not you?” Eddie returns, leaning into the wall. The yellow cord dangles around his legs. “I’m at a point where if it’s not you, it feels strange.” A confession--not that he hadn’t been trying to confess for a couple weeks now. He did miss Valeria and it didn’t shatter his whole day. It was an achy miss--a kind of longing he hadn’t really experienced since Wayne’s initial passing. Eddie couldn’t get enough of listening to Valeria in the evenings after work. He loved listening to her day; loved it when she asked about his day, picking up pieces of his job’s lingo.

Eddie missed Valeria in a way that feels sometimes so pitifully simple. He wants to watch movies next to Valeria tangled up on a couch, her buried into his side and swatting at his chest when he gives unnecessary commentary to the film. He wants to hear her laughter not through a phone, and wants to see her smile again--when she’s not playing coy or caring about how big her smile is. Eddie just fucking misses Valeria.

Lights fill the trailer. Eddie spins, listening to the rumble of a car cut out right outside his house. The curtains don’t fully shut out the light. When Eddie occasionally fell asleep on the couch, the thin barrier woke him before he really wanted to. “Can-can I call you back, Val? Someone’s outside I think and I’m not expecting visitors.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks,” Eddie hums. “Hopefully it won’t take long.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

Eddie hangs the phone back up on the receiver and ducks towards the front door. It’s dark out so he can’t make out who it might be or the car all too well from the window. Right after getting the blinds and curtains settled again, a knock rings out from his door. There’s no hiding it anymore. He turns the knob and like a visage, some sort of hallucination that Eddie can’t separate out from reality, is Valeria on his porch. The hand still on the knob twitches. Eddie can’t make heads or tails if he’s close to swinging the door close or swinging it wide open.

“Heard it’s someone’s birthday today,” Valeria offers.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Val? Is this even real?” Eddie’s own heart is thundering in his chest. He can feel it beating against his ribs. The edges of his vision blur for just a moment and then as Valeria speaks, his vision clears.

“I came to make a delivery.” From the top of her bag, she digs out a white envelope.

“Don’t--no. No more money,” Eddie huffs, releasing the door to pull her up the steps. His hands are flying to shove the envelope back into the slightly unzipped bag. He’d nearly thrown the cash she gave him back into a new envelope to mail it to her, but her note specifically said otherwise. Eddie’s sure that if Valeria hadn’t said anything otherwise he would’ve sent it all back. But she knew him all too well.

Valeria doesn’t resist Eddie’s work. She just pulls the tickets back out. “I heard there’s a show up in Indy tomorrow. Thought you might be interested in going.”

Eddie watches more closely now as she pulls the envelope back out and flips the lid. She produces two tickets. Eddie is gobsmacked. He’d been trying to get tickets--it was a match up of different bands on the road together-- and had even asked Valeria if she’d be interested. She’d returned that she’d been stuck with a shift that she couldn’t shake. After that Eddie let go of the romantic notion of getting one more weekend with Valeria. Valeria had begged, though, for Eddie to still do something for his birthday. He’d gotten dinner with Harrington, Buckley, Older Wheeler, and Byers. He’s sure the kids would track him down after work tomorrow for something to do as well for his birthday. Eddie felt at peace with the idea of merely enjoying the antics when the kids came up to get him. He’d happily accept the love when it came from them, attempting to make good on his promise. He is sure that he would give them a hard time about it. But inevitably he’d take the kindness, even if Eddie still didn’t seek it. Seeking is still much too risky.

“But the shop, I can’t--” Eddie counters.

Valeria slips the tickets into his hand, curling his fingers around them. “Jeff will cover.”

“How--you don’t even…?”

“I talked to Robin and Nancy who talked to Steve, who talked to Jeff.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Val. I can’t show up to this looking a mess,” Eddie teases. He wants to find something else--anything else--to rebut this act of kindness with. If he could come up with something more than who was going to watch the shop, he would. But in reality, Indy is only another two hours from here. The drive wouldn’t be bad. They could even visit some places around the venue if they wanted before the show. By the time it ended, it would be late, but not so late that the two hour drive back couldn’t be handled by one of them.

“Consider me your personal stylist for the evening,” Valeria whispers in retort.

Her eyes--deep and warm-- hold him steady. Like she’s begging him to not put up the front. The thing is Eddie always would at least a little bit. He’d always front, but Valeria would always be able to break him down. The stiff October breeze cuts over Eddie’s arms and he’s reminded that they’re still on his front porch. The door to the trailer is still wide open. God only knows what sort of bugs have flown in possibly in all of this. Eddie pulls Valeria inside, shutting the door softly behind him, a click of the lock sealing them firmly inside.

“You didn’t have to do this. How’d you get out of the shift?”

“I sacrificed some PTO before Thanksgiving in exchange with the assistant store manager. I bought the tickets months ago and then sort of worked backwards from there to get things all worked out.”

The living room feels more lived in as Valera slides out of her shoes and shucks her duffle back onto the single arm chair. The space exhales around her, like it too was rigid and waiting for her return. “You hungry?” Eddie asks, slipping the tickets onto the dining room table, next to his wallet and keys.

As he’s spinning to face her, Valeria’s slipping into his space. Her socked feet slide ever so gently over the floors and her head’s falling into his shoulder. Eddie winds his arms around her body with ease. His inhale is deep--pressing the smell of something sweet without being floral still decorating her skin. He wonders if it’s the same Shea Butter lotion he noticed she used or something related to it. But God, he loves it. He missed the scent on his sheets.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers against her temple.

“Hi,” Valeria giggles into his neck. The sound sends a shiver up his spine. “I ate on the road.”

Eddie hears the words, but he focuses for just a moment on the way Valeria feels in his arm. She’d never been small by any means. From their first sighting Eddie was well aware of that fact. But she’s always been soft against him. Valeria’s firm still because not even years away from sports can take away what genetics bring to the table. Maybe even firmer now than what was there before. She’d mentioned occasionally tagging along with Chelsea to the gym, but it doesn’t sound consistent. And all Eddie can manage to do is pray that his fingertips can absorb this feeling--Valeria’s warmth.

“Want something sweet then? I’m not much of a baker but Pillsbury does right by me each time.”

Valeria shakes her head against Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no braids this time. Her last visit she’d had her hair a slew of them, parted into squares. Now the tressesses fall like corkscrews down to her shoulders. The roots are flatter, look gelled or sprayed down and then curl down from there. Eddie’s not sure how to describe it. But he presses his nose into the foliage of her hair and inhales yet again.

“Are you sniffing my hair?” Valeria asks. Her voice is muffled now by the muscle of Eddie’s neck.

“Maybe,” he whispers. He is. He’d do it again. He’d do it forever if he had the option. “It smells tasty. Maybe I should take a bite out of it. Hmm. Think it could be a tasty treat.”

Valeria’s laughter echoes. As she struggles back out of his embrace, all she can do is laugh and laugh and laugh. Eddie adores it. He feels the sound down in his toes. “My hair is not for consumption, sir,” Valeria teases, plopping down onto the couch.

She fills the space, one arm resting up against the back of the couch. Valeria’s always spilled the space. But Eddie drinks in the sight, her sprawled out and laughing still. He could consume her. Not that he wants her selfishly, to have her so no one else can. But he wants her to swallow his heart in her arms. He wants to know the fullness in his chest like he knows the back of his own hands.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Valeria’s voice is soft, head ducked. Her hair--a dark brown with some honey highlights--covers her face like a curtain. Though she ducks her head, she still keeps her arms spread out. She still refused to fully stop consuming space.

“Tell me. Tell me how I’m looking at you,” Eddie laughs, reclining into the table, arms folded across his chest. He swears his body will totally evaporate if Valeria actually answers him. And he knows when he demands it, she will.

It’s silent for a moment. Her nails click--a nervous habit Eddie’s noticed. Valeria flicks her nails together when she’s gathering her nerves. This time her nails are painted a pearl pink with black spider webs across the fingers. Her middle fingers hold a spider though, a black window specifically given the red patch on the top. Eddie thinks--no, he knows--he wouldn’t mind getting caught in Valeria’s web. Hell, he probably already was. Everyone noticed it--Robin, Steve, the kids. They knew if Eddie didn’t talk to Valeria much the day before. He was a bit more clipped in his responses. Never actually grumpy, but never fully centered. Eddie always felt a little off kilter, like he hadn’t gotten enough rest by an hour or two, but knew he would still get through the day.

Valeria looks up, a new resolve settling onto her face. It pulls her lips down just a little into a pout. Eddie knows it’s never actually in displeasure. Her face usually scrunches up when she’s displeased. It reminds him just ever so slightly of Erica--they were both books that didn’t have problems opening up. They advertised who they were without hesitation. But Valeria’s looking at him, eyes slightly glazed over. He can’t tell if they’re tears or not, but the thought that they might be immediately sets his heart thundering.

Her words pin him back into his spot before he can push up and start over to her. “You look at me like you might love me. Like, love me differently than just friends do.”

Like you might love me. It was no question for Eddie though. He does love Valeria. He loves her more than he does the rest of his friends. He knew it a couple months ago. He didn’t want to say anything about it. Because it was ridiculous. They lived hours apart from each other. Neither one of them seemed to budge on making a move for more. Eddie didn’t want to leave the comfort of this town--even if it had caused him pain. Valeria most definitely wouldn’t be moving away from her friends to a town like Hawkins.

“I’m too chicken shit,” Eddie replies. “Because what would happen if I did say I did love you? What would we do if I said when I told you when you came back in June that when I said I missed you I wasn’t just talking about missing you in a friendly way.”

