#before 5.7 now or never | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 6 months ago

Text

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a terrible day at work, you find an unexpected dose of comfort in an absurd late-night conversation with your coworker.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, you make a huge mistake at work (unspecified) for which you get seriously chewed out by hotch, too many beds trope, ridiculously long considering the entire plot revolves around a single conversation, gets kinda wild at the end, spencer hits his head, but it’s nothing serious

𝐚/𝐧: the ending inspired by a situation from my life, but don’t worry, my head is fine now (in the general sense of the word) (no one kissed my forehead...) i recommend reading it in bed before sleep <33

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.7 k

"Hotch, but I thought—"

"It doesn't matter what you thought," your boss replied in his typical, emotionless tone, which in this particular situation sent a distinct chill down your spine. Every word he uttered felt like a frozen dagger, driven straight between your ribs and left there, while the coldness spread across your skin in the form of goosebumps. "What you did was not only reckless but also undermined all of today’s hard work by the entire team. They put tremendous effort into locating the unsub and cornering him at that specific location, and because of your decision, he managed to escape. Every additional day this man remains free could cost someone their life—an innocent person."

You stood before him in an empty parking lot across from the hotel where your entire team was staying. It wasn’t exactly the typical setting for delivering a reprimand, but since you were far from the office, there wasn’t a better option at hand. And while you were teetering on the edge of tears—tears you were desperately holding back to avoid appearing like a weak little girl in his eyes—you were grateful for one thing. Grateful that he had chosen to chastise you in private. One-on-one. Away from everyone else.

A moment of silence fell between you, and you tried not to lower your head like a chastised child—but that’s exactly how you felt. Not just ashamed, but overwhelmingly guilty. As someone who had only recently joined the BAU, you’d never made such an egregious mistake before. A mistake that could cost someone their life. Deep down, you had clung to the naive hope that this moment would never come. That if you followed the instructions of those more experienced than you with feigned confidence, something like this could be avoided.

But reality had placed you in a completely different position—one where, for a brief moment, the weight of everything rested squarely on your shoulders. You failed, and the unsub escaped.

The wind around you blew with a certain bitterness, tugging at your hair. It drowned out the sound of your heavy breathing, your racing heartbeat, and the loud gulp as you swallowed. Hotch, saying nothing, studied you with a measured gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted allowing you into this job.

“I wanted you to be aware of that,” he said, his tone less harsh now but tinged with a certain disappointment that only deepened the guilt gnawing at you. He nodded, signaling you were free to go. “That’s all I had to say.”

He walked away, and watching his figure dissolve into the darkness in such a dramatic manner, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The laugh immediately turned into the beginning of a sob, which you quickly stifled, waving your hand in front of your face. You stood there for a moment, your feet seemingly rooted to the parking lot, as though the concrete were still fresh, hardening around your shoes.

In your experience, failure almost always came hand in hand with a sense of vulnerability, transporting you into a completely different, weaker body, one without any shields. All the achievements of the past few years, including making it into the BAU at such a young age, seemed to melt away, and once again, you were nothing.

You knew you couldn’t stand there all night, but in a way, it felt safer. In the motel, you might run into someone from the team. You might accidentally meet their gaze, and you’d see the disappointment in their eyes. After all those weeks of trying to prove your worth to them, of showing that you even belonged in this job, the last thing you wanted was to face that look.

To muster some courage, you took a deep, slow breath. You needed to slip into your room unnoticed, lie down in bed, hoping that the night would at least slightly cleanse you of your guilt. Hotch was absolutely right. Not only had you wasted an entire day of hard work, but you’d also put civilians from that area in danger. What if tomorrow another person became a victim?

The thought tormented you so much that by the time you reached your door, you were massaging your temples. You inserted the key you had picked up from the front desk into the lock, turned it, and was about to pull the handle… but it was locked. Frustrated, you figured the universe had simply decided to unite all of its forces against you as some kind of punishment. Before you could resort to a tired kick at the door and curl up in a ball in the hallway, you tried again. This time, the door opened without issue.

So absorbed in yourself, your situation, and your grievances, you didn’t even notice that inside, not only was the light on, but there were someone’s belongings—and, most importantly, someone else. It wasn’t until you took off your coat and stepped further into the room (if you could even call it that, it was an exceptionally small space) and came face to face with Spencer Reid that you realized you weren’t alone.

You stopped mid-step, stunned as if the least expected thing at that moment had just appeared before you—a turtle on stilts wearing a cowboy hat, or some other kind of religious prophet.

Quick note—this wasn't the first time you and Reid had shared a room during cases. Specifically, the bed. It all started when you found out he struggled with a fear of the dark, and someone’s presence really helped him feel better. In fact, at first, he insisted on sleeping on the floor, but you couldn't just watch him suffer on that uncomfortable surface every night. And, you had to admit, sometimes after an especially harrowing day in your, let’s be honest, stressful job, it felt nice to fall asleep next to someone.

As usual, it was him who came to you. Late at night, to your room, when he felt like sleeping would be particularly difficult. He was never there from the start…

"It turns out all the rooms here are double," he blurted out hastily upon seeing you, his tone overly explanatory.

When you walked in, he was in the middle of pulling something out of his suitcase. He straightened up, and you noticed he was wearing a loose T-shirt, his hair damp from a shower, and in his hand, he held that familiar white sweater you often teased him about, the one with an embroidered bear wearing glasses.

"I mean, the rest of the team got roomed together too, so we’re not some weird exception. I hope this doesn’t bother you. If it does, well, maybe we can switch somehow… I know Elle and JJ are together, and I think they only have two beds in their room, but maybe... or I could go with Derek…”

"Oh, come on," you waved dismissively, your tone sounding a bit irritated, like you were shooing away an annoying fly. The truth was, you were exhausted from the day and didn’t want to worry about the accommodation on top of everything else.

Reid stopped mid-sentence, his lips slightly parted. You felt guilty again as you had no reason to speak to him like that. He hadn’t done anything to deserve your frustration.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, your tense posture easing a little as you realized you were no longer outside, under the sharp, yet truthful words of your boss. "Really... I'm sorry, Reid. It doesn't bother me at all. Not one bit," you reassured him, sincerely.

He studied you in silence for a moment, his face showing a concerned, analytical expression.

"Actually, we’ve shared a room before," you added almost immediately, forcing a little chuckle. "And not just once. Well, at least now we have two beds…"

"Did you... did you talk to Hotch?"

The question was asked with hesitation, on a breath. Well, it finally meant confronting everything that had happened that day. You looked him straight in the eyes, searching for judgment or any hint of dislike toward you. But there was none. Instead, you found concern and discomfort at the fact that he had even brought up the subject.

"It’s... it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it," he quickly corrected himself, giving a slight nod. "You... you have every right, I don’t expect you to explain anything to me, your conversation with the boss is your private matter... oh God, I feel like with every word I say, my statement is losing more and more sense, and I’m getting more and more tangled in it, isn’t that right?"

He stared at you with furrowed brows, waiting for your reaction. It turned out to be... a burst of laughter. You honestly couldn’t help yourself.

“I hate to admit it, but yeah, you’re right. You completely lost your train of thought. Maybe we should just pretend I’ve only just walked through that door, huh?”

“That’s... that’s actually a very good suggestion. So... so, uh, hi?”

Your lips curved into a smile, this time genuine.

“Hi, Reid.”

He managed to improve your mood in less than five minutes after you’d received a serious reprimand. You were immensely glad to have ended up with him in the room lottery. Shaking your head in disbelief, you began getting ready for bed without a word. He didn’t say anything either, sensing you needed a bit of space after everything that had happened. Speaking of space...

“This room is alarmingly small, don’t you think?” you said, returning from the shower and slowly sliding under your blanket. Fifteen minutes under scalding hot water had helped your body relax, and you no longer felt like you might throw up on your own feet at any moment. “It’s like some sort of exclusive cupboard under the stairs. Still a cupboard, though. Look, I can practically touch you.”

You stretched out your arm to demonstrate. Sure enough, even though you were sitting on neighboring beds, your fingertips almost brushed the fabric of his shirt. Between you was a massive nightstand made of dark wood, the same as the windowsill and the floor. On it sat a slightly old-fashioned bedside lamp with a glass base and a slightly yellowed lampshade. Other than that, there wasn’t much furniture. Not that there would’ve been room for any.

“Do you hear that?” Reid asked enigmatically, sitting up straighter on his bed.

You looked at him, intrigued.

“Listen closely…is that…paper rustling? Morgan drafting his resignation?”

You chuckled. Your coworker had a particular sensitivity to the motels you stayed in and their condition. He firmly believed that since you risked your lives almost daily during dangerous cases and investigations, you deserved accommodations that were at least decent. And that wasn’t always what you got.

“Don’t worry, as long as the shower has hot water, we don’t have to fear him leaving,” you said. “Though now that I think about it, I can’t blame Harry.”

“Harry?”

“Potter. If I lived in such a claustrophobic little room, I’d convince myself I was a wizard too. Can I turn off the lamp?"

You politely asked, as usual, leaving plenty of room for potential conversation. Aware of his fear, you always ensured he felt comfortable with the encroaching darkness. Reid looked at you with a hint of hesitation.

"Maybe... maybe it could stay on for a bit longer? If that's..."

"That’s okay," you finished for him, knowing what he intended to say.

A fleeting, grateful expression crossed his face. Seeing it, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You were glad he no longer felt as ashamed of his unease with the dark. Besides, you preferred the light to stay on too. You were afraid of what the darkness might conceal—the worries and anxieties it could bring… already was bringing.

Mainly, it was the looping words of your boss, the thought of how you'd messed up, and the rest of the team. Well, there was one thing that eased your mind in that regard: knowing that Reid was lying in the bed next to yours and recalling the look on his face when he saw you. He wasn’t angry that you’d let the unsub get away. Maybe the others weren’t as furious with you as you’d imagined.

Or maybe it was the opposite?

Maybe he, as the second-youngest member of the team after you, was the only one showing you any understanding. And the others, perhaps, harbored nothing but disdain, their resentment growing stronger at the mere thought of you…

"You're shivering."

Reid's observation reached your ears as you lay on your side, facing away from him. His voice was gentle, blending seamlessly with the quiet that had previously enveloped the room, not cutting through the sound of your sleepy breaths but accompanying it. Not knowing how to respond, you gave a small shrug. He probably saw it—you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn't intrusive, just a worried glance from the corner of his eye.

"I could turn up the temperature if you're cold. Do you want me to?"

Your trembling had nothing to do with the cold, but admitting that felt like too much. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to steady your restless body.

"Yeah, if you don’t mind," you murmured in response.

It was easier to blame it on the chill. Still, hearing him get up and move toward the thermostat, you felt a pang of guilt for pulling him out of bed. He should already be asleep. There was so much work waiting for you both tomorrow. Another day of the investigation—a case that could have been solved already if not for you…

"I'm afraid…it doesn’t seem to work," Reid said thoughtfully. He fiddled with it for a moment longer before letting out a sigh and returning to his bed, though he didn’t lie down right away. He paused in the narrow space between your beds, and you felt his gaze again, wondering what it meant this time.

"Maybe… I don’t know, would you want my sweater? You know which one. It's…too warm for me, but since you're freezing…”

Reid’s voice was soft, tinged with an almost shy kindness that made your chest tighten. You didn’t need to turn around to picture the small, uncertain smile that likely accompanied his offer. Of course, you knew exactly which one he meant. He had received it as a Christmas gift from Penelope, and it was quite light and breathable. But what truly made it a staple in his pajamas was the adorable bear wearing glasses that appeared on the front. Sometimes, when you slept in the same bed, you could feel the softness of its fabric.

You had just turned toward him, a hint of hesitation in your eyes. You weren’t actually cold—you had been lying about that all along—but still... the offer lingered in your mind. His kindness, followed by the concern. You felt that taking his specific sweater, which was not only comfortable but also... well, his, could effectively calm your trembling limbs and ease your anxiety.

"Would you like to give it to me?" you asked, making sure. "You don't have to."

He shrugged slightly and immediately bent down to grab the suitcase tucked under the bed. The sweater in question was right on top, so he could reach for it at any moment when he felt the need for an extra layer.

"I know I don't have to," he replied, pausing for a moment with the sweater in hand. "But, you know, I want to. It's just a sweater."

"Won't Penelope be mad if you're giving it away like that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She’d be furious…" he started, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the edge of your bed, his forehead lightly furrowed. After a serious moment of hesitation, he sat on the bed, as gently as if he feared it would burn him. He stretched the sweater out towards you. "…if I gave it to anyone else. But in this case, she'd probably scold me if I didn’t give it to you."

You took it from him. Though it wasn’t one of those thick, bulky sweaters, it felt surprisingly heavy in your hands.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," you replied after a moment of hesitation, letting out a sigh. "After today."

Reid looked at your face in silence. Suddenly, you started regretting not turning off the lamp after all. His gaze seemed piercing, too piercing. It surely noted every shadow of doubt and shame cast by the subtle changes in your expression.

“That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”

For a moment, you both stared at each other in silence. You sighed, shifting slightly to the side, making room beside you.

“Come on. It’s easier for me to talk when I don’t have someone directly in front of me.”

Surprised, he stared at the small space next to you, shaking his head slightly.

“But… this bed is kind of ridiculously small, don’t you think?”

“I’m not that wide, Reid. If that’s what you’re suggesting…”

“That’s absolutely not what I meant, and I definitely wasn’t suggesting anything,” he quickly explained. “Well, maybe apart from the fact that every tiny movement will risk us both falling off…” He looked at you with an unchanged expression, patiently pointing to the spot next to you and sighed in defeat. “Okay, I feel like I’m not winning this one…”

Well, he had a point. After a while of shifting around, trying to find a position where you wouldn’t keep elbowing each other in the ribs, and after countless accidental jabs and whispered apologies, it ended with him half-lying, half-sitting, leaning against the headboard of the narrow bed, while you lay flat on your back, your head resting on the pillow. His figure cast a gentle shadow over you, making the room feel darker than it really was. It had a calming effect. Or maybe it was just the presence of someone so close by. Or perhaps it was the touch of the soft sweater, the fabric resting between your fingers, in the way one holds a rosary. Maybe it was a little bit of all those things.

"I screwed up today," you said. Though your voice was soft, there was no trace of gentleness in your tone. From the way you were lying, you could see his face, and you noticed his lips part slightly, as if to deny it. "And don't try to convince me otherwise, Reid. I knew that even before Hotch said it to my face."

You heard him sigh softly.

"I guess it wasn't a pleasant conversation."

"Oh, Reid, it was like a horror movie. But I don't blame him for anything he said. I deserved to hear it all from someone else's mouth, not just from my own head." Restlessly, you began to fiddle with the sweater like a stress toy. He watched the movement of your hands, alternating between that and the slight trembling of your chin. "At least the talk with him is over. Now I'm scared... scared of what’s with the rest of the team."

You voiced your biggest worry out loud, and there was a silence as he pondered it.

“I think… I think we’ve talked about this before,” he replied finally, clearing his throat. “About how you’re afraid of what others will think of you. And I don’t want to repeat myself, but... you need to look at it a bit differently. We all started somewhere, we were all rookies. If we got mad at each other every time someone messed up, well, there wouldn’t be a team. Of course, we keep in mind all the mistakes we've made in the past..."

“You're good at comforting...” you muttered bitterly.

"...But we don’t dwell on them unnecessarily," he finished. "We're only human, you know. It’s estimated that each person makes about five to seven mistakes a day. If we assume you live to be about eighty... though of course, I wish you much more than that, that would be between 150,000 and 200,000."

You snorted, listening to those statistics.

“I feel like I’ve already used up half of my lifetime quota today,” you confessed, while also reflecting on the first part of his statement. About the team, who, according to him, wasn’t going to hold a grudge against you…

Reid paused for a moment, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he said after a while. “Just make sure you’re really careful when you’re old. You won’t forget when your grandkids have birthdays.”

“Damn, I think that’s the problem. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. I’ll probably mix up their names. Or call them all by the same one. The prettiest one, of course. The least common one.”

“Just make sure you get a good calendar,” he suggested. “One that’ll remember everything for you. Dates, names.”

“And the number for the rheumatologist.”

“And the number for the rheumatologist,” he agreed.

You spent a long moment without bringing up any new topics, but laughing quietly about the course of the conversation. If you looked at it that way, this was probably the only time in your life you talked to someone about being an old lady with a questionable memory and joint problems with amusement rather than sheer terror. Although the bed was seriously small, you felt more comfortable than ever before. You were sinking deeper into the mattress, into his side, into relaxation. You wondered if and when, or even if, he planned to go back to his own bed. There was really no reason for him to stay...but was there any reason for him to leave?

“And you?” you spoke again after a long moment. You felt like the only way to keep him around was by saying something. Not that you were desperate to have him stay… “Have you ever messed up on a case? Like, seriously messed up?”

"I could lie and say I haven't," he noticed.

He shifted slightly, likely due to exhaustion, as his back had been slowly sliding down the headboard for a while, until it finally sank into the mattress. His head rested on the pillow right next to yours, closer than ever before. Well, you could only blame the narrow bed for that. Because of the tight space, you had to lie on your side, which meant your breath brushed against his cheek.

"You could. But then I'd ask Elle for the truth, and you'd only end up compromising yourself."

"That's true. That's why I'm telling you. Just promise you won't laugh."

"This sounds serious. Come on, what did you do?" you asked, genuinely curious, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, or let me guess."

He lay on his back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. However, when you suggested it, he slowly and hesitantly turned onto his side as well, so that you were face to face. He probably wanted to see your reaction, the laughter you'd burst into once he told you, whatever it was.

"You have three guesses," he announced. He tried to gesture to you encouragingly with his head, but then, for a split second, his chin brushed against yours. Slightly flustered, he quickly froze again.

For a moment, something changed in your breath. You bit your lip, thinking. His gaze briefly dropped to it.

"Okay, so that’s the first one," you said, taking in more air than you probably needed. You didn’t really understand what was happening, but it seemed like you were running out of oxygen faster than you should have been. "Did you confuse your weapon with a taser?"

"Really, that was the first thing that came to your mind when you thought about a mistake I might have made?" he scoffed. His breath warmed your face in a pleasant way.

"Oh, sorry, but it’s really hard for me to come up with anything when it comes to a genius with eidetic memory," you replied, rolling your eyes. "I don’t know, did you lose some evidence? Something really important?" you suggested, trying to read confirmation from his brown, unusually gentle eyes at that moment. He gently shook his head.

"Now, I honestly don’t know. Okay, this might sound like some soap opera plot, but here goes. Were you supposed to keep an eye on a potential victim and ended up having a passionate affair with them?"

You lowered your voice to a flirtatious whisper as you said the last words.

For a moment, he held your gaze. He met it like an opponent, sending an exciting shiver down your spine. And it wasn’t because of the cold. But then, he submissively lowered his eyes. You let out such a strong burst of laughter that you started to worry if you had accidentally spat on him.

"Spencer Reid, you’re joking with me, right?"

He turned back onto his back again, avoiding looking at your wide-open mouth and amused eyes. You propped yourself up on your elbow, gently nudging his shoulder.

"What kind of... seductress beast are you? Because I don't know how else to call it," you muttered, still shaking your head from side to side. "Wow, I didn’t know this side of you."

"There’s no side like that," he replied defensively, closing his eyes with some embarrassment. "It was... she was an actress who had a stalker..."

"An actress?"

"...and it just happened that way! But it was definitely a mistake. And it wasn’t any... passionate affair, as you called it. I put her in unnecessary danger when we kissed in the pool..."

"In the pool?"

"Oh, why do I even keep talking?" he groaned, pressing one hand to his tightly closed eyes. He suddenly snorted. "Sure, laugh even louder. Gideon and Derek in the next room won't mind if you wake them up."

"Oh, don't change the subject now. You seduced an actress. Was she famous?"

"I didn’t seduce her..."

"So, she seduced you?"

Reid sighed, resigned.

"Well, I’d put it that way," he admitted finally, quietly, with a certain childish indignation, as if he had simply decided to surrender to the onslaught of your questions. He didn’t reveal much, but after a moment, you learned a few important details about the case, and with some... relief, you realized you didn’t recognize the actress’s name. But why relief?

Suddenly, however, the hysterical amusement faded, leaving you with a genuine dilemma. Reid was still lying on his back, avoiding your mocking gaze and comments. Before you could stop yourself, you lightly touched his arm to get his attention. He nodded questioningly.

"I know this might be a very strange and, above all, an extremely personal question, but what does it take to seduce you?" you asked.

Reid froze, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I just realized that I’ve probably never seen you actively filter anyone. Consciously, that is. Because sometimes it happens, and you don’t even notice it," he opened his mouth to protest, but you quickly covered it with your hand. Confused, he looked down at it. "Don’t even try to deny it, everyone would confirm it. But I’m trying to imagine the kind of person you would lose your head for, and I’ve got a few conflicting ideas. So, I’ll repeat the question. What does it take to seduce you? Asking for a friend, of course."

Reid flinched as if alarmed.

"What friend?"

"My God, it’s just a figure of speech."

He sighed, and the way he shook his head showed a certain disbelief.

"You’re surprisingly hyperactive, considering the time. Maybe we should go to bed?"

"No, I asked you a question," you protested. "Does she have to be pretty? Smart? Probably both, right?"

He looked at you with the same expression—simultaneously embarrassed, disbelieving, shocked, amused, offended, and above all, thoroughly confused.

"I feel like this question is going to keep you up tonight. So, for the sake of your own sleep, I’ll answer briefly. And I don’t care if my answer satisfies you or not." Reid paused, and you waved your hand, urging him to continue. He sighed. "She just... has to seem... interesting."

"Was there any more evasive answer?" you snorted, disappointed.

"Did you expect an entire essay?"

"Well, honestly, yes. Last time you talked to me for over thirty minutes about bioluminescence and what causes it. You were able to go on and on about that, but not this time?"

You knew by now you were just teasing him, playing with his nerves as if it were an instrument you'd been mastering since early childhood, attending lessons three times a week and slowly climbing the ranks of your musical career.

Your conversations often felt like a game of ping-pong, with each of you exchanging comments, remarks, observations, and verbal jabs at a pace that was downright wild. Time completely vanished for you then, feeling as though you could carry on such a dialogue forever.

"Goodnight," he finally said, without much firmness in his voice. Well, that was probably more out of practicality than a strong desire to end the chat. It was indeed late. "I hope I don't bump into you too many times during the night. Or you into me."

"So, you're already tired of talking to me?" you asked, feigning hurt. You even tilted your head dramatically.

For a moment, he hesitated to reply, his brown eyes nervously scanning your face, a barely noticeable smile tugging at his lips.

"Quite the opposite," he finally responded. You raised your eyebrows, not allowing yourself to feel satisfied with his words in case they turned out to be pure sarcasm. "So…goodnight."

As a result of some sort of scuffle, you found yourselves in a rather chaotic position. Well, you were definitely taking up most of the bed, comfortably sprawled in the center. He lay more on the edge, somewhere between lying on his back and on his side. Looking at him and his slightly flushed cheeks, which were quite an endearing sight, you suddenly realized the meaning of his earlier words. I hope I don't bump into you too many times during the night. So he did intend to sleep with you on this narrow bed, when there was a perfectly empty one, entirely at his disposal, just beside you? An unexpected choice, but… you weren’t complaining. In fact, you were kind of okay with it. With a slightly enigmatic expression, you leaned closer to him, intending to say something softly.

Reid perked up, as although he had officially ended the conversation, he was still curious about what you were about to say.

"Goodnight," you said slowly, inhaling the scent of his freshly washed hair. You should have moved away, giving him space to settle more comfortably, but you wouldn't be yourself if you didn't add, “Seductive beast."

“God, nothing in life will ever make me regret more than telling you about this,” he sighed, genuinely concerned about that prospect.

You let out a snort and were about to mumble something else when he, with resignation, turned fully onto his back. Well... at least he tried. He was so close to the edge of the mattress that it simply ended beneath him.

You shot up into a sitting position, startled by the sudden noise and the chaos that filled the room.

“Spencer,” you managed to gasp, jumping off the bed to check on him.

It wasn't an easy task; everything was submerged in darkness. If falling off the bed itself didn't sound like one of the most humiliating accidents a person could have, adding to it the fact that he had hit his head on the wide dresser next to the bed made it worse. And, as a result, the nightlight had been knocked over and shattered...

Fumbling, you reached for the light switch, and when the room was lit again, you moved to him. Kneeling beside Reid, who was slowly propping himself up, you gently held his shoulders.

"Careful, Jesus, you hit your head so hard..."

He squinted and furrowed most of his face, letting out a sharp breath.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you asked, carefully inspecting his head and looking for any serious injuries, maybe some blood... but you saw nothing

Spencer looked at you with a sort of seriousness, as if the pain had suddenly faded.

"What else is it supposed to do, tickle?"

For a moment, the room fell quieter, but it was impossible to ignore the mutual sense of relief that things hadn’t turned out worse. His words threw you off a bit; at first, you didn’t fully grasp their meaning. Instead, you focused entirely on analyzing his face, his body language, his behavior. You were afraid he might have a concussion.

"I have absolutely no medical training, but..." you paused, casting another worried glance his way. Reid was slowly starting to shake off the shock and disorientation. "But judging by how quickly your sarcasm came back, I’d say you’re going to be fine."

He let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a groan.

"Doctor of the year, right here…"

Just then, a loud knock echoed on the door. The door to your room

“Is someone murdering you guys in there or what?” Morgan’s concerned voice called out.

You exchanged glances—both equally confused and, in a way, slightly terrified. Clearing your throat, you spoke up.

“Well, since I’m the reason this whole situation happened, I guess it’s on me to explain to him how it even got to this point,” you sighed. When he didn’t react, you raised your eyebrows. “No objections? No heroic offers to take this off my hands?”

“Not a chance,” he replied curtly, shaking his head before wincing briefly as another wave of pain clearly shot through it.

You told him, worried, to stay down for a little while longer for his own good.

“And as my mom used to say,” you added, slowly starting to stand, glancing briefly toward the door. Morgan knocked again—or rather, pounded on it hard enough to nearly take it off its hinges.

Taking your time, you rested both hands on Reid’s shoulders in an almost protective gesture. Completely ignoring the surprised look on his face, you brushed your lips against his forehead.

“A kiss will make it better.”

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @aristeia29 @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella

#spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spence reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

973 notes · View notes

hellfirenacht · 1 year ago

Text

Wing Man Part 10

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

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

Series Master List

You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now.

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least.

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.”

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis.

A fake tan. That��s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky.

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself.

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.”

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you.

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right?

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly.

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago.

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground.

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now.

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.”

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added.

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars.

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined.

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car.

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought.

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised.

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn.

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future.

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now.

Moving forward wasn’t so bad.

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual.

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin.

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him.

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago.

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to.

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago.

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June.

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first.

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter?

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?”

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them.

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost.

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you.

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said.

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today?

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly.

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago.

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige.

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted.

“Are you going to hang up on me now?”

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.”

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight.

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money-

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.”

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie?

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now.

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said.

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster.

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said.

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked.

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly?

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.”

Oh, it can get weirder.

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.”

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real.

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?”

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.”

“Why just me?”

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.”

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last.

“When do you land?” Eddie asked.

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.”

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.”

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.”

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.”

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said.

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed.

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours?

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth.

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no.

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room.

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep.

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it.

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus.

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together.

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex.

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date.

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened.

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out.

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you...

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now.

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out.

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv.

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today.

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again.

You answered on the third ring.

“No Hellfire today?” you asked.

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?”

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called.

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table.

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale.

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge.

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent.

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk.

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?”

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did.

“I want to.”

Two people.

Fuck, he needed to tell you.

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?”

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.”

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence.

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town?

“That sounds like a lot.” You said.

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation.

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke?

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?”

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again.

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.”

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.”

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath.

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #wing man

251 notes · View notes

buryhny · 8 months ago

Text

One Night Stand ; 35

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter thirty five ; wc | 5.7 k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

You try hard not to let harsh words out of your tongue, but can you help yourself? Jungkook here, stands in front of you with a scowl decorating his face as he glares at you while he hears you speak.

The frown lines on his face seem to deepen with each word that leaves your lips. Although his face shows his anger and growing frustration due to the acts you've done behind his back with intentions that he's unaware of, inside his heart he knows today is the day that he faces the truth that he's always buried inside of him.

the truth that he does not want to hear because it would leave the both of yours' fragile glass heart into a million pieces. And you've already taken the first step by saying;

"Jungkook, you've never done anything for our baby before! You're uninterested, unbothered and don't love our child like I do! You don't act like a fucking father—how do you expect me to ask you or bring you along for shopping for this kid?"

every word that you said, made sense and was correct. But Jungkook didn't want you to say the right thing because he was fully aware that this would sting him in every inch of his heart and soul, and it wouldn't be too good for him. Yes, he's uninterested and unbothered and it is not your fault that you don't know his side of the story that he hides from the world.

He does it intentionally but how could he say everything to you? You're so hopeful, you're a woman filled with love and courage, leaving the world behind and even your parents in the limelight, you so bravely took up this responsibility of the child and now you've just formed yourself to become the ideal mother that he wants for his children but why can't he accept this?

You're accusing him of not being a father and he knows it, damn well but he can't admit it, as it would only lead to his breakdown, which he can't afford. He's not going to put himself in that position again, feel like shit even though he's fully aware that he is one, saying it out is only going to make his mind believe it,

and what good would it do when his heart opens up and takes the lead. So he denies it. "That's not the problem here-" 'Oh you damn well know that this is the problem, Jeon!' he thinks to himself. If he acted like a father, this day would never come.

The arguments won't rise like it has now, it would never if he could only be the loving and wanting dad for his child and the woman that he so madly likes. He avoids your eyes when you glare at him, if he looks into those sharp, painful spheres that usually hold a galaxy of hope and love for him, he won't be able to handle himself. But does he want you to look at him with hatred? No. Never.

But why is he arguing here when he knows he could rather speak and sort this, so instead he denies. "that is!!! You don't want our baby, you have no love for this little human that we created together, you can't stand her! You hate this child! You hate her!!"

There.

if what you said a few minutes ago about how he's an unbothered father stung him then the words you've now spoken, raw and true from deep within, have shattered it completely. The very words Jungkook fought so damn hard to keep from spilling from your lips, but now, you've said them.

and can he be mad? Definitely not. not when you're throwing them at him with tears flowing down your eyes and staining your beautiful pink dress that he was meant to tell you, how lovely it looked on you and made your hazel eyes shine. he hates himself for making you cry like this, for letting you feel this way.

you're in pain and he needs to feel it, he has to understand what's going on within you, that's the only way he'll speak what he has to. "why do you hate this.. this baby?" you whisper at him, sobbing hard as you try to calm yourself down. Jungkook bites down on the inside of his cheek, the metallic tang on his tongue a reminder of how hard he's trying to manage his inner pain physically.

He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. Your voice, laced with sadness and pain, echoes in his mind—the question you asked so softly, he almost couldn't hear it. maybe he doesn't want to hear you after all,

it will only hurt him but you're hurting so much more that's not something anyone could feel neither could you express it out with words, nothing will capture the heartbreak you feel inside you. "do you not want me here? do you not want us? please... just tell it to me without hurting me anymore."

you ask him, your voice shaky and uneven whispering as your words are barely held together by the force of the emotions you feel. you had to ask him everything that you've been holding back within you, you can't seem to handle this. not anymore. You're reminded of the way your heart breaks every time he pulls away or distances himself when the baby comes up.

He can't find the words to respond, his mind is stuck on the things you said. he clenches his fists from time to time as he hears your sobs growing, he can't believe he's done this to you. Your attempts to speak are lost, coming out fragmented and jumbled as you sob uncontrollably, like a helpless child.

Jungkook gazes at you, then immediately looks away. how can he look at you when you're in such a state, it pains him that he's the cause of this. he's not got anything to say because you've said it. you watch him for some time, your eyes moving around his face,

waiting for him to speak up. but all you see is his closed eyes, his lips bruised and red from all that picking and biting he's been doing, nothing else. he's got no remorse on his face, none that you could see. you know that his eyes hold the truth and words but when he shuts it up like that,

you've got no answers from him. "I know it's not as easy as it seems, I- struggled too and I still do... I never planned on being a mom, everything is so... " you exhale deeply, looking around the bedroom that has become yours, memories attached to every little corner of these pretty bright walls that now look dull,

dark and seem like it're eating you up with the silence and ache. "it's tiring, stressful and I don't know what I'm gonna do- but I try, I try and try... I try so hard and I don't seem to understand why you can't!"

Jungkook gulps with difficulty; he's never made an effort in this area, and now it's starting to weigh heavily on him especially when you repeat the words 'try' 4 times, and he's not done it even once. "you're not being.. easy on me-" he mutters under his breath, hopes that you don't hear him because he doesn't want you to hear his lies but he can't let himself speak from his heart. it's better to lock it up and torment within himself than let it speak,

he doesn't want you to see him break and feel like a piece of dirty, he knows well enough that he's not the ideal man who can help you out to be a better mom, let alone be a father and help a child out. he'll only trauma dump you and then push it on his child, and that. he does not want. he'd rather choose to be the hated one than make a loveless relationship.

when the words leave his lips, you look at him in disbelief, your eyes widen and a sarcastic smile grows as you let out a scoff. "I've never asked you to do anything before, Jungkook! how am I being the difficult one here?" your fingers point at him and you, his words triggering you a little too much, when it's crystal clear you're the one going through difficult situations and phases, you never put it on him,

there's no way you're being the difficult one here when it's no doubt but him. "i just can't get myself to try!" he speaks, his tone louder than it was before, his attempt of making you stop because he just can't get himself to do fatherly duties, he doesn't want you to put it on him anymore. "I want you to tell me what the problem is! unless you speak up,

I won't know what you hold inside of you! we need to talk, you need to tell me what you're thinking because I know there's a reason behind this-" you speak, looking at him for something but you can't seem to get anything out of him. Jungkook decides to stay quiet, he wants you to get tired of him, so you can sleep it off.

you're tired, he sees it. your eyes are heavy, wants you to have dinner and go to bed. he doesn't want either of you to deal with this. but you're not letting this go, you need answers. your eyes don't leave his figure, you continue to look at him, waiting for him.

maybe he's putting his thoughts in place so he can say everything clearly, but when nothing comes out of his mouth, you know deep down that he's slowly giving up. "you can't just shut me down with nothing!" you mutter loudly, trying to make him speak, this will never go anywhere unless he says something.

You give him the space to take his time, and before you realize it, more than 15 minutes have passed without him saying a single word. If he can keep you in his house and take such good care of you, there must be a reason why he doesn't care for his own baby the same way he does for you.

Jungkook stands still, neither does he blink nor does a hum leave his lips. if you've been stubborn like you were before, it would be understandable as to why he's not making an effort to say anything as it would only worsen the situation. but you're not adamant you've given him so much space which has resulted you both in this situation. you should've spoken about this way before, but you didn't.

all in hope that he would make a step, he would care, he would show but he didn't. he never did. "please.. talk to me babe-" you whisper, weeping louder now, unable to take his silence. it's getting so heavy in your heart that now it doesn't feel like it's tearing apart, Your heart feels like it's being stoned by his coldness and stillness.

Jungkook's heart skips a beat when he hears you whisper 'babe' to him, the first time you've ever used an affectionate name to call him. If he doesn't speak up now, you'll end up taking his silence as the answer to every question you've asked. you watch him, the ghost blinks while he bites the insides of his cheeks and locks his mouth up with no key to be found.

Jungkook has a million things running through his mind, He's sorry for his actions and silence, he is but he needs you to understand and take this silence as his answer. he desperately wants to hug you and calm you down because it's not good for the baby, but then again, why is he thinking this way when he doesn't want to do anything for the child he's created? Each time he reminds himself that there's a baby—a whole human—right in front of him, he feels the bump against his lower chest.

It's not just a bump; it's a little child that both of you created together. But he's not ready, or maybe that's just the excuse he tells himself to deny it all. he doesn't meet your eyes, fully aware that once he sees the sea of tears in your eyes, those red cheeks, nose and your rosy lips that aren't rose because he kissed you but because he's made you cry,

he's gonna breakdown and that would just be the end of him. you can't take him anymore, the pink drop silence and how small this room now feels. You can't help but scoff; you actually believed he liked you. If he did, even just a little, even if he cared about you in the slightest, he would've said at least something.

"say something!" you yell at him through gritted teeth as you hit his chest. He flinches at the sound of your words, yet he stands there frozen, dumbfounded and overwhelmed by waves of reality checks he received from you. Jungkook heaves a sigh and licks his lips, his eyes widened so he can blink faster.

"uh..." he utters as he clears his throat, his flickering eyes scanning around the room before he glances at you and soon looks at the ground. You're a mess and he despises himself for being the reason for your state. "uh.. it's late.. let's get you dinne-" "I don't fucking care!" you push him away and walk past him to get out of your room, hastily you get downstairs to one of his empty rooms and lock yourself inside.

If he can't speak up and explain himself, it only confirms everything for you. He doesn't need you here—his silence and inability to answer your questions say it all. That alone gives you the clarity you were seeking. Yet, despite that, you don't want to leave.

If this argument had happened a few months ago, you would have walked out of his house without hesitation, but now, you find yourself unable to just walk away.

How could he brush everything off? Why can't he just say something, anything at all? All he does is hurt you more. Maybe it just shows that he doesn't wanna do anything with you anyway. You sit on the bed of the guest room and lean against the headboard.

As you cry uncontrollably, your mind races with worries about all the potential ways your life could change. You're overwhelmed with fear and the familiarity of Jungkook only intensifies your anxiety. You've become so used to having him by your side, taking care of you that now, you're scared to be alone.