“Too chicken shit,” Valeria laughs softly, pushing up from the couch. “But my question in return is would you choose me? You said before you couldn’t choose. That it’s too scary to choose because inevitably someone leaves.”

Eddie’s not sure why he thought with Valeria they could just ride the wave. Maybe before--when she’d only come back once. But now she’s back twice. She’d chosen Eddie twice now and he still hadn’t budged. “You always know what you want,” Eddie returns. It’s meant to be a joke, but something catches in his throat when he watches her face drop.

“Do you know what you want? Are you ready to put in work? I feel stuck. All the time. And when I got unfortunately stranded, I realized I felt stuck because I was living this life on auto-pilot. After everything I’d done, seen, been through, going through the motions was just about keeping me alive, but wasn’t about me living. I want to live now. And I don’t know what that looks like, what it really means in the grand scheme of things. But I’d like to figure it out. With you. If you’re ready.”

That--that is the million dollar question. Is Eddie ready? Here, at thirty-eight, he felt like he should have a more readily available answer, but in the grand scheme of things, Eddie is still scared. He’s still the boy that lost his uncle--the last bits of family that felt like an anchor. He’s still the boy who got chased by this town, spilled blood for no real reason outside of other’s narrow beliefs.

“I don’t know who I am if I’m not here,” he replies. “I don’t know what it means to leave this--the town, this life. What if I’m just lost once I leave?”

“Those questions haunt me too, Eddie. You think I don’t think for a second about what happens if I leave my friends behind. Who’s going to ride by my grandmother’s to check on her each Sunday if it’s not me? What do I actually want to do with my life besides what I’ve already been doing? I don’t have these answers. But I’m trying. I signed up for fucking ballet classes. I don’t know if you remember but my ass is maybe too big for a tutu. I am haunted by ghosts. That statement feels more literal than not sometimes. But what do I do if I don’t try?”

“Your ass is not too big for a tutu. I happen to think it’s the perfect size for one.”

“Not my point, Eddie.” Her eyes narrow. “You can be scared, but you can’t not try.”

One of her flaws. Valeria has a very specific view of the world. It’s not that she’s wrong. It’s just that she fails to account for how fucking hard this is. She fails to account for a perspective fully outside of her own. “You don’t get to dictate what I do and don’t do, you know? I’m terrified. As ridiculous as it may sound. But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about what could be. You don’t get to assume.”

Valeria rests her hand onto his forearm. She tugs and Eddie hadn’t even fully recognized how closed off he’d made himself until Valeria’s silently pleading for him to let her back in. “Then tell me. What do you think could be?”

“I think about waking up next to you, in an apartment or something in a city that neither one of us has history in. I think about standing over your shoulder as you cook. I think about how angry you’d be at me for getting something red mixed in with the whites and turning all my work shirts pink but how ultimately you’d tease that pink might be my color after all. I-I think about if just in the other room that we sleep if it weren’t filled with my guitars and records and your stuff, maybe you get back to softball. I think about what if it had a crib instead. And I think about how scared I am. How much I could fuck up a good thing in a blink.”

Valeria blinks. Her eyes swim and then cloud over. Eddie can only watch for a moment but it feels heavy and his arms fall unceremoniously at his sides like they are suddenly filled with lead. Valeria’s hand goes with the action. She nods, a laugh falling from her throat. “Got it, Eddie. Got it. Envisioning a whole family but still too chicken shit.”

“What about you? What are you envisioning?”

She takes a step back and Eddie takes a step forward, but she curls her arms under her chest. Oh, how the tables have turned. The saving grace is that Eddie’s not going to push and when he reclines back to the spot where he was, Valeria stays in the half step between them. Her voice is clear. “Effort.”

It stings. He thinks maybe it was supposed to, but she’s right. Even if she’s never totally subtle about it. “Nope, never one to mince words, huh.”

“Never will be,” Valeria returns. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your closet since you can’t show up a mess.” She nods her head down the hall and then starts for Eddie’s bedroom.

He can only watch. Valeria’s arms are still folded, but she still carries on. Eddie hopes to God she waits for him. He wouldn’t dare call it a prayer, lest Valeria be the altar and the God he’s worshiping. But watching her, the sway of her hips, as she carries herself down the hallway more and more the darkness swallowing her, Eddie thinks maybe he should pray more often. Maybe he should get his fucking act together because no one can wait forever. But goddamn it, Eddie hopes Valeria does have the patience of a saint. That, Eddie realizes, is the truly selfish part. He wants Valeria to wait for him or at the very least come back to him. If she can’t wait, God, let her come back.

“What do you think?” Eddie holds his arms out. The pants have been sitting in his closet for years now--leather didn’t really seem like it was having its moment in the 90’s or early two thousands, but he’d been too proud of all the work he’d done to save up for them. So they sat in the closet and Eddie yearned for a day to break them back out. He’s thankful to all hell he got them a couple sizes larger than he might’ve needed them. There’s very little stretch in the material--some, but not a lot.

Valeria’s gaze is slow. She takes her eyes up his body. She has been the last hour of Eddie’s frantic flurry. Clothes flying out of his closet like a cartoon, Eddie hated almost everything he’s ever bought in his life. Occasionally, Valeria would give an impressed hum and then suggest what needed to change--bottoms that needed to go, jacket that was clashing. Now Eddie stands in his leather pants that he was sure would never see the light of day, and a white cotton button up that Eddie is sure was influenced by Robin. He unearthed his black cowboy boots from the corner of his closet to complete the ensemble.

Now, Valeria’s gaze travels up and up and Eddie can only wait. His fingers tremble just a little and he wonders for a moment if the soft click of the rings is audible enough for Valeria. Eddie watches her eyes. He needs her eyes to lock onto his again. Ever since she walked into the bedroom, she’d kept herself tucked away, legs pulled up to her chest. Valeria chews on her bottom lip. Just look. Please. Just look at me baby, please.

“You look good, Eds.”

Her voice is soft and when her eyes finally lift, settling onto his, Eddie exhales. Her eyes sparkle just a little. Something floats still behind them--sadness or maybe something else, but in front of that is a spark. Just what Eddie needed. If he could keep that spark alive, he could keep Valeria. And it’s insane really. Eddie is insane--no two ways about it. He’s insane about Valeria and he’s insane to keep toying with her. But fear--damn fear is a strong motivator. But if he can keep the spark in her alive maybe it would buy him a little bit more time.

“Oh, a nickname to the nickname. Damn, I must be special,” he teases. It’s not what he wants to say. He wants to beg. Ask Valeria not to let him go. Tell her that he just needs a little bit more time. But instead, he cracks a joke. Because that’s what he always does. It’s what always saves him. It’s the easy choice.

Valeria scoffs, resting her chin on her knees. “You’re special alright. Certifiable some might say.”

“Then I wonder what it says about you?” He crosses the foot between his bed and closet to the edge of the bed. One knee falls into the mattress and Valeria watches him the whole way. “Don’t you think there’s something to be said about you too in all this?”

“Yeah, that I’m certifiable too.”

Eddie leans in, holding his weight up on one pressed down fist. He tucks a little bit of Valeria’s hair back behind her ear. “What are you wearing?”

“Jeans, corseted top. Boots. Nothing special.”

“Let me see. We can’t clash.”

Valeria snorts. “You’ll see tomorrow. Also, I think you should go with the leather jacket.”

“That’s a lot of leather going on in one outfit, don’t you think?”

“Some might say that occasional indulgence is doctor recommended.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort at Valeria’s comment, head dropping for a moment. As it does, he feels some of the hair he hadn’t gotten secured well enough in the elastic fall down. It doesn’t stand a chance though. Valeria’s moving the strands back behind his ears just as soon as they fall, palms pressing into his cheeks. Her nails--a perfect addition of pressure when she scratches lightly at his bearded jaw. Eddie’s stomach quivers at the touch.

Eddie watches her tongue dart out to lick her lips. It’s hanging again between them--the tension. Eddie tilts her head back with just a gentle press of his palm. “Can I kiss you?”

He needs permission because it’s reckless. To tell Valeria he dream of what they could have--love, a family, and then to tell her that he won’t take the leap because he’s too scared is a coward’s move and it’s smothered in the stench of assholery to ask for more. Knowing he can’t give her what she wants. But still wanting it all.

“You’ll want more.” It doesn’t sound accusatory as it falls from Valeria’s lips. It’s factual. Because Eddie will. He will always want more.

“Is that a yes?” Don’t take what’s not given, but damn do I want you to say yes--the thought echoes and echoes until Valeria’s voice interrupts it.

“I worked all day and then drove down. Rain check.”

There and gone. Eddie nods, smiling at Valeria. He thinks it might reach his eyes, but even he can feel how it may not fully reach either, like the corners of his mouth and eyes hit an invisible wall. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. My bed or the guest bedroom--your pick of the litter.”

“Probably the guest room.”

“Probably? No one’s kicking you out, sweetheart. We can just cuddle, do face masks, kill the pint of vanilla ice cream I have if sugar cookies aren’t going to cut it.”

“You do not have a pint.”

“Go hop in the shower and find out then, hmm. I’ll teach you a thing or two about doubting me.” Eddie laughs and this time it does feel real as he pats her ankle. This time it feels like what they’ve always had when Valeria narrows her gaze but unfurls herself. This time it feels real when she smacks his ass. It’s a loud pop and Eddie’s not sure what stings more, her hand, his ass, or the lead in his chest. Just give me one more shot, he almost says.

Eddie changes out of the outfit, tucking the items back onto their respective hangers. He knows Valeria won’t be terribly long in the shower. Tucked back into the sweatpants and tank, Eddie settles on the couch. The shower still runs, but Eddie can feel the buzz, the anxiety creeping up under his skin. He’s going to lose it all. Everything he had and what could’ve been is going to slip through his fingers. There’ll be nothing to catch it, not even a coffee table with a pint of ice cream and one spoon.

“Where’s your spoon?” Valeria questions, freshly showered. Her skin still echoes with warmth that Eddie feels covering his arm.

“Must’ve forgotten,” he laughs, but opens his mouth wider when Valeria holds out a spoonful for him to have.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she laughs. But that luck feels like it’s running out.

____________________

It’s not a long drive to Indy. Eddie’s done it himself plenty of times in under two hours. He doesn’t even fuss for control of the radio. He’d rather listen to Valeria sing along to the songs, the Top 40 that she seems to keep on all the time. He’s sure that she must get tired of it. But he doesn’t get tired when she bounces in the passenger seat to Hey Ya. It’s maybe the second time it's been played since they started driving. It makes the drive that much more entertaining as Valeria chants, “What’s cooler than being cool? Ice cold!”

Eddie joins in on the second call-and-response because he can catch just out of the corner of his vision, Valeria motioning at him. It's noon now, sun high above them. They’d stop to get lunch at a place Eddie enjoyed and then get dinner at a little mom and pop shop that Valeria recommended. An even and fair approach to the impromptu day trip. The middle is sort of up in the air. Eddie has some places he likes to frequent--the tattoo shop he’s gotten all his ink done at, a couple of record shops. Valeria vaguely mentioned wanting to stop at a few boutiques. It feels remarkably normal as the cracks in the window allow air to seep through.

It feels remarkably normal, but Eddie knows that it’s not. Even as Valeria giggles at his stupid jokes over her plate of fries and a burger, Eddie knows it’s not normal. When Valeria drags Eddie into a boutique and he snatches a fun green dress and pleads for Valeria to try it on, it’s not normal. When Valeria saunters out in the dress, off the shoulder sleeves, ruffles, and cinched waist, and Eddie’s jaw drops, it is not normal. It’s not normal to feel his arousal in fingertips. It’s not normal to drop to his knees from the stool outside the dressing room.

“You’re getting that. I don’t care how. You are getting that,” Eddie breathes. But this isn’t normal because Eddie knows that something between them is different. But he’s going to pretend that it is normal. Because he wants it to be normal. He wants what they’ve always had.

Valeria takes a socked foot and presses her toes into his sternum. “Slow down there. Dress is sixty dollars. And I technically need one more size up.”

In the reflection now of the mirror, he can see how the zipper is still undone. She got it partially up but it does look like a squeeze. “XL?” Eddie asks, dragging his fingers over the bone of her ankle.

“1X actually. This one doesn’t stretch like I thought.”

Eddie arches his brow, fingers now dragging over her calf. He should be more worried about standing. The leather pants will not hide anything. But he doesn’t care. This is about keeping the little piece of normal going that they have. His pride be damned. “I’ll go look for it.”

“That’s if they sell plus sizes. I can normally get by on the extra large.”

“I’ll go look, yeah?”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Eddie,” Valeria demands. She drags her foot down his stomach, pressing right over his crotch. There’s no hiding it—his erection. But the press of her foot is just enough. It should hurt and it does. But it hurts in just the right way. He groans—long and drawn out but he doesn’t care.

“I am going to do so many stupid things,” Eddie whispers into her knee. But he doesn’t wait for Valeria’s response. Maybe she doesn’t even respond. He stands, careful to get her foot back to the floor and let her get stable. He prays this place has a 1X. He needs them to have that dress in the right size for her.

He darts back to the rack where he saw the item. Small, small, extra small, medium, medium, medium, large, extra large, extra large. His breath stops in his throat. No 1X. “Excuse me, miss,” Eddie starts, trying to flag down the one person he spots behind the register. When they look up, Eddie smiles and lifts the dress. “Do you happen to have this in a 1X?”

The woman glances down at the item. The seconds are long and Eddie swears his heart is going to leap out his chest. His grip keeps tightening around the thin plastic of the hanger. “Hmm we don’t normally sell plus size here.”

Of fucking course.

“But I think that designer just recently expanded sizing, actually. She works directly with us so we try to make good sales. Give me just a second!” With that the worker flies off to a back corner. Eddie watches, hearing the scratch of metal over metal. He leans out and notices a longer rack of clothes—one that might be used to wheel loads of clothes to be stocked on the floor but aren’t themselves racks to shop off of. But her fingers are quick and then she lifts up the green dress.

“Last one too!” the worker calls out.

“I’ll take it.” Relief isn’t the right word to name what Eddie feels. His limbs feel like they’re floating and then suddenly drop back to earth. He hangs the clothing item back into the rack and begins digging out his wallet to meet the worker at the register.

“One lucky lady,” the woman teases. She scans the tag before pulling the hanger out of the neckline. “How long have you two been together?”

Did it seem like decades to the outside world? There was no way others would be able to see how well they fit together, how natural the whole thing felt. What Eddie and Valeria had feels like lifetimes together. The reality is that they only had a few months, but there’s no way someone on the outside could see it. And even if someone could see it, there was no way that Eddie was going to burden some stranger about his own inability to get his life together. Eddie grins, “Feels like a lifetime but wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Maybe it’s too soft how he says it. The girl looks up at him, a pout settling on her lips. “That is so sweet. God, I’d kill for a love like that. When it does come, you definitely have to hold onto it.”

Eddie can only nod, passing along the bills for the dress. All the words are dried up on his tongue because he knows. As much as he didn’t want to fuck things up with Val, he might have already. A dress wouldn’t save them. Maybe nothing would save them now. But Eddie takes the bag, a smile plastered on his face. “The right person will come around soon,” he offers. Just don’t fuck it up like me. There’s no need to break the illusion for her though. Maybe she’d already suffered enough heartache. Eddie does believe in love for other people. She’d find the right person soon. It takes hope. And effort, but hoping is so much easier.

“Please tell me you didn’t.” Valeria’s laughter cuts through whatever rebuttal the worker had primed on her tongue. Eddie turns to see Valeria carrying the dress that was a size too small, glaring at him. Even though Valeria called the outfit simple, tried to shrug it off as something minimal, Eddie still couldn’t believe the sight in front of them. The royal blue of the top dazzles off her skin. The black jeans and boots only seal off the look in a way that when Valeria stands next to him, it makes him feel taller. Though she’s the one in the four inch platforms.

Valeria shakes her head as she smiles. She places the dress back on the rack, by passing Eddie completely before facing him again. “Eddie, please. It’s your birthday not mine.”

It takes him a moment to work his throat and mouth again--tongue drying a little out on him. Eddie shrugs. “My birthday was yesterday. It’s over now.”

“No it’s not,” Val huffs. “It’s not over until this concert is over.”

Eddie holds out his bent arm. “Too late. It is done. Where to next?”

Valeria takes a gentle hold of his crooked elbow. “Your pick, birthday boy.” Valeria presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Her lips brush against his skin as she whispers, “Record store?”

Eddie slips his free hand around her fingers. It reminds him he’s alive, in the middle of a clothing store. He’s not gone yet. Neither is she. Valeria’s not gone either. “It’s a little far out. You sure there’s nothing else you want to see on this side while we’re out here. We could just walk around?”

“Are you going to complain about your feet in those boots?” Valeria snorts.

“These boots were made for walking,” Eddie returns, voice barely above a whisper. His nose brushes against Valeria’s forehead. This could be his. This could all be normal--for right now, it is. It is normal. And it is Eddie’s.

“Sure, I guess. There’s a cool vintage shop I think around the corner. Maybe you’ll find some new rings.”

“Worth a shot.” Neither one of them moves for a moment, still pressed close together in their own bubble. But Valeria shifts, straightening up and that’s all it takes for motions to set off. They give their thanks and goodbyes to the worker. Valeria leads them to the vintage shop. The click of her keys on her hip and the heel of Eddie’s boot echoes. The sound precedes them. From the vintage store, back to the truck, to the record store, to the restaurant for dinner. There’s the click and clack of their synced steps. When the venue fills with chatter, others laughter bubbling around them, Eddie can still hear Valeria. Her breaths, the clink of her earrings when she bobs or turns her head. Everything is attuned to her. Because Eddie just needs to hold a little bit longer, a little bit tighter.

Eddie takes her hand when the songs slow down, thumb rubbing over her skin. Valeria squeezes in return. This is all you could ever need, Munson. And just as the thought settles, he feels the ‘but’. It’s the undermine--the thing Eddie tells himself so he feels better about his lack of action. In reality, the ‘could’ should be replaced. This is all he needs, but he fails to act on it, to make it a reality.

“...my drink? Edide?”

Eddie blinks, turning his head just a little to see Valeria looking at him, her lashes long and thick. The bass is still vibrating through the speakers. “What was that?” he shouts back to heard over the music.

“My drink,” she calls out. “Do you want the rest of it? I’m stuffed after dinner and the beer’s gonna disagree with me if I keep piling on more.” Her laughter just catches onto his eardrums.

Eddie holds out his empty cup and nods. “I’ll see what I can do for ya.”