You regret going back to him and wish you had never done so, you wish you handled this pregnancy by yourself without the help of the only man you've allowed yourself to blend with. Because now you're here weeping your eyes out, in a room that you've never seen before, starving and having no movements of the baby who's supposed to be kicking you 10 times for this night.

You pace aimlessly around the room, desperately trying to erase his words from your mind, but it's his face—etched so deeply into your thoughts—that you can't seem to shake.

Jungkook shuts his eyes when you push his chest and walk out of your room, he stands still and winces when he hears you slam the door of the guest room downstairs. When his eyes open, he lets the pool of tears flow down his cheeks. First, his ears turn crimson then his nose and cheeks join the same color.

He bursts out in tears, sitting on the blush ottoman in front of the bed that you now own. Everything in this room is yours, everything, including him. You own him and he wants you to. His hands cover his face as he lets himself cry out all he wants.

There's so much he wants to tell you but he can't muster the courage. He's afraid, just as much as you are but you voice it out to him, you've told him your worries and when it comes to his turn, his side.

He's unaware of how he should put his words and form the sentences. Everything gets stuck in his throat. Jungkook has always been one to keep things within himself and it has always worked with everyone else because no one was interested and was unaware of things he had, but with you, he can't do the same

and in this situation, he knows either he has to speak up or you walk away from him. none of the two are helping him, he doesn't know how to open up and he never wants you to leave him. you're the only one, he's got. He's shared some of his happiest moments with you over these past few months, creating precious memories he'll never forget.

Even if he lost all his other memories, the ones he made with you would always remain. the tears flow down his cheek, he pulls his nose from time to time and sobs quietly. his wailing does not stop and it's because your face shows up each time he blinks, he's the reason for every single tear that left your eyes and he will never forgive himself for doing that to you.

never. He made a solemn vow to himself never to fall in love again—he couldn't bear to lose his heart and soul after everything he'd been through. No matter how much pain he endured, he would never inflict that kind of hurt on anyone else. He knew the depths of that pain and would never wish for anyone to experience what he had.

But Jungkook never imagined he could cause as much pain to someone else as he had once felt, especially to the only woman he'd loved after all these years of being alone. He knows the pain you're feeling now runs even deeper, though he can't truly compare the two—it's a different situation, yet he's certain the ache is just as profound, cutting deep into the heart. he wipes off his face with the back of his hand,

in an attempt to stop himself from crying. he could go on for hours if not days, at the remembrance of your beautiful face in tears but he can't. he must control, because if he doesn't, who's gonna take care of you? Jungkook consoles himself, "she hasn't had her dinner-" he tells himself as his sobbing quiets down. he turns off the lights in your room and walks downstairs to feed you.

He notices how dark the room is, realizing he hadn't even turned on the lights when he entered. His mind had been so clouded with anger that he hadn't registered the pitch-black shadows engulfing his living room. He notices the door is closed, with a faint light spilling out from beneath it. He hesitantly raises his hand and knocks. "Y/N?"

he calls out softly, but there's no response from you. "be mad at me but please.. please just eat." he murmurs as he presses his forehead on the cold white door and sighs. He presses his ear gently against the door, trying to figure out if you're ignoring him or maybe just asleep. But instead of silence,

he hears faint sobs, barely audible now, as if they've been quieting down and are on the verge of fading completely indication of sleep. he'd let you sleep on an empty stomach for the first time, you're hungry, alone, and cold. Jungkook has never felt so much guilt before, he's at fault and he knows it. a part of him consoles him by saying 'It's okay, you can handle this.'

and the other part of him says 'This was bound to happen someday, it's not gonna last long, you can't be a father when you're broken yourself. how could you bring a child when you don't even know how to take care of yourself.' a sigh leaves his lips as he slowly drifts away from the door to the living room.

Jungkook sits on the couch, his elbows resting on his thighs and his palms covering his face. he lets himself relax since his shoulders feel heavy and stiff from anxiety. it's funny how he never expected this to happen on a fine Friday, he'd made plans on taking you out for a simple fun dinner, soft serve that the ice cream truck offers and end the day with some snuggling because he was exhausted from all the work,

not to forget the tech overload and management issues that he'd been dealing with all day. he hoped to share them with you, so he could feel heard as it always washed his worries off and brought relief when you listened to him. He used to be perfectly content on his own, never needing anyone.

But now that he's had a glimpse of you in his life, he can't imagine going back to how things were. The thought of you not being there feels unbearable, another reason for him to consider leaving everything behind. but with you is a challenge to him too, it's not just you but a little human too and he doesn't know if he has it in himself to take care of one.

His thoughts are interrupted by a warm, damp touch on his skin, like a delicate sweep of a soft brush. Glancing down, he sees his pup staring up at him with wide, almost sad, puppy eyes. "h-hey Bam-ah-" he stutters as he caresses the smooth brown fur and then carries him to his lap. "what's wrong?"

Jungkook asks as he pulls his nose and tries to find his voice so he can speak clearer. Bam looks at him like he knows something is wrong and snuggles deeper into the warmth of the man. Dogs are truly remarkable creatures. They can sense the subtle emotions that linger in the air without needing to understand the words humans speak.

They instinctively know when something isn't right—like not hearing you call for Bammie before bed or Jungkook's usual "hey boy" as he walks by. The pup doesn't rely on words; he feels it. He understands more than anyone could ever know. Jungkook continues to rub the pup's fur, therapeutic to him when everything is going wrong around him.

it gives him comfort and it reminds him exactly why he got in the first place, for this very reason. whenever he felt down, this little Doberman never fails to make things feel better, with his quick licks and or nudging his wet nose to the man's t-shirt.

he's trying to show that he's here and so is his love and loyalty to his owner. Jungkook doesn't realize when his eyes are closed, he dozes off to the darkness and coldness of the room with his pup by his side.

;

a shiver runs down your spine and goosebumps allow the hair of your neck to stand when you feel how cold the room is. you're not wrapped up with a blanket like you are every night, there's no warmth radiated from the man who cuddles you from behind making you the little spoon. you find it difficult to open your eyes when the crusty dried feeling around does not allow you to fully open them.

you instinctively rub your eyes to clear away the dried bits and then you look around the room only to see that it's not your own. the four walls are colored in a dark Prussian blue and beige that envelops you in darkness and coldness. you heave out a sigh as you try to lift yourself so you can lean against the headboard,

you're mind is slightly blurred after a long nap, honestly you don't even want to remember what happened last night but you can't forget it either. it's painfully stuck to not just your mind but every corner of your heart, his words but more of his silence.

You gently stroke your belly, gazing down at it, thinking how unfortunate it must be to go through all this. If you'd known beforehand that you'd end up in this situation, you would have never let yourself get close enough to have sex. "hey.. you okay in there?"

you ask your little bud since you've only felt 2 kicks since the time you woke up. you take your time, looking longer at it while your hands run through your dress. you're starving, running on the lunch you had yesterday. food is fuel and when there's none left inside, you start to feel weak.

Closing your eyes and staring at the ceiling, the black walls hold no intrigue, yet you still gaze, as they replay the events of last night. how could he say that? you think to yourself. there hasn't been one moment you forced anything on him, in fact, you've always tried to involve him in the firsts that you've experienced. from scans to movements.

he dares to say you're not being easy on him? you scoff in pain, your tongue runs on your bottom lip as you try to understand his point. but you don't. you just can't seem to find the problem in trying unless he wants you out of here which is understandable. If Jungkook's notion of taking responsibility only referred to providing financially—

like buying you food and baby supplies—then you would have turned it down long ago. if that was not his intention then maybe you should be honest to him and say it because that's all it looks like to you right now.

he gave you a place to stay when you needed to be with someone, and he satisfied all of your pregnancy cravings even when you didn't ask and he paid for all of your maternity clothes and stupid items you thought looked cute. did he give you his love?

yes. love can't be faked, can it? if it can be then Jungkook should win an Oscar for his performance. you think about it, how betrayed and hurt you feel. this was not your plan for the weekend. you did not want to spend a weekend during an argument especially when he's at home too. you could tell him to get out of here but.... what right do you have to tell him to leave his own house just so you could calm down?

the best choice would be to leave his place, everything would be sorted way faster and it would not be a bother to him too. your feet are swollen, they've been for quite some time but you barely felt it because you always had being entertained by books,

TV shows, and movies being played either by your choice or by Jungkook while you two munch on some popcorn and desserts that he attempted to bake for you. there wasn't a time to ever think about your pain, he always found some way to distract you but now there's nothing to divert your mind when you're in an empty room that you've never seen before.

The room feels engulfed in shadows, even though you know the sun is shining outside. In contrast to your own room's soft, neutral tones with touches of beige, pink, and grey. you never thought you would miss a room so much even when you're in the same house, all you've got to do is walk upstairs and turn right.

you pout as you think about it. the pain in your feet feels heavy and tight from your ankle downwards. you squirm your toes like a little kid and whimper. you've never seen anyone's feet look so weird and puffed up as you see yours now. "my poor feet."

you mumble under your breath and sigh. they don't even look like your beautiful painted long toes. There's no way to reach them for even a slight massage, so you just sit there, staring at them and glancing around the room helplessly. your stomach grumbles loudly and you can't wait any longer without food,

so you get on your feet. mewls leave your lips when you slowly help yourself stand, your hands grip on the headboard for support. Last night's nonstop crying and wandering around the room is the cause of your current state. It's Saturday, and weekend breakfasts are always special, so you're really hoping to find the usual pancakes or waffles that are usually whipped up.

You step outside, sunlight flooding everything. It's one thing you love about this mansion—light always spills through the sheer curtains, brightening every corner. It's so cozy and inviting, that no one could resist living here. your eyes search for a certain someone that you want to avoid, due to obvious reasons yet you are curious to know what he must be up to.

your feet take you to the kitchen and to your surprise, you see nothing cooked was left for you to have. For a moment, you felt betrayed as your hands fluttered around the counter, the microwave, oven, and fridge, only to realize nothing had been cooked.

Jungkook always has his pancakes or waffles ready, no matter when you wake up, early or late. But with no sign of them today, it hits you—he didn't even make them. this stings you even more makes you clench your fists in anger and your heart races at the thought of how he didn't even care about you.

As you look around, you start to notice how the man isn't even at home. this makes you scoff.

'of course, why would he stay here, there's tempting activities and people out there to see. he wouldn't lock himself up in his house like me.'

As you turn to walk away from the kitchen, you hear the main door open and a man walks inside, words leaving his mouth "Come on, walk in." the poor dog starts barking out loud as he notices your presence, Jungkook lifts his head up only to see you a few feet away from him. a scowl decorates your face and he immediately gulps as he watches your contorted face with his guilty eyes.

"hey.. y/n- I went to grab some bre-" "save it Jungkook!" you walk away from him to the same room you locked yourself up last night. His eyes close with a flinch when he hears you bang on the door. Heaving a sigh, he looks down at the paper bag that contained breakfast for you.

he thought you wouldn't eat anything he makes by his hand and he didn't want you to be left in hunger. He thought a lot about it before he left but what he didn't think was how it could seem to you. An empty house. But it seems like his presence does enough and maybe he shouldn't be around you.

he gets you though, he can't say anything against you when it's obvious, anyone in your place would give him the same treatment. He sits back on the couch for a while, letting himself think how he could bring you to accept the food he got for you. Maybe you'll come out of the room yourself, whenever you feel hungry.

Maybe he'll just keep the bag closer to the room so you don't have to walk to the kitchen. So he does it. Jungkook knows what's gonna take you to be back the way you were, it's simple, it isn't very hard. but he's not ready to speak, he admits he's a coward,

he's always been. Jungkook takes the time to reflect on his past, words that left him traumatized to this day. What haunts him each time children are brought up ;

One night at the mall, Jungkook found himself lingering over a pair of little yellow shoes, perfect for a baby girl no more than three months old. The crochet shoes were adorned with a large baby blue bow, dotted with white polka dots,

and they stirred something deep within him—an unfamiliar warmth that ignited his paternal instincts. He could imagine a baby girl as pretty as his ever-loving girlfriend. Tan like her golden brown skin with big pouty lips that he loved to kiss. "hey...I know this sounds crazy but- I think we should get this."

he murmured to the woman in front of him, her eyes glancing at the shoes and then back to her phone like she'd been doing for hours now. Even though she was fully aware that this was a date and she had to solely focus on her boyfriend, she barely did.

"for what?" he chucked, the smile growing till his eyes crinkled. He adored the little shoes and although he wasn't sure what he was gonna do with it now, he just wanted to get it. He could see himself putting it on his baby girl someday. He couldn't stop imagining and giggling about it, the lady gave him a side eye before he spoke. "someday.. when we have our girl-"

"Oh shut up Jungkook! Can you stop talking like a stupid old mother!" she starts, flinching Jungkook with her tone and words. "what, our girl? There's no way in hell we are having kids. Have you looked at me? And yourself? Do I look like I want a child? No! And you-" she laughs. "you've got zero parenting skills, can barely keep a plant alive, let alone a baby."

this breaks the man's heart. "playing house is not like raising a kid, it isn't some sort of fairy tale and you're no hero. You're never gonna be fit to be a father."

next chapter ⇢

#jungkook #bts fanfic #one night stand #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #theagstd #btswritersclub #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

61 notes · View notes

lo1k-diamonds · 3 months ago

Text

Unique 💜 Part 2 - Chapter 10

“I don’t want you to leave.”

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon x OFC

SUMMARY: It's a year later when Angie decides to visit Hyejin, both women looking to get away from their problems. But a certain group is just pausing their tour, and old feelings are rekindled when their paths cross.

WORD COUNT: 5.7 k

GENRE: old lovers to ?

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit language, smut, protected sex, angst and heartbreak

A.N. I know it's bittersweet, but this last part is very dear to my heart💜 I hope you enjoy it 💜 (thank you for the new look, @eerieedits)

Angie woke up startled by the banging on her hotel room door. Her first instinct was to reach for her phone: 2:39 AM. Another bang. She pushed the sheet off her and let go of Namjoon’s pillow to get up sleepily, yet less and less so. One last hit sounded before something scratched as if someone was sliding along the door to the floor, and although quiet, she could swear she heard her name.

That was enough for her to open the door, maybe against her better judgment, but she was instantly glad she did. On the other side, Namjoon stumbled, despite being seated on the floor, and had to make a colossal effort to lean and support his back on the door frame instead.

He glanced up, and her heart instantly shook; his eyes were bloodshot and glistening, his cheeks sunken and gray, his lips a frown, and everything was almost obscured by a hoodie over his head as if he wanted to hide.

“It’d be easier if I had your number,” he rasped, and she kneeled in front of him.

“You know why we never exchanged numbers.”

Her worry seeped through her expression easily. She wanted to brush his soft skin and get pricked by his days-old beard making him look a little more than just wild now.

“I know.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

He looked so tired, and the smell of alcohol and smoke was unmistakable. She would have liked to think that he went to his friend and had fun and then decided to come back to her, but just looking at his state, she knew that wasn’t true.

“Do you want to come inside?” she asked gently, eager to reach her hand.

He nodded with tears in his eyes, and she instantly grabbed his hands, using herself as a counterweight to get him up. She didn’t wait for him to wobble; her arm was instantly around him to guide him inside.

It was difficult to close the door because he almost lost balance in the opposite direction, but carrying him to bed was worse. He kept stumbling and nearly toppling over things, but she managed to successfully sit him down.

He was looking at her in silence when she kneeled in front of him to get his shoes off. She didn’t see it, but his expression was riddled with guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m drunk, I think.”

She smiled softly. “I know.”

“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, eyes watering to the brim.

“I wanted to see you too.”

She threw his shoes to the corner so he wouldn’t trip on them, then raised her hands to brush his cheeks gently, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He leaned into her touch, pressing her palms to his cheeks as if that was the only way he could breathe, and acknowledged the unmistakable burn inside his chest.

When he opened his eyes, he was calmer. Suddenly, his mind wasn't in chaos, and looking at her, he was certain.

“I know,” he said, gently brushing her hands on his face. It was dark with only faint street lights shining through the curtains, but he could see her heart so well. “I know.”

Her thumbs brushed his cheeks gently. “Do you want to shower or just sleep?”

He perked up. “I can sleep with you?”

He instantly pressed his lips, regretting his naive outburst, but before he could apologize and take it back, she smirked. “You can sleep next to me.”

She got up and around him to get on the bed, and he looked back in time to see her move a pillow back so he could lie by her side. He looked at the clothes he had on, thinking he should take them off so the bed wouldn’t smell like his nightly activities, but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t want to abuse her kindness, so he just dragged himself back and let himself fall on the pillow beside her.

Instantly, her arm was around his chest in an embrace, and he didn’t mean to stiffen, but he was surprised. Namjoon thought she wouldn’t want to be close to him, to even see him. How come he was there right now?

“Shouldn’t you take it off? It will be too hot.”

He gave up on holding back when his cheeks flushed crimson, then sat up and got rid of his baggy shirt and jeans. When her arm wrapped around him again, her legs looking to tangle with his, he shuddered. He refused to think and turned to her to hold her as close as possible. His heart was burning with a desire making him feverish, and seeing her gestures toward him, he decided to voice it.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You can always kiss me, Namjoon.”

He brushed her jawline gently before leaning in to connect their lips, and instantly, he squeezed her so hard she whimpered. It was because of that taste, of that weight inside his chest, of the certainty in his soul that everything was right. It was why he was going crazy, why he couldn’t deal with reality, or with knowing that he would have to let go again. He didn’t want that, it risked drowning him in tears, even now as they kissed gently.

Their lips parted, and he sniffled, focused on absorbing every detail of their time together before he would lose it. He felt the way she gently brushed his cheeks and then pecked over his rough chin in tenderness.

“Sleep,” she whispered, not introducing one millimeter of distance between them, and he sighed. If it were like this, he could sleep.

Namjoon woke up so thirsty that it almost felt like he couldn’t breathe, probably because his mouth was dry and open. Everything hurt, including his head, and he groaned in instant regret and annoyance. Then he remembered his ideas from the night before and quickly looked to the side — Angie.

He swallowed dryly and blinked to force himself awake and confirm he wasn't dreaming: her blonde hair was over the pillow, and she had the t-shirt he had given her to wear, her chest softly heaving with each breath, her features delicate, and her eyes closed as she slept peacefully. He rubbed his eyes, taking in the way tears surfaced — right.

He wasn’t surprised he ended up there; it was the only place he wanted to go to. He could have been surprised that she had let him in and taken care of him so gently, but he wasn’t. Why?

He got up slowly, muting a groan at the banging headache, and dragged himself to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, he could only feel his head pounding like it was inside a speaker, constantly ringing a nauseating beat inside his head. Fucking hell, that was dumb of him.

When he got the courage, he got up, and flushed, deciding that he had to—

A pill and a glass of water were over the counter next to the sink, distinctly to the side. All that was missing was a tag with his name, but he instantly knew it was for him. Because Angie would have thought that far.

He took the pill and drank copious amounts of water, sighing in relief before heading back to the bedroom. The bed dipped as he sat down, eying Angie as she slept. Embarrassment crept up his chest and had him rubbing his face again. What had he done?