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

Eddie shakes his head, unraveling his fingers from hers to take her cup and stacking it into his own. About half of it is gone already, it shouldn’t be too hard. But even Eddie will admit that he might not have space for it after the slice of apple pie at dinner. “That cup alone was half my water bill, it’s getting drunk.”

Valeria pats his stomach. “Don’t bust your gut though.”

“Ha ha,” Eddie returns. “A true comedian you are.”

“I know!” Her smile is bright and Eddie catches it even in the dimmed lights of the theater. His face warms as if he were standing out in the sun on a summer day. His rebuttal catches in his throat and he can only manage an eye roll before slipping his arm around her shoulders. She tucks herself back into his side, arms winding around his waist in the process. It feels like a cocoon--the shared warmth of their bodies. Eddie never has to leave this. He can stay here, with Valeria’s breath tickling just a little at his neck, listening to bands he’s loved since he was a teenager. It’s all this moment needs.

It’s an awkward shuffle out of the venue. Eddie doesn’t want to leave just yet, wants to soak in every last echoing sound of the instruments. Wants to feel his bottles rattle to a stop, but they’re at the start of the row just about and there’s some guys to Eddie’s left that turn and he knows they’re looking to get out. Valeria and Eddie should too. It’s still a two hour drive back to Hawkins. So he follows behind Valeria, climbing up the step. Once outside he stops, tugging on Valeria’s hand to pause her too and turns to stare at the building. They haven’t dropped from the curb just yet to head back to Eddie’s truck. The seal of the moment hasn’t been broken. Once they step out into the parking lot, the reality all comes back. But until then, the cocoon remains intact.

“Not ready to go just yet?” Valeria asks.

“Gotta soak it all in,” Eddie returns. Because it is one part ritual for Eddie just to take a few extra seconds to soak in the adrenaline, to let the thundering of his chest still slowly. Eddie tugs on Valeria’s hand.

“Yes, Eddie?”

He tugs again and she steps in closer. Eddie’s faster, cupping her jaw with his palms to bring her in even closer. “Have I told you thank you?” He knows he hasn’t and as Valeria goes to speak, he’s already talking. Mouth moving faster than his brain at this point. The words are just falling. “Because thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, kissing her lips with each phrase. The kisses get longer and long.

She had a piece gum at some point, Eddie can tell. Her breath minty against what should've been the bitter bite of beer. But Eddie doesn’t really care. He’s just lost in the softness of her lips. The way Valeria ever so tentatively lets Eddie lick up into her mouth and melts into his embrace. Eddie knows when Valeria pulls out of the kiss first, slowly and with pecks to soothe the separation, he’s going to thank her properly. Because that’s how the moment should be savored, down to the last drops on his tongue.

“You’re welcome, Eddie,” she whispers against his lips.

“Don’t thank me just yet. Haven’t thanked you properly yet.”

“Oh, I. No, I don’t--”

“Please,” Eddie interrupts, hands slipping from her face down to her waist. He continues on, soothing her sides. “Please,” he whispers. It doesn’t even sound like Eddie. The whine in his own throat sounds desperate and sure Eddie is desperate to have Valeria again, make her come undone on his tongue, his fingers, his cock. But he won’t push her. He’ll plead but whatever she says now will override any desire he has.

“It’s two hours back to your place,” Valeria laughs.

“You say that like I don’t know, sweetheart. But there’s motels around here.”

She shakes her head. “Gonna make you wait.”

Eddie groans, taking a small nibble at her plump bottom lip. “You fucking tease.”

“And I’m driving back.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie barks out between tufts of laughter. “That’s not fair.”

Valeria takes Eddie by the back of his head and brings his gaze to hers. “Never said it would be.”

The words bring a shiver to Eddie’s spine. But all he can do is close his eyes on the shaky exhale. Never said it would be. Eddie’s not sure if it’s a threat or a promise, but he likes the sound of both. None of this was probably fair but they were doing it anyway. Hell, Eddie would in a heartbeat. It may not be fair, but it for damn sure wasn’t going to stop Eddie.

Eddie slips the keys into her pockets, giving it a heavy handed pat. “Then let’s get this show on the road, hmm, darling?”

______________________

Eddie doesn’t waste time. It’s a pride of his to know in his older age that he doesn’t waste too much time--he’ll waste some, but never too much. The clocks are ticking up and past one in the morning, but all Eddie is focused on is Valeria. She sighs into his open mouth. He swallows it down. If he could tuck Valeria up under his ribs, he would. If he could carry Valeria in his fingertips, he would. Eddie drinks in every sound. Valeria giggles at the tickle of his scruff at her neck and it makes his bones vibrate. He could fall apart right then and there when Valeria laughs.

“What’s so funny huh?” Eddie laughs in her neck.

“Just tickles,” Valeria hums.

Eddie skates his fingers over the soft skin of her belly, biting at the skin of her breast. Valeria gasps at the sensation but he can hear the smile in voice and that’s all that matters. All that matters is the way when Eddie takes, Valeria gives. All that matters is when Eddie gives, Valeria takes. Valeria’s nails trail over the skin of his back and shoulders, to his chest. Whatever fear he could have about the scars always melts away. Valeria touches him like glass, like she can’t quite believe it’s him in her hands. And while it might seem frustrating, Eddie appreciates the tenderness. It reminds him that there are people who still care. There are still people who may want to consume but they do not do so maliciously. There are some people who may want to pour back. It’s a rarity, but Eddie knows he needs the reminder.

The fire in Eddie’s gut only burns brighter. It’s messy, Valeria dripping down on his chin, but he doesn’t care. Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling like she can’t get him close enough. Maybe she can’t. Maybe Eddie can’t be close enough either. He holds her legs down, knowing Valeria likes to buck. But this isn’t about something quick and dirty. This is about taking their time--sunlight and responsibilities be damned. Eddie’s going to drink down every drop.

“Fuck,” Valeria whines, high in her throat.

Eddie can hear the strain in her voice. He laughs into her thighs, leaning up to watch Valeria’s heaving chest. “You doing okay up there, princess?” Eddie lazily drags a finger on her inner thigh.

“Better than okay,” Valeria hums. “So fucking good.”

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear,” Eddie grins before licking another stripe up Valeria’s cunt. She quakes when his tongue hooks around her clit. And though Valeria teased him by making him behave on the two hour drive because she was driving, Eddie is also going to tease her back by lapping from her--slowly, let his own body feed from her pleasure.

Everything her body can take Eddie wants. Eddie doesn’t care how he gets it. He’s always been one up for an adventure. But he must admit, when Valeria drags him up her body, still heaving from her orgasm, and seals their lips together in a kiss, Eddie thinks it’s going to be a reprieve. He thinks maybe they’ll just take a minute or two. What he’s not expecting is Valeria’s push up, hooking one leg around his waist and then onto his back Eddie goes. It’s not without a laugh, not without his own tease and wiggle of his brow.

“Oh, what a view,” he hums as Valeria settles on his waist.

“How does it feel down there?” she laughs.

“It’s a cool 50 degrees down here, I’d say.”

“Prepare for a warm front.”

He wants to ask what specifically that means but the words don’t get off his tongue before Valeria’s teasing him with her fingers. Eddie twitches in her hand, anticipation of what she might do next seeping into his skin and dripping into the sheets. Valeria leans in, mouth opening but she just breathes. Right over Eddie’s face. He whines, not meaning to, and Valeria tightens her hand around his cock. She mocks his whine just a little, laughing. “Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” Eddie heaves out. “A pretty vixen has my dick though in her hands and I would really appreciate anything she wants to give me though.”

“A wordsmith, aren’t you?”

“I try.” The words all take every ounce of Eddie’s strength to get out. Valeria’s started to lazily stroke him. It’s wet, more than he’s sure his own precum but he doesn’t dare think about Valeria reaching between her own legs to lube him up. No, the thought would absolutely make Eddie blow his load in half a second.

The tugs increase in pace, tighter and a little faster. More and more until Eddie’s throwing his head back against the pillows. “Shit, shit, shit, Valeria, please,” he cries out. The pace doesn’t feel like it’s sustainable like something’s going to give, either Eddie or Valeria, but so far, Valeria grins against him. Maybe she won’t tire out anytime soon.

“Please what? Need full words, baby.”

“Please,” Eddie huffs. “Anything. I’ll take fucking anything, honey. Shit.” His toes are curling. Everything in his lower gut is on fire and he swears he’s never going to actually feel anything like this again. Nothing can be as good as this.

“Anything anything?” Valeria asks.

Eddie can only nod, eyes screwed up tight, holding her hips in his hands. She’s so close, hovering right over him. He can feel the occasional drip onto his length adding more slick to the mess between them. “Anything,” he whimpers.

Valeria sinks, a sigh leaving her lips and Eddie’s eyes fly open. “Oh shit,” he huffs. Valeria lifts up and then settles again, hips grinding. Her warmth spreads like wildfire. Eddie’s clawing at Valeria to get her to bounce on him again, to create a rhythm that they can both enjoy. But she’s content for the moment just to grind.

“Tsk, tsk,” Valeria mocks from above him. “Don’t be greedy.”

“Oh, fuck, easy for you to say,” Eddie returns. He wants more bite in the words, but he can’t get it out. All he can do is pant and pray. Eddie’s floating. He feels it before he can name it. But his head it gone from his shoulder and he doesn’t care that Valeria mocks his every sound. He doesn’t care that her teeth are bruising his skin. He doesn’t care that he’s lost all his senses. All that fucking matters is feeling the hot breath on his skin. All that matters is the way Valeria bounces on him, a greedy pace that makes him feel needed. How desperate it is just to be needed no matter the format, but Eddie’s beyond a rational understanding. There’s nothing rational left here as the room fills with the echoes of their moans.

“Holy--” The swear doesn’t get enough air from Eddie before he can cums. All the air leaves his lungs as Valeria works atop him, hips rising and falling back onto his length. Maybe Eddie got this whole thing wrong. Maybe instead of getting everything Valeria had, she was going to get everything he had. Maybe they’d always wind up like this, giving and taking and giving and taking all in equal measures. Valeria falls into his chest, panting in her own right. She shivers against him and Eddie wraps her up tight in his arms. It’s a give and a take.

“Do you want pancakes in the morning?” Eddie asks into her temple after they’ve cleaned up. It took a few minutes before either one of them got feeling back into their limbs but it did happen eventually.

Valeria nods, curled into Eddie’s side. “You got blueberries?”

“I can do that for you.” It shouldn’t be too hard. Eddie can wake before she does and go out to the store to get a cartoon or maybe it would be better to get a frozen bag. But either way, Eddie feels himself drifting into sleep thinking about Valeria in his arms.

___________________________

The thing about their goodbyes is that when they should be permanent, they never feel that way. At least not with Eddie and Valeria. There’s something underneath them that always says more, says it’s goodbye just for now. Maybe this time will be like all the others. Eddie holds Valeria in the doorframe, in the liminal space of inside and outside his trailer. “You’ll still call, right?” Eddie asks. He needs those. What would fill his days if not for work and Valeria.

“I’ll still call,” Valeria promises. She looks at him, eyes swimming and Eddie knows. He knows that things are shifting. It feels like an earthquake beneath his feet that one one else can feel. This goodbye won’t be like the others because the thing neither one of them demands at that goodbye is how frequent the calls will be. And maybe Eddie knew it was a good idea not to ask. Maybe even in all his disbelief he still knows the ultimate outcome. A week from the concert and Eddie only gets five calls. They’re just as long as they’ve always been, but not every day. Two weeks from the concert and the calls drop from five to four. Then four to three. Three to two.

Two months pass and it feels like a drought. The calls happen, usually once a week. And then they shorten. It’s passing on how they’re doing--abbreviated retellings of the mechanic’s shop and the store. It’s just enough to feel like it’s a substantive conversation but not what they used to be--what would take hours, only take thirty minutes tops. The bottom of the barrel becomes higher and higher in their conversation more and more silences that feel much too awkward than before. The air is thick. Valeria’s breathing has filled Eddie’s ears for the past two minutes and she keeps stopping and starting her sentences.

“Cat got your tongue?” Eddie teases. “Did you eat chocolate? You know you’re mildly allergic to it right?”

Valeria laughs. It’s the first time Eddie’s heard it in weeks this full and this loud. It makes his chest tight at the sound and he’s so fucking thankful for it in the moment, he exhales deeply into the receiver. “No, no chocolate, Eddie.”

“Damn, I was sort of hoping maybe you had so you could finally answer my question about what’s your favorite M&M.”

This bout of laughter is deeper and Eddie feels his body sag in relief. He’s on a fucking roll and it feels so much better. Eddie feels like he can breathe. “The answer is clearly the red ones.”

“Atta girl,” Eddie cheers. Their laughter is shared and soft. Just as quickly as the tension is cut it returns. Eddie reclines into the wall next to his fridge. He hasn’t forgotten what Valeria said at the start of his call. How he barely got his greeting out before Valeria was barrelling through hers. “You said you called because you had something to tell me.”

Eddie tries not to panic when Valeria agrees that she does has something to tell him. Because it was coming--the end. It was always coming and it marched so freely because Eddie didn’t do anything to stop it. He was too chicken shit to do anything. Even if the world was going to shift again at least this time he would have nothing left to hold onto it. Maybe the world would just swallow him whole.

“It’s-I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just like always, putting one word in front of the other, sweetheart.”

“But it’s--it’s going to change everything.”

It’s at that sound that Eddie pushes back up. He’s not sure if he’s bracing himself for the inevitable or there’s the last spring of hope he’s holding onto surfacing. “Change everything?”

“I’m-I’m pregnant, Eddie.”

Yeah, there’s that earth swallowing him whole and spitting him out on his face. But it’s the one fucking thing he needs. It’s ice water on his face. It’s a broken nose. It’s the time Wayne had to buzz his hair back in middle school because he’d gotten it so tangled up that no one could really get it back into order.

A reset. A hard one that that.

A wake up call.

“Do you plan to keep the baby?” Eddie asks.

“I-I want to, yes. But I know you don’t necessarily want kids.”

“I want this kid,” Eddie confesses softly.

“No, you don’t have to do that. Tammie and Chels are willing to help me out.”

“Val, I’m not just saying anything. I want to be there for you and for my kid. I love you, you know that right?”

The words are out again before Eddie can process what they actually will do and mean. But he’d already been dropped on his face once today, learning that Valeria was pregnant with his kid. What was a second drop in the grand scheme of things.

“But not like that,” Valeria deflects.

“No,” Eddie returns stern. He doesn’t need her to assume anything anymore. Assumptions had gotten them in this place—at least on Eddie’s part. He’s assumed his way into this mess but he wouldn’t let it get worse. Not when a closed door cracked again. It wouldn’t do that too many more times. “Exactly like that. I fucked up before. I’m not going to fuck up twice. I love you, Valeria. Do you hear me? I love you. You were leaving and I did nothing to make you stay. I didn’t show effort. I just wanted to keep things like they were and hope bare minimum was enough. It wasn’t. It wasn’t enough and fuck, I’m not doing that again. I’m not asking you to pity. I just need you to hear me. I’m sorry. You were right. Effort is so important and you’re important. And I’m sorry I let you go.”

“I mean I left. I wasn't going to hurt myself if you weren’t ready to commit. I know that sounds harsh. I was walking away, Eddie. But the thing I wouldn’t do is lie to you. I wouldn’t try to hide anything from you.” It’s not that it’s harsh. It just stings. Valeria had walked away—not all at once but things had shifted between them. Eddie didn’t fight the current. He had no reason too when Valeria asked if their relationship would ever reach for more he’d all but stomped it out. It’s not penance; it’s just a natural consequence. Every action has a reaction. “You are never one to mince words.”

“I’m sorry Eddie. I just wanted to tell you. You deserve to know.”

“Don’t.” Eddie knows that tone. A resolution she’s decided well before this conversation. “That’s still my kid. I know I messed up but please don’t cut me out of my own kid’s life.”

“No, no. I didn’t—I’m sorry. I meant it like you should know. You need to know so we can decide what to do next, ya know?”

“I’m a fool. I’ll admit. I am the court fucking jester but I—the thought that I’m a dad or going to be a dad. It means everything.” It’s the first time he’s thought about it like that. He’s going to be a dad. He’s going to have a kid—come hell or high water. He blinks back tears. Some fall over his lash line and he doesn’t move to clear them. “I can do this. I can do it right. I promise Val. I can.”

“I know you can, Eddie. I’ve always known. I just—I had to take you at your actions before. I still do.” Her voice cracks, the wet sound of her tears thickening her voice.

“I’ll show it. I’ll put in the work.” It’s silent. Eddie wonders if Valeria’s silence is bad but he barrels on before he can think too much about it. “How long have you known?” Eddie asks.

“About a month? Missed my period a couple of times and thought something was up. Took some at home tests. I go in two weeks to the OBGYN to see if I am for sure.”

“What day?”

“Friday, the 16th at 11 AM.”

“Text me the address, okay? I’ll be there. I’m going to be there for everything, I swear, Val.” He knows they’ll have to discuss if anyone is moving, which will mostly likely be him. He’d hate to uproot her in the middle of something like this. He could find another shop to work at. Eddie can and will do whatever necessary now to ensure he doesn’t let Valeria slip through his fingers again.

“I’ll text it to you. Promise. And I’m sorry. For dropping a bomb like this on you.”

Eddie giggles. Sure it is a bomb, and not what he anticipated when she said she had news, but at this point it is what it is. There’s no going back. “I’m sorry to have done it to you.” The smile is evident in his voice.

“No, you’re not. Admit it. Just fucking admit it,” Valeria laughs.

“I mean, if you’re yanking my leg. The picture of you pregnant is pretty hot so less sorry. But we probably should’ve been more careful.” He can’t remember if there was a condom involved or not. He was usually more on top of it, even if his sex life was inactive aside from Valeria. It was important to keep up with the expiration dates and keep them on hand. It’s not like Eddie can even blame the alcohol. He’d barely finished the second beer. He was in most rights in his right mind.

“It’s the antibiotics I was on, according to the nurses I spoke with. I’d just finished some two days before seeing you due to a root canal and they can make birth control less effective. As we now see.”

“Oh shit. I didn’t even know that. How—how are you? I mean this for real. I don’t want bullshit, Val. Not after what I know.”

Her exhale crackles through the receiver. The beats feel long—like stretched out taffy that keeps stretching and keeps stretching. He thinks the moment may never break and then Valeria speaks. “I’m scared, Eddie. I’m so fucking scared.”

Eddie spins, dropping his head into the wall, voice falling into a whisper as he speaks. God, he so wishes he was there with her. Not that he thinks she’d want him there immediately. But he wishes he could be. “Hey, it’s alright to be scared. I’m the biggest scaredy cat there is. Being afraid is okay. What’s got scared you?”