After storming out of that very same room the night before, he had taken a taxi to his studio. There, he had sacked every bottle of beer and soju he had, drinking one after the other. He had lapses of memory, knowing only that he was doing music the whole time, whether he cried or screamed into the microphone, into his closed fists. Because he was so hurt, so lost, so frustrated that he didn’t know what to do.

Memories went through his mind, the headache kindly receding after the painkiller and water, when he suddenly uncovered his face. He leaned down to reach his clothes on the floor and felt them until he caught what he was searching for — a CD. He made it the night before, it was the excuse he found to come back here. Not a single drop of resentment was in that record, only his feelings. Only the expression of everything he wanted to say but had no guts to, the reason he had run away, the reason he didn’t know what to do even now.

He got up, folded his clothes neatly to stack them on a chair, and hid the CD within them. He didn’t know if he was ready to reveal such rawness; he was still confused. He sat on the chair after pushing the things behind him and glanced at her sweet figure before burying his face into his hands.

Why wasn’t he surprised at her gentleness? Because he was used to it? But he feared her rejection. He could see it happening, and yet he remembered her worried and caring eyes. Every action of hers — from the way she helped him up from the floor to the medicine waiting for him in the bathroom — was not a simple, gentle gesture. She took him in, even after saying no.

His eyes jumped to her, and his head cleared — he got it. He knew, he felt it, he understood.

He got up and got on the bed, unbothered by the fact that he was just in boxers and doubting that she would care. She had snuggled up to him the night before, so he felt at liberty to do the same now and breathe her in. That orchid scent resonated with him ever since they met; if she had accepted his invitation, she would have discovered that he had multiple orchids in his apartment. White, pink, and purple, and not just because of the aesthetic. Those flowers were comforting to him.

That was how Angie woke up — with Namjoon hugging her from behind quietly. She thought he could have still been asleep but wanted to check up on him anyway, so she turned around in his arms very slowly.

His dark eyes were expecting her, and she instantly cupped his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He sighed lightly while she was concentrating on taking in his expression, the bags under his eyes, and the tiredness in his lines. The more he looked at her, the more certain he became.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry for bothering you like that in the middle of the night.”

“No.” She instantly brushed his cheek down the stubble she had asked him to keep. “It’s okay. Do you feel sick?”

He shook his head. “Thank you for the medicine.”

Her lips showed a small momentary smile before sadness took over her features, and she took her hand away. He could see that she didn’t know what to say, but he did.

“If you don’t mind, I… I’d like to talk about last night,” he started, and she nodded.

“I wasn’t rejecting you,” she said anxiously, trying to search for words. “When I asked what the point was—”

“There was a point,” he interrupted, knowing exactly what he wanted to say. “A reason why I invited you and had to leave once you said no. It’s the same reason I came here last night, why I want your number, why I don’t want tomorrow to come.” He swallowed his wavering voice. Tomorrow meant the end. “I know it’s not what we agreed, and I know there’s no solution.” Her eyes were glistening, and in her silence, he felt accepted. If she wasn’t shutting him down, then it meant she felt the same. Saw the same, and knew where he was going. “I can’t give you anything.” He almost chuckled despite the deep heartache inside his chest. “Even if you’d want it, I can’t.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Namjoon—”

“Let me say it, Angie,” he was certain despite the emotion in his voice. Saying her name had him smiling, and her glistening eyes assured him. “Please. Last night I was angry because I thought I felt this way by myself. I thought I was falling into this rabbit hole alone, and I didn’t know how that was possible. Because when I look at you, when we’re together, I just know that we feel the same way.”

“We do,” her voice trembled as her hand cupped his cheek again.

“I know,” he assured her, kissing her hand. “And I’m sorry. For being reckless. I want to scream at the universe that I don’t give a flying fuck about anything else but us, right here. If I could, I would give everything to you. Everything I am, my life, it would be yours, ours. Fucking ours—”

“Wait—”

“But I can’t,” he finished, pressing his lips to her palm again to focus his emotions. He could hear hers in her voice as well, and it just hurt. His eyes opened to see her tearful gaze, and it hurt. Their reality just hurt. “My body, my time, my dedication… It belongs to something bigger than myself.”

“I know that.”

“And that’s why you said no.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“But my heart—”

“Namjoon—”

“My heart,” he insisted, leaning to touch their foreheads. “I can give that.”

Her eyebrows were furrowing in worry. “It will hurt.”

“I don’t care. For as long as you’re here, you have it. Why think about anyone else and hold them to your standard when you’re right here? When you exist right here, even if only right now?”

She closed her eyes with a grimace. “I don’t want us to hurt.”

“I’m not hurting,” he assured her, fingers brushing her cheekbone gently. “Are you?”

“Honestly?” A sob interrupted her. “I might.”

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly, sorrowful. “I can leave if you want me to.��

“I don’t want you to leave.” Her voice was laced with anxiety as she stared into his eyes. “I want you to stay. Be the person I was searching for and found, not the one I have to let go.”

Her voice became a whisper as tears ran down her face to the pillow, and he held her even tighter. “I’m sorry, I think I’m both. I think I’m both again.”

She shut her eyes and nodded, anguish blocking her throat, though there was nothing she could have said. Only his caring lips as he leaned and kissed the salty traces over her nose allowed her to breathe. Instantly, another sob stole her breath, and he saved her by connecting their lips and pressing her to him. He kept her together by doing so, breathing life into her through their kiss.

It hurt so much, but she held him back, diving into him desperately. She wanted to breathe, but more than that, she wanted to be with him. To share the same universe, the same time, the same breath. To know that his kiss didn’t have a deadline because neither did the feeling inside her heart.

She let his arms pick her up, too focused on spelling her heart through their tongues to stop him from pulling her over him. Her hands and forearms took support on his chest without a second thought, even when he pulled her leg so she’d be comfortably straddling him.

She just wanted to kiss him, breathe him in, and never let go, but the way she wanted him was spreading through her, overflowing from her blood and heightening her senses. Her tongue pressed harder, stealing his breath as his hands secured her over him, and the moment she moved, he took her further.

Her whimper got lost in his mouth, and he swallowed it, helping her in the push and pull that had her dragging her core over his hard shaft. There were boxers and panties in the way, but they were laughably barely barriers preventing him from aligning with her and urging for more. She was burning hot with the urge to have him, their passionate kiss reaching such depths that she didn’t know if they were breathing.

That must have been why she was forced to pull away and breathe, and one look at his kiss-bruised lips was enough. His dark eyes reflected hers, and it took only a second to reach the nightstand and grab a condom. She got off him to take her underwear off, throwing his oversized shirt away on the floor as well, in time for him to guide her hips over him after he had already gotten rid of his underwear.

He sat up and searched for a kiss with entranced eyes. He was focused on her: her furrowed eyebrows, her flushed cheeks, her tearful eyes, her pressed lips, her damp skin as she guided their bodies to connect once more, and they both groaned.

Their mouths parted as he fell back into the pillow, pleasure shooting through him so harshly he was dizzy for a moment. That was until she rolled her hips and he groaned again, so incredibly sensitive and connected to her, he could see and feel nothing else.

She reached to trace his jaw, and his soothing hands and arms embracing her guided her to find comfort close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him, rocking over him with his help as their kiss continued. His hands were restless over her curves, only solid enough to make sure she stayed in place as he moved. Usually, he’d prefer that she searched and moved to her wishes, but now he couldn’t. He wanted to love her just as much, to meet halfway, and so he was pushing into her as well, raising his hips to crash against hers with every swing. Listening to how she moaned and panted into his mouth drove him wild, a part of him focused on the sparkling pleasure from their connection, on the frenzy they both were in that was straight out of the most scorching fire he could have ever imagined.

But that was not a fantasy or imagination; it was quite simply the way they were and felt together, and he loved it. He loved her whimpers, her desperation and simultaneous disregard for breathing, her hazed gaze on him, her embrace, her tight core connecting them in an overwhelming way, and yet so right.

He was so focused on her that he saw every little detail when she burst: her knitted eyebrows, shut eyes, scrunched nose as her chin fell open, and the music he longed to hear flowed from her lips. Her pleasure touched him in such a way, with their bodies sliding in their sweat and slick as he nibbled and kissed her neck reverently. When her orgasm subsided, he squeezed her to him. She panted, her heart racing near his, then her kiss dragged over his cheek to his ear.

“Switch with me.”

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t expect that request, but she was delighted that he instantly rolled over her. He kissed her cheeks as she recovered with a smile on her face; Namjoon wasn’t the type of guy to just take advantage and start fucking her. He would, of course, if she asked like she had before, but not now. Now, he was quite simply adoring her while she caught her breath, and it made her want him a thousand times over.

He was dragging his lips over her sweaty forehead in between wet strands of hair when she pressed his hips to move inside her. Instantly, he searched for her eyes and they locked, her hands still pushing and pulling to help him, and it was enough.

She took his kiss as soon as he gave it, and let him push her legs, bending them down to the mattress parallel to her body. It only had him accommodated better in their connection, and she couldn’t have been more blissful. He moved inside her, moaning over her lips, overwhelmed with their pleasure together, and she sought to hold him and kiss him harder. She moved with him, meaning to give everything she could and more, so when his hand traced her side to brush and feel a breast, she moaned approvingly, not breaking away from their kiss for an instant, even one that sweet. The way he was crashing into her was thunderous but sweet in all the ways that mattered, and her only desperation was to sway with him, and again and again, for as long as their breaths lasted and their tongues could still speak of love.

Her moans were becoming rarer since she had no breath, but it didn’t matter. Not until his hand dragged to her neck, squeezing it gently right before rising to cup her cheek, but it was enough. She broke away then, desperate to moan the overpowering orgasm toppling her over uncontrollably. She supported his head when he hid in her neck, moaning, sinking so deep she could feel every twitch buried inside her somewhere she couldn’t place.

Her mouth was still open, gasping for breath, when he searched for her lips, still quivering inside her, before he had to hide again and recover as well. She was drained, too hot, languid, and happy to think about anything at all. Not until he rose to his forearms and looked at her with urgency, and she was instantly attentive.

“I love you.”

She thought her heart would have stopped, but no, it kept beating happily. Instead, her eyes teared up until he blurred. “I love you too.”

She smiled so happily with tears sliding down to her hairline that his heart shook. Her hand pressed him by the back of his neck to kiss her, and he thought that was it. Her sweet kiss connected to his soul and sedimented that feeling inside him as his eyes watered. He knew she was the one for him, but now it was the truth. Like the ocean waves crashing with the phases of the moon, or the inexorable passage of time, loving her had just become his tenet.

Yoongi hummed. “But if she’s leaving tomorrow, is it okay to say goodbye today?”

Hyejin nodded with a purse of her lips as they exited the elevator to get to her apartment. “Yeah… I mean, I’d prefer to send her off tomorrow, but I feel like she needs that time with Namjoon, you know?” Yoongi nodded as they walked. “Did you— I mean, you know Namjoon. Did you also feel like they were…”

She didn’t know how to put into words the way they had been close during dinner, but Yoongi understood her. “Yes. They love each other.”

Hyejin sighed as they stopped in front of her door. “I know.” Sadness took over her chest at the thought that life was separating them yet again. “They were a match made in heaven from the start.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement and stayed still, waiting for her to unlock her front door, yet she pursed her lips.

“I changed it.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And forgot it already?”

She could see the hint of a smile on his lips; it had happened to him, too, on occasion. But she only licked her lips. “It’s the day I moved back from the US.”

He didn’t hesitate; he put the grocery bag he was holding on the floor so he’d have one free hand and typed it effortlessly. The door beeped, and he pushed it open before grabbing the bag again and looking at her. She was smiling with tearful eyes, a sob seconds away from breaking away, when he held her hand.

She looked at him, at his confident gaze, and squeezed back his hand before leaning to grab one of the bags so he wouldn’t carry everything by himself. They walked inside together.

“Remember when we talked about time?”

Namjoon’s voice was quiet, vibrating in his chest where Angie’s head rested. She was sitting on his lap in the car, his arms around her safely as his driver took them to the airport. She didn’t want to be apart from him, and despite the stink eye from the driver at her sitting like that, Namjoon had just held her.

He also didn’t want to part from her, so he held her tightly as he petted her head. He had told his driver to drive slowly and safely, and it was exactly what he was doing.

“Yes.”

He didn’t have to search her face to know her eyes were closed, remembering just as well as he did. “Those time theories also link to multiple dimensions, right?”

She hummed, “Hmm, maybe. Some defend that multiple dimensions could happen regardless of time, as they’d be parallel. Some defend that time is an illusion or just a variable, and as such, it is static or influences nothing. Others think that time is a constant and as such, multiverses must converge and diverge as dictated by time.” She spoke slowly, then sighed; he didn’t ask because he wanted a lesson. “There’s no proof of multiverses, just the theoretical possibility.”

“A possibility?”

She hummed again. “If an electron can be at any time in any point of space within its cloud, then it should be possible that it indeed is at any given time. You can think that it is so fast that it is in all places at once, or you can think that there are as many dimensions as positions that it could be in.”

The car fell quiet, and she pulled away to look at him. He looked sad and she heaved a deep breath.

“Yes, it is possible.”

He nodded and his lips curved ever so slightly. “Then… could there be one dimension where we’re together?”

Her eyes instantly retained the tears she was trying to keep at bay, and she smiled. “Hopefully more than one.” She brushed his cheek. “Ours is probably one of those.”

He nodded and leaned into her touch. He was happy they had met, for every moment they had together, and for how he felt, even if it hurt. Looking into her eyes, he knew she felt the same way.

“Have you thought of what you’ll do when you get back?”

Her expression stayed at ease, but her gaze looked far. “I’m still not sure, but I want to scout my options. I want to see what is out there that I could do to feel fulfilled. I’m open to that, so we’ll see.”

He nodded, knowing by the road signs that the airport was close. “I’m sure you’ll get great opportunities.”

She nodded with a smile before noticing a familiar sight through the window — she recognized that parking spot.

The car stopped, and the driver instantly left to get her luggage from the back and give them privacy.

“Next time I see you, you’ll probably be married with kids,” she teased before looking at him again.

He smirked, knowing she was joking, and shook his head. “I don’t think so. But you… maybe.”

“Pfft, yeah right.” She laughed, then shrugged. “Knowing me… I doubt it.”

His features were soft, but his eyes were fixed on his arms around her waist, and she knew why. But she wanted it to be as light and bittersweet as last time, even if everything was so much more now.

“Are we making this a habit?”

His eyes raised to hers, and her playfulness relaxed him. “Maybe.”

In his book, making saying goodbye at the airport a habit wasn’t even a bad thing. It was better than it being the last time.

“I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but I’ll definitely come and visit Hyejin again, so…” Her voice trailed off.

“I’ll be here.”

“Can’t say I’d mind that.”

She was speaking her heart, even though she knew everything could change at any time. She hoped he didn’t mind, and when he chuckled, she knew he didn’t.

“Maybe Yoongi and Hyejin will tie the knot one day.”

“They looked so great together, right?” she asked with a smile, thinking back to the dinner the night before. She had never seen them interact for so long, and looking at them, she thought Hyejin had never looked so free and happy. And they weren’t even together yet.

“Yes, they did,” he sighed. “It’s like seeing puzzle pieces finally coming together, you just know they form a better and complete picture this way.”

Her smile widened happily. “So maybe one day I’ll get to be her bridesmaid again.”

She could see the way he receded inside, eyes focusing yet again on their embrace as his light expression dropped.

“If that happens, I’m counting on you,” she continued. “The universe knows I don’t understand Korean and could use interesting company.”

“It’s a deal,” he rasped, eyes on her again. They were red and shiny, and before she could comfort him, words were falling out like a waterfall, “I don’t regret it. Anything. Being with you, loving you,” a sob interrupted him, and she cupped his cheeks, “no matter how much I’ll miss you.”

“I know,” she whispered, leaning to join their foreheads.

“I did the best I could. I spent every second I could with you, and I loved you the best I could,” he voiced, and she kept holding him. He needed her to know that, and she was listening. “There’s no point in regretting, it won't change anything.”

She could see his lip trembling, but she didn’t want to shut him up. She wanted to love him dearly, and listening and soothing him were part of it.

“Hey,” she called his attention. “If time is absolute and only goes forward, then regretting is meaningless. But looking forward… we might still do something good. Like—”

Her throat blocked as her emotions caught back with her, and he nodded, nuzzling her. “I know.” He knew what she was going to say. “There could still be a future in which we will see each other again.”

She smiled despite the tears flowing down her cheeks. “Ah, see. Time theories.”

He smiled too, even with a tear wetting his cheek. “This is when you stop thinking when I kiss you.”

He pressed his lips gently to hers, and she hugged him crushingly, squeezing him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. Then, she hid in his neck for a moment during which all he did was breathe in her sweet orchid perfume. At least until she pulled away, cleaning her cheeks.

He knew what she would say next, but he couldn’t hear it, so he changed the subject. “I have something for you.”

He reached out to the console in the center of the car and opened it, then handed her two things. It took her a moment to realize what those were.

“It’s a CD and a portable CD player,” he explained, and she turned the CD to see his handwriting. “I made it for you when I… When I got drunk,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I wanted there to be a physical way to convey this music to you, and I thought you wouldn’t have a CD player with you, so I got you one.”

She smirked. “No, my laptop doesn’t have one.”

“I figured.” He nodded, hopeful with the lightness in her expression. “I thought you could listen to it during the flight since it’s so long, but you can do it whenever you feel like.”

“I will listen to it as soon as I’m in the clouds,” she promised, giving him a meaningful look. She couldn’t risk pulling her heart strings, or she might just run back. “Thank you. I… have nothing for you, sorry,” she apologized sheepishly.

“I don't need anything—”

A familiar alarm buzzed, and she reached for her phone to stop it. “Well.”

Her stomach twisted; they both knew what that meant. She couldn’t look at him, not if she wanted to make it, so she grabbed her handbag to carry her phone, the CD, and the CD player, then reached for the car door to open it and get out.

She didn’t face him, so she didn’t see how his heart dropped as he watched her move robotically. He knew she had to, he knew there was nothing to be done, and yet he wanted her to stop.

So he rubbed his eyes before seeing her step out; he didn’t want to see her go. But he didn’t want to regret anything, and not setting his eyes on her until the very last second would be something he surely would.

So he uncovered his eyes. “Have a safe—”

A mouth crashing to his shut him up, and his gut twisted inside him as he reached to grab her head and taste her, taste everything until the last second. Her hands clutched his shirt over his chest to keep him close, and he supported them, letting her know it was okay. Just as it was when their kisses relented like sea waves losing strength with the lowering tide until they calmed and stilled.

She pulled away, and their eyes connected once more before she nuzzled him once and pulled away. The driver was waiting with her luggage, and she thanked him and bowed deeply before glancing at Namjoon with a smile and walking away.

She couldn’t have known how long he stayed there watching her become smaller and disappear behind the airport glass doors, even after his driver sat back inside. He knew to wait, and so they did.