“Everything. We live in different cities. I have no clue how to take care of a baby. Morning sickness is a bitch. I’m starving but I can’t keep anything down. Haven’t pooped in a week. Pregnancy really isn’t all it’s glammed up to be.”

“Not shitting for a week and not being able to keep anything down sounds horrendous. It’s okay if you feel a little insane right now. Are you off tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“How far are Tammie and Chels from you?”

“They’re planning to come over anyway, tomorrow.”

“Okay, good, good. What time?”

“One, I think. What-what are you doing, Eddie?”

He shakes his head, though she can’t see it. He knows that she knows. It’s who they are together--sentiment of each other in ways that should be creepy. “Can you get water down?”

“It’s a fight some days. But you’re changing the subject. Eddie, what are you planning?”

“Nothing, Val. I just want to make sure you’re okay, since I can’t be there.” From the living room, Eddie catches the chime of his phone. It goes off once. A text and he thinks it’s just the address Valeria promised to send, so he doesn’t bother going to look at the message. “For your appointment on the 16th, would you-would you be okay if I stayed the weekend with you? I want to talk properly. Face-to-face.”

“Yeah, that’d be okay. I think it would be good to talk.”

His phone chimes again and this time, Eddie does look in the direction. Not too many people had his cell phone number. The kids did, Harrington, Buckley, Older Wheeler, Byers, and Valeria. Gareth had it for emergencies--namely about the shop. And no one texted him. He was shit at it--hated it in the way that he had muster through it when absolutely necessary but much preferred just talking to someone.

“There’s two addresses I sent. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess,” Valeria states. There’s a bit of something that catches at the end and from far away, Eddie catches a cough.

“You okay?”

“I think one of my neighbors is cooking fish and the smell is getting to me. It’s-” Another gag interrupts her. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

“Tell your neighbors I told them no more seafood. They can fight me on it.”

Valeria laughs--soft and mostly from her nose it sounds. “I’ll tell them. I’m sorry to cut this so abruptly. But it’s gonna get bad over here in a minute and I don’t think you want the sounds of someone vomiting in your ear.”

“I would. For you. But if you gotta go, I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I thought you weren’t planning anything, hmm?”

Eddie catches what sounds like a smile in her voice. He grins. “Just take care of yourself, Valeria.”

“See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie listens to the dial tone for several minutes after the phone call ends. A static in his ears but the longer he stays on the line, the longer he has with Valeria. Tomorrow, he’s got to get his life together for tomorrow. Eddie slams his phone back onto the receiver and scurries to his phone. The first message comes through and mentions Dr. Johnson is Suite 1121. But then he reads the second address, Apartment 23C. Tomorrow.

“Eddie?” Gareth answers on the third ring. “You alright, dude? You never use your cellphone.”

“Can you cover for me this weekend at the shop and the weekend starting the 16th?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Is everything okay?”

“I-It’s Valeria.”

“Val? I thought--it’s been months.”

“She’s, uh, well, she’s pregnant and I really have to be there. I’m gonna have a kid.” The sentence makes his face lift, a grin pressing at the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck, dude. Congrats! Yeah, yeah, I got this weekend and the 16th. No worries. If you need anything else, let me know!”

“I will. Thanks, Gareth.”

Eddie’s expecting--well, he doesn’t really know what he’s expecting when he knocks on Valeria’s door. Maybe she lied. Maybe she’d kick him out and tell him to fuck off. He saw her car, but he doesn’t know what Tammie and Chels drive well enough to know if he’s going to be greeted by the lot of them once the door opens. Either way, Eddie raps his fist against the door, waits two, maybe three seconds and then brings his hands back up to knock again.

Just before his fist connects, the locks click and the door swings open. Valeria stands, face a little hollowed, but still with the cascade of dark brown corkscrew curls. They’re pulled to the top of her head and fall like bangs against her forehead. She smiles, stepping back behind the door. The gray t-shirt displays a college on it; it’s a little baggy, but still fits her mostly well. “Hi, Eddie. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.”

“No, no, you’re not a mess,” Eddie returns, gesturing to see if he’s okay to come in. Valeria nods. “It’s early.”

Eddie’s hit with the small of something like vanilla, maybe something deeper too. And around the edges of the scent, it smells of cleaner. The apartment is bright, thanks to the blinds being open. The couch is dark brown, blue throw pillows. A white knitted blanket is thrown over the back of it. The wooden TV stand holds a decent size TV, DVD cases resting on it. Eddie slips out of his shoes quickly, noting her hardwood floors though she has a thick shaggy rug in the living room.

“You didn’t have to clean for me,” Eddie laughs. He slips the duffle bag off his shoulders and places it right in front of the couch.

“Needed to clean anyways. You hungry?”

“I-I ate already. Thanks.” There’s a couple feet between them, Valera leaning against one of her bookcases--there’s two slender ones on the side resting against the wall between the two outward facing windows. Eddie stands still near the door.

Valeria nods, arms folding under her chest. Her gaze doesn’t lift up to meet his. Eddie feels like he’s intruding, but she did agree to this. “I’m-I’m going to try and fail with some toast. Bathroom’s down the hall, first on the left. Whatever’s in the kitchen is free for you to consume. Feel free to watch whatever too.”

Eddie takes a tentative step forward, fingers just brushing over her forearm. “Valeria, can you look at me?”

She lifts her head, slowly. She looks tired--more so than Eddie’s ever seen her. Eddie cups her cheeks, thumbs brushing the bottoms of her eyes. It makes his chest ache. He hopes she hasn’t been like this for the entire month and he hopes it won’t last the entire pregnancy either. “That’s it darling,” he praises once her sight is level on him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” It’s a soft whisper but Eddie catches it all the same. Her lower lip wobbles and before the tears even fall, Eddie hears it. The truth of the matter is that she’s scared and while she had friends, it was still a lot.

“I’m happy to be here too. But you can let it out now, okay? I’m here.”

Valeria falls into his body, face buried into junction between his shoulder and neck. She shakes--like a leaf in a winter wind, Valeria shudders against him. “I don’t want to do this alone,” she sobs.

“You won’t. You won’t do this alone. I’m here. Tammie’s here. Chels is too. You’re not alone.”

“Promise? I know it’s stupid. But I—,”

Eddie cups be back of her head, brushing ever so gently at the hairs at the nape of her neck. If only he could take the shakes, if only Eddie could pull the dead out of her bones. “No. It’s not stupid. I promise I’ll be here for you. You won’t be alone.”

_____________________________

Eddie’s early. He knows that--knew it the moment he left his house at 7 in the morning. But he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. He woke around 4:30 in the morning, a thick heat consuming his chest. He turned the fan up, cracked open a window, but nothing brought in enough of a chill to allow him to drift back to sleep. When his clock ticked over to 6, he called it--showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and then got on the road. Being early be damned, Eddie was not going to show up late to this. Besides, the earlier he was the more time they had to talk. It seemed like all they did these days--talk, trying to plan out a future even when it seems so daunting.

The front door has become an all too familiar sight. It’s a little after 9 now so Eddie knocks--twice and then waits. Valeria’s usually not far when he knocks. Just like always, the door opens a couple beats later. Valeria’s face is a little fuller now. She can keep food down more consistently now. But still struggles with seafood and beef. Eddie’s just grateful she’s not barfing up everything she eats anymore.

“Come here often?” Eddie smiles.

“Apparently you do.” Valera waves him inside. He toes off his shoes and drops the bag down in front of the couch. “Sorry to make you do this trek so much.”

“No, you need the appointments. I don’t mind. Besides, I’m sure the guys at the shop are thankful to get rid of me for a couple days here and there.”

“As long as you’re sure. Hungry? I just finished up some french toast and don’t mind sharing.”

Eddie nods, finger tips warm and itching to pull at one of the curls. He resists though. The casual displays of physical intimacy are at a snails pace. They hugged, occasionally held hands, but it was clearly a line that Valeria wasn’t going to cross soon so Eddie does his best to respect that limit. “I can go for a piece, if you’re sharing.”

Valeria’s kitchen is smaller than Eddie’s, a byproduct of the way the kitchen is sectioned off from the rest of the apartment. But it’s cozy to be in--the counters are lined with kitchen utensils in holders, flowers (a set that Eddie sent a few days prior and then another set that he’s not sure where they came from). There’s plates and bowls set out with the french toast, a fruit salad made by hand, and bacon in them. “Bacon okay too?”

“Fine with me.” Eddie hadn’t eaten much before leaving, knowing Valeria would offer up something once he arrived. If feeding someone is a love language, Valeria speaks it fluently. Eddie doesn’t mind though. He’s learned to speak it--accepting the offerings, finishing off what Valeria swears she can’t. If the stress weren’t getting to him like it was, he’s sure he would’ve gained ten pounds.

“Everything okay? You look like you’re being haunted.”

Eddie takes the stretched out plate, watching the way her eyes assess him. They would always get each other. “Worried sick about you some days and making sure we can do this, feasibly, you know.”

“About that,” Valeria starts, sighing a little. Her own fork clinks as she assembles her plate too.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees when she looks at him. Her eyes say it all--we’re going to have to do something, make some sort of change.

There’s a moment of silence. Like neither one of them truly wants to crack open the surface. Nothing changes if they don’t go deeper. Valeria speaks first and the moment finally cuts loose from their shared fear. “I could move to Hawkins. Try and transfer to that GAP.”

Eddie scoffs, sliding his plate onto the dining room table before facing Valeria fully. He gets the gesture, what she’s probably offering, but the last thing he want if for Valeria to be miserable. “You’d hate living in Hawkins, Val. I’ve lived there my whole life and it’s not getting better.”