Namjoon took the time to feel everything, from the remnants of the pressure of her lips to the heaviness inside his chest. He stayed, just feeling and honoring the depth of his heart and their universes together.

Until he opened his eyes and closed the car door with a hint of lightness. That was their universe and their dimension. He chose to believe they’d see each other again.

Angie was flying high in the sky hours later. Her stomach was twisting alongside her trembling heart; it made her uncomfortable, but listening to the CD made it better. Just thinking that he intended for her to listen to those songs, to every word, made her pay attention nearly solemnly. It was what kept her dinner inside her belly and her tears from spilling, until the last track.

She instantly noticed it would be different because the quality was not the same, and she could hear noise, as if the whole room was being recorded. And then, there was no melody. Nothing. Until someone took a breath near the microphone, and she felt it down her spine.

He started talking, and it was in English and felt like a poem. She knew he was a poet; that was the best way to describe his art, so she listened attentively, gripping the CD player for support.

But if it ends, It doesn’t have to be bitter. You’ll figure out the time And I’ll make another song for you. In the end, Maybe who knows We’re just two people Who couldn’t forget each other.

Part 3 >

25 notes · View notes

sjsmith56 · 3 months ago

Text

Assignment Bucky Barnes, Chapter 33 - Revealing Truths

Summary: Ariel finally learns the truth about everything, then has to decide whether to stay in the 22nd century or return to the 21st with Bucky.

Length: 5.7 K

Characters: Ariel, Merton, Peri, Will, Bucky.

Warnings: Regrets, historians are flawed humans.

Author notes: Despite some things being known by the future historians, Mason’s interference could have changed everything. Freedom to choose was always going to be there for Ariel.

<<Chapter 32

The hug that Ariel received from Peri Wayne surprised her, reminding her of the similar hug she received from the woman after Merton almost died. There was no explanation for it from the older woman, but her eyes showed an emotion towards Ariel that she had never expressed before. Then the medical team came and ushered Ariel away to be treated. For several hours she was questioned, had blood drawn, and was put through a diagnostic unit to make sure nothing was done to her without her knowledge. When they gave her the all-clear she was surprised to find Merton waiting for her in the hallway outside the doors. He had already been restored to his rightful age and she felt comfort at seeing the crinkles in his eyes when he smiled at her.

"You look much better," he said warmly, as he hugged her. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded. "The food they gave me was terrible and they were always drugging my water," she replied. "I took to not drinking it, so I ended up dehydrated. Paulina tried to get water to me. That's how she was caught. Is she alright?"

Merton stopped walking and faced her, trying to find a way to tell her that wasn't too devastating, but knowing it wasn't possible. "She didn't make it," he said. "Mason fatally injured her in 1943. It was too late for the medic to help her."

Ariel staggered back, placing her hand on her face as she began to cry. Merton held her, not wanting to tell her the details here, in the middle of the hallway, but he was done with keeping things from Ariel, well, most things. Putting his arm around her he led her to a lounge room and closed the door after getting her seated on a chair.

"Who was she?" asked Ariel.

He shook his head. "She was a future operative and her real identity is need to know because her current self doesn't know it was her," he said. "She volunteered as she was dying of an incurable cancer. I think she knew she wasn't coming back alive from this assignment. We captured May Weatherly and Mason. The roundup of their current associates is still underway, and we routed all of them from the 1940s."

"All of the trouble they went to, the deaths they caused, kidnapping me," she began. "It wasn't worth it."

"They were true believers," replied Merton. "Bucky helped take down Mason. He's at Peri's now, with Sam. They'll be going back to their time tomorrow. I think you should go back with them."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" she said, feeling a little lost.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm trying ... there's something you need to know. It's going to hurt but you need to know the truth. Come with me."

She allowed herself to be led to Peri's office, where Merton left her to seek out the older woman. When he came back with her Peri stopped when she saw Ariel through the window, and at first, didn't want to enter.

"I can't," she protested. "She'll hate us for lying to her."

"We have to tell her," he said. "I'm done with keeping things from her. She deserves ... hell, I deserve to know everything, because I'm pretty sure you've left a lot out."

Peri's face dropped then she put her hand on his shoulder. "We give up so much for the job," she spoke, sounding defeated. "Even though having her was initially a way to get the assignment done I never regretted having her. She was so beautiful, so perfect. I never knew I could love someone so much."

"She needs to hear that from you and from me," he replied. "For sixteen years she had a mother with Skye, but the Reapers took that away from her. We owe it to her to let her know that she was never alone."

"What if she hates us?" asked Peri. "Listen to me. I'm the chair of the Historian's Guild with powers to rival the most powerful person in the country. Yet, I'm terrified that my own flesh and blood will reject me."

"Then we have to let her go, like you did when you gave her to Skye to be raised as a regular child," he replied. "We'll have to accept her decision. But I can't lie anymore, not to her."

With a nod of her head Peri accepted that the time was right to come clean with their daughter about everything. Together they went into the office. Using the controls in her desk Peri made the windows opaque and locked the door. For the next hour they told Ariel who she really was, why she was conceived, and how her existence triggered the confrontation with the Reapers, then with Phoenix.

When the door was unlocked Ariel ran out, her eyes red and her heart twisted in so many directions that she wasn't sure what to believe any more. Blindly she ran through the interior hallways of the Historian's Guild until she burst through a door to the outside. At the large fountain in front of the building she found a bench that was sheltered and sat there, shaken over the discovery that Merton Andrews and Peri Wayne were her birth parents. About ten minutes after she sat there a shadow appeared in front of her. Looking up she was surprised to see the face of Will Greening, saying his full name out loud to him.

"It's actually Will Meredith," he stated. "You know how it is when we're on assignment. Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not," she replied. "Did you know?" He looked at her blankly. "That Merton and Peri are my birth parents? That they only conceived me to turn me into Bucky Barnes dream woman?"

"No, but it explains a lot," he said. "I've never seen either of them rattled but when you went missing it was like a switch was turned on. Both of them became very engaged in the investigation. What else did they tell you?"

"Are you speaking as a security chief or as a friend?" asked Ariel. "Not that I know you that well."

"But you knew that I was a security chief?"

"Why else were you on my rescue mission?" she asked. "Were you security chief in Brooklyn as well?"

"Not a very good one since I managed to get the shit kicked out of me by some Nazis, and I almost got Captain America killed," he replied. He sighed. "I guess they had their reasons not to tell you, probably the most important one was to keep your parentage a secret so that Lowell Mason didn't find out about you."

"Yet he did, and he apparently was training his own daughter to be my doppelgänger, until Peri authorized her sanction. That led to the Reapers taking out headquarters, and killing my adoptive mother, Skye Paxton."

It was a good thing Ariel wasn't looking at him at that moment or she would have seen his surprised reaction, as fleeting as it was. He didn't speak as a couple walked past them then he looked at her.

"You know, our whole profession, being tasked with protecting the truth, can't be done, unless we live a life of lies," he began. "We insert ourselves into history, under assumed names, and occupations, with a made up back story, and we spy on people, sometimes not even people with historical significance. We do that to provide a supposedly unbiased perspective of life in different eras, trying to portray those times in a historically accurate way. What's worse, is that if we want a regular life, with a spouse, a family, even real friends, we have to step back from our life's work and give it all up for love."

"They didn't," smirked Ariel. "They tried to have me on the sly. But they were caught, and Peri was only allowed to carry me to term if she gave me up. What type of woman gives up her child to keep her job?"

"Were you happy?" he asked. "Did Skye Paxton do a good job as your mother?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point," said Ariel. "Peri chose her job over me."

"Sounds like she had a hard decision to make," responded Will. "Give up your life's work, of fighting the influence of those who would destroy people's lives in a bid to take control of them versus retreating to a private life and raising your child. You do know that Peri's parents were killed by the Hidden Ones, another HYDRA offshoot. It's why she became a historian, to uncover their activities to the light of day. It's why she was obsessed with understanding everything about James Buchanan Barnes. There were other people forced into servitude with HYDRA, but he was the only one to wound them deeply enough with his escape that it took decades for them to even think of rebuilding."

"How do you know all this and not know that she was my birth mother?" asked Ariel incredulously.

"Because the security division is always watching the historians, watching for the one who uses their station to become that which they fought, a tyrant," he said. "Peri Wayne has a security file so large that it should cause concern, but it doesn't. It's also heavily redacted because what she did to fight HYDRA, in all of its incarnations, was effective. I guess she even sacrificed raising her own child, entrusting that baby's life and safety to a trusted friend who she was sure would do a much better job of parenting than Peri ever could and keep her daughter safe."

"You think I'm wrong," stated Ariel.

"No, I think you're human," he answered. "Ariel, they did what they thought was best at the time. Were their reasons valid? I don't know, I don't judge them for what happened years ago when they conceived you. But I know you were never out of their thoughts and when you joined Merton as a historian, he was so proud of you. Where was he when you and Bucky broke up?"

"Waiting nearby," she admitted. "He helped get me home, took care of me, and closed the store for several days to stay with me."

She put her face into her hands for a moment.

"Have you ever seen a picture of Peri as a young woman?" asked Will. "I can tell you right now, there are none in the archives, but Merton has some. He has a physical photo album of you that includes several from the day you were born and from the month they were allowed to have with you before Skye legally adopted you. Knowing he's your father explains a lot." His mouth was set in a firm line then he swallowed and looked at her. "Peri looked exactly like Paulina."

"She was Paulina? But Paulina died."

"Yes, she did, I was there," said Will. "She was definitely Peri, but she came from 30 years from now and Peri from now doesn't know that she was the operative from the future. You realize by me telling you these things I've compromised my standing as a security chief. I don't care anymore. I was all ready to stay in 1940 with a woman I fell in love with, then I got critically injured in that fight and they had to declare me dead in that timeline. I missed out on a wife and a family because I intervened for another man, wouldn't stand back and let that mob kill him." His face showed all of his disappointment with how his life was changed by a HYDRA influenced mob of young thugs. "I don't regret that, but I do regret that it wasn't me that married Rita Warren, and it wasn't me that fathered her children." He stood up. "Don't let your anger destroy your relationship with two people ... no three people, who love you so much that they were willing to put their lives on the line to help rescue you. I'm going to go now. I always say too much when I get emotional about something." He began walking away then turned back. "For the record, don't let anyone know I told you these things. Even Merton doesn't know that I'm aware of the photo album."

He walked back inside the guild headquarters, hesitating when he saw Peri and Merton. Neither of them said anything and he kept walking, knowing they probably heard everything he said but not regretting a single word of it. Outside, still seated on the bench, Ariel's brain was working overtime. When she first took on Assignment Bucky Barnes, she was ready to go further than any other historian to really find out what made him tick prior to his fame, and infamy. The attraction to him was almost instant and it was mutual. He bared his soul to her in ways that she had never experienced before. Within the constraints imposed on her she did the same with him. If she hadn't been a historian he would have been the love of her life. He still is.

Will's admission that he was the secret love of Rita Warren was surprising. Miss Warren, as she was always referred to in the library, was his secret love in return. He loved her enough that he considered leaving the future for a life in the past with that quiet, sweet natured woman. It meant he would have likely signed up for the army, like other men of his age at the time, exposing him to injury and death in World War II, until a brain injury suffered in a fight against Nazi thugs took him out of the timeline. Ariel remembered that time when the death of that nice looking accountant was talked about in the neighbourhood, noticing how pale the woman seemed whenever Will Greening's name was brought up. It was another year before she met Roy Beaton, a shy bachelor who helped pick up the books from her book cart when a wheel came off, sending the contents onto the floor. They only dated a few months before Pearl Harbor, then he enlisted and asked her to marry him after basic training, going through with it two weeks before he shipped out to Europe, probably on the same ship Bucky had been on. You still love him.

What could she do about her parents? Her parents ... how many times did she catch Merton looking at her with a soft smile on his face? She remembered talking with him about how he had been out in the field in the same timeline for 23 straight years, the same length of time she had been alive, thinking it was quite the coincidence. But it wasn't, he was banished to Montana for his part in her conception. That he had been promoted to a supervising historian in proximity to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes meant that his dedication to the profession was above reproach. He achieved that before Peri was chair, before the Reapers destroyed Guild headquarters. He fathered a child with another historian, against the rules of the guild, then proved his loyalties by staying away, until the day he pulled her out of the portal bubble, bringing her to life in 1940. How many times did he comfort her, advise her, and protect her, then helped support her home when she had nothing left inside after she walked away from Bucky in Walt Whitman Park? He loved you as a father.

That left Peri, the woman who took her in after her mother died, mentored her, and encouraged her to develop her potential ... but for what? To reclaim the child she gave up? To instruct her in the art of seduction in order to attract and keep the attention of a notorious ladies' man? Even worse, Ariel felt like she had been used as bait to draw out members of the Reapers, who now called themselves Phoenix; such ridiculous names for a bunch of misfits who saw themselves as the supreme leaders of the future. Unless this was also to ensure that she could go back with Bucky, could have a life with him that Peri would never have. Ultimately, she gave her life to help catch Lowell Mason in the act of committing so many crimes that he would never get out in his lifetime. If Ariel went back in time with Bucky would their descendants be safe as well? She began to hyperventilate with the realization that her descendants were also Peri's. Peri Wayne was protecting her family, the only family she would ever have, the descendants of her only child, Ariel Paxton.

Standing up she quickly walked then ran towards the door into the Guild headquarters, somehow not surprised to see Peri and Merton standing just inside. She opened the door and faced them.

"Do you have descendants in this time frame?" she asked. "Were you protecting them?"

"Yes, but it wasn't enough," said Peri. "Even though we planted evidence about Bucky being sterile and your children being conceived with the help of a sperm donor there were always attempts on them, several of them successful. Lowell Mason somewhat believed the evidence, but others through the years saw the resemblance to Bucky, as his genome is so strong that the blue eyes and dark hair are inherited by many of your descendants."

"What happens if I don't go back, if I stay here," she said. "Do they cease to exist?"

"I'm unsure," admitted Peri. "We could all disappear or cease to exist because that would be a major deviation from a known timeline. Ariel, at this point, I just want you to be happy. He made you happy and if you were born a hundred years sooner, and him a hundred years later, there wouldn't have been all the need for this because you could have met each other on your own."

That was the truth of it, as she had felt the same herself. If she didn't return to 2024 with Bucky Barnes, she was sealing the fate of possibly dozens of people, people who were alive right now. She would regret that and as Will pointed out regret for not doing something was worse than regret for acting with purpose.

"I have to talk to Bucky," she said.

"Then let's call an air car," said Peri. "Do you mind if we come? There are some things still to be said before you go."

With a nod of her head Ariel accompanied them up to a vehicle dock where instructions were given to the piloted vehicle to go to Peri's residence. On the way there Peri and Merton told her the rest of the truth about everything, including how Skye was actually trapped in the past and chose to stay there. When Merton told her that Skye Paxton was Victoria Houseman she didn't react with anger but with sadness that they never had the chance to be truthful with each other. Knowing that Victoria Houseman had two daughters there, and a husband off to war, she couldn't blame her for not letting on who she really was. She had made the decision to stay and that meant Ariel couldn't know about their relationship. When the air car docked, and a security agent came to help Peri out he saw Ariel was with her.

"Mr. Barnes is in his room," he announced. "Mr. Wilson is in the solarium."

"Thank you," said Peri, turning to Ariel. "Merton and I will go visit with Sam. Take as long as you need with Bucky."

Inside the room Bucky had just stepped out of the shower, wearing only a towel. That was the first thing he did when he returned from his restoration in the persona room. They even cut his hair in the style he wanted and removed the full beard he wore during his return to the 1940s. A polite knock brought him out of the bathroom, and he opened the door expecting to see Sam. He was startled to see it was Ariel. Suddenly Bucky realized his body was quite exposed and she was staring at his shoulder, her mouth open but nothing coming out of it for several long seconds.

"They hurt you so much," she finally said in a small voice, tentatively raising her hand to his shoulder then lowering it. "So many scars."

"The scars closest to the seam are older," he said, looking down. "They'll never disappear although newer scars take about a month to fade. Come in while I put some clothes on."

Before she could protest, he was gone, picking up some clothing from the bed and going back into the bathroom. He returned in the act of pulling a T-shirt over his head. Neither said anything for a moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Sam said you didn't look well when they rescued you."

"I'm fine. They drugged my water bottles to keep me docile. Then one of them tried to assault me but I knocked him out with a chair. You helped capture Mason?"

He nodded. "Yeah, though we lost an operative."

"I know, Will told me." She sat on a sofa and waited for Bucky to sit with her. "Here's the thing. Everyone is telling me I should go to 2024 with you but I don't want to go if you only want me for pity's sake."

Her eyes began to fill with tears and Bucky shifted to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"You think I only feel pity for you?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "It took over 80 years, but I came through a gauntlet, Ariel, and now I'm in front of you, both of us alive at the same moment of time with our whole lives in front of us. I want you as much as I wanted you in 1943. I want you to come home with me, marry me, have my children or not, and live with me until death us do part. Do you forgive me for how I hurt you?"

Tears began to fall as she kept looking at him, breathing noticeably. "I don't know how," she whispered.

"Say it," he replied. "Just say it. Say you forgive me. Start with that. I forgave you for not being Ariel Black the moment I saw you because you're still the woman I instantly fell in love with in 1940."

His eyes glistened as she began to cry then he gathered her in his arms and held her, kissing her face before kissing her on the lips. She responded, kissing him back while grasping him tightly to her. When they finally broke apart, she looked at him and caressed his face.

"I forgive you," she said, her chin trembling. "I haven't been well emotionally since I got back from 1943. Are you sure you really want me?"

"Positive," replied Bucky. "Who else am I going to listen to Benny Goodman with, or know what I mean when I talk about the Brooklyn Dodgers, or understand when I get irritated over how expensive a dozen eggs are? You've lived in the 40s. You get me."

"I'm scared," admitted Ariel. "All my life I've been focused on being a historian and being out in the field. I don't know what I can do in 2024. I need something."

"Libraries haven't changed that much," said Bucky. "If there's one thing I learned about historians from my current experience, is that you're very adaptable. You'll be good at whatever you end up doing."

They heard a meow and looked down to see Rosie rubbing against Bucky's legs.

"How did you get in here? I can't believe you kept her," he chuckled, picking the ginger cat up and scratching behind her ears.

"I couldn't leave her there, plus Walter died," she replied. "I really did have a dog named Walter but I left him with a friend. He died of a seizure while I was in Brooklyn."

"I'm sorry, that must have been the icing on the cake when you got back," said Bucky sympathetically.

The cat squirmed after a few moments, and he let her down to focus on Ariel again. Gently, he touched her hair, playing with it between the fingers of his right hand.

"It's real," she smiled. "I'm a natural redhead, just like you said. My mother, Peri, had natural red hair and my father, Merton, carried the gene for it."

"I know," he replied. "Merton admitted he was your father when I asked him. They told you everything?"

"Everything, including about Victoria Houseman," she said.

"She gave me a message for you, mainly that working with you was a joy. She was so proud of you, of the woman you became, at growing to become the daughter she envisioned."

"I admired her as well," admitted Ariel. "I wish I had met her daughters and could tell them what a wonderful mother she was."

"Maybe they're still alive," said Bucky, then he chuckled. "You know, I had come to the decision to lead a more or less celibate life, thinking that not finding someone in 2024 was my penance for what I did to you." Ariel tried to speak but he shook his head. "Sam and I tried to find out what happened to you on one of those ancestry websites. You didn't exist and we looked at some secure websites but there was only one entry; an Ariel Anne Black that was born on your birthday, in 1998."

"That's odd," she said.

"Then Sam's laptop suddenly shut down and Merton and Peri appeared in the doorway, telling us that person didn't exist, yet. They told us they needed our help to convince you to come back to 2024. They didn't tell me they were your parents, but I could tell you meant a lot to them because they were both shaken by how you destroyed all your records on me. Why didn't you publish?"

"Because the observations weren't objective," she answered. "Even the video files were coloured by the relationship between us and to me it was obvious there was a relationship. It made me feel like a fraud, like I had tricked you into loving me so that I could get all of your secrets." She stopped but he kept looking at her, knowing there was more. "I didn't want the guild to know that I fell in love with you, on my first assignment, and that I was totally destroyed by what happened between us. How would it look for the great Peri Wayne's protégé to violate the line between researcher and subject?"

"Except she knew you would," he replied. "I met one of our descendants from this time. Her name was also Peri, but she went by the name Patricia Warden, and she was 19 years old. She went back to 1943 to kill Mason and Weatherly. I intercepted her and convinced her to leave vengeance to someone else. Paulina knew about her so that meant she knew you would cross that line and that we would get married, be fruitful, and multiply."

"Peri helped me destroy the notebooks and the diary once I made the decision," said Ariel, shaking her head. "She allowed me to burn my bridges so that I could choose to go back with you. I should stay, just to screw around with her." Bucky tilted his head at those words, making her smile and kiss him. "I'm not staying. For all my attempts to keep on task when you were my assignment, I wanted to be with you more than anything. Now that I can be with you, I won't look back. I want to marry you, James Buchanan Barnes. I want to have your children and I want us to be happy."

This time their kiss was more passionate, as they both realized the opportunity for them as a couple. Ariel, already adept in living out of her own time, knew that she could easily adjust to living in the 2020s, especially if she was with Bucky. For the super soldier, it brought the same feeling he had when he asked Ariel to marry him. Being with her was what he wanted, more than anything.

"So, where do you live now? Still in Brooklyn?"

"No, in Louisiana, near Delacroix, which isn't far from New Orleans," he replied. "I have a nice house that I've been fixing up. Sam and his sister and her kids live just down the road. There will be times I'm on a mission but in between I'm quite the homebody. Do you still bake apple pie?"

She smiled. "Not since I got back but I do like baking. When I was researching the 1940s, I practiced cooking with the other historians. We shared recipes and critiqued each other's efforts. I got pretty good at it."

"I don't expect you to be the wife I thought I wanted in 1943," said Bucky, looking intently at her. "I've picked up some cooking skills, and I've done my own research on attempting to be more in tune with what a modern woman wants. If I ever let that old controlling guy out, don't be afraid to tell me. I don't want to ever lose you again."

"Deal," she said, then she looked at the bed. "Am I staying here tonight?"

"Please. As much as I would like to be with you this instant, I think we should make a combined appearance right now. I can imagine they're waiting to see if we've kissed and made up."

"Even when the future seems set it's always in flux." She stood up, looking up at him, suddenly realizing how much bigger he was than in 1943. "How tall were you in the 1940s?"

"Almost six feet," he replied. "I'm 6 foot 2 inches now, and about 50 pounds heavier. I've bulked up in the chest, shoulders, and thighs, mostly. My life span is unknown."

She nodded. "Paulina said I would retain the longer lifespan of this future. The oldest person alive right now is 152 years old but most people live until they're about 120 or 130 years old." She smiled. "Before I leave, I have to get my birth control implant out. It's not something that will be available in the 21st century. It will take a few days for the effects to wear off." Gently, she placed her palms on his chest and looked up at him. "I'm in no rush to get another one."

"I'm still old fashioned enough to want to be married first," he replied. "Are you alright with that?"

She nodded and moved one hand up to his cheek. With Ariel on her tip toes and Bucky bending over they crushed their lips together somewhere in the middle. Picking her up completely he held her tight against his chest as they kissed for several minutes before slowly letting her down. Together they went to the bedroom door and opened it. Rosie sped out the door ahead of them, her tail upright as she ran ahead, looking back every so often until they arrived at the solarium, where Peri, Merton and Sam were sitting.

"Hey, here they are," said Sam, standing up. "Everything settled between you two?"

"Ariel's coming back with me," replied Bucky, holding her hand. "It's been over 80 years since I lost her. Now that I have her back, I don't want to be without her ever again."

"We'll get married in 2024," added Ariel. "Bucky said there is a record of me but born in 1998. Does that mean there's identification for me as well?"

"We'll contact the resident historian," replied Merton. "He's quite good at getting official documents."

"For tonight, we'll celebrate," said Peri. "I understand there are several historians who want to send you off in style. If you're okay with that. They were all concerned about you after your return. I think once Bucky came here with us and agreed to help, they figured you would go back with him."

"Well, we'll make it a party to remember, won't we?" stated Ariel, looking at all of them.

It was a memorable party as they took over a restaurant in New York. Even Bucky had a good time, surprising Sam who worried that being among that many strangers would trigger his anxiety but with Ariel by his side the super soldier seemed more like the Bucky Barnes of old, charming, confident, and able to hold his own as the subject of many questions. Will Greening made sure the music at the restaurant was all from the 20th and early 21st century, even cajoling Peri to dance with him. At the end of the evening, after Ariel had hugged many of her colleagues and they were in a large air car with the others headed back to Peri's apartment, she looked with love at Bucky.

"You finally got to ride in a flying car," she said.

"I did," he smiled. "More than once. We have quinjets and the Wakandans have Talon fighters, but there's something about being in a vehicle that looks like a car from the inside but flies through the air. I dreamed of them when I was a boy and I'll always remember what it felt like to be in one."

He thought of Howard Stark's dream of building a flying car, feeling regret at his part in the man's demise. Ariel touched his hand then and smiled, almost as if she could read where his mind was at. Raising her hand to his lips he focused on the here and now, especially at the prospect of the physical reunion between them that was imminent. Bucky felt like he was 23 again at the thought of Ariel being in his arms. Regaining Ariel was reclaiming his good past, when he was a young man in love, on the cusp of his whole life. Now, after a long interruption, it could go on like it should have in 1943 before everything changed.

Chapter 34>>

Series Masterlist

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes romance #bucky in the future

15 notes · View notes

hellobitchlet · 29 days ago

Text

Before we get to 5.7, I have a little theory that I don't want to happen, but am worried that it's what they're leading up to with Skirk-

Are the 5 sinners going to be handled like the Hexenzirkel was before Sumeru? As in, is sinner lore just going to be their students/younger relatives popping in to talk about them every now and then?

Hear me out! The main thing that makes me think that is the handling of Skirk, the narwhal, and Dain since Fontaine.

Before Fontaine, Skirk had been built up in Childe's character stories as his mysterious and powerful teacher who lives in the Abyss, which implied that she was important. Since he came out, many people have been interested in her and the narwhal. But then when they actually appeared for the first time, Skirk literally just talked about a......... brand new character we've never heard of before who is her teacher, and left.

(Fast forwards to now, we recently got her drip marketing and it was also focused on her master. More than herself.)

A few updates later, we got our yearly traveler quest- Bedtime Story. Before Sumeru, traveler quests focused on Dainsleif a lot. Caribert and Bedtime Story, on the other hand, didn't seem to care about him very much, and chose to focus on new npc's instead. In Bedtime Story, he introduces us to the 5 sinners, and reveals that his brother (who we had never heard of before) was one of them, as well as the new master of Skirk.

So long story short, in the span of a few updates, we took 2 characters who people have been interested in for a long time- who were clearly made to be important- and had them introduce new important characters that they're connected to instead of expanding on their own stories.

This is similar to pre-Sumeru Hexenzirkel bc Albedo, Mona, and Klee used to do this with their teachers/parents all the time, and sometimes they still do. Before The Hexenzirkel Cutscene, all we had to go off of with the Hexenzirkel was Mona's story quest and the 3 talking about them in events occasionally.

Being connected to an important teacher figure is not bad- that's not what I'm saying. Rhine's kids certainly benefitted from it, and so did Childe. But Klee has always just been 'the cute kid who is everyone's little sister', and the last time we even hinted at Mona getting her own plotline was in 1.1. Both Klee and Mona (especially Mona) have spent a lot of time just... referencing their masters, or being in the room when their masters are mentioned.

To list some examples- Klee's mainly played a big role in GAA 1 and Bottleland because her mom invited her there. Her Bottleland skin was literally a costume of her mom. Mona appears in Fontaine's aq out of literally nowhere JUST to drop Hexenzirkel lore and dip. They both only appeared in Windblume 2 to be there for The Hexenzirkel Cutscene. Etc. Etc.

(Side note, notice how the 2 with less notable content are the girls and the 2 with more are the boys. I feel like Klee works fine not doing anything bc she's a young child, but god I wish we continued what Unreconciled Stars had going on with Mona :( )

Hoyo's writing has changed since they wrote Shadows Amidst Snowstorms, and it's changed to prefer the kind of writing they did with Klee and Mona- connecting a character to something important, but then just using them to convey information about Important Thing to you, instead of building up an actual plotline about them. We rarely see anything meaningful come out of characters related to the lore Hoyo is building up- all we get is disconnected info to theorize on.

In recent times, we've seen this with Cyno and Sethos with the Temple of Silence. We've seen this with Neuvillette and dragon lore. We've even seen the House of Hearth kids doing this with Arlecchino and their orphanage! It's been quite a while since we've gotten an Albedo.

This is already a shitty way to handle things as is. It always has been. But if they do that to Skirk and Dainsleif? That's even worse.

Skirk was the female teacher of a male character, who many were excited for because she would presumably be a 'cold', badass, important female character in a game where few playable girls are allowed to be important or have less-than-super-nice personalities. And yet, when she finally comes out, she's suddenly all about this MORE powerful, MORE important male character we had never heard of before??? When her male student always stood on his own as a character, and never even mentioned her before Fontaine??? When he was able to reveal info about other characters without it becoming his whole personality???

And Dain is also an important character, one we've known since the beginning. He's supposed to be a character we meet up with throughout the main story, who is actively involved in the Abyss Order plotline. He's one of the only characters who was practically guaranteed an actual storyline of his own! Despite that, due to the snails pace the alleged AO storyline is going, he's barely done anything. For Genshin to finally decide what they want the traveler quests to be, just to further delegate him to the role of standing around info dumping about other characters... this time about his brother doing things he could've done instead...

That would just be. Shitty. For both of them. And that's not even going into Albedo's future after the bullshit that was Paralogism, since he's a 5 Sinner's student as well.

Again! This is a personal theory and analysis! Don't come after me for making observations that don't assume the best! I know I could be wrong and I hope I am! But hopefully you can see that the way they've handled Skirk and Dain since Fontaine is shitty and suspicious.

#genshin impact #genshin impact critical #technically?#my post #genshin skirk #genshin dainsleif #i hope i explained myself well enough #i feel like i didn't #but fully explaining it to the best of my ability would probably require a full on video essay

12 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 9 months ago

Text

A video of young far-right voters singing an anti-foreigner song at an Alternative for Germany (AfD) party election celebration has triggered outrage online.

The video, in which supporters of the far-right party sing about “kicking” foreigners out, was shot on Sunday evening as they celebrated the party' strong performance in the state election results of Germany’s eastern state of Brandenburg. The AfD came in second at 29.2% behind the center-left Social Democrats, which got 30.2%, increasing its voter haul on the last Brandenburg vote five years ago by 5.7 percentage points. In an apparent attempt to antagonize a small counter demonstration by anti-fascist activists, the young AfD members, who had gathered in a Potsdam bar, started playing a song set to a 2011 dance hit through a portable speaker that included the lyric: “Hey, it’s happening; we’re kicking them out.” One of the partygoers also held up a sign saying: “DEPORT MILLIONS.” According to a German tabloid, Bild, the rewritten song also included the lyric: “This is JA music; every club is on fire here. We’re celebrating like never before; throw your hands in the air.”

JA is the abbreviation for Junge Alternative, the AfD's youth organization.

The video caused outrage after it was posted on the social media platform X and prompted one former Green politician to file a criminal complaint, saying the song incites racial hatred and violence.

AfD targets young people

However, the fact that it was a group of youngsters celebrating the AfD’s results with beer, music, and dancing surprised few.

Data obtained by the German statistics platform Statista on the demographics of the voters in this year’s Brandenburg’s state election showed that 64% of the AfD party’s voters are between 16 and 34 years old, with 31% between the ages of 16 and 24.

German broadcaster Deutsche Welle reported that the AfD targets young voters through the savvy use of social media, particularly on the Instagram and TikTok platforms.

The AfD’s Maximilian Krah, a member of the European Parliament, regularly appears on TikTok. In one video, he is seen saying: "One in three young men in Germany has never had a girlfriend. Are you one of them?

"Don't watch porn; don't vote Green; go outside into the fresh air,” he continues. “Be confident. And above all, don't believe you need to be nice and soft. Real men stand on the far right. Real men are patriots. That's the way to find a girlfriend!"

German federal government drifts right

Fierce criticism of Krah and the AfD as a whole, however, has failed to douse the growing popularity of the party, and it now poses a significant challenge to the center-left governing coalition of Chancellor Olaf Scholz.

Earlier this month the AfD became the first far-right party to win an election in Germany since the 1930s when it won local elections in the state of Thuringia, so last weekend’s narrow election squeak has piled more pressure on a chancellor already under pressure from woeful opinion polls and infighting in his coalition.

In what has been seen as an apparent attempt to steal some of the AfD’s thunder and shore up its own position on September 9, the federal government announced plans to impose tighter controls at all the country’s land borders to tackle “irregular migration” and protect the public from threats such as Islamist extremism. On September 11, the international human rights organization, Amnesty International, joined 26 other non-governmental organizations and associations in an appeal to the German federal government to reverse its plans. They reminded it of its obligations under EU and international law to respect a refugee’s right to seek asylum. “Seeking asylum is a human right. Calls to turn back people seeking protection at German borders are clearly contrary to European law,” the organization wrote on its website. The secretary general of Amnesty International, Julia Duchrow, said: “The current debate about an alleged emergency situation and rejections of those seeking protection at German borders endanger European cohesion.”

29 notes · View notes

earthmoonz · 1 year ago

Text

WIFEY. | EPISODE FIVE (5.7)

start / previous / next

(transcript below)

MAX): Rose, this is my…friend Lena. Lena, this is Rose.

(LENA): Nice to meet you.

(ROSE): You too I’m sure.

(HANNAH): I’m Hannah, Lena and I go way back. How do you both know each other?

(MAX/LENA): We met at a party/Through work.

(MAX): [Clearing their throat] We met at a work party. I manage the Old Salt Bar in the spice district? I’m friends with AJ so I met Lena with them.

(HANNAH): Mmm. That’s that student bar right? Not really my vibe but it’s cute though! With all the little flags and that.

(MAX): Mmhm. Can’t see it being your vibe either.

(LENA): Have you two ordered yet? We’ve never been here so-

(ROSE): We have! Max got the mushroom pizza but I got the salmon risotto. We’ve never been to this restaurant specifically before but they have a sister branch in Windenburg that I go to all the time. I live over there but I’m staying with my aunt and uncle for the summer.

(HANNAH): Oh that’s where that accent’s from! I was tryna place it in my head.

(ROSE): Yeah! I’ve lived there since I was 10 but I went to one of those English speaking schools? So my accent can be hard to place for some people.

(HANNAH): You know I’ve always wanted to go to Windenburg, I’ve heard really good things about the clubs there.

(ROSE): I’m actually not a massive nightclub person but the ones I’ve been to are really fun.

(LENA): Should we order now?

(HANNAH): Shit, yeah. I’m getting carried away!

62 notes · View notes

evangelifloss · 2 years ago

Note

Please tell me about the great emu war of 1932 :3

"Haha Australia lost a war to emus twice"

NO BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!

Here's why:

First, I don't believe foreigners know how BIG emus are, and how much of their stocky main body is just layers and layers of feathers

This is Peck. He doesn't actually Peck but he LOVES the LADIES and for reference, that's me as he's uh... trying to woo me. I'm 4'11 / 149cm tall and in that photo he's not standing at full height either because he's preparing to get lower and ahem, grind. He is also a juvenile.

Emus are typically 5.7 feet/1.75 meters tall, but they have been recorded to get up to 6.2 feet/1.9 meters.

So imagine you've got this big ass dinosaur bird with the most t-rex looking feet perfectly designed for running. Yeeting. Skeeting. Killing you maybe. And now take into account these flightless fucks can run up to 62 Kilometers per hour. THATS 39 MILES PER HOUR TOP SPEED.

Now add 20,000 emus.

So 20,000 emus against poverty-stricken farmers with failing crops, farmers WHO WERE MOSTLY WW1 VETERANS BY THE WAY. Yeah nah.

Here's a visual to help y'all understand how insanely large emu groups get.

Onto why the hell were there so many emus on the farmlands (even tho... yknow... the emus and the local indigenous were there first but we won't get into that.)

Basically a big drought made the horde of emus move away from their usual dwindling territory, onto the sprawling Australian "farm lands" and remember I mentioned their feet before? BIG STOMPY. Whatever crops that had somehow managed to survive the severely vitamin-deficient soil and grow, did not in fact, survive the dinosaur feet as the emus strolled through, pecking and foraging the ground along the way.

The plight of the veteran farmers didn't fall on deaf ears, but the Australian government severely underestimated the power of 20,000 emus by a LONG shot. Plus they weren't all that interested either, until at least it was reported that the emus were destroying the Rabbit Proof Fence. What legends.

For the first "war" the government sent 3 men.

Yep. You heard me. Three guys. Major Meredith, Sargeant McMurray and a soldier by the name of O'Halloran.

They had one truck with a machine gun, and probably other guns, but between them roughly 10,000 rounds of ammunition.

So off they went. To wage war against the progressive emus breaking the symbol of "White Australia" AKA the Fence. Oh and also I guess the starving vets.

This is it. This is what they had.

Locals from all around joined in the fight and tried to herd the roaming groups of emus into the murder range but the emus had a tactic. One that us Aussies use at bush doofs when you hear police sirens- and that is to SCATTER.

They only killed "a dozen birds" from a group estimated to be around 1000. It didn't help that the machine gun jammed during this organised ambush.

And by then, the Emus clicked onto what was happening. They split up into smaller groups, observed to be led by the largest sized male who kept an eye out for the enemy. Never again did they risk coming together as seen before.

The war was lost. Only a few more attempts were made that had little success and Ornithologist Dom Serventy concisely summarised the whole operation.