“Well, I don’t want you to sacrifice the car shop. You’re managing the shop. All your friends are there in Hawkins.”

“I’m not pulling you away from the people who can support you right now. You said so yourself you don’t want to do this alone. Tammie and Chels are your rocks right now and I think it’s important you feel supported.”

“You matter too, Eddie. I’m sure Steve and Robin are keeping you sane right now.”

“They are,” he admits. He talked to either one of them at least once a day. Buckley is ecstatic at the prospect of a tiny human addition. But Harrington, Harrington was keeping Steve on the straight and narrow. There were many times Eddie found himself in the aisle in the grocery store staring at the bottles. His fingers itched to grab one, thinking if he could just forget the fear and the anxiety it make things so much easier. Harrington’s cellphone number is etched into the tips of Eddie’s fingers from how many times he’s dialed it. Eddie doesn’t really want to drink. He just wants something to take the edge off. Drinking was stupid though.

“Is that why you’re building muscle? Challenging Steve now?”

Eddie lets himself clamber backwards into the edge of the dining room table at the jab to his bicep. He hisses like it hurts, though it doesn’t. “Be careful. I’m sensitive.”

Valeria snorts, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. “Need someone to rub your back?”

Eddie lets the tuft of laughter fall from his lips. “Harrington’s suggested I go to the gym when I feel…out of it.”

“Out of it?”

Eddie shrugs, pushing up to help her. He closes the cabinet for her and pulls out the jug of orange juice. “Out of it…you’re not the only one scared. I worry I’m going to fuck it all up. When that happens, I think about doing stupid shit.”

“Stupid shit? Eds, I don’t--you can talk to me.”

“It’s not that I think about drinking myself to death. But just. It’s stupid.”

“So you think about drinking? When you’re out of it?”

Eddie nods at the question. “Dad was an alcoholic. Never violent. Just…couldn’t function without it sometimes.”

Her eyes widen, the realization falling deeply onto her face. “No, no, you talk to me, Eddie. Okay? You call me. I don’t care what time it is. You call me, okay? Please.”

Eddie wants to recoil. Her fingers are cold from the juice, but her hold is firm and Eddie can only nod. “I’ll call you. When it gets bad.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Valeria nods. Her eyes stern, but her runs her hands down Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“I don’t--it’s just I know you’re dealing with a lot. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m piling on.”

“You don’t. It’s a me thing.” Because it’s Eddie’s own anxieties. He knows he could talk to Valeria, but he doesn’t want to add on when she may not have the capacity. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“You’re not a burden, Eddie. A pain in my ass, but never a burden.”

“Sometimes I forget there’s a difference.” Eddie’s not sure where that came from, when the lines had gotten blurred from him. But it’s the truth. He’d spent so much time trying not to be a bother, that he couldn’t tell when people wanted him around sometimes.

Valeria steps in closer, body pressing flush into his. There’s just a few inches between their faces, but Valeria closes that gap too, pressing her forehead into his. Eddie encases her waist with his arms. It’s a slightly strange feeling, the slight bump of her stomach pressed into his. “Then let me remind you of the difference, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, eyes fluttering close. Valeria goes to pull away, but Eddie squeezes. He doesn’t want to let her go just yet. “Can I have one more minute?”

“Of course, you can.”

Eddie misses this, holding her close. He’s missed the way she slots against him, head tucking into his shoulder. They’re like puzzle pieces slotted together to bring to life a fuller picture. Her breath tickles against his neck, but Eddie leans into the feeling. It lets him know she’s still real.

“Did you get a new body wash?” Valeria asks after a minute.

“Is it bad?”

“No, no, it smells really good.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, it’s new.”

“Smells good enough to eat.”

“No, that’s what your french toast is for. You can’t make our baby a cannibal without their consent first.” Eddie noses her temple. She still smells the same. Always has. It’s a true solace. When he leaves, his clothes still smell like her and he can carry the scent for a day or two longer in his jacket and hair of the candles she burns, the perfume she wears on occasion. Eddie cups the back of her head, lips pressing into the warm skin of her forehead. “We’ll make it, right?”

“We have so far. I have faith,” Valeria returns. There’s no hesitation in her response and Eddie thinks maybe he can believe that too. They resume their breakfast, hands finding each others under the table, sitting shoulder to shoulder instead of across from each other.

“Do you think moving into Indy is a good idea?” Eddie poses. He’s situated at Valeria’s vanity as she scraps through all the items in her closet. She pulls out a sweater--baby blue, and holds it up in front of her. “It’s cute.”

Valeria huffs and throws it back into the closet. “You said that about the last top. And I don’t think it’s a bad one. When are you thinking about it? My lease is up in April, another two months.”

Eddie’s situation was a tad more complicated. He’d paid off the mortgage on the trailer a few years ago, but he was still paying the land rent. If he wanted to move, he’d have to find a way to sell the trailer. Which wouldn’t be terrible, but it would be tedious. “Is this about the sweater or something else?”

“I don’t feel like any of my clothes fit right.”

“You’re growing a baby. Things are going to grow and change for a little bit. I really do think the blue top is the right one.”

Valeria nods and pulls it back out. “So Indy? You’re sure about that?”

“It’s close enough to home. Neither one of us has bullshit from our hometowns toto worry about. Still close enough that folks can visit.”

“What do you think about Franklin? Closer to Indy, but maybe not as crowded?”

“Oh, God, babe,” Eddie fakes a gag. “No. We are both not built for a town like that.”

Valeria snorts, slipping into a pair of black leggings. “Okay, fair. Franklin may not be our cup of tea. But you sure you want to dive into city life? A small town boy like yourself,” Valeria’s voice dips into a slight, albeit slightly off Southern twang.

Eddie pushes up, noticing a slight struggle Valeria’s diving into with the pants. He kneels in front of her, hand coming to her knee to settle her squirming. Eddie pulls the excess fabric up and off her heels. He then stands to help get the rest up her hips. “I think it’s time for the small town boy like me to get the hell out of there.” Satisfied that the pants are up and straight, he taps the end of her nose. “Gold earrings?”

“When do I ever go for anything different?”

“Never. Can I choose?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

Eddie heads over to the vanity, fingers tracing over her jewelry. “Leave the shoes alone and let me get them please.” He spots her glare in the mirror and laughs as she settles onto the edge of the bed. It’s not a hard choice, Eddie’s always gravitated to simple. But he still reviews each pair of earrings before settling on a pair of gold holds with her name written on the inside of them.

“You know I’m not so pregnant I can’t do this by myself.”

“And do I look like I give a shit?” Eddie returns, grabbing a pair of slip on Vans for her.

“Not in the slightest,” she sighs. “So Indy?”

“If you’re okay with it?” Eddie counters, helping her into her shoes. “No, let’s go. We have an appointment to make. A baby to see!”

Valeria takes his outstretched hands. “I think it’s a boy.”

“Nah,” Eddie laughs. “Totally a girl.”

_____________________________

She told him he could do this. Yet his fingers still shake. His body tells him to call Harrington like he always does when it gets like this. But he watches Valeria’s name in the phone in slightly blurry vision. The grocery store is a shitty place to have a moment like this, but it’s where Eddie finds himself. In another month Valeria’s lease will lapse. She’s already started selling some things in her house. Eddie’s still hasn’t found someone to take over the trailer. Hasn’t started packing up anything. They have a place they like in Indy, but are on the waitlist until June. In the meantime, Valeria’s taking a position at The GAP in the mall and Eddie’s transitioning Gareth and Jeff to take over the shop.

But Eddie hasn’t done a goddamn thing to get movement on the trailer--packing, selling or otherwise. And fuck the paralysis that comes with the fear. Before Eddie can over think it too much, he presses SEND. The phone rings and rings in his ear. “Shit, shit, shit. She’s probably at work, Munson. She told you she had a shift.”

“Eddie? Everything okay?

“Oh, thank fuck,” Eddie exhales.

“Baby? What’s going on?”

“Tell me to walk out of this grocery store, please. I don’t need it.”

“Eddie, get out of that aisle, please. Okay. It’s okay if you’re out of it. If it’s too much, but you don’t need anything on that aisle.”

One step. That’s all he gets. But if he hooks a left at the end of this aisle, he’ll run into the cookies. “I’m scared.”

“Why? What are you scared about?”

“We’re supposed to get the new place in June and I haven’t done anything. Nothing. Jack fucking shit. I’m just…stuck right now.”

“Want to vent or want some help?”

“I think I need Jesus and this is coming from me.” It’s not an answer. Eddie knows that, but it’s okay. “I just. I only got one step. There’s so many more.”

“Give me one more. One step is perfect. Just one more.”

He does. He takes another step away from the aisle. “What should I do? Just talk to me. Scream. I don’t care.”

“Enlist Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Erica. Yes, tell her I told her to be there because she will keep you all in line. Start just with your closet. What are clothes you don’t need anymore? Clear that out. Just one room at a time. You won’t be able to get through it all. It’s just a start.”

“But then who takes over the trailer? It’s paid off.”

“I’m sure the kids are probably feigning to get out from the parents. Maybe two of them are willing to take it over.”

Eddie gets to the end of the aisle and stops. It makes perfect sense. All he needed to do was take it in increments. Tiny pieces at a time. And while Harrington, Buckley, Wheeler and Byers all had places of their own. It didn’t meant the kids wouldn’t be looking for something else. The boys would probably enjoy having their own space. While Mike was still settling in from his post graduation life, Dustin and Lucas could forge something of their own. “Woman, you are a fucking genius. God damn.”