I want to remind you all that this is a recorded statement, kept on file in legal military documentation

"The Emu command had evidently ordered guerrilla tactics, and its unwieldy army soon split up into innumerable small units that made use of the military equipment uneconomic. A crestfallen field force therefore withdrew from the combat area after about a month."

Let's move onto Emu War Part Two: Unsuccessful Boogaloo

Heads up by the way, TW below.

Emus were still, y'know, Emu-ing about and the drought didn't let up either. People were still dying of starvation, becoming homeless and committing suicide. It took the Premier of Western Australia, and a Base Commander in the military penning letters and using media pressure to finally convince the government to give it another go.

Major Meridith returns to the War and having learnt from practically everyone's past assumptions of the highly intelligent sonic-speed bird, brought success. And by that I mean, more success than the previous war.

Ultimately only 5% of the 20k Emu Army were ever killed, and even that is debated since it is more than likely they inflated numbers of kills to lessen the damage of being completely inferior to the superb qualities of the Emu.

A Federal parliamentarian (like a senator) when asked about whether there should be a medal made for the conflict, he replied with:

"Any medals should go to the emus who had won every round so far."

And of course in true Aussie fashion, the Defence Minister who supported and approved for the Emu War 1 and 2, was given the title by the Australian public, and international conservationists of ‘Minister for the Emu War’.

Ouch, but also, Not Every Problem Has To Be Solved With Guns.

Ironically what worked far better was the implementation of fences to keep the Emus OUT and unfortunately, a bounty system that saw many locals and professional hunters alike have FAR more success than an entire military operation. 57,000 bounties were claimed in a six month period after it being introduced in 1934.

Thus concludes the Great Emu War of 1932.

If you're asking why I know this, I studied it when I was 16, and made an entire poster to which I gave it to my Japanese Teacher. For context: I was living in Japan. Going to a Japanese School. And teaching my poor English teacher about this Emu War that he only believed once he looked it up. As a parting gift I gave him a poster. Shout out to Kawamura-Sensei you tried so hard not to laugh at the poster but I won that war.

Here it is. All the quotes on there are real too!

138 notes · View notes

hellfirenacht · 2 years ago

Text

Wing Man Part 5

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

Chapter Summary: Ranting about Ozzy Osbourne counts as flirting, right?

5.7 words

Series Master List

a/n: I wanted to get this chapter out before Flight of Icarus on Halloween. I am MILKING that preview we got for all it's worth. I want y'all to know in this chapter I am projecting HARD on what I think the book will be like and how it will affect Eddie. Also say thank you to @hellfiredarling and @crocwork-clockodile because without them, this wouldn't have gone past 2 chapters. Also shout out to @hellfiredarling for letting me borrow her OC Tara for this fic as well. 💜

WARNINGS: This chapter discusses the Ozzy Osbourne Bat Incident. Nothing is really talked about in graphic detail, but I figured I'd throw that out there, just in case.

Eddie Munson would never consider himself a homewrecker. He was a lot of things; a freak, a metal head, the occasional dealer, a musician, but never a homewrecker.

But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy flirting with you as Steve was right there. Steve hadn’t even made any sort of move to make it clear that you were actually on a date anyway. Eddie had expected some sort of reaction from Steve from the banter that bounced between the two of you, but he’d only sat back and watched.

You were far too good for Harrington anyway.

But he could have figured that out the second time the two of you had met so many years ago. You didn’t remember Eddie, and he didn’t blame you too much for that. You had been in a rough state that time, shaken up and worried out of your mind. Hell, Eddie himself could barely remember the first meeting it had been so long ago.

He couldn’t help himself though, not when you showed an interest in his band, his club, and (he was starting to hope) him. The back and forth between the two of you had excited him. He swore (lied) to himself that he was only flirting and chatting with you to annoy Harrington, and the last thing he had expected was for you to start flirting back. It was night and day compared to Sidequest Day. Eddie completely forgot about Steve the second you mentioned WASP as a favorite band. He probably could have stood there all night, asking you how you fell into the genre, what songs you add to your mix tapes, and bragging not-so-subtly about his band and guitar skills.

But reality always shows up, and Eddie was needed to fix the amp again. It was old and beat to hell and back, but it was all he could afford to fix. A new amp would always be out of the question unless the Hideout decided to start paying the high schoolers for their performance every week.

He made his way to the van to grab his toolbox (Wayne’s toolbox, but he insisted that Eddie keep it in his van) when he realized that he was an idiot. Shit, he’d offered you a ride home, and he was really hoping you’d take him up on that offer, intoxicated or not.

The back of the van was gutted, making it far easier to transport Gareth’s drum set, the amp, and all of their other equipment to their weekly gig. There was even room for two of his friends to (very illegally) sit back there while one person sat up front with him.

Would you even want a ride home like that? Eddie had no problem forcing everyone else to ride in the back while you rode shotgun. Then it was the long ride to Gareth’s place to drop everything off, then dropping off Jeff and Zack.

He could drop you off first, but that would defeat the purpose of offering you a ride.

Shit.

Whatever, he’d wing it. He’d figure out the details later after the show. Right now he had to fix the amp again and focus on the music.

There was a moment before every show, when the janky spotlights would turn on and temporarily blind Eddie, that transported him to another world. Any time he picked up his guitar, be it his electric one or the acoustic, he could feel a charge in the air. Music was as natural as breathing to him, something that just was.

Someone once asked Eddie, why music? Why this music?

Because it’s fucking badass. Because it’s an escape to a different world, a different dimension.

When Eddie played, he didn’t have to be in Hawkins. He didn’t have to be a freak. When he felt the sharp strings press into his fingers he became a Rock God. His music made him feel badass, indestructible, a fucking hero in his mind.

During a really good show, Eddie could lose himself completely. He could imagine that there was a large crowd cheating his name, his band. The sound of his guitar screeched like a demonic bat, and he could imagine that the audience was looking through a portal to another dimension, watching as Corroded Coffin used their music to kick ass and take names.

Eddie never thought about what it would be like to look through the other side of the portal. To look back and see someone looking at him the way he imagined it. That was, until the first song started and his eyes met yours through the near empty bar.

There was a smile on your face, and an intense look in your eyes as you watched him play. The excitement in your eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. It was the same look that Dustin had given Eddie the first time he made the kid a mix tape, it was the look that his bandmates had when they booked their first gig ever that wasn’t some talent show or open mic night.

It was the look Eddie had when he held a guitar for the first time.

Sure, Eddie had fans. At least 5 people would drunkenly cheer for him on Tuesdays. They were mostly older though, blue collar workers who were reliving their youth through Corroded Coffin. Occasionally he could even have a semi-coherent conversation with them about music after the set. Not often though. The sets usually ended with high fives from the band, maybe a pat on the back and a beer slipped over to Eddie.

The way you were smiling up at him was different though. Even with the drink in your hand you were alert and paying attention to every song and every lyric. Eddie’s voice wasn’t the most well-trained but he let his guitar do most of the work. As they worked through their set, his eyes kept falling back to you. Of course it was easy, considering the fact that you were a cute girl sitting front and center, and most of his other ‘fans’ were by the actual bar on their fourth or fifth round for the night.

Paige had once mentioned off-handedly that he had the look and the stage presence. She’d even said that he looked good once and that was a compliment that he had ridden the high of until everything came crashing down again. When that dream disappeared along with her, Eddie had gone back to just being the Freak of Hawkins. But, fuck, when you were looking at him like that he could almost believe it again.

When the echoes of the final chord faded into the air and the portal closed, Eddie was left smiling at the one person in the bar that bothered cheering like they meant it. You.

He took his pick and tossed it to you, and you caught it between your hands like you had with the air hockey puck just a few days ago. Eddie felt a sense of pride as your cheeks darkened, and he hoped it was because of him and not the drink you had been nursing for the past hour. Your eyes darted between him and Steve- oh right. Harrington was here too. Right.

Eddie turned away and started helping with packing up. The sooner they got the equipment to the van the more time they would have to hang out before curfews for everyone else hit.

During the summer they had gotten away with staying out a bit later, but it was now the school year. That meant they had about twenty minutes to mingle, pack, and head out. The last thing he needed was to piss off Gareth's parents (again) and lose their place to practice.

Eddie was already on thin ice with the parents of his bandmates and club members, except for Zack’s. He wasn’t gonna push it.

With everything tucked securely back in his van, Eddie made his way back inside to find you.One of his regulars gave him a clap on the back for a good show and handed him a beer which he gladly accepted. He should back off, stay away when every time he’s seen you in recent memory was with Steve Harrington. But when he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table still fiddling with the pick between your fingers and finishing off your drink he couldn’t stay away. Steve was nowhere to be found.

“So, did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked, taking a seat next to you. You had been lost in thought and jumped slightly. When you realized he was there, you smiled at Eddie as if he was the one person you wanted to see in all of Hawkins.

“Holy shit, you guys are good!” You said brightly. There was the tiniest slur to your words, made noticeable by how fast you were talking. “Your amp makes a weird sound with your guitar but I don’t think that’s a bad thing and you were going so fast! How’d you get your fingers to do that?!”

Eddie laughed and had you been in a more sober state of mind he might have made some sort of dirty joke about that. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and I practice so much it’s second nature to me.”

You glanced at his calloused fingers and nodded, before looking back at your own. “I don’t have the finger dexterity for that.” you said, moving your fingers around. “See? My pinkie is kind of fucked up.” You gave your fingers a wiggle and your pinkie definitely moved in a more jerky fashion than the rest of your finders.

“It’s because you don’t use it enough.” Eddie said, grabbing your pinkie and shaking your hand around, making you laugh. “Just start playing guitar for about four hours a day until your fingers bleed and I’m sure you could fix it.”

“That sounds like a lot of work that I don’t have the passion for, so I think I’ll leave all the fingering to you-” You closed your eyes and took a very deep breath as your brain caught up to your mouth. Eddie watched in amusement as you slumped your head to the table. “Can I get a do over?”

Despite the embarrassment you were laughing, which Eddie took as a good sign. His next move was risky, but he was going to go for it.

“If you had a g string I could show you how to finger it.”

“Nooooo!” you groaned through your laughter as you sat back up. “Low hanging fruit, Eddie! That was too easy!”

“You handed that one to me on a silver platter! I don’t think I’d be allowed to play guitar anymore if I didn’t go for that joke!” Eddie said in mock offense.

“Eddie, did you know that when you order one drink here, they actually give you three drinks in one glass?” you asked, motioning to your empty cup. “Because I did not.”

He looked over at the bar, and then back to you. “Sam’s working. Yeah, he’s pretty heavy handed with his drinks. Are you good?”

You gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I can’t drive probably but I’m not blackout wasted or anything.” There was still a slur to your words, but your eyes were still alert enough that he felt confident that you weren’t going to make any decisions that weren’t completely your own.

“So how come I’m the one who offered you a ride home and not your date?” Eddie didn’t want to bring up Harrington, but curiosity always got the better of him in one way or another.

“Date?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization dawned on your face. You looked at Eddie with such intensity that it made him feel nervous for a second. “I am not dating Steve Harrington.” There was firmness in your voice. “He’s dating every other girl in Hawkins.”

“Do you... want him to be dating you?” Eddie wasn’t sure where you were going with this and he took a sip of the beer that he’d been neglecting for the past few minutes. .

“Ew.”

That one word had him nearly choking on his beer as it went down the wrong pipe. He made a strained sound between a cough and a laugh and you smacked him on the back a few times with concern before he waved your hand off.

“‘Ew’?” He managed to finally choke out, looking at you in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that you and Steve Harrington just happen to hang out but you aren’t dating?”

This had to be a joke, some sort of prank where Harrington would pop out of the bathroom, throw his arm around you, and laugh at Eddie for believing for even a second that someone as cool as you was single.

“We’re just friends and we have a kind of deal going on.” you said, messing with the ice in your empty glass. “I help him and he uh...” Eddie watched as you hesitated and your mind looked for the words. “He helps me get out of the house.”

“I thought you said coming out was your idea?” Eddie tilted his head, watching as your expression changed to one of a kid who’s hand was caught in the cookie jar.

“I lied.” You said bluntly. “I had no idea about you playing or that you had a band or even that the Hideout had any live music ever. It was Steve’s idea.”

Eddie watched your expression carefully for any sign that you didn’t actually have feelings for Steve. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew better than to get his hopes up. The Munson’s weren’t exactly known for being lucky in love, and he was no different. Eddie could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had any sort of romantic connection to a girl and most of those had crumbled to dust in his hands.

“Harrington brought you here?” He said slowly. “To get you out of the house?”

“I pretty much live at work and home.” you shrugged, sucking the last bit of moisture that had melted in the bottom of your glass. “He’s a good friend. And that’s all he is.”

Even Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the blatant flag that you were waving over your head.

SMACK

Two drumsticks came crashing down on the table between the two of you. Eddie didn’t even realize how close you two were getting until Gareth managed to squeeze himself between the two of you, banging his sticks rhythmically on the table.

“Eddie we gotta go.” Gareth said. “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late tonight. Grandma’s visiting.”

“Shit.” Eddie muttered to himself and then looked at you. “Do you still need a ride?”

He hoped you’d say yes. He hoped you didn’t mind his band while they all drove home so illegally.

“I think I can’t say no.” You glanced at the drink. “Because that was waaay stronger than I expected it to be and I can alway bully Steve into helping me get my car in the morning.”

“Why was Harrington even here?” Gareth asked, looking at you with confusion. He glanced at Eddie in a questioning manner and a sharp look from Eddie shut him right up.

“He’s my friend. He left. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” You replied nonchalantly.

Harrington just left you drunk at a bar?! Eddie looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. What kind of bullshit friend was that? Henderson had spent so long talking up Steve Harrington, and how he was a total badass and not a dick and he left a friend drunk at a bar? He had been willing to play nice for Dustin, but any chance of that was thrown out the window.

Eddie stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he tried (badly) to hide his frustration. “We’re giving her a ride home. She gets shotgun.”

“What?!” Gareth protested, looking at you like you’d personally offended him. “If my parents see me get out of the back-”

“They won’t unless you plan on telling them to wait up for you.” Eddie said firmly. “She’s shotgun.”

There was a look of guilt on your face as you sat there awkwardly. “Mom, Dad, I can sit in the back or I can just stick around her for another hour with some water and I’ll sober up.”

Eddie grabbed you by the scruff of your jacket and hauled you up quickly. “Nope, you’ve already had one person ditch you tonight. I’m not leaving you drunk in a bar alone.”

He winced internally at how roughly he’d just handled you. Eddie was so used to handling and rough housing with his club that he forgot that he shouldn’t be doing that with other people. But it was so easy with you. The few conversations you’ve had made him feel like you should have been part of Hellfire to begin with. If he ever saw Chris Morrison again, he’d deck him in his smug little nose.

There was no time for protesting from either you or Eddie as he pushed the two of you out the door and towards his van. It was chilly out, the autumn air biting his skin as he pushed Gareth towards the back of the van. He released your jacket and stepped to open the door of the van for you.

“After you-” He did his best to give what he hoped was a charming smile as you hopped into the van. He heard Zack mutter something in the back of his van followed by a round of snickering between his bandmates before he closed the door and hopped into the driver side seat.

Metal came blasting out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down so that it didn’t blow your eardrums.

“Wait no, turn that back up!” you said, reaching for the knob to elevate the voice of Ozzy Ozbourn as it thrummed through the van.

“So uh, this is my new friend.” Eddie said, hating how that sounded as he tried to break the ice.

You turned around in your seat immediately and stuck your hand in the back, introducing your name. Eddie was amazed as you wasted no time launching into how great the set was and asking a million questions as to who they were, how they started playing music.

You weren’t shy, that was for sure. Actually the buzz you had going on made you even more interested in talking to everyone. Soon there was a lively conversation happening, enthusiastically about the tape that was playing.

“My mom hates Ozzie.” Jeff said. “Says that he’s an animal abuser because he bit the head off that bat.”

“Everyone wants to talk about that, but no one wants to talk about how that happened!” You threw in.

“What do you mean?” shot back Gareth. “With his fucking teeth!”

“That’s not what I meant, Dingus!” you snorted. “Where do you think the bat came from?”

Eddie gave pause and slowed his driving down just a touch. He was already going slow to avoid any cops out, but you had asked a question that he’d never even considered.

The question gave pause to everyone as they looked at each other with confused shrugs.

“I thought he just pulled it out of his pants.” Said Zack

“His pants?!”

“Why would he keep a bat in his pants?!”

“To pull it out and bite the head off of it, duh!”

“Where else would he keep a bat?”

“I don’t know, a cage?!”

The conversation was delving into chaos and Eddie could see you grinning out of the corner of his eye as you watched them squabble amongst themselves.

“Maybe it just flew in?” Eddie threw that out there, wishing that he didn’t have to be driving so that he could focus on the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“It was a closed auditorium, actually.” You smiled at him. “I highly doubt that a bat is just gonna fly into a random building filled with screaming people.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just a random building. It’s a building where Black Sabbath was playing.” Eddie laughed, glancing between you and the road. “Maybe it was a metal fan.”

“Not anymore.”

“Jesus, Zack”

“Alright, I’ll bite-”

“The head off a bat?”

“No! Okay, so you clearly know what happened so just spit it out!”

“Like Ozzy did with the bat head?”

“ENOUGH!” Eddie yelled out, hitting the breaks just enough to make the van jerk and you all to have his attention. You laughed as he resumed normal driving, thankful that it was almost 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the roads were dead and empty. “Let her talk.”

The van went quiet after a few apologies and you reached over to turn down the radio.

“Alright, so,” you started. “I’m just gonna start from the beginning and if you all hear me rant about this once, you’ll probably hear me rant about it a hundred times in the future because this is my go-to drunk rant.”

You glance at Eddie, and he could see the excitement in your eyes that you got to talk about this with fresh people who would actually appreciate it.

“So we’ve established that this was a closed auditorium that he was playing in, and this wasn’t planned at all.” you continued. “So the question everyone needs to ask is where the fuck this bat came from. Everyone always talks about it like he reached up and grabbed a random bat out of the air and ate it whole but that’s not what happened. What happened is that a fan threw the bat on stage- mind you, he has no reason to believe that it’s a real bat. He thinks it’s a rubber bat! Who in their right mind would think that someone would throw a real bat on stage?”

“Isn’t Ozzy on every drug ever?” Jeff asked from the back.

You turned around in your seat to look at him, your finger extended. “You... are absolutely correct and make a very valid point. That aside though, let’s think about this. What kind of person managed to get a live bat, sneak it into a concert, and get close enough to the stage to throw it at Ozzy?”

They were pulling up into Gareth’s neighborhood now, and Eddie drove under the speed limit, stopping fully at every stop sign just to prolong this time together. He was fully invested in the excitement and passion in your voice as you told this story.

“Who was it?” Eddie asked.

“Get this- a seventeen year old high school girl.” You said. “A fucking junior in high school, managed to get a live bat, sneak it in, and throw it at Ozzy! That’s insane, right?!”