“You going to work out now?”

“I need to bypass the cookie aisle first. But why? Why are you saying it like that?”

“Nothing, no reason! But you might be able to transfer the paid off trailer to a couple of the kids and they can take over.”

“No, no, no. We are not bypassing the fact that you totally have the hots for my newly deeper defined biceps.”

“No, I don’t!” Valeria huffs. It’s indignant, fully.

“Oh, yes you do, sweetheart. Yes, you do,” Eddie teases. He continues on, waving at Dustin who waves in return. “Just admit it, love. Just fucking admit it.”

“Eddie, I do not have the hots for your new deeper defined biceps or large pecs. Absolutely not.”

Eddie’s grin is deep. Outside in the fresh air, he feels like he can breathe again. “Yes, you do. Let me hear you say it.”

“Nope. Nope, this is about you.”

“Yes, it is about me. Flatter my ego, lovebug. Please.”

Valeria’s laughter is big and loud. Eddie’s chest surges with pride at the sound. “Eddie, no. I’m not going to admit that pregnancy hormones are raging. Nope, nope, nope.”

“Are they raging my dear?”

“Maybe,” Valeria grumbles. “But again, this isn’t about me. This is about you. You don’t have to have it all sorted right this second. We can take it one piece at a time.”

Eddie climbs into his truck, phone pressed to his ear by the work of his shoulder. “Yeah, one piece at a time. Okay, I can do that. I can gather the troops for the weekend. You don’t have anything this weekend either?”

“No, no, next appointment is the week after.”

Eddie nods. “Got it. It’s on my calendar already. The weekend, cleaning out my closet. Yeah, yeah, doable.”

“You can call me while you do it too. If that’ll help.”

“I’ll get distracted, with you on the line. Never get any work done.”

“I expect a report though. Itemized. Head to toe.”

Eddie nods. “I-I can do that. Thank you, Val.”

“You’re so welcome, Eds.”

“Enjoy the rest of your shift knowing I’m going to be very sweaty in the gym.”

Valeria groans. “Fuck you. Enjoy the workout. I’ll call you once I get home okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, sugar. Talk to you then.”

“You’re getting your rocks off on this, aren’t you?” Valeria asks through a laugh.

“Only just a little,” Eddie answers. “Only just a little. I like making you sweat.”

“Just for that. The next time you visit, you’re rubbing my feet and you don’t get to control the remote.”

“Oh!” Eddie huffs. It's a ritual now during his visits. He sets up her foot spa--that he bought unnecessarily--and gives her a pedicure and foot rub. In return, Valeria gets to bliss out for a little bit and she forfeits all power over the remote. Eddie only teasingly stated that he’d only keep it up if he could control the remote to the TV and the color of the polish. Valeria freely relinquished the control. “That’s so not fair! If you tell me I can’t pick out the nail polish color, I’d rather you just take me out back and shoot me.”

“I’d never go that far, Eddie. Love you.”

He freezes, air catching in his throat. “Valeria.”

“I know what I said, Eddie. It’s not the pregnancy hormones. I’ve always loved you.”

“I-I don’t feel like I’ve earned that back. And I know it’s ridiculous but-”

“Eddie, you’re going on a spiral. Love isn’t earned. Trust is, but not love. You have never had to earn love and anyone who has told you otherwise is a dispshit. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I have always and will always love you. It took me a while to trust, to take a leap. But you’re too stinkin’ cute not to love.”

Eddie blinks. It’s only with the action that he realizes there are tears in his eyes. Snot drips down his nose and he sucks it back. He uses the back of his hand to clear his face. “I’m glad you trust me again. And I’m so fucking floored to hear you say that. To hear you say you love me. I love you too.”

“I know.” From faintly behind her, Eddie catches Valeria’s name called out. She sighs. “I’m sorry, Eds. I gotta go. They need up at the registers for something. I took my headset out to talk.”

“Yeah, no, no. I get it. Go. I’ll be here.”

“I’ll call you here soon.” Their goodbyes are clipped and Eddie drops his head to his steering wheel. I’ve always loved you. Oh even if the rest of the day is a disaster, Eddie’s never going to get a higher high.

_____________________________

“She’s so stinkin’ tiny!” Eddie whispers. Valeria laughs, but Eddie doesn’t care, too caught up in the little girl in his arms. He’s repeated the mantra god only knows how many times since they brought her home. In the hospital Eddie wanted to keep his mind on getting Valeria through delivery. It’s a type of pain that he could never fully comprehend but sounded and appeared to be exhausting. Now Eddie can marvel. He can watch his baby girl’s face in blatant awe.

“She doesn’t eat like she’s tiny though,” Val snorts.

Eddie nods, taking the pad of his finger to trace her cheek. Denver Edith Munson in his arms--all seven pounds and 3 ounces of her. Though he’d argue there were built a few more ounces than before on her. She’s much too pale right now to see who she really will take after, but for the moment, Eddie sees the slope of Valeria’s brow and his nose. His entire universe feels wrapped up in a white and pink blanket. Denver’s eyes remain unopened but she has the cutest scrunch of her nose. There in the small dusting of freckles on her cheek, Eddie can see his heart resting in the constellation. A centimeter really in the grand destiny of the world but his little girl holds the essence of his heart on that one little cluster.

“I’m going to teach you all sorts of things, kiddo, okay? Stuff that will give your Mom a heart attack, but it’s okay. She’ll go easy on you. You’ll probably be sick of me sooner rather than later. But god, I’m going to be there for everything, alright? Every single thing. Giant poops. Skinned knees. Boyfriends. Your first drink. License. I love you, you know? Love you so much.”

A soft grunt greets him in return, Denver’s face pinched with the nose.

“Maybe that giant poop is sooner than you think,” Valeria teases.

“Oh God, I can handle this. Totally. I can totally handle this,” Eddie mutters. He’s not freaking out. Never, it’s just poop. Plenty of people change diapers. It can’t be that hard. He’s watched Valeria do it. Nurses helped in the hospital. It’s not like it’s defusing a bomb. Changing a diaper is a reasonable task and something anyone can handle.

“Want to tag me in?” Valeria asks.

“No! Absolutely not. You need your rest.”

“Start by getting a clean diaper, honey.” Valeria directs from the couch, watching from above.

Eddie assembles all the necessities-- the changing mat, a fresh diaper, wipes, trash bag for the soiled diaper, a little bit of baby powder. “The poop guardian angel,” Eddie teases, popping the secure tabs on the soiled diaper.

“Well, given that you have the new diaper upside down, I think it’s warranted.”

Eddie balks. “I haven’t even gotten her cleaned up yet, what are you on?”

Valeria grins. “Just making sure you’re paying attention to the lecture.”

He flicks her off, and Valeria can only laugh. The sound bounces in their living room--a bright summer day in Indy surrounding them. There’s still some clouds in the sky and given how dry it’s been in the summer, there’s an expectation that the summer showers will come in heavier in the following weeks. The thunder still rattles Denver--the sound of her cries still breaking Eddie’s heart. Together they’ll get through though. Always together.

Positive that Denver’s fresh top to bottom, Eddie slides the new diaper under her. “Now, we secure the tabs, and there! Bada bing bada boom! Easy peasy!” Eddie rubs his nose over Denver’s. “Do you feel secure, madam?”

A snort sounds from around them. It’s soft and sounds like it almost didn’t fully come out. “You’re such a dork.”

Eddie grins, looking up from Denver to Valeria. Her eyes are closed and he knows soon she’ll be drifting off for a nap. Not that he minds. There’s just dishes left and the laundry going in the dryer. Things he can surely handle to give Valeria a little extra sleep. “Your dork, though.” He nods down to the gold band on her finger. Not that she can see the motion. “Stuck with me.”

“I tossed out the receipt. I chose this,” Valeria grins, lifting her hand.

Eddie’s glad she did. It hadn’t been easy but the effort had been worth it in the end. “Perfect. Because I wasn’t going to go quietly into that good night.”

“I most certainly am. Right to sleep.”

“Can you spare me just two minutes while I go wash my hands?”

“Absolutely I can.” Valeria’s quick to scoop Denver up, slating her against the expanse of Val’s chest. Eddie’s knees pop as he stands. Surely being nearly 40 would do that but he’s met with barely concealed giggles. He lets it go with an eye roll, turning to head to the bathroom. “Hate when you walk away but I love to watch you go,” Valeria teases.

“You can’t steal my line! Totally unfair!”

Eddie’s only in the bathroom for a couple minutes. Nothing long at all. But when he returns to the living room it’s quiet. Valeria’s light snores make barely a dent over the hum over the A/C unit. Denver is tucked under Valeria’s chin, one of Valeria’s hand on her back. The dryer shrills and Eddie shuffles down to the closet. He’s quick to shut off the noise and looks back down the hall to see if it’s awakened them. But it doesn’t seem to as they still rest comfortably on the couch. That’s a sight that Eddie thinks he would never want to get used to, so he’s always struck with a sense of awe and wonder each day.

“Leave the fitted sheet, I’ll do it.”

Eddie giggles at the gruff sound of Valeria’s voice. “Thanks babe.” He should’ve at least expected Valeria to stir at the sound.

“I swear I’ll be up in a minute. Just-just checking my eyeballs for cracks.”

“Keep checking them for as long as you need.”

Tagging: @munsonology @avidreader73 @2clones-1kamino

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