“What?!”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I have absolutely no clue!” you laughed. “The two interviews I read about it didn’t talk about who she was or anything. They just talked about how Ozzy saw the bat and didn’t realize it was alive until he took a bite! It’s actually kind of fucked up, and Ozzy did not deserve that but holy shit right?”

Eddie pulled into Gareth’s parent’s driveway, and everyone in the back went into band mode as Gareth immediately hopped out of the back and hoped that his parents weren’t watching. You moved back in your set and glanced at Eddie who had to pretend he wasn’t staring a hole into the side of your head.

“Need any help?” you offered.

He shook his head, “Just hang tight while we unpack. It’ll only take a second.”

The boys made quick work of unpacking the drum set and rearranging the back so that the remaining two club members could more comfortably fit for the final leg home. Thankfully Jeff and Zack didn’t live too far from each other. You stayed in the van, zoning out pleasantly to the end of the tape.

In the garage, Eddie was getting roasted.

“So now you’re taking home girls after shows, Eddie?” Jeff asked with a shit-eating grin.

“Next time warn us so we can get a different ride.” grumbled Gareth.

“She seems nice.” Zack added.

“Look, it was a last minute thing and she was left alone and drunk in a bar.” Eddie tried to explain as they put up the drum kit.

“So the only girl you can get is a drunk girl?” ribbed Jeff.

“A drunk girl who was ditched by a jock- ow!” Gareth rubbed his arm where Eddie had socked him.

“I told you, it was a last minute thing.” Eddie said more firmly, narrowing his eyes at Gareth. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.”

“Wasn’t she also at the arcade last Saturday?” Jeff asked. “Weird how she keeps showing up.”

“If it means we get someone else watching our band, who cares? She liked the set and we need the support.” Zack added. “Night Gareth”

“Night.” Gareth said before closing the garage door.

They all made their way back into the van, just in time for the cassette to be spat back out for you to flip it over and push play again. The drive to drop off the remaining two members was quieter, as the school day plus the set caught up to them. Eddie was still wired, and he was looking forward to having a joint when he got home to calm himself after everything that had happened tonight.

When the van was just the two of you, and you gave him directions to your small apartment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye at a red light, taking in the way your eyes were closed and your lips were upturned as you soundlessly mouthed the words to the song playing.

“So, where’d you get your tattoos?” you asked after a few minutes.

Eddie grinned. “Why? Are you looking to get some ink done?”

“Well, the last time I checked tattooing was illegal in Indiana.” you replied, glancing at the colony of bats flying up his arm. “So have you ever left the state or should I be concerned about whatever shady basement you visit to get those?”

He scrunched his face and blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about the legalities, are you gonna tell Hopper on me?”

“Scratcher tattoos?” you frowned. “You are so lucky that those didn’t get infected.”

“She did it as a favor for me, she wasn’t some sketchy dude I met in a bar.” Eddie said defensively. “Her name’s Tara, she moved her from California where tattooing is legal, and she’s still technically licensed.”

“Just not for Indiana.”

“Not even a little.” he laughed. “But I helped her and she repaid me with these sweet ol’ tatties.”

You snorted into your hand at his verbiage. “How many you got?”

“Three on my arm and two on my chest. I got my first about three months after I turned eighteen when Tara moved in.” He explained.

“Damn, and here I am looking at leaving the state to get something done legally like some sort of square.” You laughed.

“So you are looking for some!” Eddie pulled into the parking lot you pointed to, right outside your building.

“What can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I did jaywalk last week.” You smiled up at him, not bothering to move yet from the passenger side seat.

“Jaywalking? Shit, and here I thought you were a quiet goody two shoes.” He shook his head. “I think you’re gonna be a terrible influence on me.”

“The worst.” you agreed.

There was a silence that seemed to crackle with the old stereo. Eddie’s eyes met yours and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in almost two years.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Flashes of his first senior year raced through his mind as he felt something begin again. He would have hoped that when he felt that jolt in his stomach again he’d be alright. Eddie looked at you, his mind racing a million miles per hour over what to do now.

He had to get out of there.

You were reaching out for him, shit- he wasn’t ready. Your hand was reaching across for his and gripped it, pulling it towards you. You were making a move and-

Pop

The sound of a maker’s cap reached his ears. Eddie felt the tip of the felt glide over the skin of his forearm, the temporary ink sinking into his skin and spelling out your name and phone number.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that about?

“We should hang out again, on purpose.” you said, putting the marker back in your bag.

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. Fuck, he needed a joint now. “Fifth time’s a charm.” he said.

Without another word you gave him a wave and hopped out of the car, towards your unit. He watched to make sure you made it inside before smacking his head against the steering wheel as the night replayed in his mind.

Sweet ol’ tatties?

Freaking out when he thought you might kiss him?

He knew that everything that happened two years ago would have an effect on him. Anyone who was close to Eddie knew the toll it took on him. He’d always been cynical, but ‘84 changed something deeper.

Eddie didn’t want that to affect you.

But he looked at the dried dark green ink on his arm with a sigh. “Dammit.” he muttered to himself before pulling out.

He shouldn’t drag you into his problems. He should turn around and leave it at that- just four meetings between the two of you. Four odd, awkward, and admittedly nice meetings.

The fifth meeting was inevitable.

---

“So, I think you need to leave, Steve.” you said as you watched Corroded Coffin pack up their instruments.

“Wait, what?” he looked at you with wide eyes, glancing down at the guitar pick that you were fiddling with between your thumb and forefinger. The smooth plastic and the slightly sharper edge had a nice contrasting feeling as you played with it.

“Steve, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But I think if you stick around I’m gonna lose this chance.”

“You’re really gonna go for it? For him?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You watched the man on stage and gulped down the last of your drink. It was a bit stronger than expected and you had a nice buzz happening, but nothing alarming. You could easily hang out for another hour with some water and some pretzels and be perfectly fine to drive home if needed. But playing it up just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? It had definitely loosened you up and relaxed you enough that you were starting to feel excited about talking to Eddie again.

“How sober are you?” Steve glanced at the drink and back at you. “I need to know that you’re of sound mind and body before I leave you alone with some guy we barely know.”

“Awww, look at you caring about me.” you teased and pinched his cheek as he swatted your hand away. “If Dustin vouches for him, I’ll trust the kid’s judgment. And I’m fine, the worst I’ll do is run my mouth worse than normal and rant about things you won’t understand.”

“How’s that different from normal?”

“Ha ha. Okay, seriously. I love you, but you’re cockblocking me.”

“Okay, okay I’m going, sheesh.” he stood up. “This is the thanks I get for introducing you to a guy.”

“Did you, or did you not get laid at least four times since we started this?”

“Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Thanks Mom.”

---

You liked Eddie’s friends, you decided. They were just as weird and loud and rowdy as you expected a bunch of high school boys to be. Gareth kept challenging you every few sentences, but the conversation didn’t feel as awkward as you were worried it’d be after being manhandled to Eddie’s van. Maybe even if this didn’t work out, you could at least be friends with them.

And when the band was dropped off, it was just you and Eddie in his van. Talking to him was easy, almost as easy as it was to talk to Steve. You never had anything to prove to the jock, and you wished that you could feel the same about Eddie. You wanted him to like you, you wanted him to like you so much.

Eddie parked and there was a charge in the air that made your stomach flutter. For the past two months you’d actually avoided moving ahead with Steve’s end of the bargain. As much as you wanted companionship, putting yourself out there was scary. But when you were next to Eddie, making small talk, awkwardly flirting, and screaming about music it wasn’t as scary.

You wanted to move forward.

You wanted to know him, and get out of this damn rut of home and work and little else. You were tired of hearing about everyone else living while you just coasted.

So you decided to go for it. You wished you had grabbed a napkin from the bar, but all you had in your bag was an old green sharpie that you were praying still worked. You reached for his arm and you jotted down your name and phone number, putting the ball firmly in his court. You’d made your move, and now it was his turn.

“We should hang out. On purpose.” you said, releasing him.

“Fifth time’s a charm.” Eddie said.

You gave a wave and made your way back to your small one bedroom apartment. As you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, that’s when you realized something.

Today. Saturday. That was-

You looked down at your hand and put down two fingers.

“What did he mean, five?!”

Part 6

Dividers by @strangergraphics

A/n: Drop a comment of what you'd want to see Reader get as a tattoo and I might add it later. See you all on the other side of Flight of Icarus.

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1083 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistook @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119

Please reblog 💜

#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader

384 notes · View notes

somethingusefulfromflorida · 8 months ago

Text

The first presidential election in which every state picked their electors via statewide popular vote was 1868. Before that, at least one state had the legislature pick the winner (South Carolina was the last holdout). Back then, only white men over 21 could vote, but the electorate saw significant boosts in 1920 with the passage of the 19th amendment (white women) and 1972 following the civil rights movement (black men and women) and the passage of the 26th amendment (18 year olds).

The total number of eligible voters grows with the overall population of the country, and looking at the data since 1972 we can predict that there will be about 244 million eligible voters this year.

But eligibility is only half the equation. Actual voter turnout never even comes close to 100%. Since 1972, it has never gone above 66.6% (in 2020), averaging 57.2%

57.2% of 244 million voters would mean we'd see 140 million votes cast in November, but that's actually way lower than we would expect. Let's ignore turnout percentage (which fluctuates wildly between 50% and 60%) and look instead at the actual number of votes cast:

There were over 158 million votes cast in 2020, and given that we saw record turnout of 66.6% due to a number of simultaneous crises, it makes perfect sense that the total number of votes cast in 2024 would fall, but not all the way down to 140 million. Between 1984 and 1988, the popular vote dropped by 1 million. Between 1992 and 1996, the popular vote dropped by 8 million. Between 2008 and 2012, the popular vote dropped by 2 million. No polls seem to indicate an 18 million dropoff in voter turnout this year; that would be unprecedented. According to the line of best fit, it is much more likely that we'll see ballpark 150 million votes cast, probably closer to 151 million. That would indicate a voter turnout of around 62%, which is higher than average but more realistic.

Since 1972, the two major parties combine to win an average of 95.5% of the popular vote per election. Third party candidates do well in waves, with considerable showings (over 5%) in 1980, 1992, 1996, and 2016. Since Kennedy dropped out of the race and neither the Libertarians nor the Greens are making waves as spoilers this year, we can assume that the Democrats and Republicans will have a better than average showing. Looking at the trend lines for major and third party percentages, it would show Kamala Harris receiving 51.7% of the vote (about 78 million), Donald Trump receiving 45.0% (about 68 million), and third party candidates combining for 3.3% (about 5 million).

To scale:

I do not believe that the actual final results will be anywhere close to this prediction. I think that these extrapolations show Kamala Harris overperforming by a considerable amount. She will almost certainly win the popular vote, I don't doubt that, but I think she will win a plurality instead of a majority (under 50%). Donald Trump is not wildly more or less popular than he was the last two times, in which he received 46.1% and 46.8% of the vote, so I do not think it is unreasonable to assume he will receive a minimum of 47% this year, given demographic shifts among suburban voters, black men and Hispanics. He may even perform better than that, but not better than Harris. I would bet my life on that fact. Democrats have won the popular vote in 7 of the last 8 elections, and polls do not show Trump magically coming up from behind on his third try.

When we exclude years with exceptionally high third party turnout, the major parties average 98.3% instead of 95.5% since 1972, but we can't just pick and choose what data to include. At this point, I'm deviating from the hard numbers and am operating more on vibes. Third party turnout will be lower than in 2016 (5.7%), but probably higher than in 2020 (1.8%). If we take the 3.3% figure from the trend lines, that would mean Harris and Trump would receive a combined 96.7% (146 million votes). If we assume Trump has a floor of 47% support (about 71 million votes), then the best Harris could do is 49.7% (about 75 million votes). There is no conceivable scenario where Trump wins the popular vote, so his ceiling (and Harris's floor) is something like 48.35% (73 million votes each).

The only president to win two non-consecutive terms was Grover Cleveland, but he actually won the popular vote all three times he ran, 1884 (48.8%), 1888 (48.6%, lost the electoral college), and 1892 (46.0%). Trump is the exact opposite, having NEVER won the popular vote but still won the electoral college regardless. Franklin Roosevelt won four times in a row, 1932 (57.4%), 1936 (60.8%), 1940 (54.7%), and 1944 (53.4%). There was a major dropoff between his second and third bid, even though he was ridiculously popular. Trump is NOT ridiculously popular, but I don't think he's going to perform worse this time. Cleveland performed worse because there was a significant third party challenger, and FDR was the first sitting incumbent to run for a third term (at a time when WW2 was ramping up and voters were afraid of America joining). Trump does not have either of these disadvantages, so while it's possible he could perform worse than in 2020, I think Harris has so much baggage attached to her name (real and imaginary) that Trump will do better than he did against Clinton or Biden. A lot of voters are fed up with him, but that doesn't mean they will support Harris.

I have no real data to confirm these confidence intervals, but this what I would expect next month

47.0% to 48.3% for Trump (71 million to 73 million), I'd say 48.0% (72.5 million)

48.4% to 49.7% for Harris (73 million to 75 million), I'd say 48.7% (73.5 million)

Now, the electoral college is anybody's guess! Who fuckin knows?

9 notes · View notes

cliperry · 3 months ago

Text

They Are No Longer Just a Band—They Are a Social Phenomenon

Three years ago, they didn't even know each other’s faces. After appearing on the UK's popular TV show The X Factor, they have now grown into a superstar group with No.1 albums in 35 countries. Their popularity is nothing short of a global phenomenon.

This movie gives us a behind-the-scenes look at One Direction’s success story!

ONE DIRECTION: THIS IS US

From Global Superstars to the Big Screen

Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, and Louis Tomlinson—better known as One Direction—make their movie debut in One Direction: This Is Us. This 3D concert film is both a tour documentary and an exclusive look into the lives of the world’s most popular boy band.

Produced by Simon Cowell and directed by Morgan Spurlock, the film follows One Direction’s 2013 world tour, from Mexico and Japan to London’s O2 Arena. It captures high-energy performances, candid interviews, and behind-the-scenes moments, showcasing their talent, hard work, and playful personalities from a fresh perspective.

From obscurity to unprecedented stardom, this is the incredible journey of One Direction, a group that took the world by storm with the unwavering support of their fans.

A Box Office Success

One Direction: This Is Us was released in August in the UK and the US, debuting on 650 screens in the UK, earning $5.7 million, and on 2,735 screens in the US, where it grossed $17 million, making it the No.1 film of the weekend in both countries.

Since then, it has been released in 56 countries worldwide, becoming a massive box office hit.

A Glimpse into Their True Selves

Following the release of their second album Take Me Home, One Direction embarked on their first major world tour.

Traveling across the globe,

Performing in front of thousands of passionate fans every night,

Balancing their desire to live normal lives with the reality of being global superstars.

This movie captures their raw emotions and reflections on their extraordinary journey.

The Take Me Home Tour

Spanning eight months and 120 performances, One Direction’s first world tour kicked off on February 23, 2013, at London’s O2 Arena.

The film first retraces the group's formation on The X Factor and their meteoric rise to fame through interviews with key figures. It then takes us to New York, where the five members performed at Madison Square Garden for the first time in December 2012, selling out 20,000 tickets in just 10 minutes. Their families flew in to witness their milestone moment.

On January 17, 2013, they landed in Japan for the first time, receiving a grand welcome from over 500 fans at Narita Airport, enjoying a memorable stay in Tokyo.

The film then follows One Direction through Europe, where they performed in 18 cities across 11 countries. Despite their intense schedule, the boys found time to explore each country between concerts. After a brief break at home, they set off once again.

The documentary then jumps to their charity work with Comic Relief in Ghana, before taking us to Mexico City, where in June 2013, they performed in front of 65,000 fans.

From Audition to Global Stardom

FROM THE BEGINNING

In summer 2010, Niall, Zayn, Liam, Harry, and Louis individually auditioned as solo artists for The X Factor UK, one of the biggest talent shows in the country.

During the competition, judge Simon Cowell saw their potential and suggested they form a group.

"Each of them could have been a solo star," says Cowell, who produced This Is Us, "but I knew that together, they would be even stronger. It was that simple."

Thus, One Direction was born—and they immediately became a sensation. With their raw talent, charm, and authenticity, they captivated British audiences.

Unlike previous boy bands, One Direction had no pretense—on and off stage, they were simply themselves.

"Honestly, I knew from the start," Cowell admits. "I never told them what to do. Instead, I let them figure it out. They had the looks and the talent—I just trusted them."

A Social Media Frenzy

During The X Factor, fans rallied around One Direction, flooding social media with messages, waiting outside TV studios, and voting them through each round.

Despite finishing third, One Direction signed with Simon Cowell’s Syco Records and embarked on The X Factor Tour, visiting the UK and Ireland while working on their debut album.

Their first book, Forever Young, became a No.1 bestseller in The Times, and their debut single, "What Makes You Beautiful", shattered records, becoming the most pre-ordered song in Sony Music history.

Their debut album Up All Night (released in 2011 in the UK and 2012 in Japan) topped the charts worldwide, and in the US, it debuted at No.1 on the Billboard 200, making One Direction the first British group to achieve this with a debut album.

One Direction quickly became unstoppable, winning MTV Video Music Awards, Kids’ Choice Awards, and MTV Europe Music Awards. Their second album, Take Me Home, topped charts in 37 countries, and their 2013 Take Me Home Tour sold out worldwide.

In July 2013, they released "Best Song Ever", the lead single for This Is Us. The music video, directed by Ben Winston, broke VEVO records, earning 12.4 million views in one day.

The Making of the Movie

When Morgan Spurlock was approached to direct a One Direction movie, he jumped at the opportunity.

"From the beginning of my career, I wanted to create a big documentary film. This was my chance to tell a story that was both entertaining and meaningful."

Spurlock followed One Direction for nearly six months, filming in Mexico City, London, and more, capturing everything from on-stage pranks to heartfelt moments.

With over 500 hours of footage, the editing process was intense. However, the band played a key role, offering insights on what they wanted included in the film.

"They remembered things even I had forgotten," Spurlock says. "They had such sharp instincts."

According to Simon Cowell, Spurlock was the perfect director because he never staged anything.

"Morgan loves to eavesdrop," Cowell says. "Instead of directing them, he just observed. We placed cameras everywhere and let the boys be themselves."

Spurlock believes this movie is a time capsule—a way for the band to relive this incredible period in their lives in the future.

"One day, they’ll show this to their kids. It captures their journey in the purest form."

So, did Spurlock become a Directioner?

"I watched 31 of their concerts. I guess that makes me an official Directioner!"

Conclusion

One Direction’s story is one of unprecedented success, raw talent, and unbreakable fan support.

With record-breaking albums, sold-out tours, and a historic concert film, they redefined what it means to be a global phenomenon.

And as Simon Cowell says, "They’ve conquered the world—but this is just the beginning."

#This is Us #September #2013 #Harry Styles #Shaggy Hair #Up All Night Era #Fraterry #Magazine Scans #Japanese #my scans #One Direction #One Direction Magazine Scans #Liam Payne #Louis Tomlison #Zayn Malik #Niall Horan #1D #1D Magazines

3 notes · View notes